His to Defend (Lake Powell Firefighter Romance Book 2)

by Jewel Allen

  There was so much hurt in her eyes.

  I wiped the smile from my face. “I’m sorry.” She turned her face away, and I continued. “I saw you standing there, reminding me of that trip to Cabo.” I swallowed with difficulty, watching a spark of emotion in her eyes. “Brought back all those memories at that beach house. I wanted you so much. More than physically, I wanted to be close to you. I didn’t mean to hurt you, or make you feel like I’m not taking us seriously.” I thumped gently on the steering wheel. “So there.”

  “Since I’m groveling anyway,” I said, filling her silence, “I might as well admit that I miss you every day. At work, something triggers a memory of you and I’ll be wishing I could call you. Wish I could hear your voice and your laugh. Wish I could come home after my shift and you’d be there to welcome me. I don’t even care about the physical. Just…the companionship. Someone to talk to, to make me feel like she cares, to live life with. Maybe that’s the way you’re feeling too? I don’t know.”

  I risked looking over at her. She was wincing.

  “You mean anyone will do?” she asked softly.

  “Of course not. I want only you, Kennedy.” I started with a dawning realization. “But maybe…maybe you don’t want me after all?”

  When she didn’t answer right away, I got the confirmation I needed. All my hopes, dashed to the ground. My chest tightened with pain.

  “It’s not that I don’t want you, Stratton,” she said. “But if you keep pressuring me, you just might push me away.”

  Something snapped inside me. The pressures of the past months, the tragedies, the loneliness, the uncertainty—all came crashing down on my head, making it hard for me to think straight. I thought of all the women who would gladly let me into their lives. In the past week alone, I’d gotten so many come-hither looks…

  My mouth moved before my brain could stop it. “Do you realize how many women would give anything to be in your shoes?”

  The chill that came from her side of the truck could have frozen the desert.

  I wanted to pound my head against the steering wheel, idiot that I was. ‘Kennedy,” I said. “I’m a moron. I shouldn’t have—”

  She got out of the truck and slammed the door. She stalked across her parents’ pretty yard and into their house. My still damp shorts chafed on my thighs as I took the walk of shame from the truck to the front door.

  This mistake would take no ordinary apology. If she would even talk to me after this.

  I was no saint. I was no hero. I was only human with lots of flaws, making mistakes left and right.

  I had no right to keep Kennedy tied to me.

  Maybe for her sake, I needed to let her go. Set her free so that she could live her life to the fullest. I was a drag to her sails after all.

  Through the partially open door, I saw her scoop up the kids in either arm and hug them. I could still be dad to them, when Kennedy saw fit.

  “Daddy!” Evie said, struggling out of Kennedy’s arms.

  Ben’s eyes bulged out. “Did you and Mommy swim?”

  “Yes,” Kennedy said.

  I knelt and, still holding Evie, opened an arm for Ben to run into. “We’ll have to go to the beach soon,” I said.

  “With Mommy?” Ben asked.

  I kept my gaze on him. “Maybe not with Mommy. This will be just me and you guys.”

  I stood. Kennedy’s parents were sitting on the couch, watching the whole spectacle unfold. Her mom had a slight, confused frown. Judge Davis’ eyes held the same contempt he used to subject me to when Kennedy and I were dating.

  “Kennedy.” I nodded her direction. “Judge and Mrs. Davis.”

  Kennedy kept her face averted. Her parents looked from her to me, with somber expressions.

  I walked to my truck empty and more alone than I had been for a long time. Getting behind the wheel, I started the engine. No one came out to see me off.

  In reverse gear, I stepped on the gas pedal and gunned it out of her parents’ immaculate driveway.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Kennedy

  My heart had split into two, I was sure of it. How could Stratton possibly taunt me with that insult, if he cared at all? I imagined all these women lining up to see him, and him, flirting back.

