He Sees You When You’re Sleeping: A Dark and Steamy Holiday Romance of Obsession and Secrets – Where Desire Meets Danger in the Heart of NYC

I’ve never walked into a fire station before. Walked past, driven by, but never really paid attention to the exterior and how it differs from other buildings. The large red bay doors dominate the facade, each wide enough to accommodate a massive fire engine. Above them, a row of windows reveals glimpses of the second floor, where I imagine firefighters spend their downtime between calls.

It’s Christmas, and I’m here for dinner with the crew and their families, but I’m uncertain if I overdressed or underdressed. I didn’t ask Jack what the dress attire was and felt silly sending a text after he left this morning to ask.

I take a deep breath and push open the side door, the one meant for people rather than trucks. The warmth hits me first, along with the mingled scents of food and . . . man. Voices and laughter spill out from further inside, and I follow the sounds down a short hallway.

The community room is decked out in full holiday splendor. A massive Christmas tree dominates one corner, its lights twinkling merrily. Garlands drape across the ceiling, and a long table groans under the weight of potluck dishes. I spot Jack across the room, chatting with a couple of his colleagues. He’s wearing navy pants, and his navy fire T-shirt is stretched across his broad shoulders. A wave of relief washes over me; my outfit of a simple red sweater and black slacks seems to fit right in with the casual yet festive atmosphere.

Jack catches my eye and his face lights up with a smile. He excuses himself from his conversation and makes his way over to me, weaving through the small clusters of people scattered around the room.

“You made it,” he says warmly, pulling me into a quick hug. The familiar scent of his cologne mixed with a hint of smoke envelops me. “I was starting to worry you might have gotten lost.”

“Sorry I’m a little late,” I reply, feeling a blush creep up my cheeks. “I, uh, spent more time than I’d like to admit second-guessing my outfit choice.”

Jack chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Well, you look perfect. Come on, let me introduce you to everyone.”

As we move through the room, I’m struck by the sense of camaraderie that permeates the air. These people aren’t just coworkers; they’re a family. Children dart between the adults’ legs, their laughter punctuating the steady hum of conversation. The firemen are in the large industrial-style kitchen cooking while the fire wives and girlfriends stand nearby chatting casually. Jack introduces me to so many people that the names start to blur together, but everyone is warm and welcoming. I find myself relaxing, drawn into conversations about holiday traditions and funny stories from the firehouse.

It’s quite the scene watching four firemen in their casual uniforms moving about the kitchen with grace. The food smells amazing and I can’t help but be impressed by their culinary skills. Jack notices my gaze and leans in close, his breath warm against my ear.

“Firefighters make the best cooks,” he whispers with a wink. “We’ve got plenty of practice feeding hungry crews after long shifts. It’s a requirement of the job.”

“To cook?”

He nods. “We all take turns cooking dinner, so yeah, we learn really quick how to cook. Tonight we all pitch in for you guys—our guests.”

“Can I help in any way?”

“No. You just get yourself a drink over there,” he points to a table with sodas and tea, “and I’ll go check on the pumpkin pies I made.”

I nod and make my way to the drink table, selecting a cup of spiced apple cider. The warmth of the mug seeps into my hands as I take a sip, the sweet and spicy flavors dancing on my tongue. I turn back to observe the room, feeling more at ease now that I’ve settled in.

A young woman approaches me, her curly hair bouncing as she walks. She’s wearing a festive green sweater with tiny reindeer prancing across it. “Hi there! I’m Melissa, Tom’s wife. You must be Jack’s new girlfriend?”

Girlfriend? Um . . . how do I? I don’t even know what we are.Property of Nô)(velDr(a)ma.Org.

“I’m Chloe,” I answer, hoping that’s enough.

Melissa shakes my hand enthusiastically. “Oh, we’ve all been dying to meet you! Jack’s been so secretive, but we could tell something was different. He’s been smiling a lot more lately.”

Butterflies flutter in my chest at her words. “Really? That’s . . . that’s good to hear.”

I catch a glimpse of Jack in the kitchen. He’s laughing with his colleagues, a dish towel slung over his shoulder as he pulls a golden-brown pie from the oven. The sight of him so at ease, so in his element, makes my heart swell.

Melissa follows my gaze and smiles knowingly. “They’re quite a sight, aren’t they? All that masculinity crammed into a kitchen.” She laughs softly. “But don’t let the tough guy act fool you. These men are some of the most caring, compassionate people you’ll ever meet.”

I nod, still watching Jack as he carefully places the pie on a cooling rack. “I’m starting to see that,” I say.

Melissa and I continue chatting, and I instantly warm to her bubbly personality. She introduces me to a few other wives and girlfriends, and soon we’re all swapping stories and laughing together. It feels good to be included, to be part of this tight-knit community, even if I’m not quite sure where I fit in yet.

As the evening progresses, the aroma of roasted turkey and savory sides fills the air. Jack calls everyone to gather around the long tables that have been set up in the center of the room. I find myself seated between Jack and Melissa, with children excitedly squirming in their seats across from us.

