Page 4 of The Great Maple Mistake (Love in Maplewood #8)

Alex

July: Eight-and-a-half weeks until the Cook-off

As I pull up to the firehouse, Chief Brennan is standing out in the parking lot, his beefy arms crossed over his very broad chest, scowling at four men washing the fire truck.

His glower is impressive, and I’d hate to be on the receiving end of it.

What have they done to deserve that? I park my car on the opposite side of the lot so I don’t interfere with whatever’s going on and wander over to stand next to him.

This close, he towers over me, and I feel like I’m five years old instead of thirty-five.

Guess we can’t all be six feet, four inches tall and built like a brick wall. “Afternoon, Chief.”

“Afternoon, Alex.”

We stare at the four firefighters as they meticulously detail the fire truck.

“So what’d they do?”

“Vega was fifteen minutes late for his shift. Again. Williams can’t seem to gear up properly, and Massani made it through twenty-two years of life without learning to check pockets before throwing our clothes into the washing machine.”

I point to the fourth firefighter washing the truck. “What about Alenko?”

“Damned fool’s the one who doesn’t know how to empty his pockets before throwing his pants in the laundry.”

“Ahhh.” I watch the four men sweating in the summer sun and nervously run through the list of offenses, checking myself against them like I might be sent to wash emergency vehicles too.

But I get it. When you live or die based on how reliable and quick-thinking your team is, everyone needs to take things seriously.

Laundry might not be life or death, but if anyone forgets to do even a little thing out in the field, someone could get injured—or worse.

Even so, I’d rather the chief was in a better mood for our discussion.

I need him to keep an open mind about my proposal.

“Is now still a good time to meet? Or do you want to reschedule?”

“Lawson!” Chief continues to glare at the men.

Mike Lawson jogs out of the firehouse bay, stopping next to the chief. “Yes, sir.”

“Keep an eye on these four chucklefucks and make sure the truck sparkles before they call it quits. I have a meeting, but I’ll be back to check when I’m done.”

“Yes, sir.” Mike turns to face the cleaning crew and crosses his arms over his chest, assuming the same position the chief had been in, but he doesn’t have quite the same aura of intimidation. Give him a few years though…

Chief Brennan waves me toward the firehouse. “C’mon. We’ll meet in my office. Do you want a bottle of water or a soda?”

“No thanks. I’m good.”

We walk across the parking lot, and I follow the chief into the station.

He waves me through into the office area.

It’s been a while since I’ve been in this part of the firehouse, so I poke my head into the different rooms, openly snooping.

There are a few small offices which are unoccupied, and a large meeting space for training.

When I glance into the conference room and catch sight of the handsome man sitting alone at the large oval table, my heart rate speeds up. “Hey. Cody, right?”

Cody looks up from the paperwork in front of him, his heart-stopping blue eyes and eager smile all but knocking me on my ass.

I try to calm my racing heart as he pushes out of his chair and walks toward me.

“Yeah. And you’re Alex.” He holds out his hand, and I shake it, feeling a rush as our palms connect.

“That’s me.” His grip is warm and firm, and for a moment, I feel like he’s going to lift my hand and kiss the back of it. Then I roll my eyes at myself, because really? “I didn’t know you were a firefighter.”

“Yeah. Living my childhood dream.” His expression is open and totally sincere. “I couldn’t imagine doing anything else.” He peers around me to look at Chief Brennan, and his expression turns serious. “Sir. Did you need this room? I can find somewhere else to fill out my paperwork.”

I glance over my shoulder at the chief, who’s watching the two of us with a raised eyebrow. “Sheppard, I thought you only arrived in Maplewood yesterday.”

“Yesterday was my first full day in Maplewood. I arrived the night before.”

The chief looks down at our clasped hands and back at Cody. “You move fast.”

Cody grins, not the least bit rattled by the chief’s comment. “Alex is my first friend here in Maplewood.” He looks back at me. “Right?”

Well, what else can I say but yes? “Absolutely.”

“There you go.” He grins at Chief Brennan, then at me, still holding my hand.

My cheeks warm, and I can practically feel the chief’s eyes boring into the back of my head. “Anyway, sorry to interrupt your”—I wave my free hand in the direction of the papers on the table—“paperwork. I should let you get back to it and not take up more of the chief’s time than necessary.”

Before he releases my hand, Cody looks into my eyes and I lock my knees so I don’t swoon. “It was great seeing you. Now that we’re friends, maybe we can hang out sometime? I don’t know what everyone does for fun around here, but I’m pretty easy-going. I’d be up for whatever you like to do.”

Again, there’s nothing but pure sincerity in his gaze. Who is this sweet and earnest anymore? “I’d love that.”

The chief’s voice slices through my rose-colored fog. “If you two are done flirting, I have a fire station to run.”

Shit. “Sorry, Chief.” I squeeze Cody’s hand once and pull out of his grasp. “Talk to you later, Cody.”

