Page 1 of Chasing Mr. December

Chapter 1

Jason

“Touchdownnn! Come to Papa!”

This rookie is starting to chap my ass. Maybe I’m just bitter that my team’s only won two games this season, but Breck’s boisterous overconfidence isn’t helping. Truth be told, I wish I had an ounce of his self-assurance when I was a cub in the fire department. Not that I’d ever let him in on that.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, cubby. The game’s not over yet,” I bark.Hell, it might as well be.His team is up by fourteen and they’ve just announced the two-minute warning. I guess there’s always room for a miracle. Two minutesisa long time in football.

“Awe, don’t give the probie a hard time, Jase. You’re only jealous because he reminds you that you’re old. And your team sucks.”

Flipping Trevor the finger, I cross my arms over my chest in defiance and train my eyes on the screen as Miami’s kicker lines up his shot. Who in a million years would’ve thought this team could’ve taken my Bears by this much?

“And the extra point is gooood!” Breck’s voice grates like teeth dragging against a metal fork.

Apparently, I’m not the only one who thinks so. A large white object flies through the air, causing me to swiftly duck behind the recliner. I pop up in time to see it collide with the side of Brecken’s head.

“Someone tell this FNG to take a seat,” Matt grumbles. He must have more riding on this game than I do.

This kid would do well to rein it in a little. If nothing more than to save us from giving him any more rookie nicknames. At least calling him a cub is fairly innocuous. Not sure what it is about him that’s rubbed Matt the wrong way, though. He’s the last guy in this department to bully anyone. Yet it didn’t take long after Brecken’s arrival, and Matt had labeled him the fucking new guy.

As if the universe knew we needed a diversion from Brecken’s antics. The door opens, and three beautiful women stride in.

“Hey, what did we do to deserve this visit?” Matt springs from his chair, grinning widely like Santa came early this year as he walks over to greet his girlfriend. He takes the tray of what appears to be Ellie’s mouthwatering cornbread and deposits it on the island before placing a kiss to her temple.

“Well, between your twenty-four-hour shifts, poker night, and football season, we don’t get to see that much of you anymore.” Addison pouts. Trevor dashes over to squeeze his girl tightenough to make her squeal, then sneaks a peek inside the pastry box she’s holding.

Not to be outdone, Alex pulls Tuesday into his arms, nuzzling her hair. It’s clear why he calls her Sunny T. His face glows whenever that girl is near.

A pang of jealousy tugs at the hollow within my chest as I observe my friends with their girlfriends. As much as I’ve tried to stay focused on my career, it’s times like this when I have to admit my job can’t fill this void. That yearning to have someone to come home to at the end of a long shift. But I’ve been there, done that, and have the scars to prove it. It’s clear the universe has other plans for me. No sense fighting it.

Even if watching my friends stokes the fire of my loneliness.

“Hey, Jason, you got a minute?”

Jumping at the large, warm hand on my shoulder, I turn to find the imposing presence of Chief Roberson behind me. “Hey, Chief. When did you sneak in? Did the word get out that Dave was in the kitchen?”

Everyone quickly turns from the TV. The Battalion Chief’s arrival met by a chorus of hellos from my firefighter brothers. There are twice as many of us here than usual today given the game is on. Well, that and Dave’s whipping up his famous chili.

“Something like that.” His voice rumbles with a slight chuckle, but the humor doesn’t reach his eyes.

What the hell?Has something happened?

I hastily follow him through the kitchen. Dave’s brows furrow together as we pass by.

“Save me a bowl, will you, Dave?” The chief tosses over his shoulder. His casual tone should relax me.But, nope.

Once we reach the office, the chief takes a seat, and I quickly lower myself to the chair facing the large wooden desk. It somehow seems more imposing whenhe’ssitting behind it. Taking a slow inhale, I anxiously await the reason for his visit, feeling like a child who’s been called into the principal’s office.

“Sorry to interrupt.”

I laugh nervously. “No, you did me a favor. My team was losing spectacularly.” At least that debacle seems less painful with this unexpected visit.

Chief Roberson leans back in his chair, running his fingertips along the salt and pepper whiskers on his chin. “How long have you worked here, Lieutenant?”

“Going on six years, sir.”

Where’s he going with this?There’s no doubt he’s fully aware of my tenure. Battalion Chief Roberson is as good as it gets. But his rank alone makes me appreciate the seriousness of this conversation.

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