Captain Rodriguez stands at the head of the table, his salt-and-pepper hair neatly combed and his kind eyes sweeping over the gathered group. He clears his throat, and a hush falls over the room.

“Before we dig into this wonderful meal,” he begins, his voice warm and rich, “I’d like to say a few words. First, to our newest guests,” he nods in my direction and a couple of others, “welcome to our fire station family. We’re glad you could join us tonight.”

Jack’s hand squeezes my knee under the table, and I can’t hide my smile.

The captain continues, “As we celebrate this holiday season, I’m reminded of how fortunate we are. Not just for the food on our table or the roof over our heads, but for the bonds we share. This job isn’t easy. We see things that most people never have to face. But we face them together, and that makes all the difference.”

There’s a murmur of agreement around the table. I glance at Jack, seeing a mix of pride and solemnity in his eyes.

“So tonight,” the captain raises his glass, “I’d like to propose a toast. To family—both the ones we’re born with and the ones we choose. To the loved ones who support us, worry about us, and welcome us home after every shift. And to those who couldn’t be with us tonight, whether they’re working or watching over us from above. Cheers!”

“Cheers!” The room echoes with the sound of clinking glasses and heartfelt responses.

As we begin to eat, the conversation flows easily. I listen to stories of daring rescues and comical mishaps, of sleepless nights at the station and unexpected acts of kindness from the community. With each tale, I gain a deeper understanding of the world Jack inhabits.

Halfway through the meal, the station’s alarm suddenly blares to life. The firefighters, including Jack, immediately push back from the table, their expressions shifting from relaxed to focused in an instant.

“Sorry, duty calls,” Jack says, leaning in to place a quick kiss on my cheek. “Save me some pie?”

Before I can respond, he and the others are rushing toward the bay. The remaining guests watch in respectful silence as the engines roar to life and pull out of the station, sirens wailing into the night.

I turn to Melissa. “So what do we do now?”

She shrugs. “You can wait here and see how long it takes for them to come back. Some will leave knowing it’s a crap shoot. It’s up to you.”

“How long do these calls take?”

“Could be half an hour, or it could be hours.” She glances at their half-eaten plates. “At least they got some food in them this year. Thanksgiving they all had to rush out the door right as the turkey was being carved.”

“I think I’ll stay, if that’s okay. I’d like to see how this all works.”

Melissa smiles warmly. “Of course it’s okay. Welcome to the life of a firefighter’s . . . friend.” She winks at me, and I feel my cheeks heat again.

The remaining guests continue eating, but some get up and start gathering their things. Especially the ones with younger children. I don’t have anywhere else better to be, so I figure I might as well wait for Jack. I just hope it doesn’t take all night.

I join a group clearing the table and packing up leftovers. As we work, I listen to them swap stories about past Christmases interrupted by calls, emergencies narrowly averted, and the unique challenges of loving someone in such a demanding profession.

As we finish cleaning up, I find myself gravitating toward the large windows at the front of the station. The night is clear and cold, stars twinkling in the inky sky. I wonder where Jack is right now, what kind of emergency he’s facing.

My heart leaps as I spot the red truck approaching. The engines pull into the bay, and a few moments later, Jack and the others file back into the community room. They look tired but satisfied, a thin layer of soot dusting their clothes and faces and the smell of grease announcing their presence.

Jack’s eyes find mine immediately, and he makes his way over. “Sorry about that,” he says, running a hand through his tousled hair. “Just a small kitchen fire. Turkey fryer incident. We have at least one a holiday.”

I reach up to wipe a smudge of soot from his cheek. “I’m just glad you’re back safe. And look,” I gesture to the table where I’ve set aside a plate, “I saved you some pie.”

His face breaks into a grin. “You’re the best, you know that?” He pulls me into a hug, not caring about the stink of grease fire transferring to my clothes.

As we rejoin the group, I notice the easy camaraderie between the firefighters and their families. They slip seamlessly back into the celebration, as if nothing had happened. And I realize that this is their normal—this constant readiness, this ability to switch gears at a moment’s notice.

“Hey,” Jack says, leaning in to me. “Want me to show you around? Show you the bay?”

“I’d love that,” I reply, eager to see more of Jack’s world.

He takes my hand and leads me toward the large bay doors. As we step into the cavernous space, the smell of diesel and rubber intensifies. The massive fire engines gleam under the bright overhead lights, their red paint still wet from the recent call.

“This is Engine Five,” Jack says, patting the side of the nearest truck affectionately. “She’s my baby.”

I run my hand along the cool metal, marveling at the size and complexity of the vehicle. “It’s incredible,” I say. “I had no idea they were so . . . big.”

Jack chuckles. “Yeah, they’re pretty impressive. Want to see inside?”

Before I can answer, he’s already opening the door and offering me a hand up. I climb into the cab, settling into the passenger seat as Jack slides in behind the wheel.

“This is where the magic happens,” he says, his eyes shining with pride. He begins pointing out various gauges, switches, and communication devices, explaining their functions. I try to follow along, but I’m more captivated by the passion in his voice than the technical details.

