Deck the Fire Halls

Chapter Three

CHAPTER THREE

ROB

Of course he was washing the fire engine. Because of course he was.

Of course he was wearing his coveralls rolled down to his waist, and of course his gray T-shirt clung to his ripped body like a glove.

Of course it did.

I had a coat on with the collar up against the cold and my hands shoved into my pockets, and he was wearing a goddamn T-shirt while he washed the fire engine.

And he was gorgeous.

I don’t mean a little bit gorgeous. I mean the whole way. Tanned, ripped, dark, glittering eyes, and that smile. And don’t even get me started on the perfect bone structure of his face.

Or his lips.

Did I mention his lips?

And the way he always seemed to be smiling?

And the way he held my gaze and said he liked my pride pajamas. Pride. And that he wasn’t straight .

He said these things to my face.

Admittedly, I’d been a hermit by Gay Seattle standards. I just hadn’t had the time, the energy, or the inclination to bother.

I was also a sad and sorry mess.

Who the hell would want to deal with a guy who was one minor inconvenience away from getting into his car and driving away from his entire life?

I had issues. I had a problem with how the world worked, and I was cynical and angry at a system I couldn’t change.

No prospective guy wanted to deal with that on top of me working ninety hours a week.

Hell, I didn’t even want to deal with me.

I could have hooked up. I could have used a dozen apps to find a random one-nighter, but I didn’t even have the energy for that.

Or the libido.

I had nothing left to give.

And the only reason I noticed Soren was because he was my neighbor. And because he woke me up with his stupidly loud motorcycle. And because he worked across the street from me, wearing that damn firefighter outfit, washing his sexy red fire engine.

He was a cliché and I was a mess.

That’s all it was.

I shook my head at myself and walked to the diner. Katie told me it was the best place for lunch. She also told me my lunch was at 11:30 because the usual lunch hour was when people came for doctor appointments, and Doctor Humphries preferred to have an early lunch instead of a late one, so that was now my lunch time as well.

Hard to argue with that logic.

Kinda hard to argue with Katie at all. She was efficient in everything. When Soren had said she ran the clinic, he wasn’t joking. She had lists for every single thing and ran the time schedule like a drill sergeant. She clearly liked routine and schedules, and honestly, so did I.

Patients greeted her warmly, and she treated every person the same. She was also the no-nonsense type and I appreciated that the most.

So, I took myself off to the diner. It was like something out of a movie from the 1960s, with a door that chimed overhead, and vinyl booths and retro tables and chairs. Only it wasn’t retro , it was original in impeccable condition.

Places in big cities paid a fortune to replicate this, most not even coming close.

It was also warm and smelled amazing and the few customers looked happy. There was a guy behind the counter with brown floppy hair and a warm smile. “Good morning,” he said with an accent.

English? South African?

“What can I get for ya today?”

Australian.

“Uh, hi,” I said, trying to scan the chalkboard menu above the counter, not sure where to start. “Uh...”

“Just made a fresh batch of roasted tomato soup,” he said. “Lunch special with grilled cheese.”

Damn.

“Sounds perfect. ”

He grinned. “Take a seat, I’ll bring it over.”

I slid into the furthest booth, hiding away as I usually did, and a few minutes later, I had a huge bowl of the best-tasting tomato soup I’d ever had. The grilled cheese was the thick kind of bread with oozing cheese. It might have even been pan-fried in real butter.

Best lunch I think I’d ever had.

God, living in Seattle, my entire life had been green, clean, and lean. Jeez, some days I consumed enough calories to make myself function, and sometimes not very well.

“How was it?” the guy from behind the counter asked. Except now he was standing beside my booth with an anticipatory smile.

The fact I’d stopped short at licking the bowl clean told us both how much I’d enjoyed it.

“You know,” I said, “I’ve always tried to keep my dietary habits secular.”

He tilted his head, confused.

I nudged the empty soup bowl. “But this was very near a religious experience.”

He threw his head back and laughed. “I wondered where you were going with that.”

“It was delicious. I’ve been told I simply had to come to the diner, and now I can see why.”

“Ah. I thought you were new to town.”

“Oh?”

