Chapter 4

Noah

Fuck, she was here. I’d spent way too many nights thinking about the moment when I saw Millie McDonald again, and this was about as good as it got. I was the big, tall firefighter that had rushed to the rescue, and she…

Was just as fucking beautiful as she always was.

That little smile, that wary step forward followed by more confident ones as she shook her head and then rushed closer. I moved with her, to close that gap, to stare at her wide eyed.

Because Millie was the only girl I’d ever loved.

“Holy shit, it really is you,” she said. I loved the way she raked her eyes across my body, my face, her hands rising, and I couldn’t have wanted anything more than for her to reach out and touch me. Of course, once the surprise wore off, something else rose. A flash of pain, then a cool mask replaced her spontaneous response, her eyes flicking up to meet mine. “Didn’t realise you’d become a firefighter.”

“This a friend of yours?” an older woman said, nudging her in the ribs. “Introduce us to the hot firefighter, Millie.”

She thought I was hot? I was still coming to grips with the idea women might find me attractive. Pretty sure it was just the uniform, but whatever. Millie straightened up, a flash of something in her eyes the only warning I got.

“Friend?” There was so much in that one word, pain, betrayal, anger, and I deserved every bit of it. “Noah and I went to school together. We were in the same science class in year 11.”

Nothing else. No details of what happened, what was supposed to happen, was added to her story, and I guess that made sense.

“Mrs. Simon’s class,” I replied, smiling at the other woman. “I’m Noah.”

“Annie,” the woman said with a sly smile. “So, did he look like this when he was at school? I’d have locked him down tight.”

Millie’s lips pursed, and I knew what she was going to say, so I got in first.

“Beanpole, Skeletor, the real Slim Shady, that’s what they called me.” I held my arms wide, those schoolyard taunts no longer able to hurt me. “Let’s just say I wasn’t half the man I am now.” I smiled to let Annie know it was OK. “I’m shocked Millie even recognised me.”

“I recognised you.”

She wasn’t smiling, instead looking tired, sooty, and just as beautiful as she always had. No, more.

“Not so slim now.”

Annie looked me up and down, but it wasn’t her attention I craved. Millie, she was the one I wanted inspecting every inch of me. Instead, she shook her head slightly, the muscle in her jaw popping.

“Damn, Noah?—”

This was what I had dreamed, fantasised about, Millie looking me over, seeing the man I was now, not the boy. It felt like it’d taken forever for me to fill out, but doing the necessary training to qualify as a firefighter had helped that process. I’d followed my personal trainer’s diet and exercise regimen to the letter, and after what seemed like an eternity, my hard work paid off.

“Amelia!” Millie blinked, as if casting off a spell, and I felt a very particular kind of satisfaction, because I was the one that mesmerised her. He stormed over, an older man with the red face of a habitual drinker. “Amelia…” He had more to say, but whatever head of steam he’d worked up on his way over dissipated when he saw the state of the pub. His mouth fell open, his jaw working, but no words came out, just animalistic grunts. The man recovered quickly, spinning on a heel with a snarl. “You’re fired!”

That look on his face, it had me seeing red. Then he had to go and raise his hand, didn’t he? It turned out this was to stab a finger in her direction, but he didn’t get that chance as I stepped smoothly in between them, his finger tapping my chest and not getting real far with it.

“You right there, mate?”

People overseas thought the fact we used mate all the time was a cute thing, but they didn’t understand. It could be a term of endearment or the title you’d give your worst enemy, only tone determining which. The prick’s eyes flicked up and met mine, widening for a whole other reason. He thought he was a big man yelling at a woman, but he was rethinking his life decisions now. I watched him step backwards, Charlie and Knox moving closer on automatic. They had no idea what the fuck was going on, but they’d be right there by my side, backing my plays.

“You one of the firies?” The man flushed when he took in our uniforms, making clear how redundant that question was. “Why the hell does my pub look like that?”

“We’re about to begin the investigation—” Knox replied in his best arsehole-whisperer tone. His voice could go cold as ice when needed.

“Fired?” A feminine voice came from behind us. “Fired?”

“Seems like someone is a little hot under the collar?”

Charlie was a dickhead, but he was always good for a laugh, so everyone in the fire station liked him. Suddenly that was an issue. I’d seen how girls threw themselves at his feet and never really cared until now. I shifted closer, subtly angling my body so it started to push into the space between us and Millie’s back, but Charlie just shifted sideways, watching the argument unfold with a smile.

