Reckless

by Kimberly Kincaid

  But now when she looked around, all she saw was the box of Lucky Charms Alex had conned her into buying, the skillet he’d washed and put in the dish drainer just that morning before he’d left for his shift, and the dish towel he’d snapped at her legs as they’d cooked together last week. In just one short month, he’d left an indelible mark in her space, her kitchen.

  Her heart.

  Another wave of fresh tears rimmed Zoe’s eyes, and she didn’t even bother swatting them away. Yes, she felt as if she’d been dragged across an emotional battlefield today, but the alternative was simply a non-option.

  The fear of loving a firefighter had torn her parents’ marriage apart after two and a half decades, proving that it never went away, and if anything, it only got worse over time. If Zoe had been this terrified at Alex’s near miss, she couldn’t even imagine how much worse really losing him would be. And between the profession that defined him and the lifestyle that was just as woven into the fabric of his being, the risk was too great.

  She wasn’t cut out for taking chances. All it did was leave her burned.

  Zoe took a deep breath, trying to stuff her sadness down along with it. She wasn’t hungry by any stretch, even though she couldn’t remember for the life of her when, or even what, she’d eaten last. Deciding to forgo food, she slid a bottle of pinot noir off the shelf over the counter, uncorking it and filling her glass ridiculously high. She padded into the living room with both her glass and the bottle, putting them side by side on the slender coffee table in front of her as she plopped to the sofa, pulling a throw pillow across her chest.

  The masculine scent of Alex’s shampoo drifted up to greet her, and God, she was going to lose her mind.

  Placing the pillow in the armchair across the room with the mental note to do laundry first thing in the morning, she flipped on the TV to scroll through the channels. She avoided anything vaguely hinting at local news, finally landing on a hockey documentary on the sports network. But after an hour of sitting there and not seeing a damn thing other than the level of liquid in her glass go all the way down to empty, Zoe finally decided that if she didn’t at least eat something, she was going to be drunk as well as heartbroken.

  She was halfway to the kitchen when a businesslike knock sounded at her front door, grabbing her attention and making her pulse rattle. She’d made a passable enough excuse to everyone at the hospital as she’d left, citing exhaustion as she’d slipped away. Rachel didn’t know where she lived, and Tina would’ve certainly called before coming over. Could be a misguided pizza man. But it also could be a misguided serial killer, so Zoe deepened her voice with as much authority as possible before asking, “Who is it?”

  “It’s me, kiddo.”

  Zoe pressed herself flush to the door to look through the peephole, her confusion warring with shock. Sure enough, her father stood in the hallway, looking right at her through the tiny lens.

  She unlocked the dead bolt with a heavy click, swinging the door wide. “What are you doing here?”

  “Chief Williams called in Captain Lewis from Station Four to finish the shift with the rest of the house so I could make sure things were taken care of at the hospital.”

  “Okay,” she said, her tone labeling the word as a question. “But you’re here instead.”

  Her father nodded. “Everett elected to stay behind for a while to attend to any immediate needs, and Alex is resting comfortably, probably asleep for the night. But in order for me to handle this, I needed to talk to you first.”

  Zoe’s heartbeat picked up speed in her chest, and she ushered her father inside. “I can probably save you the conversation. Alex and I have decided to stop, um, seeing each other.”

  He paused, his eyes falling on the empty wineglass and the half-empty bottle beside it. “I see,” he replied slowly. “I thought it was a little strange that you’d decided to leave the hospital, but I can’t say I was expecting that.”

  “That makes two of us. But we definitely broke up, so . . .” The ache in her chest kicked back to life with renewed vigor, and God, was it too much to ask to not start bawling in front of her father? She was twenty-seven, not just seven. For an awkward minute that lasted roughly an ice age, they stood in her living room, her father with his hands in the pockets of his uniform pants and her with her heart smashed to pieces.

  And then her father crossed the space between them to wrap his arms around her, and Zoe burst into tears.

  “Okay, now. Go ahead and get it out, kiddo. It’s okay.”

