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“Oh, that’s not necessary. The whole team works there because we want to help people. It’s really a family.”
“So do you often dog sit and take care of errands for people you save as well?” Troy asked, his brown eyes peering at her as if he was seeing her for the first time. Gone was the playboy attitude that seeped Netflix and chill. Now he was all business and interested in her as a person.
Only took him realizing she worked in a male-dominated field. Typical.
Megan shrugged. “I try to step in when anyone doesn’t have family nearby.”
She didn’t enjoy conflict, but had enough practice and coaching from Ash to know where to place a sting when she needed to.
Troy considered her for a second and pulled his lips in tight before looking back down at his plate.
“I just really appreciate it. That’s all.”
Megan gave him a smile and let it go at that. No reason to continue. He was here now and that was that. It wasn’t right for her to judge how fast he could get home. She knew nothing about him, and he clearly cared for his dad, enough to withhold ranch dressing and sausage biscuits. Maybe this was the best he could do.
Either way, after dessert and coffee, which she was considering bailing on depending on which way this turned, Troy Chapman wasn’t her problem anymore.
It was a bit of a pity considering how handsome he was, but hey, she had already run into him around town once.
“So what made you get into firefighting?” Mr. Chapman asked, distracting her from Troy’s face, which was perfect timing.
“I just wanted to help people,” she said, hating herself for the lie. She felt like an impostor, a total fake. If she was normal she would’ve already died, and if somehow she had made it out alive, she never would’ve signed up for this.
For once she just wanted to tell people the real reason.
“That’s very admirable,” Troy said with deep meaning.
Ugh. Megan wanted to vomit.
“Thanks.”
“How often do you work at the station?” Mr. Chapman asked. Very reasonable question.
“Three days a week typically. They are twelve-hour shifts, and we all rotate as a team. My best friend used to work with us, but she doesn’t run calls too much anymore.”
“Firefighter?” Mr. Chapman asked.
“Paramedic, but she’s going to school now to be a doctor. It’s what she’s always wanted.”
“How nice for her.”
Yeah, lucky her.
“Yeah, we’re a little family. My other best friend is a cop. She used to hang out a lot more, but has been working on some bigger assignments, so it’s just me and the boys now.”
“Boys? So you’re the only woman?” Troy asked, with a strained look on his face.
Here we go again.
“Yep, just me. They’re like a bunch of brothers,” she said like always to get ahead of the next obvious assumption.
Troy nodded—was he smiling? Mr. Chapman still had the same expression, a polite smile and genuine interest, but she could see his eyes were starting to droop. Time to pull out the old get out of jail card.
“Well, thank you for dinner; this was really delicious. I need to leave soon to get back, but can I help clean up before I go?”
“Not so fast, Megan,” said Mr. Chapman.
Rats. Foiled again.