“I’ve been flat out all evening,” she snapped, showing she did not need our protection at all. “Criminally understaffed and dealing with drunk dickheads?—”

“Oi!” came a protest from the crowd clustering closer. By the look of the guys, they were the aforementioned dickheads. I crossed my arms and scowled, making clear there’d be no more input from them.

“But I dealt with it,” Millie continued, forcing the owner of the pub to take a step backwards. “I sold people drinks and made you lots of money and then put out a damn oil fire caused by the cook you insisted I hire.”

The owner’s face went almost purple then, his piggy eyes bugging.

“An oil fire? An oil fire!” If anyone in the crowd wondered how this had all happened, they didn’t now, the prick’s voice getting louder by the second. “I paid for that training session?—”

“And I’m the only one still working for you that attended it, Jim.” Millie’s hands went to her hips.

“Holy shit, this girl’s on fire…” Charlie hissed.

“The turnover of staff has been huge…” Millie continued. There was an unspoken implication there as to why that was the case. “And subsequent training sessions haven’t been organised.”

“That’s what I pay you for.”

This arsehole puffed himself right back up again, thinking he could push a woman around real easy. Not while I was standing there. I knew a bully when I saw one and there was no way I’d stand by and watch this prick try and tear her down.

“Not anymore, right?” Millie tore her apron off and threw it at him before turning to us. “Who’s responsible for ensuring employees have proper work health safety training?” Millie asked, but that was largely rhetorical. She knew.

“A manager ensures that all staff members do the required training,” Knox drawled, crossing his massive arms. “It's the owner of the business who’s responsible for making sure proper WHS protocols are put in place.”

“Then what do I need a manager for?” Jim shot back.

“You’re about to find out.” Millie stepped back from the prick and then turned to face us. If I thought I was over the shock of seeing her again, that assumption was quickly corrected. She looked so damn beautiful when she was pissed off. Her eyes shone with all the brightness of a living flame as she took us in. “If I talk to the police, can I go?”

No, that was my instinctive response. My hands flexed, it taking all the control I had to stop myself from reaching out and hauling her in close. I’d keep her safe, look after her, find her another job, if that’s what she wanted, but I didn’t say any of that.

Just like always.

I was too much of a fucking coward at school to pursue her properly, but I wanted, needed to think that I was a whole other person now. One that had the fucking balls to step up and?—

“What about our Christmas party?” one of the blokes in the crowd grumbled. He looked around himself blearily, some of his equally pissed buddies getting grumpy as well.

“Christmas party?” My hand was on Millie’s shoulder the moment I heard the waver in her voice. “Christmas party? What the hell do you want us to do, Bruce? Drag the slabs of beer out into the carpark and sell them out of the back of my car?” Hopeful looks were quickly shut down as she broke free of my hold and went to confront the man. “When do we get a Christmas party, huh?” She jerked her thumb back over her shoulder. “Jim doesn’t even put on a pizza party.”

“Oh, well, that’s no good—” the drunk bloke mumbled but was cut off as Charlie stepped forward.

Nothing good would come from this, somehow I knew. That wild smile, the look he shot me, it was the same one he gave me every time he was about to do something really dumb.

I wasn’t wrong.

“That’s not OK,” my teammate said to the girl I wanted to make mine. “But how about this? We’ve got a Christmas party on in a few days.” He moved closer to Millie, too close, my muscles locking tight when he unlocked his phone and handed it to her. I should be the one talking to her now. I should be the one getting her number. Charlie glanced my way, shooting me a wink, making clear what he was doing. There was nothing he liked more than being a wingman, and for some reason, he’d decided he was helping me out. “You should come.”

“Come…?” I watched Millie look my way, treasuring every second as she stared back at me. Her smile hit me completely differently, lifting a weight on my heart I wasn’t even aware was there. I nodded slightly and watched her cheeks flush pink.

“It’ll be lit,” Charlie said. “We eat too much, drink too much, then maybe we could burn up the dance floor afterwards. I’m sure you’ve got a smoking hot dress you could wear.”

“Are you making fire puns?” Millie asked with an incredulous look.

“She’d love to.” An older woman snatched Charlie’s phone from his fingers and tapped in a number, then created another contact and added hers in as well. “That’s her number and mine… just in case there’s any fellas looking for a bit of cougar action?”

Charlie went a little pale at that but took the phone back and shoved it quickly into his pocket.

But he didn’t matter.

I’d move heaven and earth to make sure Millie had the best Christmas ever. Enough that she’d forget all this shit with the pub and her stupid boss. One where I’d end up with the one thing I’d been dreaming about since high school. I didn’t need gifts of socks and jocks or aftershave of questionable quality, just Millie. If I could make her mine, I’d never ask Santa for another thing.