“Well, new face and all, but also no gloves.” He smiled at the huge windows overlooking the street. “It’s looking pretty cold out there. ”

“Ah, yes. I do have gloves, I just left them at home,” I said. “I’ll remember to bring them to work tomorrow.”

“Work?”

“Oh.” I let out a bit of a sigh. “Yes, I’ve just started at the health clinic in town.”

Recognition flashed in his eyes. “Ah, right, yes. Old Doc Humphries said he was semi-retiring and a new guy was taking over. That’s you?”

I gave a nod. “That’s me. Rob O’Reilly.”

His grin widened. “Jayden Turner.”

“Nice to meet you, Jayden.”

“Likewise. So, how are you finding Hartbridge?”

“Oh, it’s fine... so far. I bought a house on Elmwood Lane.”

“Perfect,” he said. “It’s a great little town. People here are the best you could meet. Where did you come from? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I don’t mind. I’m from Seattle.”

He grinned again. “So, just a small change in pace, huh?”

“That’s why I’m here,” I said, without really meaning how it sounded. I mean, I meant it. I just didn’t mean to say it to a random stranger. “Well, I better get back. Katie has me on a tight schedule.”

Jayden laughed again. “I bet she does. Here, give her one of these,” he said, ducking back behind the service counter and taking a chocolate walnut brownie out of the cabinet. “These are her favorite. She’ll think you’re the bee’s knees.”

Bee’s knees. That made me smile.

“Then I should most definitely take her one.”

The door chimed behind me and two guys came in, but not wanting to keep Jayden from his work, I paid quickly and took the white paper bag with Katie’s afternoon snack in it. “Thank you so much.”

“Doctor O’Reilly,” one of the men behind me said.

I turned to find none other than Soren, with his breathtaking smile and those damn firefighter coveralls, which he had done up now. Sadly, no tight gray T-shirt on display.

“I’m beginning to think you’re following me,” I said.

His grin widened. “Oh, I absolutely am. Watched you walk in here and told the boss I was going to lunch.”

My heart stuttered a little and I hated that he and his damned smile had this effect on me. I’d known him for all of two minutes. For some stupid reason, I couldn’t seem to take my eyes from his.

“Your boss must be a very patient man.”

Soren snorted. “He’s the opposite of that. But I’ll take him back some pie and he’ll be fine. And Chucky.”

“Chucky?”

“Yeah, Chuck. He’s like my work partner. Well, his real name is Danny but his surname is Norris, so...”

Chuck Norris. I nodded. “Makes sense.”

I had to make myself break eye contact. What the hell is wrong with me?

I looked back to Jayden and gave him a nod in thanks, to find him standing with the guy Soren had come in with. He had dark hair and a beard and was clutching Jayden’s sleeve, staring at Soren and me as if we were the most wondrous thing he’d ever seen .

“It’s happening again,” he whispered, nudging Jayden.

“I know,” Jayden replied. “This needs to be studied.”

Um, what?

“What needs to be studied?” I asked.

Soren intercepted and ushered me to the door. “Nothing. Ignore the Australians. They get a little crazy this time of year.” He opened the door, and all but shoved me out onto the sidewalk into the cold. “Say, how about I come over to your place. I’ll bring dinner. Seven o’clock? Perfect. See you then.”

The door shut in my face, and the man with the dark beard let out some kind of squeal and I heard Soren shush him.

That was weird.

And what was even weirder was that Soren had just invited himself to my place for dinner.

And I . . .

Well, I could go back into the diner and tell him no.

But I wasn’t going to.

To be honest, mid-afternoon I was back at my desk and still thinking about the whole interaction—and whatever the weird thing was with the Australians, as Soren had called them—and I still wasn’t even mad about Soren inviting himself over.

Was I looking forward to it?

Undecided.

Liar.

Pardon?

Liar, liar pants on fire.

I shook my head at my own subconscious.

Okay, so I was excited for conversation. Excited for a meal and having an actual conversation that didn’t revolve around a medical case or insurance and copays and legalities.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d done that.

Med school, maybe?

Far too long.

And I was neither blind nor stupid; I could see Soren was interested. He wasn’t shy about flirting. Hell, he’d admitted it to my face that he’d followed me to the diner.

