First

I avoid rolling my eyes and focus on fishing my credit card out of my wallet instead. ‘That’s Jake.’

By the time everything’s paid for and the bag boy closes up the trunk of my car, I realise I’ve voluntarily thrown myself into Jake’s path. The car keys swing from the ignition, metallic clicks nearly melodious in the shocked silence.

What is wrong with me?

With the groceries purchased, it’s not like I can just go home. There’s no way I could ever eat that much spaghetti, not even if I froze all the ground beef. And then there’s the fresh salad fixings …

I have no choice. Desperate measures must be taken due to my own stupidity. Catherine picks up on the second ring. ‘Maya, what’s up?’

‘How do I get to your brother’s station?’

She’s instantly suspicious. ‘Why?’

I try to ignore the pile of grocery bags behind me when I glance back in the rear-view mirror. ‘Does it matter?’

‘Yes, it does. You hate each other. I can’t send you there without giving him some warning.’

Her defence of Jake makes sense. He’s her brother. He took on the role of parent, brother, cheerleader, and general alpha-hole when she needed him most. But I’m her best friend, dammit. Where’s my support?

‘I’m not going to attack him or anything!’

On the other end other end of the line I hear the sharp buzz of an air ratchet. I sigh. ‘Are you having lunch with Dallas again?’

‘Maybe.’

‘Oh honey, you’ve got to get over him.’

Catherine has an uncanny ability to ignore me when I say something she doesn’t like. ‘Why do you need to go by the station?’

‘I just ran into Jake at the store, but they got a call and had to leave. I have their groceries in my car.’

Catherine giggles. ‘Were you able to fit them all? I’ve seen the way they eat.’

‘Barely. Does delivering your precious brother’s dinner count as a valid reason to get the station address?’

Catherine laughs and gives up the goods. It takes me a while to hunt down the place. It’s an expansive building made of brick and weathered from years on the shoreside. Though cars fill the parking lot, no one answers when I knock on the locked entry door. There doesn’t appear to be anywhere I can dump the groceries and run, so I return to my car and hunker down until the men’s return. At least I have time to reread Antony & Cleopatra—a good thing since auditions for it are coming up.

Nearly three hours later, I’ve managed to read the play and am going through it a second time to start taking notes. The arrival of the engines is a welcome surprise. I get out of my car and wait in the lot, taking in the scene. The bays open, the engines park and firefighters spill out, laughing and talking. Even from this distance, the camaraderie is evident.

‘Maya?’

I straighten when I notice Jake making his way toward me. He’s still dressed in his turnouts. His cheeks are smudged with soot and his hair is mussed from its time under his helmet. His shoulders are relaxed, his face out of its normal scowl.

I now understand the fireman fantasy some women have. If the rest of his crew wasn’t here, I’d be on him in a second.

If I were still thinking of him that way, I mean. Which I’m totally not. The idea of dragging off his coat and running my fingers down his abs as I work toward the pants isn’t running through my mind. Working the zipper down as I crouch in front of him—

He’s confused. ‘What are you doing here?’

Oh, right. He’s talking to me. Abort fantasy sex.

I shoot for what I hope is a genuine friendly smile. ‘I brought you your groceries.’

‘My groceries?’ Understanding dawns. ‘Thank you. That was really nice of you.’

His genuine appreciation throws me off. I take a small step back and gesture at my car, trying to hide my discomfort. ‘Well, they’re here if you want them.’

He looks over his shoulder and hollers, ‘Jeff! Nelson!’