by J. H. Croix
She glanced up with a smile, a hint of vulnerability flickering in her eyes. Rounding the counter, I leaned over as she flipped a pancake, pressing my lips to her cheek.
“Good morning. You didn’t have to make pancakes.”
Her eyes caught mine as she turned the burner down. “We need to eat, and I love to cook. Coffee is ready,” she said, gesturing over her shoulder. “I have a lot of shoveling to do. You don’t…”
Oh, hell no. That I needed to be a we in that sentence. “Don’t even try to tell me I don’t need to help. I’m glad to. When does your driveway get plowed?” I asked, recalling she’d mentioned last night she expected her plow guy to come during the night.
“Looks like he came during the night, but it kept snowing. I’m sure he’ll be by again today.”
“It’s still snowing,” I commented with a laugh, as I poured some coffee and glanced to the windows.
“Do you need any cream?” she asked as I took a sip.
“Nope, I like my coffee black.”
Rounding to the opposite side of the island where the stove was, I slipped onto a stool and watched as she finished the pancakes.
After a delicious breakfast, a round of shoveling, and the plow guy coming by to clear her drive, Harlow insisted we should go into town for lunch. I was happy to go along with whatever she wanted. I’d taken a little time to check online to zap some work emails about personnel matters and loop Owen in on some of the project issues with the new company.
It wasn’t a surprise, but a few of the engineers had tendered their resignations and were being territorial about the designs and patents. With this particular company, the prior owners had done a decent job of preparing staff for the transition, but it didn’t mean people weren’t cranky about things.
Harlow drove us into town, pulling up in front of what appeared to be a cute little café with a colorful sign that said Firehouse Café. Glancing to me, she said, “This is one of my favorite places here. It’s in the original firehouse for the town. She has amazing sandwiches and delicious coffee. After all that shoveling, I’m starving.”
Following her inside, I glanced around. What I assumed was once the garage had been transformed into a seating area for the café. The concrete floor had been stained a soft blue, the old fire pole was painted with bright flowers, and the windowsills were pink, with a variety of artwork on the walls. Holiday lights were strung about the windows, the fire pole, and even fashioned into a few stars on the walls. It was a rather cheery place.
Harlow slipped her hand through my elbow, stiffening when she realized what she had done. She started to pull it back, but I caught it with my hand. “Going to try to pretend we’re not together this morning?” I teased.
She looked at me, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth and her cheeks flushing before her gaze sobered quickly. It was as if a shadow had fallen across her. If we had been anywhere other than a public place, I would’ve asked her if she was okay. I almost kissed her, right then and there, but then someone called her name and she turned away.
“Harlow! So good to see you, dear. I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you two dropped off the supplies yesterday. You got everything I needed and then some, so thank you.”
The woman speaking came out from behind the counter. The seating in the café was to one side, with a counter and an open kitchen to the other. The woman had dark hair streaked with silver, twisted into a braid. She was round and warm and motherly. Her brown gaze landed on me curiously as she approached us.
“No problem,” Harlow said. She glanced at me. “This is Max, he’s…”
“Her boyfriend,” I said, finishing her sentence and holding my hand out to the woman.
The woman’s eyes crinkled at the corners with her smile. “Janet,” she said, firmly giving my hand a shake. Her gaze shifted to Harlow. “Well, it looks like you’ve been keeping secrets.”
Harlow’s cheeks went pink, and she shook her head. I imagined if I weren’t there, she would be downplaying this. I’d decided to take the direct approach with her. I meant everything I said, and I hoped like hell it would wear down the walls of her resistance eventually. I didn’t know everything that lay behind her wariness, but I knew she was well-fortified.
“We’re starving,” Harlow announced, electing not to reply to Janet’s comment. “We shoveled last night and then again this morning.”
Janet chuckled as she gestured toward a table by the windows and started walking in that direction. “Oh, I know all about shoveling. I prefer to keep the storms under a foot. Any more than that, and I need help with shoveling at home and here.”
Janet seated us at a table by the windows with a clear view of Main Street, which was busy with cars and people walking along the sidewalks.
“I know Harlow’s favorite coffee, but what can I get you?” Janet asked.
“As long as it’s strong, I’ll take the house coffee, straight black.”
“Coming right up. Take a look at the menu, and I’ll get your order when I come back in a few minutes.”
After Janet returned with our coffees, she chatted about a few things while she took our orders. “You know, Ward mentioned that some guy you used to work with in Montana applied for a position on one of the crews here. Any idea who that is? I told him if it’s an old friend of yours, I’m sure he’s a good guy,” Janet said conversationally as I flipped through the menu after Harlow had ordered.
I looked up in time to see Harlow’s face had gone pale. “You don’t happen to know his name, do you?”
“Sure, some guy named Cliff.”
If I thought Harlow’s expression had been pale before, it was stark white now. Her eyes shuttered, and her features went tense. Janet turned away momentarily, distracted by someone asking her something from a table nearby. When she turned back, I ordered a salmon burger and waited until Janet was well out of earshot, on her way to the kitchen.
