by Peyton Banks
“Work keeps me busy,” I said. “But you know what that’s like, I’m sure they keep you busy down there in the big city.”
“Yes, very busy. There hasn’t been too much time for anything but work,” Kendra agreed.
I was smiling despite myself. Just being around her again reminded me of back when I’d been in school—the good stuff, not the things I’d worked so hard to forget and put behind me. Around Kendra, there was that familiar feeling, something I hadn’t felt with any of the women in the past.
“Not even dating?” I asked boldly. I wanted, no needed to know.
“No.” Kendra shook her head. “But I finally have some time on my hands, so, maybe it’s time to change that.” She winked at me saucily.
Was she always this hot? We’d only ever been friends, but with both of us grown up a bit…
The DJ changed up the song, and I recognized it in an instant. Kendra groaned when she heard it too and looked around, I assumed to see if it was her grandmother who’d made the song request.
“It’s a popular song,” I pointed out.
Kendra laughed. “It’s a decade old,” she countered.
“It is ‘our’ song,” I replied.
The opening of “Mr. Brightside” shifted into the first verse and I held out my hand to her. “Come on, let’s do this.”
“Hard pass,” she answered before giving me a grin.
“Scared that this German white boy could out dance you?”
She burst out laughing. “You couldn’t in high school and I doubt you can now.”
“Then dance with me Kendra Powell,” I demanded.
Kendra raised an eyebrow then put her hand in mine. We moved to where more people were dancing and started moving to the beat of the music, just the way we had a decade before—but a decade before, we’d been on the verge of graduating high school, at the prom together as friends.
We sang along with the words—it wasn’t possible not to. As we kept dancing, I noticed that Kendra wasn’t just a little slower because we were both closer to thirty than twenty. She moved, and I saw her wince. She was favoring one leg, putting all of her weight on it in a way she never had when we’d been friends as kids. Maybe she’d just fucked up her other knee in the line of duty, but she didn’t look like someone dealing with an old injury. It looked like something I’d seen in the men I’d served with in the military when I was fresh out of high school and sent overseas by the U.S. Government.
The song ended, and I noticed that Kendra was limping a bit as we headed back to where we’d been standing before our dance.
Moving a little closer to her, I said, “Here,” offering her my arm to lean on.
She stopped giving my arm the once over. “Well, look at your Thor like arm,” she started, “I don’t remember you having all this muscle potential in high school.” Her lips tilted up at the corners as she playfully touched the bulging muscles pressed against the material of my dress shirt. “Now stop being such a showoff, you’re making the other men jealous.”
I couldn’t help the laughter that boomed out of me. “You’re such a smart ass.” Pushing a stray curl behind her ear I continued, “But this isn’t about my spectacular guns. Just grab onto my arm.”
Her eyes twinkled with laughter. “Okay, if you insist.” She looped her arm over mine, pressing her luscious curves against my side.
Loving how good Kendra felt against me, I swallowed hard, pushing down my rising desire to push her into a corner, take her lips in a passionate kiss and show her I was no longer the shy boy she once knew.
Shit Lukas. Get your head out of the gutter.
I needed a distraction from my dirty thoughts so I asked the next logical question on my mind. “I take it whatever happened to your leg isn’t common knowledge?”
Kendra gave me the wry look I immediately recognized, and it was like nothing had changed in the ten years since I’d last seen her.
“It’s not a fresh injury, but it’s not fully healed,” Kendra replied, as I led her over to some chairs set up in the corner. She sat down and followed, taking a seat in front of her.
“What happened?” I inquired. “Or do you not want to say?” Even though I knew good and damned well that Kendra Powell could take care of herself—I’d seen her in action well before she’d ever been a cop— someone had hurt her and that was more than enough to rile up my protective instincts.
Her gaze darted away then back to me. “They call it an ‘officer-involved shooting incident’.” She pressed her palms against the top of her thighs. “Someone injured me.” She sighed heavily. “It’ll heal, but for now, it’s still stiff and achy.”