I wasn’t mad about that either.

Did I want something with him?

He was gorgeous and sexy and seemed to be interested in me. For what, I could only guess. Something casual and physical? A one-night stand?

Apart from getting way ahead of myself, I knew virtually zero about him. He was a firefighter, drove a motorcycle, and he’d dropped everything to help me hang my diploma in my office, which told me he was kind.

Did he have ulterior motives?

Nothing his wicked grin and sparkly eyes didn’t already convey. He certainly didn’t hide his interest.

Unless he was like that with everyone?

Unless he was the town flirt and man-whore? Or maybe it wasn’t flirting at all. Maybe he was just a super nice guy.

Maybe he was incredibly unstable and one bad day away from being on America’s Most Wanted .

No, that didn’t seem likely.

Not that I knew him at all.

But if things didn’t work out between us, if they progressed no further than friendly neighbor dinners, then I’d be very okay with that too.

Jeez, Robinson, listen to yourself.

Already talking about possible relationship scenarios with a guy you’ve just met.

I was so out of practice. Maybe a guy being no more than nice to me was sending me into a tailspin. Especially when that guy was younger and hotter than anyone I’d ever been with.

Why was he even interested in me?

Was he even interested in me?

Could I even act on it? If he was interested? I wasn’t sure I could act on it, even if I wanted to. I was the local physician.

God, was he a patient at this clinic?

Stop it, Robinson.

I was letting my mind get away from me.

It’d been far too long for me, obviously.

One flirty smirk from a hot guy and my mind went to pieces. I’d been here for three days!

Maybe I was more stressed out and defeated than I’d realized.

I needed to focus.

“Doctor O’Reilly,” Katie said from the door. “Mr. Thornton is here to see you.”

Startled, I stood up. God, I really had lost my mind. “Yes, thank you, Katie. Send him through, please.”

Mr. Thornton was an older gentleman in for a general check-up and a chinwag. I got the feeling he was also here to check on me, but he was a lovely man and I didn’t mind the curiosity .

“Katie told me you brought her in her favorite sweet treat from the diner,” he said with a bit of a smile. Then he nodded and winked. “You won her over already.”

I chuckled. “Well, I had a bit of help from the man working at the diner. Was his name Jayden? He told me which was her favorite. I can’t take all the credit.”

“Ah, yes,” he said, nodding slowly. “Jayden. He’s getting married, you know. To another man.”

Oh.

My defenses went up with my placating smile, because I knew how these conversations usually ended.

“The guy with the dark beard?” I asked. “He seemed nice.”

“No, no,” he said. “That’s Hamish. The other Australian guy. He’s married to Ren Brooks, at the hardware store. Jayden is getting married to Cass. He runs the bed and breakfast out on Ponderosa Road.”

“Oh.”

God, there were two gay couples in this small town?

“Well, that’s exciting,” I said, still trying to gauge his reaction and about to change subjects.

“And there’s Clay Henderson. Lemme tell you, that was a surprise to the whole town. He’s run the local sawmill his whole life with his dad, Cliff. As tall and broad as a door but met a newcomer to town. Smaller, quiet type. Gunther or Gunter, I can’t remember. He’s starting up the youth center. Nice fellow. And then last year another newcomer to town, a young Englishman he is, got pulled over by the deputy for speeding, and that was that.” He pointed his gnarled finger at me. “You might want to watch yourself, being a newcomer to this town. Might find yourself in the sights of a man.” He winked.

“Well, I...” Good freaking lord. What the hell?

“I dunno what’s in the water in Hartbridge,” he went on, “but it sure weren’t in the water when I was a youngin. There’s nothing wrong with that, mind you. My granddaughter told me it was accepted now, and people being in love is better than people being hateful, and I guess she’s right.”

I wasn’t about to tell him that it sure was in the water back when he was a youngin, folks just had to live in hiding, but I didn’t think it was appropriate. He certainly wasn’t being disrespectful. In fact, he was very accepting. “Your granddaughter sounds very smart.”

“Oh, she is,” he said, his gray eyes lighting up. And then he gave me the rundown on her schooling and the clubs she’s in and how she helps around the house. He clearly adored her, and he clearly adored chatting.

