Chapter 1
“Well, shoot.”
Brooke Silver poked her head out of the small galley kitchen in time to see her father make a face. “What’s wrong?”
He lifted a hand in the air, one finger pushed through a hole in his knitted slipper. “I blew a gasket.”
A snort escaped her. “I hope your slipper was softer than the average gasket. Want me to grab you another pair?”
Her dad rose to his feet and waved off the suggestion. “I’ll take care of it. You’re making supper. I don’t want to change jobs, because as limited as your cooking skills are, you’re better than me.”
There wasn’t much she could say in argument to that. She went back to the simple meal she was making only to be distracted again by soft cursing from beside the front door.
“Having a tough day, Dad?”
No answer. Just the sound of something thumping against the floor then her dad shuffling out of the living room toward his room at the back of their small apartment.
She shrugged and focused on not burning the potatoes and eggs.
Their apartment, tucked into the upper corner of the garage, was small but efficient. The common kitchen and living space were in the middle, with a bedroom and private bathroom on either side. Her dad had built the addition himself before they’d moved out of the house in Heart Falls that they’d shared with Gram and Grandpa during her growing-up years.
While it wasn’t the most luxurious of accommodations, and it definitely lacked in privacy, the price was right. Small-town mechanics did okay, but it was smart to keep expenses as low as possible. Sharing a living space with her dad wasn’t a terrible thing, and they got along fine.
Yet there were times she wished for a little more space, and as her phone went off in her back pocket, Brooke let the grin come.
One reason she wouldn’t mind a little more privacy—her boyfriend, Mack.
She held her phone against her shoulder while she gave the potatoes a quick flip. “Hey, cap. What’s up?”
“Right now, nothing. It’s quiet at the station, and I’m the only one on the schedule for the night.” His voice was a deep rumble that soothed even as it lit a tingle inside her. “Want to come by later?”
She checked her watch. “Dad and I will be done with supper in about hour. You need me to bring anything over?”
“Just you.” Low and husky. Definitely something on his mind.
After nearly a year of spending time together, Brooke could not only guess what that particular thing was, she was one hundred percent on board.
“See you soon,” She hung up then slid her phone away so she could serve dinner and drop the plates on the table. “Dad. Supper’s ready.”
He joined her, and they dug into the simple meal. While they ate, Gary Silver went over a few projects on the to-do list for the next couple of days, but Brooke could see something was off.
She examined him. “You’re distracted. Something wrong?”
Her dad wrinkled his nose then leaned back with a sigh, folding his arms across his chest like a disgruntled two-year-old. “There’s no more slippers.”
Brooke had to repeat that one mentally, and she still wasn’t quite sure what it meant. “No more slippers…where?”
Gary sighed again. “The ones your Gram made.”
Ahh. It made sense now. “The multicoloured slip-ons she knit every night in front of the TV?”
“Yep. I put them all in a box. Every time one got a hole, I’d throw it out and grab a new one.” He wiggled uncomfortably in his chair, face downcast. “I hit the bottom of the box. There’s none left.”
A jagged slice of pain struck her. Grandpa had been gone for a couple of years already, Gram a couple before that, but they’d been such a part of her life for so long it seemed impossible they weren’t somewhere just around the corner.
Brooke laid her hand on her dad’s forearm. “I’m sorry. I miss them too.”
He nodded briskly, then looked as if he were about to change the topic back to engine repair and the block heater on the McMasters’ van that seemed to be on the fritz at least once a month.
Something sad yet thoughtful drifted over his expression.
“Hard to believe we’ve hit December already, yet here we are heading into the holiday season. Doesn’t feel right.” Gary shook his head. “Silly that having gone through the last of the slippers is enough to knock me for a loop, but it’s there.”
“It’s not silly to think about things we miss.”
He pushed up from the table, grabbing the plates. “No use in dwelling on what we can’t have. When it’s gone, it’s gone, and we shouldn’t sit around moping. I suppose I’m wishing for that old-fashioned Christmas feeling, but there’s not a lot we can do to make that happen.”
The words hit her like snowballs in a surprise attack.
An old-fashioned Christmas?
She’d never heard him utter that sentiment before in his life. Gary Silver was pragmatic to the core. He wasn’t staid or boring, but the man worked with nuts and bolts and believed everything had a place.
Her dad stepped around her, depositing the plates in the sink before twisting back to offer what was clearly a forced grin. “Thanks for cooking. I’ll clean up. I suppose you’re headed to see that guy.”
Brooke stuck out her tongue at the running joke between them. “You pretending he doesn’t have a name doesn’t change anything. Mack is a very nice man, and yes, I’m going to see him.”