As Jack explains the intricacies of the fire engine, I find myself imagining him in action—racing through the streets, sirens blaring, ready to face whatever danger awaits. It’s a stark contrast to the man sitting beside me now, his face animated as he describes the truck’s water pumping capacity.

“And this,” he says, reaching across me to point at a small button near the dashboard, “is the air horn. Want to try it?”

I hesitate. “Won’t it be too loud?”

Jack grins mischievously. “Nah, it’s fine. Go ahead, give it a press.”

Tentatively, I reach out and push the button. The resulting blast is deafening, echoing through the bay and making me jump in my seat. Jack bursts out laughing at my startled expression.

“Sorry,” he chuckles, not looking sorry at all. “I couldn’t resist.”

I playfully swat his arm, trying to look stern but failing to hide my own smile. “You’re terrible.”

“Yeah, but you like me anyway,” he says, his eyes bright.

Our gazes lock, and for a moment, the air between us feels charged with possibility. I’m acutely aware of how close we are in the confines of the cab, the warmth of his body next to mine.

“You know,” I begin. “I thought we were crossing into friend zone. Before you became WinterWatcher that is.”

Jack reaches out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “I most definitely don’t only want you as a friend.”

I subtly move toward his touch, feeling brave. “I’m glad to hear it.”

Jack’s hand lingers on my cheek, his thumb gently stroking my skin. The intensity in his eyes makes my heart race. Slowly, he leans in, giving me plenty of time to pull away if I want to. But I don’t want to. I close the distance between us, our lips meeting in a soft, tender kiss.

His lips are warm and slightly chapped, tasting faintly of smoke and pumpkin pie. The kiss deepens, and I feel myself melting into him, my hands finding their way to his chest.

A sudden knock on the truck’s window startles us apart. Melissa and her husband Tom are standing there, an amused expression on their faces. “Sorry to interrupt the lovebirds, but I’m getting ready to leave and wanted to say goodbye,” she says.

Jack and I quickly scramble out of the fire engine, no doubt I’m blushing furiously. I smooth down my hair, acutely aware of how disheveled I must look. This man has the ability to knock the wind out of me with a simple kiss.

“Sorry about that,” Jack says, rubbing my lower back in comfort. “We were just, uh . . .”

“Inspecting the equipment?” Tom supplies with a smirk.

Melissa elbows her husband playfully. “Oh, leave them alone. It’s about time Jack found someone special.” She turns to me with a warm smile. “It was wonderful meeting you, Chloe. I hope we’ll be seeing more of you around here.”

“I’m just glad the man finally made a move,” Tom says with a laugh.

Jack tenses beside me, and though I didn’t catch the look Jack must have given Tom, I do see Tom’s face fall as he realizes his mistake. Melissa quickly intervenes, giving Tom a pointed look.

“Well, I should get going. The babysitter’s waiting,” she says, tugging on Tom’s arm. “Walk me to my car, babe.” She smiles again at me. “Merry Christmas, you two!”

As they walk away, I turn to Jack, raising an eyebrow. “Finally making a move?”

“Um . . .” he runs his hand through his hair, “I might have mentioned to the guys how we’ve met several times at the coffee house.”

I can’t hold back the laugh at Jack’s discomfort. “So you’ve been talking about me to the guys, huh?”

Jack’s cheeks flush slightly. “Maybe a little. They’ve been giving me a hard time about being single for so long. When I mentioned meeting you at the coffee shop, they wouldn’t let it go.”

“And the WinterWatcher thing?” I prod gently.

“I’ve kept that to myself.”

“Oh,” I give a wicked grin, “Don’t want to share our kinky side with all the boys?”

Jack’s eyes widen slightly at my bold comment, but then a slow smile spreads across his face. He leans in close, his breath warm against my ear as he whispers, “Those are just for us.”

He clears his throat and takes a small step back, though his hand remains on my lower back. “We should probably head back to the party,” he says, his voice a little rough. “Before someone else comes looking for us.”

I nod, trying to calm my racing heart. As we walk back toward the community room, Jack’s hand slides from my back to intertwine with mine. It’s a simple gesture, but it feels significant somehow.

The party is winding down when we return. A few families are gathering their things, children yawning and rubbing their eyes. Captain Rodriguez catches my eye and gives me a warm smile and a nod.

“So,” Jack says, turning to face me. “What do you think of your first fire station Christmas?”

I look around the room, taking in the lights, the lingering scent of good food, and the easy chit chat of the people around us. “It’s been wonderful,” I say honestly. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“I’m glad you came,” Jack replies, squeezing my hand. “And I’m sorry about having to run out like that. It’s part of the job, but—”

I cut him off with a quick kiss. “I understand. It’s who you are, Jack. I wouldn’t want you any other way. It’s nice getting to know you better. You aren’t such a mystery now.”

“Merry Christmas, Chloe,” he says, pressing a kiss to my temple.

“Merry Christmas, Jack,” I reply, snuggling closer to him.