by BJ Harvey
I look up at him and scrunch my nose, waving my hand in front of us in a ‘maybe/maybe not’ gesture, making them both laugh. “Cutting the vegetables can get a bit dicey with your eyes closed, even with my knife skills.”
“Okay, little master. How about you wow us with your skills, and Jake and I can be your sous-chefs?”
“Or . . . you could pour a coffee, sit over there and read the paper, while Dee and I cook for you.” I don’t miss the way his eyes are begging his dad to do that exact thing.
I turn in Rhodes arms and tip my face to his. “Yeah, Dad. Why don’t you go take a load off and let us cook for you? Besides, an old man like yourself must need to recuperate after such an energetic morning . . .”
Rhodes’s lips twitch and his eyes fill with amusement just as Jake starts making gagging sounds from behind us. I gasp when it clicks what I’ve said. “Oh my god, no. No. I didn’t mean,” I splutter before whirling around and pointing at the laughing teen. “You have a dirty mind, young man.”
Jake holds his hands in the air. “Hey. I said I’m focusing on my future, not that I’m blind, deaf, and dumb. I am my father’s son, after all.”
Rhodes buries his face in my neck and laughs before straightening and giving me a discreet tap on the ass. “Feed me, beautiful. Make my son’s day by letting him cook with his idol.”
And damn if that doesn’t melt my heart too.
I shouldn’t have been surprised, but every step of the way, Jake is an avid participant. He asks questions, he checks if he’s chopping the vegetables the right size, and when I correct his cutting technique to make it smoother and easier, he shows he has natural talent.
“So what do you wanna do after you finish school?” I ask while I’m greasing the pie dish.
“I kind of sway between medical school or something like a cop or a firefighter.” He nods toward the living room where Rhodes is sitting on the couch watching a football game on TV. “I see Dad go to work, and even knowing he could get hurt or worse, but he’s trained to make the best decisions and follow protocol to ensure he gets to come home at the end of every shift. It’s honorable, and I like the idea of serving the community and helping people.”
I blink rapidly, wishing I had an onion to blame for my wet eyes. “And med school? Do you want to be a doctor for the same reason?”
He looks up from the chicken he’s browning on the stovetop and studies me for a second before he nods. “Yes and no. You know about Mom, right?”
“Yeah, Jake,” I say softly.
“Right. So, I’ve always thought that if I could ever do something to help families and kids who were in the same situation, then I would do it.”
“That’s very thoughtful.”
He shrugs like it’s no big deal, even though we both know it is. “So research then?”
“Yeah. I like the idea of helping in any way I can so that other people don’t have to go through what Mom went through.”
I pause for a moment before I move beside him and wrap an arm around his shoulders, giving him a gentle squeeze. “You’re a good kid, Jake Anderson. Your mom would be very proud of the man you’ve become.”
“I hope so. I’ve got a good Dad, that helps too.”
Glancing over at his father, I sigh and—not for the first time—thank the universe for making our paths cross, and for giving him and Jake each other too.
Jake turns my way and snickers, having caught me gawking at Rhodes. “She’d have liked you, you know?”
My body jerks at this unexpected revelation. “I hope so.”
“I may have only been ten, but Dad has made sure I remember her. She was all about being positive and shining her bright light on those who need it. It helps that you’re hot and you make him laugh, and you don’t let anyone get away with shit.”
“Stop before you make me cry,” I say with a sniffle.
“What, you mean again?” he teases. When I meet his eyes, he pulls out the same charming ‘butter wouldn’t melt’ grin his father has shot me a few times. “Am I good enough for lava cake?”
“I dunno. You didn’t say you wanted to become a chef. That would’ve earned huge brownie points.”
He smirks. “Oh, I do this for fun. I figure if I learn how to cook, then the chicks will dig it. Hey, maybe you should do a video called ‘Food Men Can Make to Impress Their Dates.’”
Bumping him with my shoulder, I shake my head, trying hard not to laugh but ending up doing it anyway as we get back to the task of finishing lunch.
