Slippery like an eel,Sophie was.
If she slid out of my grip one more time, I’d be tempted to scoop her up like a tangle of fire hose and throw her over my shoulder. She sure had a lot of arguments for somebody being helped. Instead of manhandling her, I hooked her arm through mine, like the gentleman I was. She had a deathlike grip on my forearm. That soft honey vanilla smell was stronger now, and her hand looked too small as it held me, shaking slightly.
I couldn’t tell if she was holding on for dear life or still trying to get away.
“It’s going to be great, you’ll see.” I smirked down at her, and she made an indiscernible sound.
I didn’t have time to stop at the station for the rest of my uniform. The text from Mason put me into action. The fire took precedence over all else. I’d assess the situation there first and then see if I needed to call for backup and get my uniform.
I hadn’t really thought this through, but when had I ever? It would be fine. I just had to make sure nobody was in danger, and then I would make sure the town wasn’t in trouble.
I was sweating by the time we arrived at the center of town, even though the walk had been short.
The planned bonfire was huge, casting a wall of heat on the dark, indecipherable shapes that surrounded it. On initial glance, nothing seemed off. The smell in the air was what I dubbed a safe smell. Having grown accustomed to various types of fires over the years, I fancied myself a bit of an expert. No stinging of expectorants, no thick, sticky odors of melting rubber, no biting singe of body hair or worse. All around, the people of Cozy Creek laughed and chatted happily, and the hope for a festive fall season hung in the air. A few of the surrounding shops were open; soft, buttery light poured from the windows, where owners handed out drinks or delicious, calorie-dense foods like caramel apples and funnel cakes.
“Pace. I’m going to go. You don’t need me here,” she said again, and this time managed to snatch her arm free.
“We should talk more.” I turned to her.
Half her face was illuminated, and her eyes were wide and scared.
“Maybe we can knock a few things off that list tonight. I think a band is setting up now,” I said.
Her eyes, already large, widened even more. No words escaped, but her head shook minutely back and forth.
I threaded our fingers together, careful not to squeeze, noticing how small and vulnerable her hand felt in mine. My tan, calloused fingers brushed against her pale skin, as tension trembled through her. Her palm was clammy even in the cool evening air. I held her hand gently, trying to convey that she could trust me.
This new gesture was far more intimate than I’d meant for it to be. An unexpected thrill raced through me. I casually touched people all the time; this awareness was weird.
Her mouth closed, and she swallowed with a decided nod.
“It’ll be great. You’ll see,” I reassured.
Her hand squeezed mine as if to check its hold, like tugging on a safety harness. I was used to providing comfort. I knew what most people needed to feel safe. I hadn’t expected the zing of awareness to pass through me with our clasped hands.
“For now, let me see if I can’t figure out what’s going on and where I’m needed. Then we will talk more,” I said.
She made a sound that might have been confirmation. That or she had digestion issues.
My head flicked from side to side, searching for any trouble.
“Paaaaace.” An obnoxiously loud voice yelled my name, dragging it out in deep tones.
A few yards away was a group of guys from the firehouse, huddled in camping chairs, peppered in with some women I didn’t recognize.
There was Mason, the newest and youngest of the crew, along with several other rookies from the station. None of them were in uniform, and they were all holding drinks. Definitely off duty. Chief Cole had strict rules about these things.
“Where’s the fire, man?” Mason asked, slurring his words. “Heh. Fireman. Fire, man. Get it?”
A few of the others joined in the drunken laughter of something that would never be that funny sober.
I scratched my eyebrow. This wasn’t the stellar first impression I’d like to give of my brothers to Sophie. Not that it mattered, but it also felt like it did.
“That’s what I’m wondering,” I said.
“Huh?” one of them asked.
“Nice pants,” Mason said.
