“What’s got you so chipper this morning?” Mason asks.
“Living the dream,” I tell him.
“Uh-huh, what gives?” he asks.
“Gentleman,” Captain says in greeting.
“What are you doing here today, Cap?” Mason asks.
“Janice and Kinsley are shopping today, so it’s either work through my honey-do list or come here and try to get caught up on paperwork. I’m an overachiever, and am going to attempt both. I’ll be here for a few hours, then head home and hopefully have the squeaky front screen door oiled and the shutter that blew off in last week’s storm back up before she makes it home. Then I’ll head over to Kinsley’s and fix their leaky kitchen faucet.”
“Already done,” I tell him.
He looks at me surprised. “I fixed it yesterday when I was there.”
“My daughter finally slowing down so you can catch her?” he asks amused. He told me I would have a fight on my hands.
I chuckle. “I’d like to think so. We spent the day together yesterday.” I don’t tell them that I spent the night with her wrapped in my arms or that leaving her just about killed me. I keep that to myself.
“That explains the cheesy grin,” Mason says with a knowing smile.
“Told you, man. I’m living the dream.”
“You be good to her,” Captain says. It’s stern, but he’s smiling.
“No other way to be.” If he knew how my chest ached just at the thought of leaving her sleeping in her bed this morning, he wouldn’t issue the warning. He would just know. She’s in good hands. I hated to wake her, but no way could I leave without telling her goodbye. It would be torture on a normal day, but my job comes with a level of danger, one that she grew up with. The same danger and unpredictability, that’s kept her from me the last several months. I’ll never leave her without telling her goodbye or letting her know what she means to me.
“Kins, wake up, baby, I have to go.” I brush the hair away from her face.
“What time is it?” she asks.
“Five, I work today,” I remind her.
“You have to go?” she asks.
“Yeah, I’m on for twelve today.”
Her eyes flutter open. I can’t make out their color from just the small glow of the sun starting to rise, but I don’t need to. I have them memorized. “You’ll be safe?” she whispers.
I want to crawl back into bed and soothe her fears, but I can’t. “Yeah, baby. I have too much to live for.”
“I don’t know if I can do this, Brantley.”
“We’re doing it together. I can’t promise I’ll never be in danger, never get hurt, that comes with the job. What I can promise is that you’ll always know what you mean to me and that I’ll always fight my way through whatever comes my way to come home to you.”
“What do I mean to you?” her sleepy voice asks.
“You’re my heart, baby.” Leaning down, I kiss her softly on the lips.
“Please be safe, Brant.”
“Always. Go back to sleep. Text me when you get up. If I don’t answer, we’re out on a run, but I will as soon as I can.”
“Okay,” she whispers, closing her eyes.
I give her one more kiss on her forehead. “I’ll miss you,” I say, before standing and leaving her room.
“Earth to Brant,” Mason says, waving his hands in front of my face.
“Sorry, what were you saying?”
He looks over at Josh, a fellow crew member. “We’ve lost him. Next thing we know he’s passing up beers at the Tavern to hang curtains.” They both laugh, and I join them, but we all know he’s right. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for her.
My phone vibrates in my pocket. Pulling it out, I see Kinsley’s name on the screen.
Kinsley: I can’t get back to sleep.
Me: I’m sorry I woke you, but I had to say goodbye before I left.
Kinsley: I’m glad you did.
Kinsley: My bed feels empty without you.
Fuck. I contemplate calling Shane and asking him to cover me, but I know he’s on tomorrow for twelve.
Me: My arms feel empty without you.
It’s fucking cheesy as hell, and if the guys were to read my texts, I would never hear the end of it, but fuck if I care. I’m fighting a battle, the biggest of my life. I need her to give into this. I need her to give us a chance.
Kinsley: You’re hard to resist when you say things like that.
Me: Good.
Kinsley: Please be safe today.
Me: Always, baby. Dinner tonight?
Kinsley: I’m sure you’ll be exhausted. We don’t have to.
Me: Never too tired for you, Kins. I get out of here at six. I’ll run home and
shower and be at your place at seven?
Kinsley: See you then.
Me: Have fun shopping with your mom. Oh, and I told your dad I fixed the
sink.
Kinsley: Thanks for that by the way. So Dad knows you stayed here?
Me: No, but he knows I want you. I’ve never hidden that.
Kinsley: I know. He’s even gone as far as telling me how great of a guy
you are.
Me: See.
Kinsley. Bye, Brant.
Me: See you soon, baby.
“That her?” Mason asks.
“Yeah,” I say, locking the screen on my phone and shoving it into my pocket. Before he can give me shit, the tone drops. We listen as the report of a three-car accident out on the edge of town is relayed. Jumping into action, we pull on our gear and are in the truck en route in minutes. I send up a silent prayer that everyone involved is safe.
Chapter 8
Kinsley
Anna and I spent the majority of the day out shopping with Mom. Most of that time was her telling me how excited she was that I was finally giving Brantley a chance. Anna, of course, was in agreement. She even told Mom what he told her yesterday—how sweet he was telling her he would change my mind. They went on and on about how great he is, but I have to admit it was nice. He’s a great guy, and I’ve always known that. I just hate his job.