No kitchens or food items were harmed in the making of the meal, and not only did I get to watch Jake have a blast cooking with me, but it also gave me a new video idea—maybe even a whole new business idea—which I make a mental note of to brainstorm later: online cooking lessons for kids. Maybe a home economics course aimed at teaching the basics and working up to making things like pie and lava cake.
To make a good afternoon an even better one, Jake further proved just how great he is when he not only cleared the dishes away, but also announced he was walking to his grandparents’ house three blocks over and wouldn’t be back for a few hours, giving us even more unexpected adult alone time.
Something Rhodes did not waste any time on making the most of.
Chapter 15
Rhodes
I keep checking the clock all shift, which is never a good thing to do on a twenty-four. But today’s a little different, because in a few hours, Jake is going to be taking his driving test at the DMV.
He’s been working toward it for months. He’s studied and practiced, and if anyone deserves to pass with flying colors and get his permit, it’s my son.
Unfortunately, his appointment clashed with my shift, but my dad, Don, and Lily’s dad, Connor, are taking him together, and Jake promised to call me as soon as he gets out, whatever the outcome.
Little does he know, we’ve got something planned for him. Dad and Connor are acting as wingmen in our endeavor, because if we’re on a callout when he finishes, they’re going to bring him to the firehouse. And if we’re not, Marco and I have arranged with our Captain to run an errand that just happens to take us past the DMV office. Because nothing short of saving lives and property will stop me from being there for this next important milestone in Jake’s life.
Marco, our friend and colleague, Zach, and I are all sitting in the big open space living/dining/kitchen area of the firehouse when Scotty walks into the room, four big white bags in his hands, and a bunch of giant blue balloons trailing behind him with the strings tied around his wrist. “Scotty, what’s with the balloons?” I ask.
After dumping the bags on the dining table, he shifts the strings from his wrist to a chair then grins at me. “You only get your license once, right?”
“That’s if you get it the first time, yes . . .”
“Well, Jake’s a hell of a lot smarter than me.”
“That’s a given,” Marco calls out, earning the middle finger from Scotty, who rolls his eyes at his lieutenant and turns back to me.
“Therefore, if we’re gonna congratulate him, it’s gotta be big. Most of us have watched him grow up. You’ve gotta let us all celebrate this too.”
He’s not wrong. I was already working here when Jake was born. Marco and I met at the academy, and Scotty wasn’t that far behind us, joining the CFD a few years later. Zach has been here about eight years, but all of us at the station are like family. And our partners, girlfriends, wives, and kids are all part of that family just as much as our blood relatives are. When you put your lives in each other’s hands every single call we attend, you get close. Even Scotty.
I get up and cross the room before reaching out and opening one of the bags. My mouth drops open at the sheer amount of streamers and party horns and hats, and a shiny foil sign that says it’s fifteen feet long on the label. Quirking a brow at him, I nod at the bags. “I said a few things, not the whole shop, dude.”
“Hey. Some of us don’t have sixteen-year-old sons, and we
’re living vicariously through you. This is a big moment in a teenager’s life. First you get facial hair, then your voice breaks, and then you get your license and then you can get laid.”
I groan, Marco whistles through his teeth, and Zach throws his head back and laughs.
“Stop right there, Scotty. I thought we’d kept Jake away from you so he wouldn’t be corrupted,” Marco says, joining my side.
“Hey. I resent that,” he mutters as he spreads all the different party supplies over the dining table. “I actually learned a lot of things at the shop yesterday.”
“You did go to the party shop, right? Not the sex shop next door?” Zach muses, walking over to join us, taking in the loot, and shaking his head. “Dude, you got a piñata. This is a celebration, not a five-year old’s birthday party.”
Scotty grins and holds up a papier-mâché Tiki. “Now hear me out. Nothing says congratulations like hitting a cardboard vessel full of candy with a stick more than this.”
“That piñata is a tiki. This isn’t a luau.”
“Not my fault they were out of unicorns.”
