Page 8 of After the End
Ian reached over, trying to take Rory’s hand, but Soup grabbed Ian first. Twisting free, Ian returned his hand to the steering wheel with a grunt of frustration. He shouldn’t have started this conversation in the truck while he was driving and Soup was wedged between them, but Rory had been ducking out of this discussion for months now. “You’re not bad at it. It’s impossible to be bad at this. Just tell me what you want, and you can have it. There’s no right or wrong.”
“Honestly? I just want it to be over.”
“You mean that?” He stopped before turning onto the highway, needing to look at her. “You won’t feel like you missed out?”
“Not at all,” she said vehemently. “Ellie, Lou, and Daisy are trying to make me look at dresses and flowers and cakes—okay, the cakes aren’t so bad, but the rest…ugh. I just want it done. Can’t we skip over the wedding part and get right to being married?”
He held back a grin, loving that he knew his fiancée so well.
“Fire Rescue One.” The dispatcher’s voice came over the radio, and the look of relief on Rory’s face made Ian snort. She thought she’d been saved from the wedding talk. It wasn’t over, though.
Soup grabbed the mic. “Fire Rescue One.”
“Please respond to St. Michael’s Church. Complainant spotted smoke coming from the building.”
“Copy.” Soup sounded a little strangled, and Ian shot him a warning look as he turned the rescue truck onto the highway and accelerated.
“Guess we’re not done with our shift yet,” Rory sighed.
Ian cleared his throat as he reached to activate the overhead lights. “Guess not.”
“I hope the church is okay. At least it’s a Monday, so it shouldn’t be full of people.”
“Right.” Soup coughed, and Ian elbowed him hard in the side.
Rory stared at them. “Why are you guys being weird?”
“What are you talking about? We’re always weird,” Soup countered.
After studying them for another long moment, Rory sat back in her seat. “True.”
They were quiet for the rest of the drive into town. As they drew close to the church, Rory leaned forward, peering out of the windshield. “I’m not seeing flames or even any smoke. That’s a good sign.”
“Sure is.” Ian squeezed the wheel tightly as he pulled the truck up in front of the tiny white church. Nerves were starting to set in. Rory opened her door and was halfway up the steps by the time Ian caught up with her. She gave him another of her quick smiles, and he felt it like a gut punch.
Pulling open the door, he grabbed Rory’s gloved hand. She looked startled, but didn’t pull away. They stepped into the church, and Rory stopped abruptly.
Almost everyone in town was packed into the pews—everyone except for the pastor, who waited for them at the front. Even Ian, who’d planned it, was surprised by how many people had shown up. He hadn’t sent out formal invitations, but had just asked people to be there. Apparently, word had spread quickly. He should’ve known. If anyone could spread news in Simpson, it was the firefighters.
As the door thumped closed behind Soup, Rory turned a shocked face toward Ian. He leaned down so he could talk quietly right next to her ear.
“I love you, Rory. Will you marry me?” he asked.
She turned her head to look at the grinning crowd of people again before returning her gaze to Ian’s. “Right now?”
“Right now.”
“In our bunker gear?”
“Unless you want to wait and pick out a dress?”
“No!” she blurted loudly, and then flushed. “No. Right here, right now, in our soot and bunker gear. That’s perfect.” She scanned the crowd, and her eyes narrowed on the dispatcher, who beamed, holding up a portable radio. “You guys lied about a church being on fire? That’s not right.”
“Got you here, didn’t it?” Soup asked, his face right next to theirs. Ian shoved him back a step, but Rory laughed.
“Guess it did.”
Lou slipped out of her seat and rushed toward them, as if she couldn’t restrain herself. “Rory! Congratulations! Or maybe ‘surprise!’”