“Did the bullet get you in the thigh,” I asked.
“Yes,” she croaked. “It’s one of those things—they give you a bulletproof vest to keep you from getting hit in the major organs, but your body’s more than that.”
I had to know more. I pushed the line of conversation. “I knew a guy back in the day—different unit from mine, but same division. He got some shrapnel in an IED attack and they put him on PT.” I paused. “They have you doing physical therapy, right?”
Kendra nodded. “Lots of it.” Her lips twisted wryly. “The PT said I could expect to get seventy-five percent function back. I’m supposed to continue doing it while I’m here, since I know all the exercises.”
“You’d better,” I told her. “And if you want a workout buddy, I’m here for you.”
“You look like you’re no stranger to the gym,” she mused while looking me over. There was a glint of appreciation in her eyes that made me want to preen like a peacock.
“Unfortunately, ever since I left the military, I don’t workout as much as I used to. So, all this,” I flexed the muscles in my arms playfully, “is pure white boy magic.”
She chuckled. “Lukas. You’re still crazy as ever.”
I loved the way her face lit up when she laughed. I sat back a bit in my chair and grinned. “I see you still love wearing all black,” I ran a finger across her knee.
Kendra laughed. “It’s my signature color even though grandma is always whining about wanting to see me in something else besides black.”
“In fairness to her, it’s the truth,” I chided. “Throughout high school you wore nothing but black, even to prom,” I smiled just remembering the battle she had with her grandmother over what to wear to prom. Pearl told her that unless she wore a dress, she wouldn’t get to wear her mother’s pearls to the dance. So, in typical Kendra fashion, she’d chosen a dress that looked as much as a tux as possible—black and white, with a bow in the front and tails at the back. It had looked hot on her—I’d had to admit.
Kendra rolled her eyes. “You two don’t count with my clothes selection.” She ran her fingers through her thick shoulder length hair.
“I’m not complaining Kendra.” Acting on instinct, I reached forward, tracing a finger across her cheek. “I bet you would look killer in something black, lace and barely there.”
“Just for the record, I do,” she quipped before the tip of her tongue flicked out over her bottom lip for just a second. My cock jumped at the gesture, and my thoughts instantly went to all the dirty things I’d like her to do to my body with those full pouty lips. Jesus…this woman will be the death of me.
I moved onto a way safer topic, one that would distract me from pulling her onto my lap and kissing her. “Why did you pick the NYPD over the FBI?” I asked. “You’d have the regulation FBI look down pat.”
“I was thinking I might get into the FBI from the NYPD,” Kendra said, extending her injured leg a bit and rubbed it. She was hurting. My hands clenched as I pushed down my primal urge to drape her leg across my lap and massage it.
“Let me get you something to drink,” I suggested. “You want water or something harder?”
“Another glass of wine,” Kendra said. “That would be amazing.”
I got up and hurried over to the bar. Since I was in semi-uniform, the bartender came o
ver to me immediately. I got the glass of wine for Kendra and another gin and tonic for myself. “Who’d have ever thought we’d have a legal drink together,” I said, handing off Kendra’s wine and clinking my glass against hers. We both laughed, and I sat down.
“We weren’t that bad,” Kendra mused. “I think we only ever went to like two parties and got pissy drunk.”
“We still broke the law,” I pointed out jokingly. “What would the people you arrest think of you?”
Kendra snorted. “I wasn’t a cop back then, and I didn’t have any plans at that point to become one,” she pointed out. “And you know it.”
“I do,” I admitted. “I have to think even now plenty of kids break the law that way.”
“They do,” Kendra said. “Before I became a detective—when I was a beat cop—I must have broken up a dozen parties with underage kids.”
I shot her a mock stern glare. “How many arrests Detective Powell?”
“Cut it out firefighter Koch.” Kendra shoved at my arm playfully, just like she used to when we’d been kids.
“No avoiding the question Kendra.”
