by Joya Ryan
“Whoop-whoop!”
The large red fire truck was parked in the back lot and sounded just a flick of the siren. The lights started flashing, and three guys waved from behind the windshield.
“You drove the fire truck here?” I turned to ask Cal.
Sticking his hands in his pockets, he shrugged. “Figured it was the only way to get you to agree to a ride. And if you barricaded yourself in the room, I was prepared to take out the ladder and carry you out.”
A small laugh escaped my lips.
“God, I’ve missed that sound,” he said, staring at my mouth. Cal was so good at making me laugh. And I missed it too.
“Lana!” Dave called, sticking his head out of the side of the truck and waving me over. “I’ve got twenty bucks riding on the line here. You’re killing me!”
Dave smiled and I shot a look at Cal.
“Dave bet that you’d tell me to fuck off,” Cal grumbled.
That made me smile. “Twenty, huh? And what do you have riding on my decision?”
Cal’s expression was serious when he looked me in the eyes and simply said, “Everything.”
Chapter 3
“Remember,” Dave called from the truck as Cal walked me up to the front door of his house, “Just because Cal fucked up royally, doesn’t mean you can ditch the rest of us. We’re doing dinner at the station tomorrow night. Family only, so you better show up!”
Dave’s kind invitation knocked on my chest like a fist from the inside trying to break free. They thought of me like family? I’d been to the station a few times back when Cal and I were together and knew firsthand how close all the guys were. And Cal had made me feel like a part of his world.
As we reached the front door, Cal took out his keys and unlocked it, while the truck idled loudly on the side of the street, waiting to take him back to the station. He opened the door and handed me the key.
“I’ll be back tomorrow morning to check in,” he said. “But there’s something inside I think will make you very happy.”
I frowned, but when he flicked on the entry light, I saw Harper sitting at the table.
“Oh, my God!” I dropped my small bag and she ran to hug me. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too,” she said, hugging me back.
“I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” Cal said, then walked down the steps and toward the truck.
“Cal,” I called after him. He turned and those blue eyes snared me. “Thank you.”
He flashed his rugged smile and nodded once. There he was, giving me space, walking away, just like I’d pushed him to do, all while making sure I was okay.
I couldn’t think of that for long because with a quick wave to the truck, Harper yanked me inside and we were sitting on the couch, knees bent and catching up.
“Oh, my God,” Harper said, taking my hands in hers. “I’m so sorry, the avalanche made it impossible to get here until now.”
I gave a little squeeze back. She was warm and smelled like fresh snow and citrus shampoo. God, I missed my best friend. The weather and snow had made traveling back here difficult, but I was so happy she’d finally made it.
“So, I hear Jack and Cal have taken the title as your own personal guard dogs,” she said. She must have heard that from the gossip mill that ran around the station.
“They refuse to leave me alone.”
“Can’t really blame them,” she muttered.
“Yes, I can,” I said quickly.
“You’re right. You totally can.”
Harper knew the gist of what had gone down between Cal, Jack, and me. She also obviously knew about the fire, since it was her house too that burned. Luckily, she had a good deal of her personal stuff at her parents’ house, where she’d been visiting. When I called to tell her about my father’s death, she scrambled trying to get back, but the snow had her caged in until now.
“Did you drive today?”
“Yeah, took most of the day. Stupid snow,” she said. “I’m sorry to hear about your dad. I can’t believe he died the same day our house burned down. Do the police think it’s linked?”
“Right now, they’re treating the instances as separate,” I answered. My father’s death was unofficially deemed a suicide, as of this moment. The fire report on the house was still underway. Though foul play was expected, we were still waiting to hear what the arson investigation turned up.
“So, the police are still investigating your dad’s death?” she asked. Her neatly curled hair hung like glossy curtains around her face. For spending the majority of the day in a car, she looked amazing. As usual. Her ivory skin was fresh and smooth, her eyes rested and calm. Whatever she had, I wanted some. Though I hadn’t glanced at a mirror in a while, I felt withered, and it showed.
