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“Sweetie, are you okay?” I ask, but receive no response.
There is no time to assess her, because this structure will not hold up much longer. I sweep her up into my arms, and navigate through the debris in the living room to get her outside to protection. EMT and Police are now on scene, and they rush over to me and take the little girl.
“Where’s Tristan?” I yell to Damon, and he shrugs his shoulders.
I run back inside, and start yelling; going straight to the remaining rooms, and there he is on the floor, trying to get two adults to wake up. They are unconscious, but still breathing.
“Let’s get them out of here. This place is about to fall.”
I sling the man over my shoulder, and Tristan follows behind me, treading lightly until we are back outside.
“Still has a pulse, but shallow breathing. No obvious injuries,” I tell the EMT, while placing them on a gurney.
“All clear inside,” I say to the police officer and Fire Chief.
Each call is different, and we can’t foresee what is going to happen, but we do our best to make sure everyone is out of the house. Once the fire spreads, smoke inhalation kills people.
After thirty minutes, the fire is out, but it has compromised the entire structure This family has lost everything. They wouldn’t have survived this fire if we didn’t respond so quickly. They train us to be on scene within five minutes. Fires get out of control fast.
“Good job, bro. I couldn’t leave them behind.”
He acts like I would just leave him there. The reason we work well together is because we have a long history and have each other’s backs. He might not be my brother by blood, but that doesn’t matter in my book.
After the others have wrapped everything up, we head back to the station for shift change. We are about an hour overdue for shift change, but emergencies take precedence. Being a firefighter doesn’t have guaranteed hours because anything can pop up and it’s up to us to be there. Sometimes, it’s hard to make plans, especially on a day with a shift, because it could turn into a fourteen hour shift if a bad fire breaks out. It’s not like other jobs where you can just say you don’t want the overtime.
After that call, I wish I could get out of this date tonight, but Tristan has been pushing me hard core to do this. He’s a great friend, but this online dating crap just isn’t panning out for me. Hell, I would much rather go home and sleep than sit through another horrendous date with someone who can’t have a conversation. Intelligence is something I find extremely attractive in a woman, and up to this point, none of the girls I have matched with have any.
“I think I’m gonna cancel the date for tonight. After this, I’m exhausted,” I say, walking into the station.
“Hell no. Just go. She could be the woman you have been waiting for, Brodie. Give her a chance.”
Tristan has been hounding me to get back out there, and honestly, most days I keep myself from thinking about how lonely I am. The chances of me finding the woman of my dreams through this is highly unlikely, and I’m getting sick of wasting my night's meeting women who aren’t being truthful.
That’s the biggest thing. No one fact checks them. So, they can lie and say they are a doctor and no one would be the wiser. So, I have to take their profiles with a grain of salt, and hope for the best. Sometimes, this is frustrating.
“Fine, but if this one doesn’t work out, then I’m done. Online dating isn’t working and frankly, it’s burning a hole in my pocket.”
I take off my gear and change into my black slacks and blue button up. We are supposed to be meeting at LA VI in twenty minutes, but I might be a few minutes late. She should understand once I explain why. It comes with the job, and any woman that dates me has to understand that.
“Alright, I’m taking off. See ya tomorrow at the field.”
I grab my keys and head out the door to my truck. There is a pleasant breeze making the ninety degrees a bit more bearable. The first thing I do is roll all my windows down, and take off.
When I pull up to LA VI, my chest tightens and anxiety sets in. First dates are nerve-wracking, and then there’s the useless small talk you have to get through. When you are on a date, you are on your best behavior. Is it possible to skip all the bullshit and get down to the nitty gritty?
The restaurant is dark, utilizing lighting to brighten it up, setting the mood. There are candles on the tables, and a vase with flowers. There are only two restaurants in Grapevine that are date worthy, and Tristan said that if I take a girl to the diner, they probably wouldn’t show up. Why does it matter? It’s just food. If they are truly there to get to know someone, then where it shouldn’t matter?
The hostess is standing at a podium with a tablet in her hand, and I stand in line, waiting patiently for my turn. I notice a young woman sitting on the booth by the podium.
“Denise?”
She takes a once over of my body and smiles. “You must be Brodie.”
First impression is that she is pretty, but with her short green dress showing off her long legs, and black heels that must be at least six inches, she’s hot. We aren’t going to the club. Her profile says she is thirty-two, but she appears to be younger than that. She gets up and stands next to me while we wait for the hostess.
“I was doubting, like, if you were going to show up. Online dating isn’t exactly fool proof and they have stood me up before.”
My hands clasp together, and I try to be nice, even though I didn't want to be here. First impressions are everything, and she is not for me. Is it wrong that I prefer a woman that doesn’t wear bodycon dresses and six-inch heels? Some men might find that sexy, but I prefer jeans and a t-shirt type of girl.
