His Christmas Love: A Steamy Holiday Novella (Cuffs and Spurs Book 9)

by Anya Summers

  At least the temperatures were holding steady above freezing. For now.

  Their crew joined in the efforts as their captain took charge of the scene, calling out orders. The teams went up the ladders and started venting the building. Another team was charged with breaking out windows, opening the warehouse up to dispel the noxious gases so that his team could enter on this side, with another team from the other station entering on the opposite side. They were going to attempt a squeeze play to extinguish the blaze before it took down the whole building.

  When the call came over the radio for their team to advance, Brady glanced at Gavin with a nod. In that moment, they buried all their turmoil with one another to do the job they were assigned to do. He might be pissed as hell at Brady and hurt over his handling of their friendship, but there was no one he would rather walk into danger with than him. Their cohorts, Jason and Tim, brought up the rear of their little party as they entered through what had been determined the best door. It was a side door on the building, away from where the flames burned hottest.

  One by one, they filed in, breathing through the oxygen in their masks, holding the line as they dowsed flames in a measured, careful progression. The rush of the water, the distinct roar of flames, the reverberation of voices calling out orders and radio static, filled Gavin’s head, along with the sound of his own breathing. They were making headway through what served as the offices for the warehouse, which were little more than half-walled cubicles.

  Brady progressed forward, guiding the line. From the corner of his eye, Gavin noticed the ceiling to the right buckle in a line like an earthquake.

  “Brady, watch out!” he shouted. Timber and plaster cracked, raining down in an explosion of gray dust.

  Behind him, Jason and Tim yelled, “Pull the line back.”

  One minute Brady stood tall before him, in the next, there was a pile of debris on top of him with only his helmet visible. The world tilted on its axis and stood still.

  “Firefighter down!” Gavin shouted over his radio. “I repeat, Tomlinson is down. We need paramedics standing by. Brady. Can you hear me?” Gavin inched forward, keeping an eye on the ceiling. When he was somewhat sure the rest of the building wasn’t going to come crashing down on their heads, he bent near Brady and started hefting debris. Jason and Tim were there too.

  “Jeffries, what the hell is going on?” Chief O’Rourke’s voice came over the com.

  Lifting a chunk of the ceiling off Brady’s still form, Gavin replied, “Part of the ceiling collapsed, Chief. You need to send in another team in the other entrance. And we need help getting Tomlinson dug out.”

  “Is he alive?” Chief asked.

  “I don’t know yet. We need help in here. Over.” He ignored the rest of the orders as he worked to free Brady’s body. They became background noise to his own labored breathing as he fought not to panic.

  Don’t be dead. Please, don’t be dead.

  The mantra repeated itself in his head again and again. There was a buzzing in his ears. The entire scene took on a surreal bent. He kept eyeing the ceiling as they worked to dig him out. Gavin had no idea how long it took them to clear away enough debris to extract Brady from the rubble. It could have been minutes or hours. Time felt suspended and he found himself praying to whomever would listen that Brady would make it out of this. A pair of paramedics had entered behind them with a backboard between them. He knew Mindy and Rick. They were a solid pair. As a group, they secured Brady to the backboard, worried that they could paralyze him if something was broken that they didn’t know about.

  “On three,” Rick shouted above the din.

  And on three, they shifted him, secured against the backboard and rolled him onto his back.

  “I’ve got a pulse,” Mindy said, her fingers on his neck. Then she ordered, “Let’s get him outside. Then we can get his helmet off and into the waiting ambulance. On my count.”

  Gavin almost sagged with relief. Brady was alive. He was out cold beneath the mask, and blood coated his shoulder, but he was alive. Thank Christ!

  Brady moaned in agony as they carted him out on a backboard and loaded him onto a stretcher. Mindy and Rick worked in concert, getting his helmet off, checking his vitals. They found a puncture wound on his shoulder that they packed with gauze to stop the bleeding while they transported him to the hospital. With Gavin’s help, they removed his jacket to patch up the wound, and started an IV.

  When they no longer needed his aid, Gavin stood there watching as they loaded his best friend onto the waiting ambulance.

  “Are you coming?” Rick shouted. “We need to get him to the hospital now.”

  “I’ll follow you. Get going. Take care of him.”

  Rick nodded as he shut the door. “We will.”

  The ambulance sirens blared to life. People and vehicles moved out of the way as it left the scene. Gavin watched the rear lights as they disappeared around a turn. Brady was alive, but they had no idea how bad his injuries were, and he… Jesus. He swiped a hand over his face. He couldn’t lose it. Not here. And not now.

  He had to go tell Hannah. He’d rather stand before a firing squad than tell her Brady was hurt. But it was what Brady would want; he’d want it coming from Gavin and not someone else.

  Captain O’Rourke sauntered over with a scowl on his face. It seemed to be a permanent scowl, given the deep grooves in his forehead, and matched the downturn of his lips. “What the fuck happened?”

  “Part of the ceiling collapsed. He couldn’t get out of the path fast enough. It happened so quick, the damn ceiling exploded.”

  O’Rourke nodded. “I’ve seen it happen before. But it’s fucked up that it happened to one of mine.” He gave Gavin a head to toe assessment. “You’re off duty. We have the coverage, and the fire is under control. You follow him to the hospital and check in; give us updates until the rest of us can get there.”

  Gavin grimaced. “I have a stop to make on the way. His fiancée needs to know.”

  “Fiancée? I didn’t know he’d gotten engaged,” Captain O’Rourke said with a shake of his head and what looked like the weight of the world on his sagging shoulders.

