The clattering of canes and a distinctive walker alerted him that the entire Cocoon Club was on the premises. He spotted them in the open bay door, arms loaded with plastic containers of food, including some crooked cupcakes with candy-cane frosting and sugar cubes with thin laces of frosting to replicate ribbon. The entire group—from Penny, wearing what had to be an actual sequined-tree shirt, to Delilah in all her floral finery, Eloise, Elliot, Harold and Marty followed closely by Myra—looked ready to celebrate.
“Sorry we’re late!” Myra announced. “We had to pick Alice up at the hospital. Look at her new wheels!” She stepped aside as Marty and Harold fought for steering power over Alice’s wheelchair.
“Alice.” Roman ignored doctor’s orders and set aside his crutches, leaning down to look her in the face. “You gave everyone quite a scare, young lady. How are you feeling?”
“Much better, thank you.” Alice beamed. “Everyone’s been treating me like a queen. Including your mother. Merry Christmas, Roman.” She covered his hand with hers. “I’m spending tomorrow with Abby and her family, but I wanted to spend tonight with this special one of mine.”
“We’re thrilled you could come,” Frankie said, avoiding Roman’s eyes as she swept past with a platter of fried calamari. “Come take your seats, everyone. Dinner’s just about ready. Oh, here, let me take those.” She plucked up containers and carried them into the kitchen.
When his mother emerged and gave him the stink eye, Roman nodded and Ezzie went to entertain their guests.
He closed the kitchen door behind him. “Frankie, we need to talk.”
Frankie froze, just for a moment, but didn’t look back at him.
“No, we really don’t. People leave. And you’re just the next one. I don’t know why I thought it would be any different.”
“Because I am different. We’re different. Frankie. Frankie, stop.” He caught her hand as she passed. “Please. I want to make this decision with you, not in spite of you.”
“There’s nothing to decide. You’re going to get everything you’ve ever wanted, Roman. I envy you that, but I’m not going to stand in your way.”
“But I’m not getting everything I want. I want you, Frankie. I love you.”
She tugged her hand free, eyes sparkling like emeralds. “You do not. You can’t. We don’t know each other well enough—”
“I knew the second you spilled coffee down your shirt the day we met.” It was true, he realized, and as he accepted it, he felt a calm descend. One that he embraced with his entire being. “What good are my wishes coming true if I can’t share them with you?”
“Don’t do that. Just...don’t.”
“Don’t what? Tell you the truth? Frankie, why is this so hard for you? Why can’t you admit you have feelings for me?”
“Because you aren’t safe!” She slapped a hand over her mouth as if wishing she could take the words back. “Because you walk into the fire.” Her voice broke. “And one day you aren’t going to come out.”
“Oh, Frankie.” There it was. The fear of losing him, so visible in her eyes he hurt for her. “Frankie, none of us are guaranteed another day. Look what happened with my father. He was a firefighter for years, but that isn’t what killed him. You can’t predict anyone’s future. Not mine. Not your own. I love you, Frankie Bettencourt. And I’m confident enough to say you love me, too.”
“Do not.” She lifted her chin.
He grinned. “Yeah, you do.”
“Doesn’t change anything. You have to take that job, Roman.”
“Why? Because it makes things easier for you? Because it’s simpler for you to give up rather than fight? I hate to tell you this, Frankie, but if it comes to choosing between that job and you...”
The station alarm blared.
“Fire reported, 1434 Monarch Lane. Two-story structure. Please respond.”
Frankie swore, ripped open the kitchen door and dived for the desk...that wasn’t there. “Where’s the radio?”
“Here!” Ozzy yelled, already responding. “BH engine one responding. ETA two minutes. Requesting backup from engine companies—” He rattled off the other towns. “Frankie?”
“Paging the team now.” She sent out the mass text. “I’m sorry, Ezzie.” She hurried past them. “Have dinner without us. What are you doing?” she demanded of Roman as he whipped off his jacket and undid his tie.
“Coming with you,” Roman said.