“Not that many,” she said. “Mostly just made sure nobody would wreck anything or drive drunk, collected some fake IDs, told people to wait their turn to be legal.”
“That’s nice of you,” I grinned.
Kendra shrugged. “Most of the time, the kids weren’t doing anything that bad,” she said. “Arresting them for being drunk or having alcohol wouldn’t have accomplished anything.”
“That didn’t stop the police here,” I countered.
“Yeah but the police in a small town like this rarely have a lot more to take care of,” Kendra replied.
I took a gulp of my drink. “Hey! I’ll have you know that there is plenty of crime here,” I told her, pretending to be defensive.
“I can guarantee it’s less than what happened on my beat,” Kendra informed me.
“You should tell me about it sometime,” I said before from the corner of my eye, I caught my Chief waving, wanting me to come over for group pictures to post online. “You’re in town for a while, right? Not just leaving right after this?” I wanted to spend more time with her.
“Yes. I’ll be around. I’m kind of open-ended,” she confirmed.
“Then we should get coffee sometime catch up properly,” I suggested. “I’d like to hear more about what you’ve been up to.”
“I’m game,” Kendra agreed. “I want all the stories of where the hell you went after high school.”
I could see the questions in her eyes. There were so many things I wanted to tell her, like why I left town right after Mom’s funeral, telling no one where I was going or what I was doing. I sighed. Shit. If it hadn’t been for my brothers, I would probably have never come back to this town.
“I’m off this Wednesday,” I said. “We could meet up in town, maybe at Virgil’s?”
Kendra’s eyes widened. “Damn. That place is still open?”
“Hell yes. And still serving the best coffee cake in town,” I told her. “So, Wednesday afternoon?”
“Okay.”
“Your Grandma has my number I think—we have a directory for the elderly, with key phone numbers on it in case there’s a non-fire emergency and they need help.”
“Sounds good,” Kendra said. “I’ll get the number from Grandma and we’ll figure out a time.”
I grinned and got up to go take pictures with the rest of the fire crew. “Look forward to it,” I told her.
“Me too,” Kendra winked at me before waving me off as I hauled ass before the Chief could get annoyed with how long I was taking.
4
Kendra
I checked my face and hair in the mirror and threw a robe on before leaving my bedroom. I’d taken a long hot bath infused with lavender-scented bath salts, done all of my usual evening skincare and hair care routine and even though my leg was throbbing from how much I’d moved around during the party, my stomach was rumbling enough for me to want a late-night snack. I rubbed at the spot where the muscle still wasn’t what it used to be, where the scar was and continued on my way to the kitchen.
“Good to know I’m not the only one who got peckish,” Grandma said from the kitchen table. She had our usual late-night snack out—cheese, apples, and salami, all of it sliced by her hand. “Why would I get pre-sliced when I’ve got perfectly good knives at home and the hands to do it myself?” she used to say, any time I brought it up.
I sat down across from her and snagged a few pieces of local cheddar, two slices of salami, and a few wedges of apple to start with.
“So, was your party everything you hoped it would be?” I asked, taking a bite of apple and cheese.
“It was a damn fine party,” Grandma replied, eating a slice of salami. “And it got even better when I noticed you dancing with Lukas.”
I felt my cheeks warming up with a blush and rolled my eyes, getting up from the table to get a bottle of sparkling water. “I didn’t know he’d come back to town until he told me,” I said, keeping my tone as casual as possible as I opened the refrigerator.
“Oh, he’s been back a while,” Grandma said.
“Want a bottle?” I asked. Grandma nodded. Reaching into the refrigerator, I grabbed two bottles then went to the cabinet for glasses. Making my way back, I placed the items on the table and sat down. “So, he’s been back in town all this time and you didn’t think to tell me?” I poured water into the glasses.
Grandma shrugged. “You’ve been living up in the city, it didn’t seem all that relevant.” She took a sip of water.
