6. Ella

6

ELLA

S tanding on the polished steps of what can only be described as a manor—because let's be real, "mansion" doesn't quite do it justice—I clutch my resume like a shield against medieval invaders. I take a moment to breathe in the scent of blooming azaleas lining the walk, their fragrance mingling with the crisp autumn air. It's disarmingly beautiful, much like the man opening the grand front door.

"Hi, you must be Ella," he says, a grin spreading easily across his features. This has to be Will, and if all the firefighters look like him and Ethan, I might need to reassess my life choices.

"Yes, that's me," I reply, stepping through the doorway into a foyer that could comfortably house my entire apartment—twice. My voice echoes slightly off the marble floors and vaulted ceilings, and I fight the urge to check whether my mouth is hanging open.

"Welcome to what we affectionately call ‘The Manor'." Will chuckles, leading me into the heart of the house. The interior is as impressive as the exterior, with sunlight streaming through tall windows and bouncing off tasteful decor. It's the kind of place that makes you want to mind your manners and maybe curtsy.

We pass through a spacious living room where a few other ridiculously good-looking firefighters lounge, looking like they've jumped straight out of a calendar. They each give me a nod and a smile, their casual friendliness doing nothing to calm my nerves.

At the center of this tableau is the smallest yet most formidable presence in the room—Lily. She's perched on a plush rug surrounded by toys, but her big, blue eyes are fixed on me with an intensity that's a little unnerving.

"Hi there, Lily," I say, crouching down to her level. The baby watches me, unblinking, and I brace for the worst—a wail, a scream. Instead, Lily surprises me by reaching out with a chubby hand, a silent invitation that I'm more than happy to accept.

I gently scoop her into my arms, and she settles against me with a contented sigh, her previous scrutiny apparently satisfied. Her weight is familiar and comforting in my arms, reminding me of why I once loved this job so much.

"You're a natural," a deep voice observes from behind me.

Turning around, I find myself looking up—way up—into the kind eyes of Marcus, who I assume is the captain. His presence commands attention, and it's clear he's the glue holding this picturesque scene together.

"Thanks," I manage, hoping my smile looks more confident than I feel. "She's an easy baby to love."

Under Marcus's watchful gaze, I interact with Lily, playing peek-a-boo and making silly faces, which earns me bubbly laughs and coos. Her delight feels like tiny victories in a field where I'd once felt only defeat.

To my surprise, the beginnings of this job— if I get it— starts feeling less like an interview and more like a reintroduction to a part of myself I'd thought was lost—my ease with children, the genuine connections that had nothing to do with their parents' wealth or expectations.

"You're quite good at this," Marcus finally says, a note of approval in his tone that makes me want to punch the air in triumph. But I settle for a modest shrug and a quip.

"I've had a bit of practice with temperamental clients. None quite as cute as Lily here, though."

The room fills with soft laughter from the observing firefighters, their earlier reserve melting away in the warmth of the moment. It's then I realize not only am I winning Lily over, but perhaps the crew as well.

As I pass Lily back to Marcus, her small fingers linger on mine, reluctant to break the connection. It's a good sign, a hopeful one.

"Let me show you around," says Marcus after gently putting Lily down and extending a large hand to me. I allow him to take my palm. A pebble of goosebumps erupts on my spine as he leads me around his home. Everything is stunning, but my mind is too preoccupied to notice the aesthetic around me.

God, how is it that all the men here are so evidently gorgeous? Not just that, but they seem like they are genuinely nice.

Marcus, in particular, is regarding me like a big cat zeroing in on its unsuspecting prey. Tonight, he's casually lethal in fitted jeans and a simple tee that clings just right to his muscles, muscles that clearly come with a disclaimer. Handle with care, might cause heart palpitations.

"You've come at a very opportune time." His voice is that low rumble, the kind that might as well be a sonic boom in the quiet of the firehouse.

I muster my best nonchalant smile. "So has your offer," I manage, hoping my voice doesn't betray the way my stomach does somersaults under his gaze. Why does he have to look like every heroic firefighter calendar come to life?

He nods, those deep brown eyes locking onto mine, making me feel like he's peering into my very soul. "Good, I'm glad." There's a slight pause.

"Are you liking it thus far?"

My heart decides it's a great time to audition for a drum solo as I stand there, trying to look composed while internally, I'm drafting a flirty response. Unfortunately, my brain fails to deliver.

Instead, what slips out is, "Yep, just enjoying the ambiance. And the view's not bad either." I gesture vaguely around the room, then realize it might sound like I'm talking about him. Which I totally am, but he doesn't need to know that.

He chuckles, a sound that rumbles pleasantly and makes me wonder about the acoustic properties of his chest. "Glad to hear it. You fit right in with the chaos here."