“I’m thinking ravioli for dinner,” Anna says.
“Gah! Don’t tease me. You know I love your ravioli.”
“I know.” She grins. “I’ll see your ravioli and raise you homemade chocolate chip cookies for dessert.”
“Deal.” That’s how we spend the rest of our afternoon, baking, laughing, and eating. I’m lucky Anna had a two-bedroom place when I moved home from college. No way would I want to be living with my parents, and I love days like these. I missed her when I was away. Don’t get me wrong, I missed Mara and Lacey too, but Anna and I have been friends since kindergarten. Mara and Lacey didn’t fall into the mix until middle school. They were both new the beginning of seventh grade where the four of us became quick friends.
At exactly six o’clock, my cell rings. Brantley’s name flashes and I try like hell to fight my grin, but fail miserably. “Hey.”
“It’s good to hear your voice,” he says softly.
“Bad day?” I ask, already knowing the answer. I can hear it in the tone of his voice.
“Yeah,” he admits.
“We can cancel. It’s not a big deal.” That’s a lie. I want to see him. I spent all day hearing Mom and Anna sing his praises, and thinking about the memory of yesterday and last night. It’s taken forever for seven to get here.
“No, we can’t. I was hoping we could change plans though. How about you come over to my place?” he asks.
“Sure. I can do that.”
“Now? Can you come now? I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“Yeah, I just need to change.”
“What are you wearing?” he asks.
“Tank and shorts.”
“Don’t change. We’ll go somewhere casual.”
“Okay, I’ll see you soon.”
“Drive safe, Kinsley.” His voice is stern.
“I will.”
“Wh
at’s up?” Anna asks.
“That was Brant. He had a rough day, sounds down. He asked me to meet him at his place instead of him coming to get me here.”
“I’m sure he’s seen some pretty horrible things in his line of work.”
“Yeah. I can remember Dad coming home and disappearing into my parents’ room for hours.”
“Why don’t you take him leftovers? You guys can just stay in. I made way too much anyway.”
I offer her a grateful smile. “That’s a great idea. Thank you.” I jump off the couch and head to the kitchen, Anna on my heels. “I’ll take him some cookies too.” I grab the sandwich bags from the pantry and add a few cookies.
“This enough?” Anna asks, holding up a large plastic container of ravioli.
“More than enough,” I laugh.
“I thought you might want to eat again too, so I wanted there to be enough,” she explains.
“Did you save some for you?”
“Yep, and that finishes up the pan, so we’re not eating leftovers for days. Thankfully.”
Anna’s not a big fan of leftovers, but she hates waste. “Thank you, I guess I’ll head over there.”
“I’m proud of you, Kinsley. He’s a great guy, and I know you fear the unknown and the missed family time, but what he does, what they all do, including your dad… it’s a big deal.”
I nod. “I know that, but in my head and my heart, I’m still that little ten-year-old girl who cried herself to sleep because her daddy was called away to a big bad fire.”
“I get it. I do. Go. Don’t keep the man waiting. I won’t wait up.” She winks.
“I have to work tomorrow,” I remind her.
She shrugs. “Pack some clothes. Leave them in your car, just in case.”
“That’s a little presumptuous, don’t you think?”
“This is Brantley Price we’re talking about. The same guy who insisted he spend yesterday with you and didn’t bother asking how you felt about him staying last night, simply led you both to your room and closed the door. I’d say you’re safe to presume he wants you there.”
“You’re also presuming I want to be there.”
She throws her head back in laughter. “I know you’ve fought him on it, but I’m your best friend, Kinsley. I know you want to stay with him. Now go pack a bag.”
She’s right. Now that I’ve let myself give an inch, I want to take a mile. I want nothing more than to stay with him tonight, especially since he’s had such a rough day. I want to be there for him. I pack a bag for work tomorrow. Gathering my toiletries and shoes, I toss them in a small bag and scoop up the garment bag I laid out on the bed.
Anna claps from her seat on the couch. “My little girl is all grown up,” she teases.
“Shut it.” I smile at her. “I’m not even sure he’s going to want me to stay, but you’re right, being prepared is best.”
“I’ll carry the food out for you.” She jumps off the couch and heads to the kitchen, grabbing the reusable shopping bag containing our dinner. “I added some breadsticks too.”
“Thanks, Anna.”
“You’re welcome. Go soothe your man.”
“He’s not—”
She holds up her hand, stopping me. “He is. He knows it, I know it, hell, the entire town knows it. You need to catch up.” She points at me.
I concede with a nod. “I’ll text you if I’m staying.”
“Thank you. Have fun.” She waves.
During the drive over, I run scenarios through my head. I’m most definitely leaving my clothes in my car. I’m assuming he’s going to be okay with us staying in and eating leftovers. There was just something in his voice. He sounded exhausted and… defeated. I want to take that away from him.
He only lives about five minutes from us. I pull into his driveway and park beside his truck. Before I even have the car turned off, he’s opening my door and reaching his hand into me, tugging me out of the car. As soon as I’m on my feet, he wraps his arms around me and holds me close, burying his face in my neck. “I fucking missed you,” he mumbles.
