Free Into the Fire by Donna Alward Page A

you?”
    “N…no.” Lord, but he had a way of unnerving her. “It’s just…I know everyone looks at me and thinks I’m…I don’t know, not that bright. I dropped out of university. I work at the drugstore.”
    “I don’t think it’s what other people believe that’s bothering you. I think it’s how you’ve seen yourself. Why do you think you’re not worthy? Why do you downplay all the work that went into running the shelter? Someone without ambition couldn’t have made something like that happen. It worked because while you didn’t believe in yourself, you believed in it.”
    He smiled softly. “When you find where you belong, it comes together. You just have to believe you can make it happen. Don’t let anyone take away what you accomplished there just because you didn’t make bags of money at it.”
    “Like you with the fire-fighting?”
    He dropped her chin and nodded. “Yes, like that. Not that I don’t like what I do. I enjoy fixing things. But I love being part of the department here.”
    “If it’s your first love, why didn’t you move somewhere where there was a regular department and not volunteer?”
    He hesitated and his eyes slid away for a moment, focusing on Moose. “This is home,” he answered simply. “And if I’m here, I can do both.”
    Moose came back and flopped down at their feet, exhausted from playing fetch. “Come on, boy, let’s get you some water,” Chris said, turning towards the house. “You coming, Ally?”
    She went with him, unsure of where they went from here. Back at the fire hall, she’d just wanted to get away. The air in the truck had felt alive, like static electricity running between them. It had gone away while they played with Moose, but now it seemed to be back again. Running between them, constrained energy, like when she went walking near the power lines and heard the low hum of live wires.
    Inside, Chris filled Moose’s water bowl. The dog drank heartily and then collapsed on his plush bed, tired out, as Ally took off her shoes. Chris untied his boots and left them on the mat. There was something strangely intimate about seeing their shoes lined up side by side.
    The house was oddly quiet, expectant. Chris took her hand and led her through into the living room. Every nerve ending in her body was on alert now. They’d made no plans, had no agenda. Except perhaps one thing, the thing they had never spoken of but lately had seemed to be in every word they said. It had been in every kiss and every touch. And right now her body was silently screaming the question—was this the moment that they’d make love again? She wanted to, so much. Wanted to know if it was as good as she remembered. Wanted to know if there was a chance for them again.
    It was quiet, so quiet that she could hear his breathing as he stopped and took her into his arms.
    They’d been leading towards this moment since that night on the sofa when he’d used his hands and lips to make her come apart. Now they stood in the middle of the room, kissing, arms twined around each other so closely not a hair would fit between them. His chest was hard beneath her fingers and she felt the rise and fall of his accelerated breathing as his tongue swept against hers.
    “You still have your coat on,” he whispered, licking her ear. “Let me help you with that.” Without looking, he ran the zipper to the bottom, shoved the jacket off her shoulders and let it drop to the floor. Then he neatly shrugged out of his navy jacket and let it fall on the hardwood.
    The cotton shirt was thin enough that Ally could feel the warmth of his skin through it. While Chris nibbled at her earlobe, she fumbled with his tie, loosening the knot and finally slipping it free. For a moment, she ran the fabric through her fingers, considering, but right now they had too many clothes on and that was the first thing that needed fixing.
    One by one, she loosened the buttons on his shirt, pulled the tails out of his