I’d told myself I would try to keep things light today, but I couldn’t take the pain in Harlow’s eyes.
“Are you okay?”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Harlow
Max’s question was expected, yet when I looked into his eyes and sensed he could see how emotionally rattled I was, anxiety spun in my chest, tightening around my heart like a vise. I would’ve given anything to tell him what was going on inside, for him to tell me Cliff was a jerk and that I had made it through to the other side. I needed reassurance. I needed to lean on someone.
But I had to lean on myself. Not that I needed anything else to give me a blindingly obvious reminder of how alone I was in the world. Hearing that Cliff was trying to transfer here to one of the hotshot crews was a brutally painful reminder. I could not expect anyone else to be there for me. Whenever I did that, the consequences were disastrous for my emotional sanity.
“I’m fine. It’s just kind of weird to hear about that guy,” I belatedly replied.
Max stared at me, his gaze far more perceptive than I preferred. “What’s weird about it?” he asked.
I sensed he was being careful and concerned about how I might respond, and that bothered me. I didn’t need anyone reading into me. What I said next surprised me. I suppose, in hindsight, it was pure reaction. I was brutally honest.
“Well, I guess it’s weird because we used to date. Or, I guess I should say, I thought we were dating. Until I found out he was fucking two other women at the same time. I didn’t find that out until after I got pregnant and had a miscarriage.”
My words landed like a rock on the table between us. Max’s eyes widened
slightly, and then narrowed.
“What?” he asked, his tone low.
I had never seen Max angry, but I felt certain he was furious right now, and I wanted to cry. I was well over Cliff, but it didn’t change how emotionally traumatic the miscarriage had been. I’d gotten my feelings all tangled up into this crazy, wishful idea of a happily-ever-after package that didn’t exist. It had been an unplanne
d pregnancy, and then I pinned a bunch of hopes on it, thinking something could come of it. No matter how much of an ass Cliff had turned out to be, I had wanted things to work at the time.
More than anything, all my life, I had craved stability and someone to love me. I recalled my therapist’s words: “That’s an inside job.” I also recalled her pointing out that while many children didn’t get what they needed from their parents, it didn’t change the fact that they had to figure it out on their own as adults. Life wasn’t fair, and the world didn’t owe anyone anything.
My therapist hadn’t said that last part, she was kinder than that, but it was the truth and something I reminded myself of often. I couldn’t bank on anyone being there for me.
As I looked over at Max and saw the anger in his eyes, I wished I could trick myself again and hope for something that would never be.
“He’s a fucking asshole,” Max said flatly. I hadn’t gotten around to answering his vague what question, but it didn’t really matter.
“Well, yeah, and I’m the idiot who got involved with him,” I replied, weariness rolling through me.
Max reached over, catching my hand in his, his grip warm, strong, and sure.
“You’re not the idiot. No one’s an idiot for trusting other people. People do shitty things. It’s not the fault of the people on the other end. Please tell me you’re going to let Ward know he shouldn’t even consider this guy.”
“Max, I can’t tell Ward who to hire,” I protested.
“Fair enough, but you can tell him this guy’s a fucking asshole. That has nothing to do with you. Anyone who treats you like that is an dick and doesn’t deserve a chance to weasel his way back into your life.”
“Max, it wasn’t like my pregnancy was planned. In fact, that pregnancy is why I stopped taking the pill and switched to an IUD. When I’m out in the field, my schedule is a little nuts. I’m not saying Cliff’s a good guy. I’m just saying…”
My words ran out because I didn’t know quite what to say. The idea of Cliff working anywhere near me stressed me right the hell out. Not because I still carried any feelings for him, but because of what he represented and his link to a very painful time in my life.
“Lots of us don’t plan on things that happen. That’s not a license to screw around with two people and leave you to deal with a miscarriage on your own. That’s what happened, right?” he asked, his eyes fierce.
Nodding, I swallowed through the tightness in my throat. Hearing it spelled out so plainly stung a little. It was like the scab over an old wound had been torn open. I was okay, but this was a painful reminder of how not okay I’d been in the aftermath of that.
I felt as if Max was willing me to hear him. All I knew was I was suddenly overwhelmed emotionally, and I didn’t want to try to process any of this in the middle of downtown Willow Brook.
“I’ll let Ward know things didn’t end on a good note, but that’s it. I don’t want everyone to know what went down. I’m sorry I dumped that on you. I was shocked when Janet told me he’d applied here, and I wasn’t really thinking,” I explained.
Max was quiet, his gaze considering. I didn’t know what he was thinking, and I had so many questions. A motion caught my eye, and I looked over to see Janet threading through the tables with our food. Her interruption was welcome, if only because it automatically changed the subject.
As we were walking out a little while later, Max reached for my hand, glancing down. “I know you think you’ve pegged me, but you haven’t. You didn’t deserve what that asshole did. I’m not sure what you’re thinking, but don’t write us off.”
