A Firefighter in Her Stocking

“And Saturday evening? Do you have plans?”

She shook her head. “Hoping to spend as much time as possible with you.”

Her words spread warmth through him. Sarah didn’t play games, just said what she was thinking. Most of the time he liked that quality.

He liked a lot about the woman he spent most every free moment with. Roger had commented on how much time he was spending with Sarah.

Enough time that he’d gotten to know the woman behind the glasses, the glasses she’d not worn around him all week. She still wore them at the hospital, but she wasn’t hiding behind them with him. Not any more.

Which was quite telling.

“How about we stay in and I give you a cooking lesson?”

Her eyes widened with amused surprise. “You want to teach me to cook?”

“Somebody needs to,” he teased, loving the light in her sea blue-green eyes.

“Okay, but I should warn you that I make a mean burnt toast and hummus.”

“You know, lately I’ve been craving burnt toast.”

* * *

Several nights later, Jude made plans for him and Sarah to visit Times Square. He’d noted how she’d gone on when they’d driven past it on the evening he’d taken her to Phantom of the Opera. Taking her there felt like the natural thing to do.

Watching her felt natural, too.

Excitement glittering in her eyes, she took a deep breath of the cold November air. “The lights, the people, the sounds, it’s magical here. Like inside a snow globe.”

He snapped his fingers with feigned remembrance.

“I forgot to arrange the snow,” he teased, thinking everything with Sarah was exciting, new, magical. Like inside a snow globe. “Next time I’ll remember.”

“Ha.” Her lips curved in a big smile that twisted his insides. “You know what I mean,” she continued. “I know you do. I see it in your eyes when we’re sitting on your sofa, staring out at the city. There’s a life pulse to this city that is intoxicating.”

“That might be the fumes.”

“You aren’t going to deter me from my appreciation of New York.” She shook her hat-covered head. “No way.”

“I wouldn’t want to.” He kissed the tip of her nose, grateful she’d quit hiding behind her ugly glasses.

Still smiling, she glanced around Duffy Square. “Where are we going?”

“To the top of that hotel.” He pointed to one of the large skyscrapers facing Times Square.

“I bet the view is amazing.”

“Have you been?”

She shook her head. “I’ve heard the restaurant at the top spins so you have a three-sixty view of the city.”

“You heard correctly.”

Her eyes shone with excitement. “That is so cool.”

He chuckled. “You’re easily impressed.”

“You think? I’ve always considered myself picky.”