Her father ignored her comment about Mack, instead raising a finger and pointing at her face. “You remember what your grandma said about silly faces. Next thing we know the wind will change, and you’ll be stuck like that forever.”
She snickered then slipped in to give him a hug before heading to her room for a quick wash up and to change into something a little nicer.
Spending time with Mack had been wonderful. He’d been a Canadian Air Force firefighter for a number of years. Now retired from active duty, he worked in the firefighting and emergency services industry as a civilian.
The big man was easy to talk with, definitely easy on the eyes, and everything about him fit her just right. They’d had surprisingly few squabbles considering how bullheaded she could be and the fact he was equally stubborn.
Nope, they pretty much got along like a house on fire—and the thought made her grin. Her firefighter cringed every time she used a flame-reference joke.
Their biggest issue had been finding places to be alone. Her living arrangement with her dad, and Mack’s full-time residence at the fire hall meant someone, parental or volunteer, tended to show up at inconvenient times. Between stolen moments and a few spectacular getaways at hotels, though, they’d had enough opportunities to prove they fit just right in the physical department as well.
Was she ready for more? On one level—yes. Getting to say good night and not have to leave his arms would be an awesome change. Moving their relationship into more intimate territory and someday having family was something she hoped for.
But Brooke was pragmatic enough herself to figure if this relationship was right, eventually the next thing would happen. Neither of them had enough saved up to change their living circumstances. Mack got free accommodation at the station, but he’d been sending money to his parents and paying off debts. She’d just made the final repayment on her student loans.
Pushing to see if he wanted to move in together when they weren’t able to afford a place would have been frustrating. And she wasn’t going to ask him to move in with her when Dad lived down the hall.
Just…nope. Nope, nope, hell no.
Maybe in the new year she’d broach the subject. For now, while patience might be one of her superpowers, waiting sucked.
After slipping on a clean long-sleeved T-shirt in powder blue—Mack’s favourite colour—she took the stairs down to the main level of the garage. She hauled open the oversized door so she could back her truck into the snowy winter night.
Holiday lights twinkled on the lampposts down Main Street as she made her way across town.
The fire hall parking lot held more cars than expected. Heart Falls was a small enough community that they only had one full-time firefighter—Mack—and the rest were volunteers. Brad Ford, the fire chief for the surrounding districts, also lived in Heart Falls, and as she made her way upstairs to the room above where the emergency vehicles were stored, she was surprised to discover not only firefighters, but Brad’s wife, Hanna, as well.
A kitchen ran along one side wall, and in the corner, a gleaming fire pole allowed for quick-access slides to the ground level. In the center of the room rested a table large enough for more than a dozen people to gather. It wasn’t full, but the place was far from empty.
Mack gave her a sheepish grin as she routed herself to the empty chair between him and Hanna.
He leaned in close, squeezing Brooke’s fingers. “Sorry about this. I had no idea the guys were coming over tonight.”
Across the table, Ryan Zhao offered a greeting, his jet-black hair swaying with the motion. His expression was polite as always, but a hint of amusement shone in his dark eyes. “Good to see you again, Brooke. You should just give up and become part of the volunteer firefighter team.”
At Ryan’s side, a wiry cowboy by the name of Alex approved the suggestion. “You seem to be here every time we are. Joining the team makes sense. It would make it so much easier for you to appreciate my company.”
Mack pretended to stretch, then tossed a coaster off the table directly at Alex’s face. “She’s not coming to see you.”
“That’s what you think.” Alex waggled his brows.
Masculine laughter rolled as the men responded to the teasing, but before Brooke could offer a comeback, her friend Hanna caught her by the sleeve and tugged her from the table.
The teeny brunette spoke softly but with amusement as well. “Since you boys need official meeting time, we’ll get out of your way.” She grabbed a bag off the counter and held it enticingly toward Brooke. “I brought refreshments.”
Mack looked slightly put out, but there really was no sense in sitting at his side while he talked shop with Brad, Alex, and Ryan.
Besides, the scent rising from the bag promised fresh gingersnaps. She might not be the best of cooks, but she was a top-notch cookie consumer.
Brooke patted Mack’s shoulder in mock sympathy. “Don’t worry. We won’t eat too many of the cookies before you’re done.”
She dodged his teasing fingers then followed Hanna from the dining hall into the back living space where there was a separate, more comfortable room made specifically for quiet escape. Doors led off the room to the bunkhouse and shower rooms.
Hanna settled into one of the easy chairs, turning her soft smile in Brooke’s direction. “I missed you at the last girls’ night out. How has everything been going? Do you have big plans for Christmas?”