“Yeah. They aren’t officially ruling my dad’s death a suicide until they do some more tests.”
“What kind of tests?”
“I don’t know. Gun powder residue and bullet matching stuff.” It wasn’t that I didn’t care. I did. I just didn’t know what to expect. If my father really killed himself, what would that mean? And if he didn’t? My brain couldn’t process all the outcomes or scenarios. I was waiting for facts because I couldn’t deal with any more speculation.
Facts.
The single tool I had to keep my sanity in all areas of my severally crumbling worlds.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t at the funeral,” Harper said. “I’m sorry for a lot of things. I should have been around more, Lana.”
“It’s not your fault,” I said.
“Were Anita and Brock assholes to you?”
Just my reaction to their names and recalling the encounter I’d had with them earlier by my father’s grave told me it would take a dose of strong liquor to wash down the bitter taste they’d left behind.
“No more than usual,” I said around a strangled breath. “My father carried a picture in his wallet. At least, I think he still did. It was of my mom and me and him. I asked if I could have it and Anita basically told me to fuck off.”
“Bitch,” Harper said.
I didn’t know why I was holding on to a simple picture. I just wanted something of my dad’s, some memory that wasn’t tainted.
“What about the fire? Any word?”
“Hopefully, in the next day or two we should get the official fire report. They’re pretty sure it was arson, but the details will come in soon.”
Harper nodded. “Now we just have to wait for the insurance to kick in. They’d said that they’d have a check for us around New Year’s, right?”
“Yeah, right around there.” They were taking their sweet time with this and the New Year was still a few weeks away. “Will you tell me about you?” I asked. “I’ve missed you, and I just feel like so much has been going on in your life and I know nothing about it.”
Harper gave a guilty look, then a shy smile. “Now isn’t the time to talk about it.”
“Ah, now is the perfect time! Please, Harp. Give me something.”
“Okay…I eloped.”
I wish I was drinking something so I could have spit it out. “What? When? With who?”
“Rhett. We’ve been seeing each other and I…love him. But we had some issues. Okay…I had some issues. But he came to see me at my parents. Fought for me. Refused to leave until I admitted the truth.”
“And what’s that?”
“I love him,” she said. “So much. I didn’t think it was possible. But I do. He makes me laugh. Makes me think life can be fun and easy. But he challenges me to be better. He’s intense and a little wicked, and I just love him.”
Listening to my best friend rave about her husband. Wow. Husband. Was incredible. It also made me zone in on certain words.
Intense.
Casual.
Fun.
Challenging.
It was Jack and Cal. Two sides to the coin and Harper got it in one man.
“I’m sorry,” Harper whispered. “I didn’t mean to
sound all happy. I was going to wait to tell you, with everything going on—”
I took her hands in mine. “I’m glad you told me. And I’m so happy for you.”
“What about you, Lan?” Harper glanced over her shoulder at the door. The same door Cal had just been standing in before leaving me secure in his home. “What are you going to do?”
“There’s nothing to do,” I said. “I’m done.”
“With Cal or Jack?”
“Both.”
“I don’t think they’ll take that as an answer.”
“I don’t care,” I said. “They hurt me. Betrayed me.” A sob broke my throat and I couldn’t help it. I tried shaking it away, but it wouldn’t budge. The pain was stuck. All I could do was try to talk around it. “I gave them everything. I believed them.”
“I know,” she whispered, and pulled me in for a hug. Whatever gates that were holding back all my emotions, opened. Harper’s arms tightened around me and a few tears fell. Then a few more.
I cried for every hour of every day since I’d gotten stood up on that damn blind date and my life changed forever. Cried because I loved Cal. Because I still loved Jack. Cried because I hated how much I loved them.
“I hate them,” I whispered. “I hate them so much because I love them and it…it feels like I’m dying. Like I can’t breathe.”