  I told myself I didn’t care if women flung themselves at him. Or if that woman sat on his lap. I had proven I could live without Stratton. I had a good job, my kids were healthy, and I was feeling more like myself than I had in years.

  A shame that today had been going so well, and everything that could go wrong went wrong.

  I faked a cheery façade as I cleaned up after the kids and bundled them off into the car for our drive home. Their innocent chatter kept my mind elsewhere as I held myself barely together. Once inside the cabin, I went through the motions—prepping mac and cheese with a side of hotdog, eating with the kids, and getting them ready for bed.

  I continued to hold it together through story-time, both kids freshly bathed and sweet-smelling, snuggling next to me. They both fell asleep mid-story and I lay there listening to their steady breathing.

  I replayed scenes from the day in my mind. That searing kiss that felt so good but also felt so wrong.

  And, he had lied when he said he wanted only me.

  Anyone would do.

  My phone buzzed, and my heart lurched. I glanced at the screen, and, sure enough, Stratton had sent a text. With pounding heart, I clicked on it.

  Stratton: I am so sorry for messing up so much today. I do love you.

  Then why did you hurt me so, Stratton? Why?

  I set down the phone, my chest filling with heaviness as all the pain came rushing back. Tears trickled down the sides of my face, soaking my pillow until I fell into exhausted sleep.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Stratton

  “Morning, Cap,” Hunter greeted me over the sounds of sizzling bacon.

  I grunted.

  “Want some eggs and—”

  “No, thank you.”

  The crew all looked at me. I kept walking, opened the door to the hallway, and slammed the door shut.

  I was grateful there were no calls that morning. I buried myself in paperwork in my office until lunchtime, when I finally decided to emerge from my self-imposed exile.

  My men looked up at my entrance and lowered their gazes.

  Hunter spoke up. “There’s tomato soup and grilled cheese, Cap, if you’d like some.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “That sounds good.”

  I dished up the delicious food and sat at a table. Weston started to walk over to me with a tray of food, but hesitated.

  “Come,” I said, motioning to a chair, “have a seat.”

  “Okidoki, Cap.”

  We ate in silence. The soup was just the right thickness and the cheese perfectly melted. I glanced at Hunter. “Sorry I was curt with you guys this morning,”

  “Hey, I get it, Cap. Mornings are always a bear.”

  “I wish it were that.”

  Weston looked around at the others and then back at me. “What’s up, Cap?”

  “I did some dumb things and my wife’s not speaking to me.”

  “Uh-oh.” Weston peered into my face. “I’m sure I’ve done dumber things. What did you do?”

  I pushed my tray away from me and fessed up.

  Weston nodded. “With all due respect, Cap, yup. I would say on the scale of one to ten, with ten being smartest, you’re probably at a two. Nah. One.”

  I sighed. “Thanks for stating the obvious.”

  He leaned forward. “The question is, what are you going to do about it?”

  “Wait until she forgives me, which is probably never.”

  “Uh-uh.” Weston wagged his finger. “Remember Operation Strattedy?”

  I winced. “Unfortunately.”

  “Wait.” Hunter interrupted. “Sorry, but should you be taking advice from Weston?”

  Weston arched an eyebrow. “And what is that suppose
d to mean?”

  “You’ve not exactly been in a steady relationship for more than a season.”

  I held a hand up. “Let’s hear what he has to say. I don’t have to follow any of it.”

  Weston smirked at Hunter. “Thanks Cap. You’re a man of action. So first, you need to apologize.”

  I thought of my unanswered text message. “I did.”

  “How?”

  “By text.”

  Weston massaged his temple. “Nope. Not gonna cut it. And let me guess. She didn’t answer.”

  I nodded, feeling miserable.

  “You need to send her flowers.”

  Of course. “Flowers.” I made a mental note.

  “And wine and dine her.”

  “No drinking.”

  “Okay,” Weston conceded. “Fine dining. I happen to know someone who is a really good cook.” He stared at Hunter.