That was a stumper of a question, because until an hour earlier, Brooke hadn’t. She pretty much had planned on following the same simple holiday agenda she and her dad had shared in the past, with Mack included, of course. Now she wasn’t so sure.
An old-fashioned Christmas? What on earth did that mean?
She wanted to think about it a little more on her own first, though, so Brooke held her tongue and kept her puzzled thoughts to herself. Besides, she had a feeling her friend, with her glowing cheeks, had some news of her own to share.
“Still working on the details,” Brooke offered simply before leaning forward and looking Hanna in the eye so she couldn’t wiggle out of spilling the beans. “What’s the special thing that’s got you shining like a vintage chrome fender flare?”
Hanna didn’t bother to pretend. “Oh, nothing too big and fancy. Just a nice family celebration with Brad, his dad, and his brother. Although we’re trying to decide if we should pick Christmas Eve or the next morning to tell Crissy she’s going to be a big sister.”
Brooke had been right. She rose to her feet to offer an impulsive hug, one that Hanna returned enthusiastically. “That’s so exciting. You and Brad must be thrilled.”
They settled back into their chairs, Hanna’s expression one of radiant joy. “We are. We decided there wasn’t any use in waiting to have a baby. Not since Crissy’s going on nine and eager to be a helper.”
“When are you due?”
“June,” Hanna said, stars shining in her eyes.
They chatted for a little longer, munching on warm gingersnaps, until the sound of chairs being pushed back and scraped along the floor echoed from the other room. The next minute, the door beside them opened and Brad marched in, Mack hard on his heels.
“Sorry for interrupting your evening,” Brad offered as he made his way to Hanna’s side. He knelt beside her chair and caught her fingers in his, kissing her knuckles while he stared at her with adoration. “Thanks for waiting for me.”
“Always.”
“Congratulations,” Brooke offered. “I heard the news.”
Brad’s proud grin stretched from ear to ear, but it was the way he carefully curled his arm around Hanna as she stood by his side that proclaimed even louder how much he cared about his wife.
Brooke made plans to get together with Hanna later in the week, then Hanna and Brad headed home, leaving Brooke and Mack standing in the dining area.
Muffled noises continued to rise from the station hall below them. Brooke had been around often enough to recognize the sounds. “Someone working on the gear?”
“Alex and Ryan are packing emergency bags down in the hall. At least they’re not in the room with us.” Mack caught her hand and pulled her toward him. “Please tell me you can stay for a while.”
Both of them had agreed there was no getting down and dirty while anyone else was in the station. As sad as that was, Brooke had something else equally important on her mind. She definitely needed to bend Mack’s ear and pump him for ideas.
Plus, although sex was off the table, there was nothing to say they couldn’t indulge in a bit of kissing during their brainstorming session.
**
It wasn’t at all what Mack had in mind when he’d called her earlier. He tugged Brooke back into the living room, settled on the couch, and pulled her into his lap.
The way she curled up against him spoke of months of familiarity, and the hole inside him that ached to be filled chimed loud and clear.
Mack had plans. Big, huge, life-changing plans. He’d been thinking about this seriously ever since the summer. Spending time with Brooke was one of the rightest things in his world and he had no intention of missing out on something so spectacularly perfect.
Only, there was one thing he hadn’t yet figured out. Possibly two. But as he curled his hand around the back of her neck and tugged their lips together for a slow lingering kiss, Mack dreamed about the ring he’d purchased a month ago and how much he wanted to slip it on her finger.
Everything about their relationship had been so comfortable from the start that he wanted this one event to be different. Not different as in awkward, but he wanted the moment he proposed to be big and memorable so they could look back on it and smile. An epic event to share down the road with friends and a family.
Which was the first reason why the box filled with the shiny ring was still tucked away safely beside his bed. The second reason?
Brooke’s father…
Mack pushed aside his concerns and focused on the woman cuddling close on his lap, stroking her fingers down his arms at a slow and steady pace that heated him up, nevertheless.
He nipped at her lower lip and she laughed, running her hands up to tangle her fingers in his hair.
She caught hold and tugged lightly. “Hey. I need some advice,” she said.
Brooke wiggled off his lap, but he adjusted her position so that her legs remained draped over his, needing that connection even as he lifted his gaze to meet her eyes. “You should definitely buy a new set of lingerie. I like your blue set,” he told her.
Her mouth fell open for a second before she rolled her eyes. “Not that you get much chance to see me in my underwear,” she teased. “It seems every time we get alone, we’re both in too big of a hurry to get naked to worry about any kind of fashion show.”
Her off-the-cuff comment caught him off guard, but he filed it away to think on more thoroughly later as he gave her his complete attention. “What’s the real question?”