I kept thinking of the time, a stopwatch in the back of my mind counting the seconds, telling me I needed to wrap up this appointment, because time was money and there was a never-ending line of patients and insurance companies and hospital board quotas I had to meet...

But I didn’t.

Not anymore.

So I took a few minutes to chat with Mr. Thornton, and when he left, he left with a clean bill of health and a smile. And for such a simple thing, a ten-minute chat with a kind old man, it made me smile too.

My next appointment didn’t mind waiting a few minutes and came in with a smile of her own. Mrs. Shelly had to have her blood pressure checked and a new prescription, and it took all of five minutes, and then she and Katie talked about an up-and-coming sewing club meeting.

The following appointments were relaxed and easy. A sinus infection, a baby’s six-month check-up, a toddler’s ear infection, a cholesterol check, a strained back.

And maybe in a few months’ time I’d be bored out of my mind, but my god... the change of pace was like a breath of fresh air.

The simplicity, the quietness.

No hectic and stressful ER events. No accidents, no assaults, no shootings. I hadn’t been sworn at, spat at, or threatened.

No directors yelling at us to treat people faster, cheaper. No boards to please, no quotas to meet.

Admittedly, I hadn’t met Doctor Humphries yet. He was the doctor who had been Hartbridge’s only doctor for forty years, and he was cutting his hours back getting ready for retirement.

Which was really him getting the townsfolk ready for his retirement.

All the patients I’d seen on my first day told me how much they liked Doctor Humphries, so I knew I had some pretty big shoes to fill. And as my first day wrapped up, I thought I’d done okay.

“People liked you,” Katie said. “They said you were nice.”

“Oh, thank you,” I said, genuinely touched .

“They said they preferred Doctor Humphries, but that’s not surprising.”

I almost snorted. Her bluntness was part of her charm.

“Not surprising at all,” I agreed. “Are you going home now?”

She was standing there with her bag, with everything turned off, so it was pretty obvious. But still... “Yes,” she said with a nod. “I finish at five o’clock.”

“Very good. Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“At eight fifty a.m.,” she reminded me. “I get here at eight fifty a.m.”

“Perfect.”

“You have the list I made for you,” she said.

I couldn’t help but smile. “I do. And I’ll make sure to adjust the heat.”

“Thank you for the brownie. I kept some for tomorrow. It’s in the fridge. Please don’t eat it.”

I had to purse my lips so I didn’t smile. “I won’t, I promise.”

She clutched her bag and stepped closer to the door. “Bye, Doctor O’Reilly.”

“Bye, Katie. Thank you for being so helpful today.”

That earned me a smile before she ducked her head and disappeared out the door. I locked everything up and was home by 5:20 p.m.

I hadn’t had an eight-hour workday, ever.

I wasn’t quite sure what to do with myself. I couldn’t even make my dinner because Soren said he was bringing it.

I had no clue what Soren expected. Was I supposed to have wine? Dessert? I had no clue and nothing to go on.

My house was clean and tidy, and I hadn’t broken a sweat all day, so it wasn’t as if I needed a shower. Normally after a double shift at my last hospital, I’d need a steaming hot shower to scrub away the day and decompress before crawling into bed.

Today I felt energized, almost.

It was weird.

I did a quick spray of deodorant and was going to brush my teeth but told myself not to be stupid—I was getting waaaaaay ahead of myself—so I opened a bottle of wine instead.

I’d barely had two sips before there was a knock at my front door.

It was far too early for Soren, so I had no idea who it could be. With equal amounts of curiosity and dread, I opened the door... to find Soren standing there holding a pot of something that smelled amazing, covered with tinfoil, and a loaf of some kind of bread on top. He was wearing a blue sweater and jeans and a smile that made my stomach swoop.

“You’re early,” I said, in a not-so-polite greeting.

“Saw your lights on, car in the driveway. And I was hungry, so I figured I’d come over. If that’s not okay, I can come back,” he said, looking back to his house.

“No, please. Forgive my rudeness. Come in,” I said, holding the door open in invitation. “Whatever that is, it smells amazing.”

He carefully handed it to me and began to take his shoes off. “It’s my mom’s famous casserole.” He got one shoe off and placed it inside the door, then his other. “I’d like to take credit for the recipe, but I’d be lying if I said it was mine.”

