Page 3 of Nanny for the Firefighters
"Thanks, Ethan. That actually helps," I confess, surprised by the comfort his words bring.
He smiles again, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Anytime, Ella. And hey, if you ever need a break from the superhero stuff, the station's always open. We've got good coffee and bad jokes in abundance."
I laugh, the sound mingling with the sea breeze. "I might take you up on that."
As Ethan starts to walk away, something impulsive tugs at my heartstrings, an unfamiliar urge to not let this moment end. "Ethan, wait," I call out after him, my voice louder against the backdrop of the ocean's roar.
He turns, his expression curious. "Everything okay?"
In a few quick strides, I close the distance between us, my decision made in the span of a heartbeat. "I… can we walk a bit more?" There's a raw edge to my voice, one I don't often let slip.
"Of course." He smiles, and we start walking along the pier, our footsteps in sync. The fog seems to curl around us, creating a world that feels detached from the rest of Harborview, a space that's just ours for now.
We reach the end of the pier where a small, weather-beaten gazebo offers a semblance of seclusion. It's darker here, the only light coming from the occasional flicker of a distant street lamp trying to penetrate the mist. Ethan leans against the wooden railing, looking at me with a potent intensity in his eyes that makes my toes curl.
"What's on your mind, Ella?"
His directness strips away the last of my reservations. I step closer, closing the space between us, guided by a compelling mix of admiration and a sudden, intense attraction. "I'm usually not this forward," I start, my voice a whisper, "but there's something about you… something very real."
Ethan doesn't move away. Instead, his hands find the small of my back, pulling me slightly closer. "I feel it too, Ella. I wasn't sure if it was just me."
It's all the confirmation I need. Rising on my tiptoes, I bridge the gap between us, pressing my lips against his. The kiss is tentative at first, a question asked with the touch of lips, but it quickly deepens as Ethan responds with an intensity that mirrors my own. The ascension is passionate, consuming, as if he's been waiting to do this just as much as I have. He tastes of pine and the sea.
His hands tighten on my back, pulling me flush against him, and I can feel the strength of his body, the power and warmth that radiate from him. The world narrows down to the sensation of his lips on mine, his body against mine, and the soft, muffled sounds of the ocean around us.
When we finally break the kiss, we're both breathless, our foreheads resting against each other. The mist envelops us, a cocoon away from reality. "Wow," Ethan breathes out, his voice a husky murmur.
"Yeah," I agree, unable to stop a giddy smile from spreading across my face. "Wow."
He chuckles softly, his breath warm against my cheek. "I didn't see that coming when I decided to take a walk tonight."
"Me neither," I confess, feeling a lightness I haven't felt in years. "But I'm glad it did."
We stand in the muted glow of dawn, reluctant to let go, until my phone blares, shattering the serene cocoon. I flinch, the sound abrasive in the quiet morning air. I pull the phone from my pocket, the screen illuminating a message. Work for another night, courtesy of another cheater.
Another reminder why relationships don't work.
"I have to go," I say abruptly, the warmth draining from my voice as I pull away from him. The words feel cold, even to my own ears.
Ethan looks puzzled, hurt flashing briefly in his eyes. "Can I help?"
I shake my head, stepping back, building a wall between us with my reluctance and fear. "No, this is something I need to handle alone." My tone is final, a door closing.
His hand reaches out, as if to bridge the distance, but I turn away, unable to face the concern—and something more—that I see in his eyes. "Ella?—"
"Please, just… don't," I interrupt, my voice a whisper of despair. The vulnerability and connection I felt moments ago now feel like liabilities, dangers I can't afford.
I start walking fast, the cool morning air biting at my cheeks as I fight back a surge of emotions. Ethan doesn't follow. He respects my wish, standing still, watching me leave with a mixture of confusion and worry.
I reach the main street, my pace quickens to a run, and I flag down a passing cab. The city is waking up, oblivious to the turmoil inside me. I slide into the backseat, giving the driver an address without thinking. As the cab pulls away, I press my forehead against the cool glass, watching tall buildings recede behind me.
"I'm never going to do relationships," I vow quietly, the words forming a shield around my bruised heart. The risks are too high, the costs too great. I can't afford distractions, not when others depend on my strength, my clarity.
But even as I build these fortifications, a voice inside whispers, you're deluding yourself.
2
MARCUS