“My dad was making noises about wanting an old-fashioned Christmas, and I’m not quite sure what he was talking about.” She stared at the ceiling. “But I don’t want to ask him straight out because what triggered this was discovering the last pair of slippers my grandma knit is gone. So…is he wishing for some of the stuff that used to happen when she was around? I’m not sure what old-fashioned means, but if I can guess, that will make the holiday more meaningful than him giving me some kind of list and me checking things off.”
Wow. This could be an interesting challenge.
Mack sat up straighter, his brain already looping through possible ideas. “I don’t know a ton about typical Christmas traditions—I didn’t have a hell of a lot myself growing up, being in a military family and moving all the time, but that sounds like something I would love to help you with.”
As well as being a chance to make memories of their own. A chance to maybe figure out the perfect time to seal their lives together?
Possibly a chance to impress Brooke’s father—
Not that Mack had any plans of asking the man’s permission to marry her, but having Gary’s approval and blessing would be a good thing. Right now it felt as if every time her dad caught a glimpse of Mack, his expression grew uneasy.
It was eerie, and frankly, it was annoying. Mack was a likable guy, dammit. Still, Gary managed to make him feel as if he were ten years old and caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
Brooke was already in motion. She pulled out a notebook and resettled at his side, opening to a new page and neatly titling the top Old-Fashioned Christmas Plans.
“I remember some of the things that Gram and Grandpa used to do during the holidays. I’m not sure why we stopped doing them. I guess when it switched to being just Dad and me, it became too much. It didn’t feel necessary to celebrate the same way. But there were these cookies that he absolutely loved. I can’t remember what they’re called, but making a big batch of those would be one thing we could do.” She wrinkled her nose. “If I can find the recipe.”
Mack rocked an elbow gently into her side. “That would be one task I can definitely help you with considering your talents in the kitchen.”
She gave him a raised brow. “I’ve heard rumours you’ve burnt a few meals here in the fire hall.”
“Only when you distract me,” he admitted as he stole a kiss. “Give me the notebook. You reminisce. What else do you remember?”
She handed over the book, her gaze sliding to faraway and long ago. She started slowly then spoke with more animation as the memories flooded in. Music, meals. All the things that had been a part of her world while growing up with Gary and her grandparents.
Brooke shook herself alert at one point and met Mack’s gaze, a soft smile on her lips. “You would have liked my grandparents. They helped raise me, and yet it never really felt as if they were trying to fill in for my nonexistent mom. Dad was Dad, Gram and Grandpa were who they were, and we all got along. It was pretty sweet.” Brooke was staring into space again. “It didn’t seem special, but looking back, it really was.”
Mack’s gaze lingered on her as he considered his own growing-up years. “As kids, we don’t realize what makes a memory. I remember going out to eat on Christmas Day. Depending where Mom was stationed, there was always a restaurant open, usually Chinese, and that was the simplest way to celebrate when Dad was in charge.” Brooke’s eyes widened and Mack laughed at her expression of near horror. “Don’t look at me like that. Chinese food for Christmas was awesome because it was…a tradition. And while Dad cooked basic meals just fine, something other than meat and potatoes was a treat.”
Brooke eased away, but she was nodding slowly. “Exactly. Our traditions… The old-fashioned Christmas Dad’s looking for isn’t about turn-of-the-century meals or candles on the tree.”
He shuddered. It was impossible not to as an image of a firetrap rushed to mind.
Laughter escaped her.
Brat. He offered Brooke a glare. “You did that on purpose.”
A gentle wink confirmed it before she went on. “We should focus on what we did have—the traditions we’ve skipped over the past few years. Those are our old-fashioned ways to celebrate.” She frowned, concentrating. “I wonder if we have some pictures I could go through, because I swear we had decorations to put on the roof, but I can’t picture them very well.”
“Decorations, food—including the mysterious nameless cookies of unknown ingredients. And music, but you don’t remember the exact song. This sounds simple,” Mack teased.
Brooke tapped her fingers against his lips. “You were there last year for Christmas, and you know we kept it simple. This is your chance to help me up my game. Are you willing to take on the challenge?”
“It’s exactly the kind of mission I want to take on,” Mack assured her. “We’ll have to work around my shifts here and yours at the garage, but if you can dig up a photo album or two, we can start making specific plans.”
Which meant he’d be able to make specific plans—ones concerning forever. Because somewhere in the middle of making wonderful memories there was going to be a moment that would be just right, and he would be ready.
Before Christmas was over, he was determined to complete his mission: create the perfect memory of Brooke Silver accepting him as hers.
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