  “Chicken, beef, or fish?” Hunter asked, smiling.

  Weston beamed his approval. “Good work, man. What about you Gage? Any advice for the cap?”

  Gage rubbed his chin. “You need to give up something. Offer something to your wife like a grand gesture.”

  “A grand gesture?” I repeated.

  “You know, something dramatic that could prove to her that you are serious about wanting her in your life.”

  “Sell your truck and ride a bike to work,” Weston suggested.

  I shook my head. “Truck’s more of a need. No.”

  “Giving up battalion chief?” Hunter said.

  The silence in the room was deafening. Everyone looked from our EMT to me with worry.

  I chewed on the suggestion. “Why’d you say that, Hunter?”

  Hunter never pulled punches, and he didn’t this time. “Ever since you started down that track, I noticed you’ve been a lot more uptight. Tense. And it might not be a coincidence…your marriage started suffering. So if your heart’s not in it…” He crumpled a napkin. “Sorry, Cap. You asked.”

  “I did. And you’re right. I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately.”

  The tones sounded. We all jumped to our feet. Getting ready on a call came as second nature while multi-tasking. Dishes were piled by the sink, to be dealt with later.

  Conversations would have to wait. “Thanks for the ideas, guys.” I clapped Weston on the back.

  “Anytime.” Weston smiled, ever the optimist.

  “Hey, Cap,” Hunter said, as the others filed out ahead of us. “I hope you don’t think I’m trying to talk you out of battalion chief. I think you’d make a great one. But I also think you are a fantastic captain, and I’d be selfishly happy if you decided to stay.”

  “Your cooking would definitely be a reason to stay.”

  Hunter grinned. “I can think of better reasons.”

  “I don’t.”

  As we boarded the engine, I thought about my quest to be battalion chief and how I’d worked so hard to get where I was. I was the kid who almost dropped out of high school, who could have easily strayed off the path like my alcoholic father. The kid who found comfort and structure in a firefighting career.

  In aiming for the stars, I didn’t notice all the other beauty around me.

  Especially my family’s.

  After taking care of a hiker who’d fallen off a rock and had broken his leg, we headed back to the station. On impulse, I asked Ransom to make a U-turn and make a quick stop at the grocery store.

  “For flowers,” I explained.

  And then the Marina Motel.

  Ransom’s eyes gleamed. “Aye, aye, sir.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Kennedy

  “I think you’ve got a visitor,” LaToya told me toward the end of the morning shift. “Correction,” she added. “Visitors.”

  I glanced up from booking a customer on the computer and stared out the glass doors at the fire engine.

  LaToya craned her neck. “What are they doing here? Another drill?”

  The crew came out. Stratton detached himself from them. In his hand, he carried a colorful bouquet of flowers.

  “Well.” LaToya chuckled. “This is not a drill. Why don’t you go take a break, Kennedy?” She winked. “I’ve got the desk covered.”

  I bit my lip and took a deep breath. Did Stratton have to do such a public display of whatever this was? I walked out into the pleasant fall day and folded my arms across my chest as he approached.

  His eyes drank me in. He sure knew how to make a woman feel wanted. I wanted desperately to believe that he wanted me.

  “Hi, Kennedy.” He stopped a few feet away. “These are for you.”

  I dropped my arms to the side. He came up and handed me the bouquet. I inhaled its scent, while watching him from over the colorful blossoms.

  “I’m so sorry, Kennedy, for what I did and said the other day. I was being stupid and I wish I could take back the hurt I caused you. Can you ever forgive me?”

  I looked deep into his eyes and could sense his sincerity. I had already been praying to have the strength to forgive him. Now that he was standing in front of me, peace came over my heart. “Apology accepted.” My voice shook a little.

  His eyes lightened in their usual, beautiful way, before pooling with tears. “I love you so much.”

  My mouth trembled. I gazed at his dear, dear face. My heart eased up, flooded by a deep love for this man, my soulmate. I could lie. Or I could do the right thing and tell the truth. “I love you too.”

