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How long had it been now? Thirty seconds? Five minutes? I couldn’t tell. I didn’t know. But it was too long and Jay was still inside.
The ceiling gave a heave and buckled. I shot to my feet, yanking the oxygen mask off my face despite the paramedic’s protests. Firefighters swarmed around me like bumblebees, pulling hoses, controlling the crowd that had gathered to watch the fire.
I shivered in the cold. Wheezed through my lungs rough with smoke.
Then Hackman stumbled out of the building. A moment later, Keith followed with Jay close on his heels. Cradled in Jay’s arms was Mrs. Steinheim, her pale yellow nightgown stained black.
I released a sobbing breath of relief at seeing Jay. Safe. Alive.
“She’s okay,” he said, leaving Mrs. Steinheim with the paramedic. “She inhaled a lot of smoke but she should be fine. No burns that I could see.”
I grabbed the front of his coat and tugged Jay toward me. His lips collided with my forehead and stayed there in a lingering kiss. I sighed as I tucked my face into his chest, wrapping my arms around him, and I didn’t care if the whole world stared at us.
Chapter Eight
Jay
It was well after sunrise by the time the fire had been doused. But I felt a pang of disappointment for Rosie’s sake. She didn’t have a home on Christmas. She’d lost everything, burned to the ground.
I carried two cups of coffee into the hospital waiting room. My gear was heavy after hours of work to put the blaze out, and my skin was blackened with soot. Rosie sat curled up in a chair, dozing, with Chief Wright beside her. She’d already been cleared to return home but she insisted on sticking around until Mrs. Steinheim was released.
Chief Wright met my gaze and nodded to me. He rose to his feet, squeezing my shoulder as I passed.
“Merry Christmas, Jay,” he said. “It would have been a dismal holiday if we’d lost that sweet woman last night. Now, I’m heading out so I can spend Christmas with my wife and let her know just how much I appreciate coming home to her at the end of a shift like this.”
I swallowed around the lump in my throat at the thought of losing Rosie. Carefully, I took a seat next to her and kissed the top of her head.
“Hey, beautiful. Brought you some coffee.”
Rosie stirred, blinking awake with a disoriented, sleepy frown of confusion. Her hair still smelled of smoke, and ashes were embedded under her fingernails. Scrubbing her hands over her face, she yawned and accepted the cup from me.
“Any word on Mrs. Steinheim?”
“Doctor gave her a clean bill of health. She’s free to go home within the hour.”
Rosie’s gaze dropped. She rested her head on my shoulder.
“Her home is gone.”
I looped an arm around her shoulders. When Chief Wright had told me it was Rosie’s duplex that was on fire, something inside me had lurched hard enough to make me feel sick. She could have died in that fire. Instead, she was sitting here beside me and I felt like I’d been given a gift that I couldn’t afford to waste.
“Chief Wright reserved a hotel room for each of you. He wanted to make sure you both had somewhere to sleep for the holiday weekend.” I paused, then added, “But I have another option, if you’re interested.”
Rosie turned her head to look at me.
“What is it?”
“My parents host this pitch-in on Christmas Day for their neighborhood every year. They started it when I was a kid and they liked it so much that they made it a tradition. I was thinking it might lift Mrs. Steinheim’s spirits a bit. And…” I trailed off and cleared my throat, suddenly feeling nervous at the prospect of Rosie turning me down. “And I thought I’d extend the invitation to you, as well. I realize it’s probably asking more than you’d planned for, since you will be meeting my parents and they’ll get ideas about…you know…about us and…”
Rosie reached up and touched my cheek. My rambling stopped.
“Jay,” she said quietly. “I would love that. Thank you.”
Relief bloomed in my chest. I set aside my coffee cup and took her hand, rubbing my thumb over her knuckles.
“I’m really glad you said yes,” I whispered.
She managed a small smile despite the exhaustion in her face.
