Page 3 of A Baby for the Firefighter
I didn't have a lot of friends in town, but there was one person who came to mind. One person who'd never been far from my mind since he'd returned to town a few months ago.
Without thinking much more about it, I grabbed a light jacket and headed out the door.
* * *
Ireachedthe park about twenty minutes later. It was still early afternoon and a warm summer breeze carried the smell of freshly mown grass into my nose as I scanned the area for a familiar face.
My friend was helping his cousin out with his homecare business while staying here, and around this time of day, I often found him taking a walk with one of the seniors he tended to. On a bright and sunny day like this, my chance of spotting him was high. I could have just called him on the phone, of course, but seeing him in person was so much nicer.
And a silly grin threatened to split my face apart as soon as I did. I had no idea what it was about Dean that caused this reaction in me—okay, I had a tiny inkling—but I couldn't help but feel giddy around him. Just as long as I didn’t get close enough to feel other things, anyway.
Today, he was walking Mrs. Rosewood, a sweet old lady whom I'd had the pleasure to meet before. She'd slapped my behind and told me to 'go get him, tiger,' referring to Dean. I'd told her that she was misreading the situation, of course, but she'd only laughed.
Lovely lady, really.
It seemed to be impossibly hard for people to understand that Dean and I were friends. We went way back. I'd first met him in elementary school, where we bonded over our mutual love of soap bubbles. His family had moved out of town just before our last year of high school, though, and, much like the soap bubbles of our childhood, our friendship couldn't make it over a long distance. Not with everything else that had happened in our lives. I'd become busy helping my brother raise his child, and he'd become busy firefighting and saving people. I really couldn't fault him for that.
It was kind of hot, actually.
I chided myself for the thought as I watched my friend push Mrs. Rosewood through the park in her wheelchair, but I couldn't deny that he was nice to look at. He'd been handsome when we were younger, and his physique had only become more defined as he grew into an adult.
And his warm, caramel-brown hair and his brilliant green eyes made him fucking edible.
But I would stick to eating his baked goods, rather than the goods he was hiding in his—
Don't even go there.
What use was there in entertaining dirty fantasies I would never act on? I could look and fantasize all day, but truth was, as soon as things got intimate between me and any alpha, the hormone rush became overwhelming and I ran. It had happened with my fucked up high school prom date, it had happened with the two other guys I tried dating after that, and I had nothing to guarantee me it wouldn’t happen again.
Not with Dean, though, because Dean and I were just friends.
I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and walked up to Dean instead of watching him from the bushes like a creepy stalker dude. “Hey.”
“Griff!” Dean's face lit up as he saw me and the smile he gave me made the day feel a little bit warmer than it already was.
“I thought I'd find you here.” I turned to the senior with him. “And hello, Mrs. Rosewood.”
“Hello Griffin.” The old lady regarded me with a foxy smile. “Do you two need some alone time?”
“Oh, no, that's not—”
But she was already wheeling away. I sighed, watching her go.
“I'm sorry,” Dean said. “She likes to make up saucy stories in her mind. You should see the books she keeps on her shelves.”
“I guess,” I said, looking at him and trying not to blush while I pictured what exactly Mrs. Rosewood expected us to do. But that wasn't what I'd come here for. “Am I interrupting? I didn't want to bother you at work, but...”I really wanted to see you.I searched my mind for something more reasonable to say, but I came up short. It was difficult to think standing so close to Dean. He had this typical alpha scent that was both intimidating and arousing in ways that always made me feel like I was playing with fire just by being near.
How close could I get without my hormones going out of whack?
“You're not bothering me at all. It'll be good for her to be outside in the sun for a bit.” He nodded to Mrs. Rosewood. “She doesn't get out unless I take her.”
I glanced at Mrs. Rosewood soaking up the sun, then back at Dean. It always surprised me how little he minded doing this job. Taking care of the elderly was such an omega thing, and here he was, this big burly alpha, tending to a sweet old lady.
But I shouldn't think in stereotypes like that. He'd always been kind. I liked that about him. It was why I was happy to have him as my friend.
Which reminded me of why I'd come here in the first place: not to stare at him but to invite him to hang out. As friends.
So why was it so difficult to get the words out? We'd had sleepovers as kids, for fuck's sake. I could invite him over to my place for one evening.
