Page 26 of Melting for the Firefighter
I spread stems across the counter and fill his sink with greenery. Buckets crowd the floor. Ribbon unspools beside the toaster. A stray leaf lands near the coffee maker.
The room begins to breathe.
Lance watches from the doorway with his arms crossed.
“I am taking over,” I say.
“I see that.”
“I can move everything to the guest room.”
“Guest room is full.”
“Then I can work somewhere else.”
“Stay.”
One word.
My heart hears too much inside it.
He walks to the table and picks up a sprig of rosemary.
His large fingers look strange around something so delicate.
“Stay as long as you need,” he says.
I smile because he is offering more than anyone ever has.
A roof.
Space.
Time without a bill attached.
I wish he had said want.
Lance sets the rosemary down and places a spare key beside it.
“So you don’t have to wait for me to let you in.”
I look at the key.
No one has ever handed me access to their home as though my presence there requires no apology.
I pick up a piece of green ribbon and thread it through the ring. Then I tie it around my wrist.
Lance watches me do it.
His gaze stays on the ribbon.
Then it lifts to my face.
Neither of us says how much it looks like I belong here.
Chapter 4
Lance