“I know,” Harper cooed and stroked my hair.
“My dad is dead. Everything is gone.”
“I know,” she whispered again.
“Please,” I begged. To who or what, I didn’t know. I just knew in this moment, I couldn’t fake a smile anymore. “Please make it stop.”
The hole was eating away and there was no fight left in me. I was tired. To my core tired of fighting. Tired of trying.
“I wish I could,” Harper said and adjusted to make me face her. “This is hard.” She cupped my face. “But you, Lana Case, can handle this.”
I shook my head. “I can’t.”
“Yes, you can. You’re a survivor.”
More tears flooded. I didn’t feel like a survivor. I felt like someone who was failing.
“What do I do?”
“You do whatever you have to do to get through this. Because you will get through this.” Harper forced me to look at her and repeated. “Do you hear me? Whatever it takes. This is your life, you decide. You’re in control.” She examined me and finished with, “You also need to get some sleep. You look exhausted.”
I felt exhausted. I’d also never felt more lost in my life. I hugged my friend and just repeated her words in my mind:
Do whatever it takes to get through this…
~
“Breakfast for dinner is the best idea ever,” Mark said, digging into his plate of food. His mustache had really come in since the last time I’d seen him. The other fire guys sat around the table, passing syrup back and forth for their waffles.
It was so familiar it warmed a very cold part of my chest. Family. This was what family was like. Gathered around the table. Talking. Eating. Being in the middle of the kitchen, everyone crowed around a big circular table, it was hard not to feel welcome.
“It was the best thing to make, since Cal can only handle making scrambled eggs,” Dave said, and stuffed a big bite of pancake into his mouth.
“There are no eggs,” Mark said.
“Exactly.” Dave pointed a fork his direction.
“Shut up,” Cal said, and took his seat beside me. Putting an arm around the back of my chair, he placed his other forearm on the table and leaned toward me while talking to Dave. “It’s no secret I can’t cook.”
“Not even breakfast?” Mark asked, then shook his head. “Lana, when you’re ready for a real man, you let me know. I can cook any meal.” Mark winked, purposefully pissing off Cal, and I laughed.
“I can barbecue you breakfast,” Cal said in my ear with all the confidence in the world.
For a moment, I got caught up in the fluid easiness of the moment. The way he looked at me, tossing a few winks out and melting my heart with that sly smile was enough to make me ache at the loss of how things used to be. Even the way he sat next to me was possessive in a simple way. A comfortable way that told the world I was his.
But I’m not. Not anymore.
“You alright?” Cal whispered into my ear, while everyone else held conversations around the table. I looked at him. Those blue eyes laced with concern. I couldn’t help but be honest.
“Not really,” I whispered back. I could tell he was on the brink of asking why, but I just gave a tight smile and refocused on my food. I didn’t want to talk about how the reminder of how this love, this sense of family with Cal, was pulling at my bones until I felt my joints were on the brink of crunching.
Dinner passed in a haze. Everyone talked and laughed.
“So, Rhett and Harper are on their honeymoon for a few weeks, huh?” Mark asked. “Does that mean I have to stop hitting on her?”
Everyone laughed.
Last night, Harper had told me she was going to postpone her and Rhett’s honeymoon, but I insisted she go. No reason she needed to sit here and watch me wallow and cry all over the place.
“No, you can. I’d love to see Rhett kick your ass for that,” Dave said.
“That guy has got it bad,” Mark said.
“Of course he does, he married her,” Cal chimed in. Mark’s playful smirk zeroed in on Cal.
“Speaking of guys who’ve got it bad,” Mark said. “Did Cal show you the art project he made for you yet, Lana?”
Surprise lit my face and Cal grumbled something like “shut the fuck up” to Mark.
“No, I haven’t seen this art project?” I said with wonderment, glancing at Cal.
“Dinner’s over,” Cal announced, and took my hand, helping me stand.
