Page 33 of Startup Fire

They fell into rhythm. For the next fifteen minutes, Jess kept the fires going while Wayne guided volunteers. She watched him with kids—patient, encouraging. Watched him handle nervous adults with the same calm confidence.

This was Wayne at his best.

Their hands brushed passing equipment. Wayne's eyes met hers—hope, fear, want.

“They're so cute together,” someone murmured nearby.

Jess's chest tightened. They were good together. The question was whether good enough was enough.

When they wrapped up, Chief Murphy was beaming. “The judges loved it. We're definitely placing.”

Two hours later, the awards ceremony began.

Third place went to Copper Ridge's dramatic car extraction demonstration.

“Second place,” the announcer called, “Elken Grove Volunteer Fire Department, for their innovative interactive safety education program combining traditional craft with modern fire prevention techniques.”

The team erupted around them. Everyone talking at once, celebrating the equipment grant, the recognition, the publicity.

But Jess felt strangely distant. Like she was watching from outside herself.

This could be her life. These people, this town, this work. Wayne's arm around her shoulders, his team becoming her team, roots growing down into soil she'd thought was just temporary.

Or she could take the San Francisco job. Clean break, fresh start, the career she'd always planned.

Both paths were real now. Both were possible.

She just had to choose.

Wayne's hand found hers. “Can we talk? Somewhere private?”

She nodded, letting him lead her away from the celebration. They found a quiet corner near the concession stands, the area nearly empty as the event wrapped up. Away from cameras and crowds, they finally faced each other.

“Jess—” Wayne started, but she held up a hand.

“Let me go first. Please.”

He nodded, but she could see the fear in his eyes. Bracing for rejection.

“I've been thinking about what Zoey said,” Jess began. “About building a life for myself first, not around someone else. And she was right. I can't make this decision based on you, Wayne. I have to make it based on what I want for my life.”

“I understand.” His voice was carefully neutral, but his hands were shaking.

“San Francisco is safe,” Jess continued. “It's a steady paycheck, clear career path, everything I thought I wanted when I graduated RISD. But you know what? I didn't come back to Elken Grove to play it safe. I came back because Brooklyn was killing me—not financially, but creatively. I was making rent-payment glass instead of art.”

Wayne was watching her intently now.

“And then I found your barn. And I started making things that felt right for the first time in years. Not because of you,” she said quickly, “though you being there definitely didn't hurt. But because I finally had space and freedom and time to figure out what my work actually looks like when I'm not desperate.”

“Jess, what are you saying?”

“I'm saying I submitted the winter fair application this morning. Before we left for the demonstration.” She watched his face transform—shock to hope to something like joy. “I'm staying in Elken Grove. I'm building my career here, on my terms.”

“You're staying.” He said it like a prayer.

“I'm staying.” She moved closer, her heart pounding. “But Wayne, I need you to understand—I'm not staying for you. I'm staying for me. For my art, for my career, for the life I want to build.”

“I know. I get it.” He reached for her hands. “But Jess? Can I—can we—” He stopped, took a breath. “I want to be part of that life. If you'll let me. I want you in my barn, in my space, in my life. I want to wake up with you and work beside you and figure out how to build something real together. I’m scared I'll probably panic sometimes. I know I'll mess up. But I'm asking anyway—will you give me the chance?”