Page 23 of Falling for the Hotshot

“What is your favorite scent? What smells like home to you, Blaze?” I had read once that men love the smell of pumpkin pie. It was some sort of universal phenomenon, and I wondered if that was true.

“Probably fresh pine trees. This is my home, in the forest, at the base of our fire response. I wish I could live here year-round.”

“Where do you live when you're not here?” I asked.

“Ahh, well, this is rather embarrassing for a man to admit, but I just moved out of my place at the beginning of the season and currently all of my belongings are stored in my mother’s garage.” It didn’t deter me an ounce.

“Are you planning on moving in with her once the season is over?” I swore I thought I heard him shake his head.

“No, definitely not. My lease terms had me locked in for two years, and I knew I didn’t want to stay. When the season is up, I’m looking for a new place to live, and I am hoping for something in a part of Maple Haven that’s a tad more remote than where I was living. What about you? What smells like home and while we are diving into the wells of personal information… What is your home address?” I was cackling with laughter again.

“Laundry,” I say, and the moment the word came out of my mouth, I could practically smell the softener all around me.

“Is that like, your ‘thing’? Laundry?”

“I live above a laundromat. It’s not glamorous living by any means, but it lulls me to sleep as if I’ve fallen into hibernation, and it’s extremely affordable. The place is actually quite cute, too. It has a sage green tiled bathroom, a bright white kitchen, and smells like Downy all the time.” There was comfort in sharing details about my apartment with Blaze. I think he was enjoying it, too.

“Wow, it sounds… Cozy,” Blaze laughed.

“It really is. So…” I considered a topic change. “If you won the lottery, what would you buy?”

“Land.” His answer was rapid-fire.

“That’s it?” I asked.

“That’s everything,” he said. I sat in his words for a minute, taking in who he was.

“What would you do with it?”

“Build a log cabin. One with indoor plumbing and electricity,” he scoffed.

“Oh no, are you also living without indoor plumbing?” I teased.

“Sort of. We have a sort of bath house, but the water pressure leaves something to be desired.”

“Sun shower user here.” I raised my hand, not that he could see me. “I can attest that you get used to zero water pressure. But I very much like your idea about building a log cabin. What would it look like?” And our conversation went on about our hopes and dreams, our futures, and eventually, he circled back.

“So, you know all about my Douglas fir log cabin with two bedrooms and a river rock hearth,” he went on. “But you never told me the things you would buy if money was no object.” I nodded, knowing I may need to own up to that teaser sooner than later. I thought of all the things in the world that would be at my fingertips but came up short.

“There’s really nothing I want that can be bought,” I said, and I knew it was a rather lame answer, but it was the truth.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone answer the question that way before. I feel the same way… Other than land, of course.”

“Can I make a confession?” I asked.

“Oh, I better sit down for this one.” My eyes grew wide.

“Were you standing this whole time?” I asked.

“My radio tether allows me to stand while taking one step backwards and forwards. It’s part of my physical therapy, and I’m getting stronger every day.” I was overjoyed to hear that. “Now, back to you, Tower Three. Confession time.”

“I want it all,” I said, biting my lip. “Love. Marriage. A baby in a baby carriage.” He hissed with laughter.

“You want a baby. Copy that,” he teased.

“I want those things in that order, thank you very much.”

“I know what you mean,” Blaze said, a softness to his voice. “I think that’s what most people want; they are just too scared to admit it. Like me.” Instead of replying, I let the silence speak for itself. God was working on something between us, and I took a moment to praise Him. “I’ve wanted it for as long as I can remember. A family of my own.” His words hit home like an axe to a log.