“Are you kidding me?” My eyes narrowed. “Lukas used to be my best friend and then he disappeared…” I thought about the house across the street and the fire that destroyed it, killing Lukas’s mother. I’d never found out about what really happened that night or how the fire started. All I knew was that Lukas’s mother had died and right after the funeral he’d disappeared without even saying goodbye to me.
Grandma bit a piece of cheese. “The past is the past. We all have skeletons in the closet and that don’t make us bad. It just proves that we’re human.”
I shoved some salami into my mouth, mulling over Grandma’s words.
“Lukas has a great reputation,” Grandma told me. “Some folks thought after that…you know…incident that he’d be the kind of firefighter that would end up freaking out in a fire.” She drank some water. “It’s a small town, so, you know there were all kinds of talk. Some positive. Some negative. But our Lukas…”
“Our Lukas?” I raised a brow.
“Okay, your Lukas,” she gave me an impish smile.
I ignored the butterflies that fluttered in my stomach. “He’s not mine.”
“Yet.”
“Listen, Grandma…”
She interrupted me, “As I was saying… Lukas proved all the naysayers wrong. He’s even got a few awards in the past few years for bravery. I always figured he took all the bad shit that happened to him and his family and decided he would never let that horror happen to anyone else again.”
“Do you know what he did, before he came back?” I asked, eating more salami and apple. “I mean,” I chewed and swallowed. “At the party, he talked about a friend getting hit by an IED, so I assume he’s ex-military…”
“Yes. Army,” Grandma said. “From what I hear, he spent some time in Iraq and in the Philippines after that.”
I sat back. “Wow.” I tried to imagine the boy I’d known in high school in combat, fighting insurgents and terrorists halfway across the world from where I’d been going to college and then going into the academy. “Lukas’s got to be one of the few people who came back more or less whole.”
Grandma took a bite of cheese and followed it with a sip of water. “You know, given how things were in that house of his, I think nothing could scare him,” Grandma mused.
“Well, that’s a good point,” I said, remembering Lukas’s horrible father. “Did they
ever…” I pressed my lips together, suddenly not so hungry for my snack. “Did they ever figure out what happened that night?”
Grandma shrugged. “Unfortunately, the case is closed and no one in town knows shit about it.” Grandma paused. “And that man who called himself a father and husband ran off before the police could question him. Near as anyone could ever find out, Lukas’s father left the country. Rumor is that something went south that night, and he started the fire, so if he ever shows his face anywhere, he’s wanted for arson and murder.”
“Jesus.” I pushed down a shudder. I never liked Lukas’s father or the way his lecherous eyes would stalk me when Lukas and I would hang out on his porch. “Hopefully, the jackass slips up one day and get his ass caught.”
Grandma nodded. “That’s what everyone around here is hoping for, too. One bad day and an extradition to stand trail for his crime.”
“You know…” I twirled my glass, “the last time I saw Lukas was at the funeral for his mom.” I remembered how skinny he looked in his oversized black suite with a white shirt. His green eyes were so cold and angry but I’d wanted to hug him, tell him I was there for him. But I never got the chance… “I don’t know…” I swallowed hard over the old emotions. “Honestly, I was so hurt when just up and left without saying goodbye to me.”
“From what he’s told me, that wasn’t his fault,” Grandma said. “The recruiter wanted him to ship out right away.”
“Believe me, I get that he wanted to leave this town and all the bad shit as fast as possible but…” I took a huge gulp of water. “Still, I wish he could have at least told me. I would have understood.”
Grandma reached across the table, grabbing my hand. “Kendra. Sometimes when people are hurting bad, they don’t think about others. They just want out of the trap. You can’t blame him for wanting that, can you?”
I shook my head. “No, I don’t blame him at all. I get it, now.” I knew how much it hurt to lose a mother, especially as suddenly as he did. When mom died, I felt angry, abandoned, lost, and even years later I missed her, hearing her voice, feeling her arms wrap around me when I needed her comforting warmth and assurance that everything would be all right. “In fact, he and I will get coffee, catch up a bit.”