Though the reason for the crew schedules getting rearranged made perfect sense, a part of me wished my crew was on duty for local calls this week. When winter rolled around, we mostly handled local calls. For obvious reasons, what with the landscape being blanketed in snow, fires in the backcountry died down in the winter. We handled occasional controlled burns because early and late winter offered good conditions for that. Otherwise, the three hotshot crews housed out of Willow Brook Fire & Rescue took turns covering local calls, both in town and the surrounding area.
Max’s unexpected visit had sent me spinning inside. My emotions were all over the map, and I couldn’t get purchase inside. It would’ve been nice to shoo him away because I had to work. Part of me wished he hadn’t been present when Ward told me I was off for the week because I could’ve come up with some sort of excuse. I couldn’t bring myself to lie though, and didn’t enjoy feeling like a coward. There was also the very unsettling fact that I loved having him around. A bit too much.
The following morning, I was up even earlier than usual. I would’ve liked to have said it was because I wanted to get out of bed. But no. I had to pee. I’d woken warm against Max’s side, my calf thrown over his, with my head tucked into his shoulder. His arm was curled around me, holding me close.
Even in rest, he was hard and muscled. I did not want to get out of bed. At all. But my body had some thoughts about that. In my mind, once awake, I was frantically doing gymnastics, trying to pull my wishful heart away from the ledge. I was falling headlong into everything I felt for Max and needed to save myself.
Even though the clock read five thirty a.m. in bright blue numbers, I carefully untangled myself, slipped out from under the covers, and tiptoed out of the room. The temptation to return to bed was strong. As an act of resistance, I climbed into the shower instead. With the steaming water pouring over me, I contemplated that I was staring down into the abyss of another heartbreak. I couldn’t quite believe I had allowed this to happen.
After we had lunch at Firehouse Café yesterday afternoon, and I’d blurted out the truth about Cliff, we took care of a few errands before returning home. Restless and needing something to do, I had made dinner. That mundane task had stitched me closer and closer to Max. Growing up bouncing between hotels meant I hadn’t had evenings at home for most of my childhood after my mother passed away. As a result, something as simple as dinner at home with someone was fraught with meaning for me.
I couldn’t quite believe Max was trying to tell me to give us a chance, and not to write us off, because the reality was, our lives didn’t mesh. I was here in Willow Brook, and he ran a corporation three thousand miles away.
But he’s here now. He also has a reason to come to Alaska now. You don’t have to stay here. It would be worth it to make some changes to be with Max.
See? There went my wishful thoughts, off to the races. My heart was so desperate. It wasn’t helping to spend so much time with Max, it only made me like him more. The sex alone was enough to make me fall for him. Hell, the man could practically make me come with nothing more than a hot look.
With a hard shake of my head, a rather futile attempt to shut up my wishful mind and heart, I reached for the conditioner. As I ran my hands through my hair, I remembered last night with Max’s hand lacing into my hair as he buried himself inside of me. I blushed all over simply thinking about it.
Hurrying out of the shower, I tugged on a pair of leggings and a long-sleeved T-shirt. All the while, I was trying to come up with an excuse for why Max needed to leave.
But you don’t want him to leave. More than that, you need to stop being stupid.
Every time I thought about him leaving, it was like a paper cut over the surface of my heart. The pain was small, but sharp. As I replayed our conversation at Firehouse Café, I started coffee. My thoughts spun back to Janet’s comment about Cliff. What the hell was he doing?
Cliff knew I had taken a position here. I couldn’t imagine what he was thinking.
I’d fallen for Cliff hard during my hotshot training. When I found out I was pregnant, I was shocked at first, and then I spun fantasies around it. As I usually did, because I was always looking high and low for love; I’d read into things that weren’t even happening. In hindsight, it was quite obvious. Cliff never made any promises. It was all just my own wishful thinking.
Even though I cer
tainly hadn’t planned to get pregnant, I had wanted my baby. So badly. Everything was all tangled up together. My doctor said after the fact that she couldn’t give me a definitive reason why I miscarried. I had a fall out in the field and lost the baby a few days later. Whether it was a result of that fall, I’d never know.
All of this and more illuminated why I needed to be careful about where my thoughts went when it came to Max. Not because I had any intention of getting pregnant. Rather, I needed to keep my heart from becoming vulnerable. I needed guarantees that weren’t fair to ask of anyone.
The sound of Max’s feet hitting the floor upstairs reached me, and I quickly spun away from the windows. It was just past six now, and the sun still wouldn’t be up for a while. Night was gradually fading into dawn, but light had yet to claim the darkness.
Once I heard the shower turn on, I went to the refrigerator to assess what to make for breakfast. I settled on omelets and began pulling out the ingredients. I was whisking eggs a few minutes later, when Max came downstairs.
When I glanced up, he was walking toward me. His dark hair was damp from the shower and his blue eyes were bright. With the shadow of stubble on his jaw, he was even more handsome than usual. My mind flashed to the feel of those whiskers on the insides of my thighs last night when he sent me flying with his mouth and his fingers.
My heart gave a hard thump, a swift kick against my ribs. Emotion hit me in a wave. I was in a freefall with him, and didn’t know how to stop it.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Max