  “I’m sorry,” she sobbed, another round of cries tumbling out of her as her father smoothed her hair with one hand. “I found out I lost the Collingsworth Grant and then you got so mad at me and then Alex got hurt in this fire.... I saw it on the news and I thought . . . I thought he was . . . I was just so scared. . . .”

  She bit her lip to stop herself from babbling further, but it didn’t help. The tears flowed along with a half-sobbed version of what had happened, and her father held her close, the familiar comfort of his Old Spice cologne surrounding her as he simply listened. Finally, her cries became uneven breaths, then quiet sighs, and her father pulled back to look at her.

  “I’m sorry you didn’t get the grant. I’m sorry . . . well, for lots of things. I know I’m just your old man,” he said, just as calm and matter-of-fact as ever, even as he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe the tears from her face. “But maybe we should talk about what happened earlier a little more.”

  “You seriously want to talk to me about what happened with Alex?”

  “Not all of it,” her father confirmed, his jaw giving a quick twitch. “But there are some things that I need to say.”

  Zoe frowned. “Like what?”

  “For starters, you should know that Alex wasn’t placed at Hope House by accident. He was placed there for community service because I requested it.”

  “What?” Her shock knocked the word from her mouth on a chirp, but her father answered it directly.

  “The recommendation seemed like a win-win. He’d screwed up and needed to get his head straight, and I knew you’d make him earn it. Plus, I’m not going to lie to you, I wanted you safe. Donovan’s as loyal as they come. I knew he’d look out for you once he got over having to do community service. I just didn’t think . . .” Her father trailed off, running his hand over the back of his neck. “I guess I’m just a thickheaded old man. You’re my daughter. Alex is one of my firefighters. I didn’t put two and two together the way I should’ve, and when I saw you two together tonight at the firehouse, I reacted poorly.”

  Zoe blinked to try and get the information all the way past the holy-shit roadblock in her brain, but after the fourth try, she gave up. “So you put Alex with me because you knew I wouldn’t give him preferential treatment?”

  Her father nodded. “Alex is a great firefighter, kiddo, but the last thing he needed was to slide out of yet another dilemma. If I couldn’t be the one to help him get his act together, well, I figured you were the next best thing.”

  Jesus. All the blinking in the world wasn’t going to help her diffuse the shock of this. “I thought you didn’t believe in me.”

  “I owe you an apology for that, too,” he said, his eyes going soft. “I don’t suppose you’ll really understand this until you have kids of your own, but no matter how old you get, no matter how smart or strong, you’re still my daughter. I let my worry for your safety get in the way of what really matters. I guess old habits die hard, but that doesn’t change the fact that I should’ve supported you better.”

  Zoe thought of how her father had sent Alex to Hope House in the first place, then lent her the support of his entire firehouse, and all the quiet ways her father had helped, in his own way. “You did. You are right now.”

  “Zoe, listen.” Her father paused for a deep breath.

  “You’re an adult, and the last person you probably need advice from is your father, especially on your love life—”

 
Ugh, no. “Dad, please. I don’t want to talk about this. I don’t have a . . .” She swallowed hard, forcing her lips to shape the word. “Love life with Alex. I couldn’t even cope with him getting through a week’s worth of shifts. He’s too reckless, and I don’t know the meaning of the word. It’s just not meant to be.”

  “I’m not so sure I agree with you there. I watched you get pretty reckless to save your soup kitchen,” her father said, and the words sent another pang through Zoe’s gut.

  “Exactly. And look what it got me.”

  “What it got you was knowledge, experience, and the support of your community. Yes”—he cut off her brewing protest with a single look—“the money would’ve helped, but I know you better than to think you won’t dust yourself off and find a way to get Hope House everything it needs to flourish, and I think you know it, too.”

  Zoe opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

  Yeah. She had nothing. “You believe that?”

