Free One Fine Fireman by Jennifer Bernard Page B

any of her photographs. Duncan didn’t look at her as if he never wanted to stop. He didn’t listen to her much at all. He’d certainly been in no hurry to get married; in fact, she still didn’t know why he’d suddenly decided the time had come. Surely a free weekend in the Hamptons wasn’t enough of a reason.
    As the driver waited at a stoplight, she watched his digital clock change to midnight. She never stayed up this late, yet she was wide awake, as if she’d stuck her hand in a socket and every nerve had been jolted awake. And she knew it was because of Kirk. His kisses, his touch, his strength . . . his shocking declaration.
    Don’t think about that . It was too much to grasp. All this time, Kirk had been in love with her? How could she not have known? Since I don’t know when , he’d said. A secret warmth filtered through her as she thought of all the times Kirk had come into the coffee shop. She’d always looked for him, been extra aware of him, felt a special zing when their hands brushed over a to-go cup and some change. She’d admitted to herself that she found him attractive, that she had a crush. But she’d never allowed herself to follow up on the idea. She was engaged. To a man who could have anyone but who wanted her. Her awe at Duncan’s presence in her life had blinded her to everything else.
    When the cab reached her house, she paid the driver and roused Pete enough so he could make it inside on his own two feet. He made a good zombie; she could probably make him brush his teeth, change into pajamas, and maybe even do some homework without him remembering a thing the next day. But her car was in the driveway and her bedroom lights were on, so she told Pete to go crawl into bed.
    Confrontation with Duncan was at hand.
    She heaved a sigh as she guided Pete toward his room. Oddly, she didn’t feel guilty about anything that had happened with Kirk. She probably ought to, and she gave it a good effort, but it went nowhere. Kirk was . . . he was . . . he was magic. He made her feel like Wonder Woman and Greta Garbo combined. He made her feel alive and desired and appreciated. Was that selfish? Maybe it was.
    Maybe it was time to get a little selfish.
    Duncan was waiting in her bed, working on his laptop. His silk striped pajama top was open at the neck, showing off the sunburn he always got when he came to San Gabriel. His mouth had a sullen cast to it, but as soon as he looked at her over the rims of his glasses, he shifted. He must have seen something unfamiliar in her expression, because he set aside the laptop and patted her side of the bed.
    “I’m sorry I upset you,” he said. “Can we give our little convo another chance, now that I’m not so distracted?”
    “Our little convo?” She stayed in the doorway, unwilling to get any closer to him.
    “You wanted to know why I thought we should get married.”
    “Right.” Truthfully, other concerns had taken over by now, but that one still loomed.
    “The thing is, I feel different when I’m with you, Mari. I don’t have to prove anything. It’s comfortable. Homey.”
    “Homey?”
    Duncan shoved his glasses back up his face, looking uncharacteristically awkward. “That sounded all wrong. What I mean to say is, I want to come home to you. I’ve been giving all my attention to my career and only a tiny bit to you. Look at the way I was at dinner. I barely heard what you were saying; you were like an irritating buzz in my ear. I’m not proud of that, Maribel. If we get married, it won’t be like that anymore. Don’t you want to save me from being a hopeless workaholic?”
    His usually charming smile fell flat. “So that’s why you need me? To keep buzzing in your ear until you stop working?”
    “Maribel. Don’t be harsh. That’s not you. You’re always so lovely and soft; that’s what I love about you.”
    “Duncan.” Her abruptness took both of them by surprise; she even jumped a bit. “What do you think of my