Page 10 of Single Mom's Firefighter SEALs
As I’m waving back, a teacher approaches to let me know she needs class coverage this afternoon during an IEP meeting. While I’m making a note, two kids in the line behind T.J.’s class start pushing each other, and I step in to break it up.
My gaze unintentionally returns to Weston after all the activity. He’s casually scanning the room and waving to kids who say hello to him. They either recognize him from fire safety week, or they’re just excited to have a fireman at the school. To the shyer kids, his size and uniform may seem imposing; to others, he’s a rock star.
I make my way over to him, noting that T.J.’s at his usual table, next to his friend David, where the two are having an animated conversation.
As a cluster of sixth-grade boys passes by the firefighter, I approach from his other side and nearly take him by surprise. Not an easy thing to do to someone with his training. “Mr. Monroe?”
His brows lift, and his warm brown eyes sparkle with warmth. “Principal Ramirez.”
He clasps his hands behind his back, and I ignore the way it makes his chest look like he’s wearing a sculpted superhero costume.
“What brings you to the school today?” I ask. “No one cleared your visit with the office.”
“Just helping out. Part of the department’s community outreach.” He waves at another young fan at a nearby table. “Your cafeteria aides have this room on lock, by the way.”
“I haven’t seen any of you here for lunch duty before.”
“It’s time we rectify that, then.” He gives me a charming smile that definitely doesnotmake my insides flutter.
“I suppose you talked to Buck?”
Weston nods. “Saw him this morning when my shift ended.”
“So you’re not on duty right now?”
Caught out, his grin only gets more charming. “Not officially,” he says, “and unofficially, I came by to apologize for not introducing myself when I first saw you in Moon Ridge. None of us knew what the right approach was.”
I nod once, accepting the apology. “How did all three of you end up here?”
He tilts his head back and slightly to the side, and the muscles in his neck stretch and flex. “Buck was here and said there was work. Seemed like the best option at the time.”
The answer is vague, but not in a way that makes me suspicious. Only curious. Similar to how I felt afterI got over the shock of my meeting with Buck last night, I feel safe around Weston, even though I’m not comfortable with the way my body responds to the men.
“How are you liking life in a small town?” he asks.
I lower my voice so no one can overhear. “I was liking it quite a bit until the incident at the administrative building.”
“Got it,” he says. “You prefer less arson, more potlucks and bake sales.”
His joke takes me by surprise, and a little laugh bursts out of me. Even though he’s making light and seems easygoing, he never stops scanning the space.
“Have you seen anything out of the ordinary since the incident?” he asks.
“No.”
“Good. You’ve got our numbers. Don’t be a stranger, Elena.”
Something about the way he says my name—my first name, not my title—leaves me unable to move or even breathe for a second. When I do, I write off my reaction as a symptom of stress.
I pull myself together and give him a professional smile. “Thanks for coming by, Mr. Monroe. Hope you enjoy the rest of your day off.”
Later, as I’m returning to my office after the second lunch group is through, my phone pings with a text from Buck. “Tomorrow morning, I’m installing security at your place. Cameras, sensors, door contacts. You’ll get a schedule window when I have it. Keep your doors locked tonight.”
He’s telling instead of asking, and it irks me, even if I appreciate his intent.
In the early evening, when T.J. and I walk out to the parking lot, firefighter #3 is there waiting for us, a few spots away from my SUV. Calder Black gives us a curt wave but doesn’t say a word, then proceeds to follow us all the way home. He stays in his truck, engine idling, until we’re both inside the house, then he drives off.
Apparently, my emotional walls are about to be tested by three men who protect first and ask permission later.