  Her father tilted his head, his mouth twitching into a wry smile. “I believe in you one hundred percent, and I’m not the only one. Alex rallied for you even before I did. I might’ve reacted badly when I saw the two of you together, but Donovan’s a good man, one who clearly cares for you. And you deserve that. Both of you.”

  “I’m scared,” Zoe admitted. “The job is so dangerous, and it ended your marriage to Mom after all that time. What if I never get over being afraid?”

  “Being a firefighter is dangerous,” her father said slowly. “But being afraid to follow your heart is dangerous, too.”

  She stepped into the comfort of his hug, the ache in her rib cage giving way to a shaky breath. “But what if I take the risk, only to lose?”

  Her father squeezed her tight, holding her up in steady support. “I think the more important question is, what if you don’t?”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Between his head feeling like it was chock-full of old rubber cement and his shoulder locked up tighter than a CIA safe house, Alex was pretty sure this morning ranked up there in his Top Ten Most Fucktacular.

  He didn’t even want to get started on the jagged hole in his chest that, while metaphorical, still hurt worse than everything else combined.

  “Good morning, sunshine. Are you decent?” Cole stuck his head past the door to Alex’s hospital room, just in time for Alex to give him a one-fingered salute.

  “I take that as a yes,” Cole said with a smile, and God. Nothing would ever rattle him. “I saw the doc in the hall. He said you’re clear for takeoff, huh?”

  Alex nodded, running his hand over the sweats and T-shirt O’Keefe had dropped off when he’d gotten off shift a few hours ago. “Yeah. He just came in and did the last of the concussion protocol, and the nurse went over all this stuff with me.” He gestured to the pile of papers he’d barely listened to her review.

  “Any update on your guy from the fire?” Cole asked, and Alex’s gut squeezed hard despite the news he’d finally wrangled out of one of the nurses.

  “Yeah. He spent the night in the ICU while they stabilized him, but it looks like he’ll end up being okay.”

  Cole’s brows lowered in confusion. “I might be off the mark here, but isn’t that a good thing?”

  “It is,” Alex said, his heart starting to pound as hard as his head. “I just wish I hadn’t hesitated. I should’ve done my job better.”

  “Bullshit.”

  The single-word affirmation had Alex’s stare whipping up toward his best friend. “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me,” Cole said. “You didn’t hesitate yesterday because you weren’t doing your job, Alex. You hesitated because you were. You knew I needed backup on that hose, and you knew that even though Jones is learning fast, he couldn’t do it alone. Freelancing your way down the hall on a maybe wouldn’t just have been reckless. It would’ve been dangerous.”

  “But it didn’t turn out to be a maybe,” Alex argued, a nauseous pang working up from the waistband of his sweats. “I should’ve trusted my instincts.”

  “And that’s just what you did, you big dumb-ass.” Cole’s delivery carried a complete lack of anger or heat, stunning Alex into silence. “Your instincts told you to do your job and back us up. When the game changed and you saw that guy for sure, you acted, and we did ours to back you up. Yeah, the job is full of risks and what-ifs. But you know how to deal with those. Now more than ever.”

  Alex sat still for a minute, absorbing Cole’s words, and shit, the guy was right. “Yeah,” he agreed slowly. “I guess you’re right.”

  “So how long before you come back to Eight for real this time?”

  Alex held up the papers in his lap. “I’m on restricted duty for a couple of weeks, ’til my follow-up CT scan, and I’m not supposed to drive. But other than that . . .”

  Cole nodded, dangling the keys to his Jeep from his forefinger. “I’ve got you covered. What do you say we hit Scarlett’s for some late breakfast? You must be starving.”

  His brain shifted from one heartache to another. Jesus, he missed Zoe. “Nah. They brought me breakfast here earlier.” Never mind that he hadn’t even touched the tray. The only thing Alex wanted was the one thing he couldn’t have.

  You need to snap out of it. With how stubborn that woman is, gone is gone.

  “You want to talk about it?” Cole asked, crossing his arms over his white T-shirt.