My eyes are nearly bugging out of my head, but I let that little nugget of goodness go and move on. “Again, I appreciate you helping me out with all this, Scotty, but don’t you think you got a bit too much?”
He waves me off and pulls out a cardboard party hat before reaching up to place it on top of Zach’s head. “Look! It’s perfect, right?” The hat is in the shape of a red, black, and white racing car helmet with the words ‘Vroom vroom’ on it.
“It’s something, alright.” Zach’s lips twitch as he pulls it off and studies it.
“Scotty . . . just wondering, was the sales assistant female by any chance?” Marco asks, and suddenly realization hits.
“Now it all makes sense.”
To his credit, Scotty shrugs, his lips curling into a guilty smirk as he lifts his hands in the air. “Look, can I help it if an attractive female wants to talk me into buying a bunch of stuff for my ‘son’s party?’”
I can’t stop the chuckle that bubbles in my chest. Only Scotty would get conned by a woman into dropping a ton of coin at a party store. “Please tell me you didn’t invite said attractive female to your imaginary son’s birthday party.”
“Hey. If she calls, I’ll fess up. If she doesn’t, she got a good sale out of me.”
“Or me, since I gave you a fifty for all of this. Usually, the only person I give money to and don’t get change from is Jake himself.”
“This is for Jake. It’s an investment in his future as a stud who gets all the chicks when he’s driving around like the coolest kid at school.”
“Or, you know, he’s already a good kid and a cool kid, and he probably doesn’t need a car to get laid,” Marco says.
“Hey! Enough of that. I’m far too young for grandchildren.”
“Why are you worried? Didn’t you tell me you had to raid the emergency-condom stash last weekend when you—”
That earns my best friend an elbow in the ribs, which makes him grunt and shoot me a ‘what the fuck’ look. Zach’s eyes bug out of his head before he chuckles under his breath.
Friends, who’d have ’em?
“Wait, you got laid, Rhodes? Who’s the lucky girl?” Scotty asks, the party-supply-girl discussion all but forgotten.
I level him with a pointed stare. “She’s not a girl. She’s my girlfriend, and no, I’m not going to talk about my sex life at work.”
“You told Marco,” he retorts.
“He’s also been with me for close to twenty years, and Jake’s my god son. That gives me certain need-to-know privileges.”
Scotty tilts his head, his mind working overtime. “But wait, you have an emergency condom box? My parents would never have done that.”
“Your parents probably didn’t think you’d need them,” Luca strolls into the kitchen with a workout towel wrapped around his shoulders, his hair wet.
“Hey. I’ll have you know I went through more than my fair share of condoms when I was in high school.”
Luca smirks. “Was that third-year senior, or fourth?”
“Fuck you, Rossi,” Scotty retorts with a laugh, sobering when he catches the quirked brow of Marco.
“What have I told you about telling your lieutenant to fuck off, firefighter?” he asks.
Scotty blanches but narrows his eyes when Marco can’t keep up the act any longer.
“Jeez, Scotty. Breathe. I’m screwing with ya.”
My phone vibrates in my pocket with a text.
“Oh, and if you ever need a pick up line at a party, just pull out a party blower like this. It’ll definitely get you a laugh—or a phone number,” Scotty says as I open my messages and smile at Dee’s name on screen.
Dee: Any news yet? I was thinking I could arrange dinner for Jake tonight and send it to the house.
Rhodes: No news yet, and how come my son gets takeout to his door and I don’t? Have I not earned that privilege yet?
Dee: You earn it every time we’ve had adult alone time in the past two weeks. But it’s only once you get your driving permit for the first time, and I know that Jake likes my lava cake, so . . .
Rhodes: Wait . . . how do you know that?
Dee: ’Cause he stole your phone that night I gave you a doggy bag to take home to him.
I bark out a laugh, realizing the room has gone quiet. I turn to find four sets of eyes watching me like I’ve grown two heads or something. I ignore them and return to my phone.
