Page 8 of Burning Obsession

"I...don't?" Honestly, I have no clue. And if I’m supposed to, well I guess it went over my head.

“Seriously, Lawson. When do you get a special treat from me?”

Okay, maybe I do have an idea. I just don’t want to admit to knowing it.“Your secret admirer struck again." She sing-songs.

I sigh.

"Again?"

She nods far too enthusiastically.

"Coffee. And your favorite treat." She hands me the brown bag, the weight of it settling in my hands.

I peek inside and my mouth waters.

"Firefighter's Fuel." The monster cinnamon roll, boxed perfectly, practically fills the entire bag, nestled carefully beside the coffee. My mouth is already salivating thinking about the thick cream cheese frosting.

She nods. “Your admirer knows you well.”

“And are you still not going to tell me who it is?”

“Nope. It kind of takes away the secret part of it. You, my friend, are going to have to figure it out for yourself.” With that she turns and heads out of the bay giving a quick goodbye wave.

I shake my head. There’s no use arguing; she’s not going to tell me anyway. Trust me, I’ve tried.

For four months.

That’s how long this schtick has been going on.

Every week something shows up. Sometimes flowers, other times gift cards. Or a bread basket. There’s even been candles and books.

Last week it was a box of gourmet hot chocolate.

The items are always addressed to me and delivered to the firehouse. Never signed, and no one will tell me anything. If it’s not delivered, then somehow it ends up waiting at the firehouse door. But nobody has ever seen who drops it off.

If they do, they're not talking. Which makes this station completely useless. I've interrogated every firefighter here. Hell, I even asked the captain and the mailman.

Nothing.

But Fifi is different.

She definitely knows. I can see it every time I ask. That tiny twitch at the corner of her mouth and the sparkle in her eyes give her away.

I glance down at the bag again, and all I can smell is the delicious treat waiting for me. I’m not turning it away. But I wish I knew who sent it. One, so I can tell them thank you, and also, to stop. The gifts, although appreciated, are not needed and they're starting to make me feel uncomfortable.

My shift is over and instead of devouring my treat here, I decide to head home. My bed has been calling my name for the last hour. I grab my duffel from my locker, pull the coffee out of the bag and take a sip before heading out. The cinnamon roll I’ll eat at home, but the coffee I need to keep my eyes open.

I pause just long enough to look back. I smile seeing Potts standing with a group of guys and actually laughing. I know the memories of the call that has him so upset aren’t gone, but maybe he’s learning how to move on.

I laugh to myself as I head toward my truck. One day I'm going to figure out who's been leaving me gifts.

One day.

At least that’s what I keep telling myself.

Chapter 2

Jake