Call It Magic by Janet Chapman Page 0,46

when Bean and Mason threatened to lock me in the hazmat room for the entire campfire.” He suddenly sobered. “I, ah . . . I may have embellished what happened today when I called Jaycee, my girlfriend. So when you meet her tonight, could you maybe not mention that I kind of panicked when I realized the guys had left us?”

Katy gasped in mock horror. “Are you serious? The only reason I didn’t panic was because you were so calm.” But then she also sobered. “You did excellent today, Welles, and you’re going to be an amazing firefighter.” She went back to smiling when he ducked his head to hide his flush. “Aren’t you breaking rank by coming to the campfire tonight?”

He looked up, his chin rising defensively. “I think they’re a great idea. And so is encouraging parents to bring their kids to the station.” His grin returned. “Whenever we went to cities or a town big enough to have a full-time fire department, I used to throw a fit until Mom or Dad took me to visit the fire station.” He moved to the table and toyed with the handles on the canvas bag, suddenly serious again. “Ah, speaking of Jaycee,” he said, two flags of red darkening his cheeks when he looked up. “Can I ask you a sort of personal question?”

Not sure how they’d jumped from fire stations back to girlfriends, Katy merely nodded.

Welles suddenly strode to the door, looked down the hall, then turned and looked in the general vicinity of Katy’s feet. “I was wondering if you could tell me how to . . . if you could give me some pointers on . . .” He took a deep breath and lifted his gaze to hers. “Look, I’m a virgin, okay, and I want to make love to Jaycee,” he said rather aggressively, his entire face and neck now crimson. “But I need for you to tell me how.”

Katy wasn’t sure she’d heard right, but from the mortified expression etched on the kid’s face, she probably had. “Excuse me—what?”

“I’m a virgin,” he repeated. “And I only have nine weeks left before I leave for college.”

“What’s college got to do with it?”

“I can’t show up there still a virgin. So, what do I do?”

Good Lord, he couldn’t possibly be serious. “Why are you asking me?” Katy asked, fighting to tamp down the wave of anxiety building in her gut. Heck, she was certainly no expert. “This is something you should be asking a guy. Ask Chief Wolfe or Russo or Mason.” She shook her head. “No, not Mason. Ask Gunnar or Ike.”

Welles glanced down the hall again then walked back in the kitchen. “I can’t tell any of them I’m a virgin. I . . . it’s embarrassing.”

And this isn’t? Katy wanted to shout. “Then ask your father.”

“Cripes, no!” he yelped, taking a step back. “I don’t need a two-day sermon on being our family’s last chance to have a kid go to college because I didn’t get a girl pregnant.” He eyed her for several seconds, then blew out a sigh. “Look, I just need a few pointers on what a girl likes during sex is all. And you’ve got to be what . . . nearly thirty?”

“And just what does my age have to do with it?” Katy whispered—again so she wouldn’t shout. Honest to God, this was the first time she wished the alarm would sound.

He shrugged, apparently as deaf to the warning in her voice as he was clueless. “I figured by now you’ve had sex with lots of guys.”

“Welles!”

His eyes widened, and he held up his hands. “I didn’t mean that like it sounded. I don’t think you’re a—that you sleep around or anything.”

Katy sucked in another calming breath. “Okay then, let’s start with my pointing out that girls don’t like being used for practice.”

“No, it’s not like that. In fact, losing our virginity before we leave for UMaine was Jaycee’s idea. She doesn’t want to look like a backwoods hick to her roommate any more than I do.”

“Contrary to popular belief, Welles, there’s going to be plenty of female and male virgins arriving at colleges all over the world in September.”

“Were you?”

“That’s none of your business,” Katy said softly, this time to keep from smacking him. Come on, you stupid alarm—ring!

“Never mind,” he muttered as he turned away. “I’ll just ask some of my buddies.”

Well, cripes, indeed. “Oh, no you don’t,” Katy said as she stepped forward and

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