I walked through to the kitchen and sat it on the cooktop. “And the bread?”

“Ciabatta. Totally store bought,” he said.

When I turned to face him, the front door was closed and he was following me into my kitchen. Closer than I’d anticipated, and we were very much alone.

I looked for the closest distraction. “Glass of wine?”

“I can have one ,” he said.

“Are you on-call?”

“Never not on-call,” he said with a shrug.

My god, he was so incredibly good-looking. It was baffling to me that he was in my kitchen, looking at me with those smiling eyes.

I poured him a glass and he took it with a smile. I was disappointed when our fingers didn’t brush...

Jeez. Get a grip, Rob.

You don’t even know if he’s interested, or inclined to be interested, or just being nice.

Though I was pretty sure I was reading this whole thing correctly.

“I didn’t hear your motorbike come back,” I admitted.

He grinned. “I didn’t take it today. Pretty sure it wakes my new neighbor up and I don’t want to get on his bad side.”

I gave him a wry smile. “Sorry about that. I don’t mind now that I know about it. And now that I’ve started work, I won’t need to set an alarm, so it’s fine.”

He chuckled. “I don’t take it every day anyway, so you might wanna keep setting that alarm. I’d hate to be the reason you’re late.” He grinned behind his wine glass. “And anyway, I got to see your flamingo pajamas, so it wasn’t all bad.”

My cheeks burned. “I’ll never live that down.”

His eyes met mine and held my gaze for a beat too long. “Nope.”

A moment passed between us, not awkward—far from awkward—and a staticky thrill ran through me.

Wow.

What the hell is this?

“So,” he said, taking a sip of his wine. “Robinson is an unusual first name.”

“It was my great-grandfather’s name,” I admitted. “His first name. He was English. Came over here in his twenties. I don’t know much about him, but my father has a cricket trophy with his name on it. That’s how I know.”

“Nice.”

“And your name?”

“Soren De Silva,” he said. “My grandparents moved from Argentina to Canada after the war.”

“Canada?”

“Yep. I’m actually Canadian. Just across the border in Alberta though, so it’s not even a two-hour drive from my house to my folks’ place for a Sunday dinner.” He nodded with a smile. “Been here in the States for six years now, Hartbridge for two.”

“Hm,” I said flatly. “So you’re a Flames or Oilers fan?”

His grin was spectacular. “Flames to the bone. And you? ”

“Canucks.”

He groaned and let his head fall back. “Gah. I guess a gorgeous doctor from the West Coast had to have some flaw. Though they are Canadian, so you’re forgiven.”

Gorgeous?

I chuckled, ignoring the heat in my cheeks. “The Flames? And there I was thinking a Harley Davidson-riding firefighter who cooked me dinner didn’t have any flaws.”

His eyes were warm and shining. His tongue peaked out at the corner of his smile. “I can take my casserole and go home if you’d prefer.”

“No,” I replied. Then I remembered him saying he was hungry. “Should we dish it up?”

He gave a nod. “We should.”

My stomach felt all jittery, which was ridiculous. But damn, he was so freaking sexy and there was definite interest on his behalf.

The way his eyes caught mine, or the way his tongue would leave a wet stripe across his pink bottom lip.

He was flirting with me, and I liked it. It felt good.

It was the first time I’d felt anything in so long.

We took our plates and glasses of wine to the table and sat down. “You got yourself a nice place,” he said, though I got the feeling he was just being polite.

I looked around my small living room, at the furniture from my expensive high-rise apartment that now looked out of place in a quaint small-town bungalow. “I, uh, I never spent much time at home, to be honest.”

“Working?”

“All the time. ”

Soren took a mouthful of food and chewed thoughtfully. “Get the feeling there’s a story there.”

I laughed, though it wasn’t really funny. “There is. Short version is that I burned myself out. Was about to quit medicine and a friend convinced me to come here instead. Take a step back and regroup, get back to basics with a general practice. Then if I still didn’t love it, I’d have my answer.”

Soren’s eyes met mine and he gave a nod. “Sounds like a very smart friend.”

“She is.”

