Through The Fire. Sharon Mignerey

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      “We’re not going to date.”

      “I heard you.” Much as he suspected she needed a more solid agreement than that from him, he wouldn’t lie to her. If she was so dead set against dating, he’d find another way to spend time with her.

      “So you can stop looking at me like that.”

      “I’ll do my best,” he promised, sure that he had heard a tremor of underlying fear in her voice. What happened to you, Lucia Vance? he wondered.

      The service had just started when they came through the door to the church. To Rafe’s surprise, the church was nearly full, so they sat down in one of the rear pews. Even though he was extremely aware of Lucia next to him, the lifelong habit of being in church during good times and bad brought that awareness to the forefront. Familiar comfort seeped into him.

      His own silent prayer for Mayor Vance’s healing joined Reverend Dawson’s. Along with that prayer were others. For Lucia to find a sense of peace within this challenging time for her and her family. For a chance to know her better. For Rafe’s actions to be guided by what was ultimately good for Lucia, not simply by his own selfish desires.

      When the service ended, they remained in the pew as people made their way out of the church, many of them stopping to speak with Lucia. Some he recognized. Battalion Chief Neil O’Brien with a petite woman who was several months pregnant—the woman smiled at Lucia while the chief pointedly ignored her. Several other firefighters, including the two men he had met the previous day. Gideon Jackson stopped to say hello to Rafe and introduce his son, a little boy who was his spitting image and who quietly held tight to his hand. Luke Donovan held a toddler who had fallen asleep on his shoulder. Two other little girls with his blond hair and blue eyes skipped alongside of him and his wife, a pretty redhead who looked to be several months pregnant.

      The little girls clearly knew Lucia well because they immediately launched themselves into her arms. She responded affectionately with them, chatting with their mother. A second later, they were joined by a blonde who caught Rafe’s eye and immediately stuck out her hand, saying, “Hi, I’m Colleen Montgomery.”

      “This is Rafael Wright,” Lucia said.

      Colleen lightly touched the front of his jacket. “Ah, the mysterious owner of the leather jacket.” Her inspection of him was frankly speculative before she said to Lucia, “I’ll see you tomorrow, girlfriend.”

      When a trio of men came down the aisle toward them, Rafe figured these had to be Lucia’s brothers. All dark-haired and as tall as himself, they surrounded Lucia as though she needed protection. From him. That thought made him inwardly grin, since he recognized the posture—he had used it a time or two to intimidate guys hitting on his sisters, though they had both been older.