Rhodes: That kid. Swear to god, he’s going to turn me gray.
Dee: Oh, I dunno, I think you’d look good with a few more grays. You could be my sexy, silver fox.
Rhodes: You’d like that, would you?
Dee: Yep. It’s truly unfair how guys can look hot with that salt-n-pepper look, yet women still color their hair until they can’t anymore.
Rhodes: I think you’d look sexy whatever color hair you had.
Dee: Smooth, honey. Real smooth. You already know I’m a sure thing. No need to sweet-talk me.
Rhodes: I’ve never sweet-talked you. I only speak the truth. Honesty policy, remember?
Dee: Damn. Can you stop being so perfect? You’re gonna give me a complex
Rhodes: Hey. You cook like a dream, you run with us even though you hate it, and never before have I seen a woman wear a pair of jeans that makes me jealous of the damn denim. Do you need me to go on? Because I’m barely scratching the surface when it comes to you, and I can’t wait to burrow deeper and stay there.
I don’t even hesitate to press send, because when it comes to Dee, she may say she’s a sure thing, but I mean every single word. The more time I spend with her, the more things I learn about her, the more I want to know. She’s a slow riser in the morning, but the minute I kiss her and roam my hands over her skin, she sparks alight like a freshly lit fuse. She’s a dream with Jake, she’s the best mom to Harvey, and the fact she and Flynn put their own lives and interests aside to keep a steady ship for their son after they split up is more than I think most other adults would ever consider.
Scotty is still proudly showing off his party shop wares when my phone vibrates in my hand.
Expecting it to be Dee, I freeze when dad’s name appears on the screen.
Dad: You better get your butt here, son. Because our boy just passed with flying colors, and I know you’re the one person he’s going to want to see when we walk out of this office.
“Fuck yeah!” I yell, earning the attention of the entire crew now gathered around the dining table. “Luc tell the Cap we’re offline for twenty minutes. I’ll have my handheld on if he needs us.”
“On it,” Luca says, running out of the room and toward the Captain’s office. As he goes to leave, the captain’s daughter London happens to be in the hallway and the two of them crash into each other. There’s no mistaking the blush that covers the young woman’s cheeks as Luca says something I cannot hear before rushing away. What was that about I wonder?
While we wait for Luc to come back, I bring up my conversation with Dee and type another message.
Rhodes: He passed! On route to see him now.
Dee: That’s awesome. Tell him congrats for me and that he’s earned lava cake on demand for a month.
Rhodes: And what do I get?
Dee: You get me on demand for as long as you want. If you wanna swap that for dessert . . .
Rhodes: Saving this text as evidence. Talk soon, sweet cheeks.
A minute later, party supplies loaded, the guys and I are headed to the DMV office, my chest swelling with pride and my heart full.
We’re only in the parking lot for five minutes before Dad, Connor, and a beaming Jake step out onto the sidewalk. ‘Drive My Car’ by The Beatles is blasting from Zach’s cellphone, and all of us are looking a sight in cardboard race car helmet hats, party blowers in our mouths, and a huge ‘Congratulations’ sign hanging from the side of the truck. As soon as we see him, the guys start cheering and clapping as I move forward and shake hands with Dad and Connor, both of them seemingly just as proud as I am. I lock eyes with my son and pull him in for a huge bear hug, lifting him off the ground as I do it.
“Thanks, Dad. One more tick off the list,” he says for my ears only.
“Your mom would be crying right about now.”
He laughs, and we pull apart, my hand hooked around his neck and pressing our foreheads together. “Got something for you.”
Jake looks over my shoulder at the guys, grinning from ear to ear. “You mean my own personal CFD cheer squad? Wait . . . is that a tiki piñata?”
I snort. “One guess who was in charge of decorations.”
“God, Scotty is something else.” He turns back to me. “Right. If it’s not this—which is fucking cool—what is it? Dee’s lava cake?” Jake’s expression is so hopeful I throw my head back and laugh.
“She sends her congrats, and apparently you have dessert on demand for a month.”