Page 39 of Kissing the Beach Town Fire Chief
And my heart swells at the quiet certainty in his voice.
Chapter twenty-one
Ethan
The polls closed hours ago, but the community center is still buzzing like it’s the Fourth of July. After the chaos of the fire earlier tonight, the clerk decided to hold the results until everyone had calmed down and gathered back here. Now, the big screen that was showing the live count has gone dark, replaced by a stage with a single microphone and one folded sheet of paper that everyone in the room seems to be staring at. The town clerk sits with his hands folded on the table.
The air smells faintly of smoke and coffee—remnants of the fire and the free drinks the local café is handing out. Kids run past in T-shirts with our names scrawled across the front in permanent marker. Music hums low from a speaker in the corner. Despite being one of the top candidates, I can’t help but enjoy the scene… though my heart is pounding so hard it feels like it might punch through my ribs.
It’s been years since I’ve felt this keyed up. Not even my first big fire call or my first campaign speech hit me like this.
The town clerk, beaming like he’s about to hand out free pie to the entire room, shuffles the paper in his hands. His grin makes me suspicious.
Beside me, Ami squeezes my hand. “You’ve got this,” she whispers, smiling up at me with that calm, steady warmth that’s kept me grounded all week.
I squeeze back. “Thanks.”
She’s been my anchor lately—through the campaign, the community center forums, even tonight when she was running into smoke instead of away from it. I caught sight of her talking to Maggie earlier, and I’m hoping they’ve started to patch things up. Hard to tell with Maggie; she plays her cards close.
The crowd tightens around the front. Candidates stand in a neat row with their supporters gathered behind them. Maggie is three people away from me, chin high, expression unreadable. We’ve both worked our tails off for this. And I know—win or lose—our shared goal is for the good of Seabrook, even if we disagree on how to get there.
The clerk taps the mic. “Before we get to the results, who here thinks they know tonight’s winner?”
The room erupts. Half the voices call my name, half call Maggie’s, with a sprinkling of other candidates mixed in. It’s loud, messy, and oddly heartwarming.
He lets the noise swell before holding up a hand. “All right, all right. As you know, the live count was neck-and-neck all night. One of you would take the lead, then the other. We stopped the live feed when it became clear something unusual was happening. And tonight, I can confirm…”
A ripple of murmurs moves through the crowd. I glance at Ami; she looks as confused as I feel. Maggie frowns slightly.
“…for the first time in Seabrook history, our town council election has ended in a tie.”
The room freezes.
A tie?
The words land like a dropped weight in my gut. Out of every scenario I played through in my head, this was not one of them. I glance at Ami—her eyes are wide, her mouth slightly open. Maggie looks just as stunned.
The clerk grins wider, clearly enjoying the drama. “Mr. Ethan Campbell and Ms. Maggie Whitaker each received exactly 5,092 votes. Because of our town charter, a special election will be held in the coming weeks to decide the winner. The official tallies will be posted at the hall tomorrow morning.”
The crowd’s reaction is a strange blend of laughter, groans, and scattered applause. One of the town elders calls out, “You’re telling us we have to do this all over again?”
Sana, the schoolteacher, raises her voice. “Can’t you just flip a coin?”
The clerk shakes his head. “Regulations require a special election. I hope you’ll all turn out with the same enthusiasm you’ve shown this time. This tie means we’ve got two incredibly strong candidates. Congratulations to you both.”
He steps back, leaving a restless mix of chatter behind him.
Ami turns to me, her smile bright despite the shock. “Congratulations, Ethan.”
I laugh under my breath. “I didn’t win, Ami. It’s a tie.” “So what? You didn’t lose. That’s what matters.” She leans in and kisses my cheek—a first for us in front of half the town—and my chest feels unexpectedly warm.
She’s right. I didn’t lose. And in a strange way, the tie feels like a challenge I’m ready to meet.
Maggie approaches before the crowd disperses. “Congratulations, Ethan. No winner means no loser.” “Thank you. Same to you,” I reply, meaning it.
She gives Ami a brief, unreadable glance before moving off. I look at Ami. “You okay?”
She sighs. “I tried to explain myself earlier, but we were interrupted. I don’t know when I’ll get another chance but I do feel that we broke the ice when we helped her after the fire.”