“Yes, please.” He grins, watching us continue down the hall into the chief’s office. I know because I keep glancing back, and every time I do, his eyes are still on me.

Chief Brennan drops into his desk chair and motions for me to take a seat. “What can I do for you, Alex?”

I start off with the easy stuff, hopefully disarming him before I hit him with my brand-new idea for next year’s fundraiser.

“One of the reasons I’m here is to ask for the firehouse’s participation in The Great Maple Cook-Off.”

The chief grins for the first time since I arrived. “You want some of the guys on a standby crew in case something goes up in flames?”

He’s joking, I think, but he’s actually hit the nail on the head. “Hopefully there won’t be unintentional flames, but you never know. This is our first year, and we’re not really sure about the skill level of our participants.”

“Good point. Okay, yes. We’ll have a truck and a crew there. We already have EMTs at all the festivals, just in case someone gets injured. And if there are fireworks, then we set them off and have a truck on standby. So it does make sense to have a truck there for a cooking event.”

“Thanks, Chief. That’ll be a load off of everyone’s minds. And hopefully the event will raise a lot of funds for local food banks. Do you need the dates and times?”

Chief shakes his head. “Nah. We got a full calendar from Bo Boyd at the beginning of the festival season.”

“Excellent.” I mentally psych myself up and hit him with the second reason I’m here. “Speaking of fundraisers, I was hoping to talk to you about a new firehouse fundraiser.”

He reaches for a bowl of almonds on his desk and frowns as he pops one into his mouth.

Chief is very particular about his fundraisers, which is why this could be a tough sell.

Right now, the firehouse does a pancake breakfast in May and a spaghetti dinner in August. They also host Bingo on the last Sunday of every month. “What did you have in mind?”

Here goes nothing. “A firefighter calendar.” I hold up my hands, hopefully staving off any interruptions until I give him the full pitch.

“I’d donate my time to take the pictures, and I’ve already been scoping out ways to cut down on the costs of printing.

We could sell small ad spots each month and have fire safety tips and other stuff, like reminders to change batteries in smoke and carbon monoxide alarms. There are firehouses that do one every year, and some make tens of thousands of dollars doing it. ”

Chief’s frown hasn’t disappeared, and that’s not good.

Hopefully it’s just his thinking frown and not his reject-the-idea frown.

If he says no, I don’t have much hope of changing his mind.

He tosses another almond into his mouth then holds the bowl out to me, but I shake my head.

Setting them aside, he plants his elbows on the desk and leans in.

“You mean like one of those shirtless calendars? I can’t force my people to pose for something like that.

Most of the guys might not mind, but we have two women firefighters. ”

“It would be completely voluntary, and shirtless or wearing a shirt would be up to the firefighter.”

He still doesn’t seem sold, so I bring out my one big gun. “The New York City fire department made one hundred fifty thousand dollars on their calendar.” Chief’s eyes go wide, but I keep going. “If we could make even a fraction of that, it would be fantastic.”

“But we could lose our shirts—no pun intended—paying for printing costs, if we don’t sell any.”

He’s not wrong, but I’ve covered my bases.

“That’s where the advertising space comes in.

” I make a mental note to thank Dad later for the snippets of advertising and marketing I picked up over the past thirty-five years.

“Like I said, if we get local businesses to place ads in the calendar, that should cover printing costs. So even if it flops, the firehouse isn’t out any money.

” That has his attention. “What if I got the sponsor commitment before we even get to pictures? That way you’ll know the calendar is funded.

And if we can’t raise enough to cover costs, then we scrap the idea and you’re no worse off than before. ”

Chief’s eyes lose focus as he considers. “Okay. You get the sponsors lined up, and I’ll get the firefighters. We still only have twenty-two right now, since Tom Pritchard retired and Cody came to replace him. We might be able to convince twelve of them to volunteer.”

I can’t contain my grin. Ever since the town hired me to improve their social media presence and upgrade the city website, I’ve been trying to shake things up a bit and get people thinking past the same old tired ways of doing things.

Hence the cook-off and calendar. “That’s great!

I’ll get started on it this week and stop by to give you an update the week after that. ”

“Sounds good.” He stands, so I do too. “I’m gonna head back out to the parking lot and make sure my truck looks spotless.” He holds out his hand, and I shake it. “Good luck, Alex. I look forward to hearing about your progress.”

He gestures for me to precede him out of the office, and I take a moment to enjoy my small success.

As I pass the conference room, I glance inside, but Cody isn’t there anymore.

Disappointment turns to doubt as I step outside and cross the parking lot to my car.

Have I ever done anything like this? Not on this scale.

But stopping by local businesses and getting sponsors to cover printing costs shouldn’t be difficult.

Right? And even if there are firefighters who don’t want to participate, surely twelve of them will. Hopefully. Maybe. Oh hell.

What’ve I gotten myself into?