Sensing he needs it, I put my arms around him and hug him as tight as I can. “You too,” I say softly.
“Let’s get you inside,” he says, pulling back.
“Wait, I brought dinner. I figured you might just want to stay in, and we had too many leftovers.”
He gives me a soft smile. “A night in with my girl is just what I need.” He kisses my temple. “What can I carry?” he asks, already opening the back door.
“I can—” I stop when he pulls out the reusable shopping bag along with my small tote and garment bag, then shuts the door. The whole time my heart is racing as he so casually picks up my things.
“Can you get the door for me, babe?” he asks, walking toward his house.
That spurs me into action, and I rush to follow him and open the door. “Can you put this in the kitchen? I’m just going to take your things to my room.” He hands me the bag and strolls off down the hall.
Okay then. In the kitchen, I unload the bag and start opening cabinet doors until I find the plates. I scoop out a heavy helping of ravioli and cover it with a paper towel before popping it in the microwave.
“That smells amazing.” He comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. His chin rests on my shoulder.
“You’re in for a treat. Anna’s ravioli is the best.”
“Smells like it. What else was in that bag?”
“Breadsticks, and I made chocolate chip cookies.”
“Really?” he asks, dropping his hands from around my waist. He steps away from me, and I miss the feel of him against me. Turning to look over my shoulder, I see him with the bag of cookies in his hand and shoving one in his mouth. He moans. I watch in fascination as he closes his eyes, savoring the cookie. “These,” he says, swallowing, “are my favorite. I love chocolate chip cookies. My mom used to make them all the time when we were growing up. It’s been a while since she’s made any. Shane and I need to get on her about that,” he rambles, before shoving another cookie in his mouth.
I just smile and shake my head. The microwave dings, so I turn my attention back to getting him fed. Carefully, I unwrap the plate, using the paper towel as a buffer from the hot plate, not that it gives much protection, and set it on the table in front of him. I hand him the foil-wrapped breadsticks as well. “What do you want to drink?”
“Are you not eating?” he asks, walking to the fridge and pulling out a bottle of water.
“No, I’m stuffed. I had too many cookies and a huge helping of that.” I point to his plate, “for lunch.”
“Come sit with me.” He holds his hand out, and I take it, allowing him to link his fingers through mine. He sits down in his chair and pulls me onto his lap.
“Brant, you can’t eat with me on your lap.”
“I can and I will. I told you I missed you.”
“You did.” I laugh. “You’re crazy.” I try to stand, but his hold on me, even one-handed is too strong. Not that I put much effort into it.
“You’re where I want you.” He takes a bite of ravioli. “This is great. Thank you.” He takes another huge bite. “Tell me about your day,” he says, before taking another.
I ramble on for the next five minutes, while he scarfs down his food, telling him about shopping with Mom and Anna. “Mom was quite excited to hear that we spent the day together yesterday.”
“You told her?” He stops with the last bite in midair.
“No, Dad did.”
He nods and shovels in the last forkful. “I need a shower,” he says, then tips back his bottle of water, finishing it off as well.
“Rough day?” I ask him.
“Yeah.” He doesn’t elaborate, and I don’t push. “Come on.” He pats my thigh for me to stand. When I do, he reaches for my hand again, and I follow him. We stop at the front door and he makes sure it’s locked. He then turns the lights out in the living room and kitchen. It doesn’t get dark o
ut until around nine, with it being summer, but the house is mostly dark with the lights off at this time of day. There’s only a small glow from the evening sun coming in through the blinds.
We enter his room, and I see my bags on his bed. He releases my hand and grabs them. I watch as he hangs the garment bag in his closet and places the other on the floor by his dresser.
“Ready?” he asks.
“For?”
“Shower,” he says. After pulling his shirt over his head, he tosses it in a clothes basket in the corner. I watch as he strips off his jeans, and boxer briefs, pulling his socks off and throwing them all in the hamper. He turns to face me, completely naked, and even though I know it’s wrong, I can’t help but run my eyes over him. I take in the planes and valleys of his rigid chest, and the V—the one I want to trace with my tongue—leads me to his cock, that’s currently in his fist. How did I miss that? He’s huge, and he’s stroking himself. How is this my life?
“Baby, you can’t look at me like that.” His voice rumbles. My eyes pop up to his. “I’m going to need you to strip, Kins.”
I don’t think about anything but the vision of his hard cock in his hand as he watches me. I tug my tank over my head and make quick work of my bra, letting them both fall to the floor. My shorts and panties come off with one yank, and I kick them to the side.
“Much better.” He performs one more, long stroke before releasing himself. He holds the hand that was just holding his cock out to me. “Shower.”
I take his hand, and let him lead me into the bathroom. My body quivers with excitement and maybe a little fear of what’s to come.
Chapter 9
Brantley
Without letting go of her hand, I reach in and turn on the shower. This is one of my favorite things about this house. The walk-in shower is big enough for a party, complete with multiple showerheads. It was a huge selling point for me when I purchased the house a year ago. At the time, I was thinking about coming home after a long shift and standing under the hot spray. Now, all I can think about is getting my hands and my mouth on every delectable inch of her.
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