“Uh, Jules, you know I can’t make it for that day, right?” I asked, timidly.
She stopped and faced me.
“What?” she asked.
And just like that, her smile was sad again.
I felt my palms instantly grow sweaty, and my heart attempted to surrender for the both of us by jumping right out of my chest.
“Remember, we were going to celebrate it that second week after,” I said to her.
My voice came out even more timid this time, as her hollow eyes stared a hole into mine.
Then, suddenly, a smile cracked across her face.
“I know,” she said, in a much too cheerful voice.
I stared at her blankly.
“Did I scare you?” she asked, showing off a wide, toothy grin.
I took in a slow, deep breath and then let out a sigh and lowered my head as I tried to hide the smile fighting its way to my face. Then, after a few seconds, I looked up and met her little, devious gaze again. She winked a big set of eyelashes at me and then spun around on her heels. That was my silent cue.
As she spun, I dashed toward her and squeezed my biceps around her little body. Then, I scooped her up into my arms, as she screamed in surprise.
“There’s no room for jokes like that in this house, pretty girl,” I said, planting a wet kiss on her cheek.
She squealed again and wiped the back of her hand across her face, as I carried her to the living room and gently threw her onto the couch before I fell onto the surface next to her.
“You have just officially lost all your demanding privileges,” I said, flashing her a wide but serious smile. “We’re getting sausage pizza.”
“No,” she screamed.
I started tickling her side and planted another wet kiss on her cheek.
“Sausage pizza,” I said again.
“Okay, okay,” she said, giggling and trying her best to squirm away from my hands.
“What kind of pizza are we getting?” I asked, still running my fingers up and down her side.
She continued to giggle and squirm.
“Sausage pizza,” she screamed, through her laughter.
I slowed my fingers and then rested my eyes in hers. I was pretty sure I had a smile as wide as the Missouri River planted on my face.
“I’ll call it in,” she said, suddenly jumping out of my arms and up from the couch.
She danced away, and I sat up and started to reach for the remote but then stopped.
“Jules…,” I cautiously called into the other room.
When I didn’t hear anything, I jumped up, ran into the kitchen and spotted her already on the phone.
“Yes,” she said into the receiver, “one, large pepperoni pizza with extra cheese.”
I scowled at her, and she smiled back. And I didn’t even try to fight the smile returning to my face, as I realized in that moment that I would eat a million pepperoni pizzas for that girl. And she knew it. Damn it.
Chapter Twelve
Anniversary
“I’m sorry I had to be on-call tonight,” I said to her.
She softly smiled at me and took my hand.
“It’s fine,” she said. “I’m here. Happy anniversary, Will Stephens.”
I smiled and planted my eyes in hers.
“Happy anniversary, Jules,” I said. “And if it’s any consolation, I made a wish on one of those shooting stars of yours and asked for no calls tonight.”
She lowered her eyes, shook her head and laughed.
“You’re really bad at that,” she said.
“What?” I asked, surprised.
“You’re not supposed to tell me what you wished for or it won’t come…”
“Don’t finish that,” I said, stopping her.
I watched as she tried to bring her turned-up lips back to a straight position again.
“I love you, Jules,” I said.
A smile eventually won its way to her face.
“I love you, too,” she said. “Now, what are we going to eat? I’m starving.”
My eyes rested in hers for a second longer. She looked beautiful, as always. Her hair was down and fell perfectly around her face. And she was wearing a fitted, white top that hugged her in all the right places and tight blue jeans with little holes down the front of her thighs. The holes were put there on purpose, I had learned, unlike the ones that always occurred by accident in my old jeans. And tonight, she had on her favorite pair of boots — the ones that towered up her long legs. God, she was sexy.
Reluctantly, I forced my eyes to my menu and started scanning the items on the left side of the page first. But before I even got to the second item, I heard a succession of tones ringing on my belt loop. Immediately, my eyelids fell over my eyes, and my heart sank. Of all nights.
When I opened my eyes, Julia’s knowing stare was already on me.
“I’m so sorry, Jules,” I said.
They were the only words I had.
Her lips forced a half-smile, but I could tell it was sad. I slowly stood up and kissed her on the lips.
“I’ll call Jeff to come get you,” I said, reaching for my phone in my pocket.
“No,” she said. “It’s okay. I’ll call Rachel.”
I stopped.
“You sure?” I asked.
“Yeah,” she said, nodding her head. “I need to talk to her anyway.”
I slowly shoved my phone back into my pocket and found her eyes again. It broke my heart to leave her on our anniversary.
“Go,” she said. “Someone needs you.”
I tried to give her the best smile I could muster up. Then, I started to turn.
“Will,” she said, stopping me.
I turned back around and faced her.
“Be careful,” she said.
One side of my mouth lifted into a grin.
“I’ll call you,” I said.
Then, I turned again and made my way toward the small restaurant’s exit.
When I reached the door, I pushed it open and flew across the parking lot and into my truck. Once inside the cab, I slammed the door behind me and then stopped and rested my head on the steering wheel for a split second. A deep sigh later, I spun around and searched for my light in the backseat. I found it on the floor, unrolled the window and stuck it to the roof. Then, I threw the truck into reverse and peeled out of the little, gravel parking lot.
I arrived at the station a few minutes later and rushed inside.
“Residential fire?” I asked the captain, as I slipped into my boots and threw on my gear.
“Yeah,” he said and then quickly disappeared behind the truck.
I stopped for a second from adjusting my suspenders. There had been a look on the captain’s face. And looks like that were pretty rare on a face that had seen all that you could fit inside twenty years on the department.
I tried to shake it off, then threw on my jacket and grabbed my hat.
Within a minute, there were four of us in the truck, with Bryan, our engineer, in the driver’s seat. And Mike was in the tanker behind us. But I couldn’t stop thinking about Jules. I wanted so badly to call her, even if it did seem ridiculous at the moment, but my phone was in my truck, back at the station, and with the sirens howling above me, I wouldn’t be able to hear her anyway. Instead, I settled on staring out the window, as the truck breezed by stop signs — only making half-efforts to tap the brakes at each one — and praying that I’d make it back in time to still hang out with Jules some.
Suddenly, we all swayed to one side as the engine’s wheels hit the blacktop that carved a path away from town. And soon, everything outside of the window turned black, and it stayed that way for the most part, until I would spot, every once in a while, a porch light on in a house at least a half of a mile or so off the road.
It was another ten minutes, though, before the engine slowed and took a turn at a place far enough outside of town that any other time would have taken a good fifteen to get to. And it was only then that I could see the smoke. It was illuminated in the dark by the flames beneath it. But even it was still a ways away, at the end of a long driveway. I swayed to the side as the engine turned sharply again and followed a bend in the path, finally revealing a clearing. Then, I could see the fire’s flames threatening to reach above the tree tops on one side of the house. It was a pretty big house, but that one side looked pretty shot.