Page 66 of The Fireman and the Flirt

“Probably, but not definitely. You should reach out to them.”

“They likely want to stick with college students,” Derek said. I took a brief pause from perpetually lusting and longing after him to be angry at him.

“You don’t know that for sure. And Jolene knows more than most students in that program.” I turned to Jolene, who I could tell was intrigued. “You should email, or better yet call, a researcher at the observatory whose work interests you and ask if you could intern with them a few hours per week.”

Jolene’s eyes sparked with possibility.

“I don’t know.” Derek said. I put my hand on his chest to shush him.

“Well,Iknow that if you don’t ask, you don’t get. Simple as that. And what’s the worst that can happen?” I crossed my arms. “This isn’t a rhetorical question. What is the worst that can happen if you inquire about an internship?”

“They…say I’m too young?” Jolene asks.

“Right. And if they say that, then you know. But let somebody else tell you no. Don’t tell yourself no.” If I had listened to my doubts about entering real estate, then I wouldn’t have this successful career. Sure, the market was flooded with other agents. Sure, I was young and on the shy side. But I didn’t let that stop me. It seemed I only held myself back when it came to relationships, but that was more out of self-preservation.

Jolene and Derek absorbed my TED talk in silence. She looked up at her dad.

Derek curled his lips into a satisfied smile aimed at me, one full of unexpected sweetness. “You got it, Jo.”

Derekand I hung on the blanket chatting while Jolene was having a field day with everything she could observe in this freakishly clear sky. It was nice not having a conversation around real estate or past traumas. I was happily interrupted by Jolene whenever she wanted to show me a constellation during her hunt for Mars. I loved that her enthusiasm could stretch from Taylor Swift to Ursa Minor.

“Wait, hold up. You’re joining a hockey team? Aren’t you a little old for that?” I asked, half-jokingly and half-concerned when Derek brought it up. “Can’t you take up golf or tennis?”

“I’m not that old. I can handle it. I’m in good shape.” Derek slapped his gut and laughed, which I found oddly hot. “I have to work out regularly at the firehouse.”

I quirked a quasi-lusty eyebrow at Derek’s physique. Underneath his gut was solid muscle. I knew he was strong. He could lift me up and spin me around like I was one of those signs guys held up on the side of the road.

“I remember watching your games,” I admitted, hoping it didn’t make me sound too pathetic. “I had no idea what was going on, and I didn’t get why everyone kept fighting. But you looked really cute in your uniform.”

I used to dream about Derek coming up to me after a game, picking me up in his arms, and skating us around the rink. My fantasies with him apparently either went super-dirty or super-romcom.

“I found Orion’s belt! It should point the way to Mars,” Jolene called out, one eye firmly affixed on her telescope.

“Does his belt match his shoes?” I asked.

Derek snickered.

“I hope you don’t mind that I encouraged her to look into an internship at the observatory. I realized after the fact it would be you driving her there and picking her up. My excitement got the better of me. I’ve seenWorking Girltoo many times, so I’m hard-wired to help women fight for their careers.” Derek’s firehouse schedule was already a mess. I shouldn’t have added to his plate without asking.

Derek cracked a warm grin. Most of my pop culture references likely went over his head, but they seemed to entertain him nonetheless.

“You’re great with her,” Derek said, gazing at Jolene.

“She’s so cool. Seriously.” Although, it was no surprise that Derek wound up raising a cool daughter.

Derek rubbed my back as a thank you. “Paula and I would have disagreements about raising her. She was very protective of Jolene because she was always on the small side and very sensitive. Paula was always wanting to do everything for her, but I wanted to prepare her for the world because I knew she could handle it. Now I feel like I’ve gone in the opposite direction, and she doesn’t really need me that much.”

“You got what you wanted.”

He sighed. “I know.”

“She can handle a college-level internship,” I said with zero hesitation. “Most college students are hungover or recovering from crabs. She’ll run circles around them. And I can chauffeur her if she gets it. Make your life a little easier.”

“Thanks.” He rubbed my back again to say thank you. A guy could get used to this. “A part of me will always worry about her. She’s going into high school next year, and teenage girls can be vicious to each other.”

“Not just the girls,” I said, reminding him of my high school experience.

“I remember what high school boys are like, too. Now I get why some fathers joke about locking up their daughters until they’re eighteen.”

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