I remind myself to breathe. Inhale. Exhale. Don't be weird .

Note to self. Next time you chat up a guy who looks like a Greek god, maybe prepare some witty banter that doesn't sound like it's straight out of a bad rom-com .

"I have one more test for you," he admits with a crooked little smile that does unfair things to my heart.

I should say something super intelligent, but instead, I muster a nod. It'll have to suffice.

The dining room buzzes with activity as Marcus sets down the final test—a food test. Lily, in her high chair, eyes a spoonful of mashed peas with a mix of curiosity and suspicion. I can't blame her. Peas wouldn't be my first choice, either.

"Alright, Lily, let's make this fun," I declare, loading a small spoon with the green goop. The idea is simple but daunting. Get the food into the baby, not on the baby—or me, or the floor.

I bring the spoon toward her mouth, making airplane noises. Lily watches, amused, her mouth opening just enough to let the spoon in. "Success!" I exclaim as the first spoonful goes in… and stays in. This might be easier than I thought.

But as the meal progresses, Lily decides to up the challenge. The next spoonful gets a face, and with a decisive wave of her tiny hand, peas splatter across the tray. "Oh, no, Lily, we were doing so well!" I laugh, wiping down the tray as she giggles, clearly proud of her handiwork.

"Seems you've got the magic touch, Ella," Theo comments from the doorway, his arms crossed as he watches the spectacle with amusement.

"Magic, or just really fast reflexes," I reply, dodging another pea swipe. By the end of the meal, Lily is mostly fed, and I'm only partially decorated with green spots. I count it as a win.

"Looks like you passed," Marcus announces with a grin, making it official. I'm hired.

Later that evening, after Lily is tucked in and sound asleep, the mood shifts to celebration. Theo, having declared himself the chef of the evening, dons an apron and commandeers the kitchen. The smells wafting through the house are enough to make anyone's stomach rumble in anticipation.

"Hope you guys are ready for my specialty—spaghetti carbonara with a side of garlic bread," Theo announces as he serves up heaping plates for everyone.

We gather around the dining table, the earlier formalities replaced by a relaxed camaraderie. Plates are passed, wine is poured, and the room fills with the clinking of glasses and laughter.

"So, Ella, tell us something embarrassing about yourself. It's a tradition for newbies," Ethan teases, winking at me across the table.

I roll my eyes, playing along. "Well, there was this one time I tried to impress a date by cooking dinner. Let's just say the fire department was involved, and it wasn't because of any sparks flying between us," I quip, earning a round of laughter.

"That's perfect! She fits right in!" Theo chuckles, raising his glass for a toast. "To Ella, who hopefully only sets off metaphorical fires from now on."

The dinner progresses with more stories and plenty of teasing. The guys are easy to be around, their warmth genuine, and for the first time in a long while, I feel like I'm part of a team—a family, even.

But as the evening wears on, a glance at my phone reminds me of plans I can't break. I stand, catching their attention. "Guys, this has been amazing, but I actually need to head out."

"Oh? Hot date?" Ethan teases, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

"Something like that," I reply cryptically, smiling to keep them guessing. "Don't wait up!"

Theo pretends to be heartbroken, clutching his chest. "Abandoned for a mysterious rendezvous! How will we go on?"

"You'll manage somehow," I laugh, grabbing my coat. "Thanks for the dinner, Theo. It was delicious."

"Wait," calls out Marcus, his eyes on the clock over the mantlepiece.

It's after one in the morning—a late hour for a sleepy town like this. I stand by the door, ready to step out into the crisp, still night.

"Ella, it's pretty late and this is a small town. Are you sure it's safe to be wandering out now?" His brow furrows with genuine concern. This is expected from a man who spends his days and nights safeguarding others.

I offer him a reassuring smile. "Marcus, I appreciate your concern, really, I do. But I'm a free, independent, and strong woman. I can take care of myself." My tone is light, yet firm, underscoring my confidence.

He studies me for a moment, his protective stance wavering under my resolved gaze. "Alright, just make sure to call if you need anything, okay?" His voice holds a hint of reluctant acceptance.

"Will do," I promise, pulling my jacket closer around me as I open the door. The cool night air brushes against my face, refreshing and invigorating.

Stepping out, I cast one last look over my shoulder, catching Marcus's slightly anxious expression through the flickering light of the porch. I wink, a playful reassurance, and then turn, letting the night swallow up the warmth of the house behind me.

As I walk down the driveway, my boots crunch softly on the gravel. The moon is a sliver in the sky, casting long shadows across the ground. The thrill of the night, the freedom of my new beginning—it all pulses through me like a living thing.

On any other night, such beauty would draw the romantic out of me. Not tonight, though.

I have unfinished business to attend to.