Page 56 of Free to Live

“Holly, we’re friends, right?” His hesitancy is my undoing.

“Of course we are.” I’m going to give in. I just know it.

“Then join us. It’s a huge thing. Mom cooks enough for every off-duty officer at the station. Most of them end up at my parents’ house that day.”

Realizing it won’t just be the two of us, I relax. “Then I’d be honored.”

His smile reaches ear to ear until his phone pings with a text. “Crap, I hate to eat and run, but I have to head back to the station.” He stands abruptly.

“Don’t worry about it.” I wave him off as I deliberately stay in my seat. “I’m just going to finish up before I head back to the office. Stay safe.”

He reaches down and squeezes my shoulder. “Will do,” he says before he strides out the door.

Letting out a slow breath, I text my family that I should be back in the office shortly when Frances herself comes out from the kitchen. Dropping into the seat where Joe sat, Frances gives it to me straight. “If you don’t think that half the town isn’t going to be speculating on whether or not you’re dating that gorgeous Italian, you’re deluding yourself.”

Gritting my teeth, I get out, “We’re just friends, Frances.”

Cackling like she just heard that fried catfish was found to be a good source of healthy fat, Frances leans in to tell me, “Honey, a year—no, six months—from now, I want you to come back and tell me that,” before she hefts herself from the chair and heads back into the kitchen.

Losing my appetite, which for Frances’s Southern cooking is almost as bad as losing it for Genoa’s, I leave the rest of my meal uneaten and head out the door so I can edit more photos from the race.

27

Joseph

“What’s one thing that’s different for you now that you’re a father?” Holly asks me while we’re on the phone.

I think about it for a moment and answer seriously, “Pigtails.”

She giggles. It’s a great sound. “Seriously, I have a new appreciation when I’m at a store when the package says ‘painless’ on it. I think that’s more for the parents than the kid. Those suckers hurt when they snap in your hand.”

“That wasn’t exactly what I meant, Joe,” Her voice still holds a huge thread of amusement. “I meant, what was a day like for you before you had Grace?”

“Empty.” The word pops out of my mouth before I even know it was there. “I was busy, sure, but my life wasn’t as fulfilled.”

“That’s sweet.”

I shrug, even though she can’t see it. Then I give her the rest as uncomfortable as it is. “Before Grace, before Mary, it was all about the station and the guys. If I wasn’t there, I was trading in on the whole firefighter bit.”

“Ahh. So you had more groupies than just Tiffany? Maybe I should have left you to her after all.” Her voice is teasing and, much to my relief, without judgment. I begin to relax.

“I don’t get it. Half the time we smell, the other half we talk about smelling. Where’s the attraction in that?”

Holly’s shrieking in laughter on the other end of the phone. “Can’t breathe.”

I grin. “Ma used to ask her doctor if she had a problem with her nasal passages because they must be burned out from all the stench in our house.”

“Joe Bianco, your mama would be so upset if she knew you were telling me that!” Holly admonishes me.

“There were a number of things I did that would have upset my mother far worse,” I assure her.

“I’m afraid to ask.”

“Be afraid. Be very afraid,” I joke.

“So, what you’re saying is that you were a handful?”

“I guess as much as any perfect kid could be.”