The Firefighter's Thanksgiving Wish - Page 86

She retched, coughed, and clawed at her mask and helmet until she got them off, sucking in fresh air by the mouthfuls.

“I’ve got them,” Ozzy was saying. “Bring the ambulance. Frankie’s conscious, but Gil’s not.”

“We’re on our way!”

“Is that Roman?” She gasped, gesturing for Ozzy to give her his mask. “My intercom’s gone.”

“Yeah, figured. Here. Just remember—”

“Roman?” She didn’t recognize her own voice. “You hear me?”

There was an extra beat before anyone spoke. “I hear you, Frankie.” The relief in his voice wrapped around her heart and squeezed.

“I love you. You hear that? I love you, Splatman.”

Another moment of silence. “I think everyone on this frequency heard you. But that means I have witnesses.”

His voice was getting louder. Frankie shoved off her tanks, dropped to the grass and on her back, drew her knees to her chest as she blinked up at the Christmas Eve sky. “I am so over regulations. I love you.” She laughed, and soon, she couldn’t stop. Not even when Roman bent down beside her and held her in his arms. “Where are we going? Where’s this new job of yours?” she asked.

“Doesn’t matter.” He kissed her, tender and quick. “We aren’t leaving.”

“But...” No. No, no, no. She couldn’t let him give up. Couldn’t let him walk away. “I’ll go with you. You don’t even have to ask.”

“I don’t want to ask. My dad told me I’d know when I found my place. That my heart would know. I know now. My place is here, Frankie. In Butterfly Harbor. As your boss.” His grin was instant and had her laughing again as the last of the flames turned to smoke. “If you can handle that.”

Happiness swelled around the pain ricocheting through her body. “I’d like to try.”

* * *

“I CAN’T BELIEVE I have to spend Christmas in the hospital.” Frankie’s grumbling put a smile on Roman’s face. That she sounded a bit like a five-year-old who had been disappointed by Santa meant that all was right with the world. She coughed again, that feel-it-in-your-bones, all-the-way-to-your-feet kind of cough that came with smoke inhalation. She had her own room, and one of those gowns that didn’t close completely in the back. She looked exhausted, smoke-kissed and irritated. But she was alive. And she loved him.

That was all that mattered.

Roman propped his injured leg on her bed and ate the Jell-O she’d been given but rejected for breakfast. His stomach hadn’t stopped growling since last night, but he wasn’t about to let her out of his sight. Not for at least forty or fifty years.

He’d left her side only once since she’d been admitted, long enough to call Dr. Selena Collins and confirm that the black kitten was ready for his new home as soon as Frankie was back on her feet. It was a gift he was eager to give her; almost as eager as the other one he had planned.

“Mom’s on her way with real food,” Roman told her. And, trying to keep his voice somewhat calm, he added, “Said she had some kind of announcement or proclamation for us. Who knows.”

“About that job with the feds—”

Roman closed his eyes and leaned his head back. “Frankie, one more word about that and I’m going to make sure they keep you here through New Year’s.”

“I just want you to be sure. I mean, you might not get another chance, and I don’t want you stuck in town—” He silenced her the only way he could think of. He stood up and kissed her.

“I’m not stuck in this town,” he murmured against her lips. “I’m home.”

She looked at him then, a smile forming slowly on her lips. “Right. I guess you are. Oh, hey, Gil.” She cleared her throat, which triggered another coughing bout. “Nice wheelchair.”

Gil wheeled himself into her room. He looked as if he’d gone ten rounds with the afterlife, and the slightly dazed look on his face proved it. “I wanted to thank you.” His raspy voice was barely audible.

“Just doing my job,” Frankie said with that gleam in her eye that told Roman she was implying a lot more. “Good thing the team was just a few minutes away from the fire. Any delay—”

“Any delay and I wouldn’t be here. Yeah. I get it.” And it looked as if he truly did. “We won’t be closing the station. And I’ll be approving your request for additional personnel. Enough for two full-timers, at least. The rest we’ll address as we go on.”

“I—we appreciate it,” Roman said, already certain who he wanted to hire first and permanently—Ozzy.

Tags: Anna J. Stewart Romance
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