Page 6 of Wrong Number, Right Grumpy Firefighter

“No one’s claimed him?”

“Nope. He doesn’t have a chip, and no one responded to my posts on the local lost pet sites.”

“So you gave him a home.”

“What else was I supposed to do?”

I smile at that. The man might be chronically grumpy, but I’ve always known there’s a heart of gold beneath those stone-cold layers. This just proves my theory further. “I didn’t see you as the cat type.”

“I didn’t either.” He looks up at me, a ghost of a smile crossing his lips. “We’re both grumpy pains in the ass. He grew on me.”

“See, not an inaccurate nickname.”

He holds my gaze across the table for what might be two seconds or ten. All I know is that it’s longer than he’s looked me in the eye in a very long time. My pulse trips over itself, and I grip the top of my dining room chair to steady my suddenly wobbly knees.

This is pathetic.

This whole dating spree started because I wanted to get over this ridiculous crush.

Now what the hell do I do?

“Heather?”

“Yeah?” I ask, automatically wetting my lips as though he’s about to move around the table and kiss me into oblivion.

“You packed yet?”

“Doing it now.” I spin away quickly, feeling my cheeks heat.

Get a fucking grip, Heather.

Can Inotbe totally embarrassing for two full minutes? I’m going to stay with Dean because I know it’s safer than being a sitting duck in my own place until we know Jonathan the Jackass isn’t circling the neighborhood waiting to pounce with an AI-generated family album and a rag doused in chloroform.

But I’d be lying to myself if I said this wasn’t a bad idea.

4

DEAN

When I pullinto the driveway, the sky is dark and I’m exhausted to my fucking bones. It was a long ass day fighting a battle with a fire we ultimately lost. No one was hurt, but the house couldn’t be saved. The homeowners were devastated, and they let us know in no uncertain terms that we failed them.

These are the days when I question my life choices. The days where I feel like my efforts might be better served elsewhere. Our priority is to first save the people and animals. Then contain and eliminate the fire before it can spread. But nights like tonight, it doesn’t feel like enough.

As I cut the ignition, a notification lights up my phone.

Gage: Caught the perp. Dumbass ran a stop sign. Turns out there’s a warrant out for his arrest for stalking.

In between calls today, I kept an eye on the security camera attached to Heather’s front door. As I suspected, the jackass had the audacity to not only drive by her place on a handful of occasions, but he also came up to the door. I relayed that information to Gage, hoping he’d catch him in the act. But evenwith a license plate number, I expected it to take longer than a few hours before my brother caught up to him. The warrant is the cherry on top. The one thing that means he’s sitting in a jail cell for the rest of the weekend and unable to bother Heather.

Me: I owe you, man.

Gage: Just glad Heather’s safe.

Me: Me too.

Gage: You want me to give her the good news?

My gaze lifts toward the soft glow of light peeking behind the curtains of the living room window, and all the tension of the day instantly melts away simply knowing Heather’s inside waiting for me. It’s not exactly the way I’d choose things to be, but today, I’m taking the small wins when they come.