  His eyes lit up. Three little words, and you’d think he’d won the jackpot. “Can I call you sometime?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I gave him a side-glance. “I would like that.”

  I melted as he beamed like a little boy.

  Over his shoulder, the crew waved from the fire engine and I waved back.

  Despite all that we had been through because of Stratton’s job, I recognized that his crew had always been like a second family to him…and even to me and the kids.

  “Thanks, Kennedy,” Stratton said.

  “For what?”

  He gave me a crooked smile. “For giving this knucklehead more second chances than he deserves.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Stratton

  I sat on my hands like a little kid and tried to give Kennedy the space she needed. As the summer days turned cool over the next two weeks, I continued to come over to visit the children and they spent several sleepovers at the house. We went to regular counseling sessions which progressively got better, especially as we did our “homework.”

  I had started scaling back on overtime, so much so that the battalion chief called me in.

  “Are you still interested in testing?” he asked.

  My eyes alighted upon a framed photo of the chief’s family. He had two grown sons and a daughter who looked like she was still in her pre-teens. Obviously, he had been able to make this work. Something clicked in place in my heart. That last missing puzzle piece. Even though the position worked for this man, it was still a personal choice. Everyone was different.

  I took a deep breath and told him my decision. As we stood, we shook hands. There was no turning back.

  I had been calling Kennedy nearly every day to ask how her day was going and to tell her about mine. Sometimes, our calls went late, with her often being the one to point out that we both have early days, neither one of us wanting to hang up first. We exchanged texts, the messages often taking on a flirtatious tone that had me smiling during the day.

  “Operation Strattedy must be working,” Weston observed as we headed closer to Thanksgiving.

  “I hope so.”

  Kennedy and I had gone on a several dinner dates, but I was still holding out for the fancier one prepped by Hunter. Finally, I had to take matters into my hands.

  After my talk with the battalion chief, I called Kennedy. “Would you like to go catch the sunrise at Alstrom Point this Sunday?”

  I could hear the smile in her voice. “How early is that?”

 
; “Oh, I dunno. We’d probably want to leave at 5:15 so we can get there at sunrise.”

  “I’ll have to come in my jammies.” She giggled.

  “Doesn’t bother me any.” I pictured her, pink-faced and adorable, her beautiful hair falling like a waterfall down her back. “I’ll bring the pancakes.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Sure.” The idea crystallized in my head. “I’ll bring the camp stove.”

  “I’ll see if Mom can have the kids the night before.”

  When I picked her up, she was in her jammies, as she goofily promised. She shrugged her jacket on and I pulled her toward me playfully by the collar. “Are you warm enough?” I teased. We stood so close in the desert cold, we could see our breaths mingle.

  Her gaze dropped to my lips and then away, a pretty blush staining her cheeks. “Yes.”

  I hadn’t tried to kiss her since that day at the beach several weeks before. I would have wanted to very much, but I wanted her to call the shots. When she pulled back, I followed her to the truck and opened the door.

  Bumpy roads and 90 minutes later, we reached Alstrom Point, overlooking a breathtaking view of Lake Powell. Fiery clouds filled the expanse of light blue sky over a red rock canyon amidst blue water.

  I took a blanket out of the cab and draped it over Kennedy’s body. It was a nippy thirty degrees Fahrenheit out.

  “You look cold too,” she said softly. “You can share the blanket.”

  I didn’t need any further invitation.

  I slipped inside the blanket and inserted myself so I could hold her against the length of my body. She was facing away from me, so I couldn’t see her expression, but I could feel the beating of her heart against my arm. I was perfectly content holding her and watching the sun paint streaks of reds and oranges behind little puffs of clouds.

  “Kennedy,” I whispered against her ear, “there’s something I need to tell you.”

  She looked over her shoulder at me, a speculative gleam filling her eyes. “What?”