  “Talk about what?” Okay, so his attempt at denial was half-assed at best, and Cole knew him well enough to see it for what it was, but still. All the talking in the universe wasn’t going to change the fact that Zoe had left.

  And no matter how much Alex wanted her to, she wasn’t coming back.

  “Well, let’s see.” Cole held up one hand, and Alex braced for round two of the Everett Inquisition. “For starters, you’ve never not been hungry for Scarlett’s breakfast in your life. Two, I know you spent the night in the hospital, but you look like hammered shit. And lastly . . .” He paused, easing up on his volume by just a notch. “I’m here driving you home instead of your girlfriend. So really, dude. The I’m fine thing? Not gonna fly with me.”

  Alex blew out a breath, and screw it. Now was as good a time as any to get rid of the crummy feelings he’d been jamming back all night. “Zoe decided to break things off.”

  He forked out a highlights-only version of the events leading up to the fire call, then another of the conversation with Zoe that had followed. Cole listened without a word in response, although Alex knew it wasn’t for lack of attention or opinion.

  Finally, Cole ran his palms down the front of his jeans. “Damn. I’m sorry, man.”

  “I am too.” Alex’s impulsive side told him to just forget it, to blow off all these sticky emotions and skip forward to find the next moment to really live in. Instead, he said, “Do you remember a couple of weeks ago at Bellyflop, how you said maybe it was my karma that put me in the kitchen with Zoe?”

  Cole nodded. “Yeah.”

  “It wasn’t.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because,” Alex said, his gut knotting up to match the throb in his shoulder. “I’ve never done anything good enough in my life to deserve her. Even if she couldn’t stay.”

  Grabbing his paperwork, he swung his feet off the hospital bed, eager to just put this place and this day behind him. Cole reached for the door, sliding it open so Alex could cross the threshold.

  Zoe stood two inches in front of him, her hand poised to knock.

  “Oh, jeez!” Her bloodshot eyes flew wide, her face clearly showing signs of a sleepless night, but Christ, she was still beautiful. “I, um. I was going to knock.”

  His heart slammed against his sternum, and finally he managed to say, “I see that.”

  A beat passed, then another before Cole said, “I’ll just wait for you at the nurse’s station down the hall, Teflon. It’s good to see you, Zoe.”

  Alex nodded a quick thanks to his buddy before turning back toward Zoe in
the otherwise empty hallway.

  She pressed her lips together, eyes downcast. “I heard the man you rescued is going to be okay. That’s really good news.”

  “Yeah,” he agreed, trying like hell to read her expression.

  A flare of emotion burned through her eyes as she glanced up from the floor. “And you look better. You know, almost fine.”

  He pinned Zoe with a quiet stare, a glimmer of hope sparking out from the very center of his chest despite his efforts to remain cautious. “Is that why you came here? To see how I am?”

  “No. I don’t know. I thought . . . I mean, I came here to . . . What I really wanted to say is . . .” She stopped, her honey-colored brows settling into that look of determination that told Alex she was dead set on getting what she wanted.

  “I am in love with you, and I thought you should know.”

  Holy. Shit. “You what?”

  Zoe moved forward, her words falling out in a rush. “I know what I said last night, about being too afraid to risk. But you were right, Alex. I can’t live my life in a bubble. Not when what I really want is to live it with you. Yes, I am scared out of my mind at the thought of losing you. But I’m even more scared at the thought of not ever having you. If you still want me, I want to take the risk. I want to be with you. I want—”

  “Zoe, stop.”

  “Oh God. What?” A look of panic streaked over her face, but Alex quelled it by closing the space between them. He pulled her in tight, and yeah. No matter how high the skydive, no matter how tough the climb or rough the rapids, this was the biggest thrill Alex ever wanted.

  “You don’t have to convince me,” he said, brushing a kiss over her shock-parted lips. “I love you, too. I don’t want to be anywhere other than with you.”

  “Really?” she asked, her smile lighting up her face.

  “I’m a no-bullshit kind of guy, remember? If I tell you I love you, I mean it for keeps.”