He nodded slowly and pushed a piece of beef on his plate around with his fork a bit, frowning at it. “So, is she a close friend?”

Jeez.

He was just asking outright.

“Kind of. A colleague first and foremost, but I’d consider her a friend.”

Then his eyes met mine. “Oh, so not that kind of friend? Because I thought I was picking up on some single vibes, but if I was wrong?—”

“You’re not wrong,” I replied a little too fast. “I mean, single yes. If you’re asking me if I’m into men, then the answer is also yes. If those were the vibes you were picking up on.” I couldn’t help but smile.

“They were, yes.” His eyes lit up and he fought a smirk. “Well, that and those flamingo pajamas were a bit of a hint.”

“Oh my god, that’s it. I’m putting them in the trash.”

He laughed. “No, please don’t. They’re amazing. ”

I couldn’t believe we were even having this conversation.

I stabbed some meat with my fork. “So what vibes exactly was I putting out there for you to think ‘hmm, this guy’s into men’?”

He laughed and sipped his wine. “Well, not counting the first day we met, when you came stomping over to give me a piece of your mind, wearing your cute little pride pajamas?—”

Oh, dear god.

His grin widened. “When I took my helmet off and you almost swallowed your tongue.”

“I absolutely did not,” I replied, indignantly.

“Ah, yeah you did. And then when I was washing the fire engine, you were staring pretty hard.”

“You were wearing a tight T-shirt, and you were wet, and I was pulling a coat on because it was cold. I had concerns for your health.”

He laughed, such a pretty sound, and his eyes glittered with humor. “Hm-mm. Sure.”

My face was on fire, and I didn’t even care. “So, what about you? What vibes do you give off?”

“One hundred percent gay vibes.” Then, as if he remembered something, he shifted in his seat and took another mouthful of stew, ripping apart some bread while he chewed. “And tragically single. And you said you were too... but is there not someone you left behind in Seattle? A handsome cardiothoracic surgeon who’s going to turn up here to try to win you back, perhaps?”

I snorted. “I think you’ve watched one too many Hallmark movies. ”

He smiled, kind of. “That wasn’t a no.”

“There’s no one. Cardiothoracic surgeon or otherwise. Hasn’t been anyone in a long time.” I sighed. “My entire life has been work. Hence the disillusioned, catastrophic burnout.”

His hazel eyes met mine. “Disillusioned catastrophic burnout. Sounds bad.”

“It was.” I frowned, my appetite waning. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to crash the mood.”

“You didn’t, so don’t be sorry. You have nothing to apologize for.”

“What about you? I can’t imagine this little town of Hartbridge has a thriving queer dating scene.”

He chuckled. “Dating, absolutely zero. As for queer guys, there’s a few of us. All established couples, though. I’ve been the odd one out for a while.” I knew about the couples but still mustn’t have hidden my surprise too well because he laughed. “You seem shocked.”

“Well, yeah. But not really about the fact there are gay couples here. More that you’re single.”

“Me?”

I gestured in his general direction, then up and down for good measure. “Harley Davidson-riding firefighter. I’ve seen you wearing a T-shirt washing the fire engine, remember?” I sipped my wine, wondering what I was missing about him. He was gorgeous, yes. But he was also funny and sweet and a good cook, and kind enough to offer to cook his new neighbor dinner.

He laughed as he swallowed his food. “Well, you see, there’s this running joke in this town. Well, between us queer guys, that there’s some crazy Christmas Cupid that sets his sights on queer men and makes them fall madly in love. I’ve been late to the party, apparently, because he missed me. Popped the other guys good and well, though.”

I snorted out a laugh. “Cupid?”

He nodded. “Slings and arrows and all that.”

Now I stared. “Did you... did you just quote Shakespeare?”

His eyes met mine. “I did, yes.”

My heart thumped. “Okay, so a Harley Davidson-riding firefighter who quotes Shakespeare. I’m clearly missing something. What’s the real reason you’re single?”

He barked out a laugh. “Ouch. I don’t know. I’m kinda new to town. Been here two years. Kept my head down for the first year, in respects to dating. I’d go back to Missoula to get any particular itch scratched, if you know what I mean.”

“I believe I do know, yes.”