“Aw, don’t be sad, big guy,” Mark said. “The glitter was a nice touch. I think she’ll like it.”
“There was no glitter,” Cal defended, then marched me out of the kitchen, down the hall, and into his room. The memories instantly flooded from the last time I was in this small area at the station. It was on this bed that Cal and I had sex for the first time. I’d tasted his entire body and he enveloped me in all that strength. Now, he simply sat down, and coaxed me to sit beside him.
“You have to tell me about this art project now,” I said, trying to go for a lighter topic.
“It’s not a project,” he said, and bent to grab something from beneath his bed. “I ordered this, then just put a few pictures in it.”
He handed me a large book. It was red with a matte finish, and when I opened it, tears instantly sprang to my eyes. There, on the first page was a picture of Cal and me. Smiling and happy. I turned, and on the second page was a picture of me on the ladder, wearing Cal’s fire gear. That was the night he’d taken me over a hundred feet off the ground, and let me rise above all the problems that had been weighing me down.
I covered my mouth with my hand.
“You made me a scrapbook,” I whispered.
“It’s not much.” He leaned over and looked at the page I was staring at. “I remembered your face when you saw all the pictures Aunt Bea brought out of me, and I wanted you to have a place you could put your memories.”
I folded my lips together to keep the tug of pain at bay. Bea was Cal’s aunt and the nicest woman I’d ever known. She’d taken me in from the first day I’d met her. Her hugs could cure cancer and she was the kind of mother, friend, aunt, anyone would be lucky to have.
She’d raised Cal since he was a kid after his mother died. She’d also basically raised Jack, since his father was an abusive bastard that lived right across the street. And she’d loved both of them dearly.
“I’ve never had a scrapbook,” I said. I couldn’t even get a picture of my father. Let alone have a book of memories. Mostly because there were very few memories that were worth keeping. Until I met Jack and Cal that is. Then life had changed. And I wanted to remember the good time
s. Because they gave them to me. And now Cal was giving me even more.
“Thank you,” I said, as I looked at Cal and clutched the book against my chest.
“You’re welcome.” He trailed the back of his fingers along my jaw and I closed my eyes and leaned into the touch. When I opened them, he hadn’t moved. Hadn’t closed the small gap between our mouths.
“Cal,” I said his name and those blue eyes lit up with hope. I couldn’t deny the addiction I had for this man. I pressed my lips against his and fell apart at the instant warmth of his soft kiss.
Gently touching, stroking those fingers down my neck, he licked the seam of my lips and I opened to take a taste of him. The slightest touch of his tongue was enough to make me moan. I missed him. So badly that my heart was beating in sections. One broken piece thumped, followed by a second broken piece. It hurt so much. The sting of the wound pulsing with…
Hope.
I pulled back. “I can’t.”
I was sad. Confused. And I didn’t know where to start with healing, or if it was even possible. Jack was back, the arrangement he and Cal had made was out, and I was sitting there, clutching to the idea of a future, of family, that Cal literally put in my hands. I didn’t want to let it go, but it wasn’t mine to embrace.
Not anymore.
“Will you take me home?” I asked. As soon as the words left my mouth I realized that I didn’t have a home. But Cal answered anyway.
“Yes.”
With that, he rose to stand and helped me up. I clung tightly to my book, terrified to my core that it would only ever be filled with the memories of what could have been.
Chapter 4
Cal had gotten the rest of the night off and drove me back to his place in silence. My body was humming, my mind was in chaos, and the hot shower did little to ease any of it.
I rested my head against the shower wall and exhaled. The “wall” was made of dark gray stones and looked more like a walk-in exotic cave than a shower stall. It suited Cal’s taste, since this was his master suite. From the furniture to the décor, everything was rugged and masculine.
I was surrounded by the man I’d just pulled away from. I couldn’t get that blue gaze out of my mind. Worse, I didn’t know what lay behind it.