“And I do shiftwork. We’re only a small town, so we don’t do twenty-four hour shifts like the bigger fire halls. One week, is seven a.m. till four p.m. Second week is three p.m. to midnight, and week three I do the solo graveyard, and I’m always on-call. Makes it kind of difficult to meet people and keep them when I don’t keep normal hours.”

“Oh, believe me, I know.”

God, if anyone understood that it was me.

He smiled. “Last year, I thought for all of half a second I might’ve had a chance with the new schoolteacher who came to town, but he only had eyes for the deputy. The Christmas Cupid got them both. ”

“That’s a shame.”

“Not really. I mean, for me, maybe. But not for them. I’ve become pretty good friends with the deputy this last year, and they’re so in love it could be akin to madness. I can see now that I was never in the running, because they’re ridiculously perfect for each other.”

I snorted. “Akin to madness.”

Soren laughed and sipped his wine. “And the year before that it was another new guy in town and the guy from the lumberyard. And the year before that it was another newcomer and the owner at the B&B. Oh, that’s the guy you met at the diner today. One of the Australians.”

“Right.”

“And the other Australian came to town and drove his car into a snowbank, met the owner of the hardware store, and bam! Total goner. Christmas Cupid got them too.”

This was ridiculous. “And this happens every year?”

He nodded. “Apparently. I’ve only been here for two, but the guys swear it’s a thing. Seems to me the only criteria is one of you’s gotta be new to town before Christmas, and single.” He made a face. “Hate to break it to ya, Doc, but looks like you’re it this year.”

I scoffed, because that was absurd.

“I’m not looking,” I said. “I came here to...” To what? Find myself? Regroup? Learn how to live again? “It doesn’t matter what I came here for. The fact is I’m a local doctor, and I can’t be having any kind of relationship with a patient.”

Soren’s smirk was slow to spread, his eyes locked and loaded on mine. “Not everyone in town’s a patient. For example, my doctor’s in Missoula. I mean, just as an example. But I’m not on the books at your medical clinic at all.” He held my gaze and I swore the temperature in the room went up. “You know, if you happen to find that information pertinent, for future reference. Or statistical curiosity.”

Jeepers. He was just putting himself out there.

“Statistical curiosity, huh?”

He laughed. “Well, you’re a doctor, I figured you’d appreciate data.”

God, this was flirting. He was actually flirting with me. It had been so long since I’d flirted with anyone, and damn, it was invigorating. Consequences be damned, this was a rush.

I had to play too. “And what do firemen appreciate?”

His grin was wicked. “Heat.”

Oh hell.

I laughed, but dear god, I was so out of my depth. So to break the spell between us, I pushed my plate away and shook my head. “I think you’re playing a game I can’t possibly win.” I hated that I was such a downer, that I couldn’t be fun and flirty and sexy as he was. “I’m... look, I’m flattered. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt... well, since I’ve felt anything. But I came to Hartbridge to decompress and... I don’t know. Find myself? Remember who I am and why I became a doctor. Find a sense of community. That probably sounds silly and wildly inappropriate. You were kind enough to bring me dinner and the flirting was fun, if that’s what it was.” I realized then, in a horrifying moment, that maybe I’d imagined it. “Oh god, was it flirting? See? I don’t even know. That’s how out of practice I am. I’m so sorry?—”

Soren reached over and squeezed my hand. “It’s fine. And yes, it was flirting. Though maybe I’m not as good at it as I thought if you weren’t entirely certain...”

Now I was just embarrassed. “No, believe me, you were great at it. Too good, even. I’m just... I...”

He sat back in his seat, still smiling, but he seemed to understand something that I wasn’t even sure I did. “You know what? Tomorrow is the first of December, right?”

I wasn’t sure I followed. “Ah, yes.”

“Perfect. Tomorrow night is the annual Christmas tree lighting ceremony in the park, and you’re coming with me. The whole town will be there, and I’m going to introduce you to all the guys. You want a sense of community, then that’s what I’m gonna give you.”

“Oh.”

His smile was bright and perfect. “Just you wait till you see Main Street tomorrow. First of December this whole town becomes something out of a Christmas movie. Believe me, you’re gonna love it.”