  “Brady proposed at Christmas and she said yes. I need to go get her, tell her what happened, and get her to the hospital.”

  “Fuck, all right. Take my pickup back to the station. I’ll catch a ride on the engine.” The captain nodded, handing Gavin the keys.

  “Will do, Captain. I’ll leave it at the station for you.” Not wasting any more time, Gavin strode over to the large white truck with the fire department emblem emblazoned in red on the doors. He removed the harness with the oxygen tank, and his breathing apparatus. He stowed those in the passenger seat and took his helmet off, adding it to the pile.

  Then he finally climbed into the cab. He flipped the sirens on, left the scene and drove like a man possessed. Jackson wasn’t a large town by any means. Some days, he hated its small size, and on others, like today, he was never so happy to live in a small city. He arrived back at the station in record time. He didn’t even stop inside the firehouse for more than a moment to drop off the captain’s keys and deposit his breathing apparatus, tank, and helmet. He would clean them and do a thorough check on his equipment later, once he knew that Brady was going to pull through. Grabbing his backpack with his change of clothes from his locker, he carried it with him and tossed it in the back seat of his truck.

  He would change at the hospital and worry about the rest later. But first, he had to go tell the woman he loved that her fiancée was in the hospital, that he’d been hurt on the job, and they didn’t know how badly yet.

  Chapter 11

  Hannah answered the door, trying to think of who could possibly be visiting at this time of night. It was frigid out, with temperatures forecasted to dip below freezing again tonight.

  She yanked the door open and felt her heart drop. Gavin stood on the front porch, illuminated by their Christmas lights.

  “Gavin, what
’s going on?” she asked, because he was still dressed in his gear. It made her gut clench to see him on her front stoop in his firefighter jacket and pants, staring at her with a solemnness that was like the Grim Reaper walking across her grave.

  Her heart thumped wildly in her chest. The spaghetti she had eaten for dinner threatened to crawl back up her throat.

  Gavin approached and grabbed her hands. Hannah’s knees wobbled.

  “Gavin? What are you doing here? Where’s…” That’s when she knew. Her heart sank into her toes as she searched his face.

  “I’m so sorry to be the one but—”

  “Please tell me he’s not…” He couldn’t be dead. They were just starting their life together. She’d called her girlfriends today to tell them about the engagement. It couldn’t be over.

  Gavin shook his head in the negative, his jade eyes glowing with intensity. “No, he’s alive. I don’t want to scare you. He was hurt in a blaze, badly, and is at the hospital.”

  “Then what are we waiting for? We need to go. We need to be there,” she replied, disentangling her fingers from his. She grabbed her coat, slid her boots on, and remembered—just barely—to grab her purse and house keys. Her mind raced. How bad was bad?

  “I’ll drive. Come on,” Gavin said, patient as ever, ushering her to his truck.

  Hannah’s legs resembled pudding at this point. She put one foot in front of the other with sheer determination. Gavin lifted her up into his big black truck then strode around the hood to the driver’s side and vaulted in. The engine roared to life. Gavin glanced at her.

  “Deep breaths, baby. Not to worry, he’s too ornery to die on us,” he reassured her. His words broke through the fear thundering in her body.

  “Us?” she whispered, her throat tight, and regarded him, fighting back the deluge of tears threatening.

  In the dim dashboard light, his handsome face softened, and he nodded. “Yeah, us.”

  She reached for him, grabbed his hand and threaded her fingers through his. “Us,” she repeated, feeling her heart swell with hope—and more.

  Gavin lifted their clasped hands and brushed his lips over the back of her hand. “I will be there for you and for Brady, no matter what. I love you both.”

  It was all there in his eyes, turned liquid silver in the dim light: everything he felt for her, naked and on display. She swallowed the lump in her throat. Hannah didn’t know why she’d never seen how much he cared for her before.

  Yes she did, dammit. Because she hadn’t wanted to see it. She hadn’t been ready to admit her feelings for him. And she still wasn’t sure that Brady would be all right with her feelings for his best friend. A few tears slid down her cheeks. She loved Gavin too.

  Why did it have to be so complicated?

  She didn’t know if she could admit her feelings for Gavin and keep both men. It made the words stick in her throat. Gavin brushed his lips over the back of her hand again, not pressing her to reply, before he lowered their hands. But he didn’t release hers and kept her hand clasped in his larger one, feeding her his strength and support. Then he backed out of their driveway. Speeding through the late-night streets, Gavin drove as confidently as Brady.

  They screeched into a parking spot in front of the hospital. Only then did Gavin release her hand, just long enough for them to emerge from his truck. But once outside, again, he clasped her hand and led her into the emergency waiting room.

  The waiting room was half full. Many of the people were coughing. She knew this time of year was high flu season, with all the people traveling.

  Gavin located a few empty seats away from the crowd. “Have a seat. I’m going to check in, see if they can give me any information on his status as one of his crew.”

  “Thank you, Gavin,” Hannah said, giving his hand a firm squeeze before releasing it. Then she sat in one of the chairs. Her legs were still doing an imitation of pudding, anyhow. If not for Gavin’s strength and a driving fear to know whether Brady was okay, she doubted she would have made it here on her own.

  He left her there for a few minutes while he went up to the nurse’s station. Looking at his back, at the tension in the lines of his body, Hannah realized with perfect clarity she had to tell him how she felt about him. Today was living proof that waiting to tell a person how you felt about them was stupid and irresponsible. In a blink, everything could change. And what if it had been Gavin injured, or worse, and she’d not told him? The regret would have eaten her alive.

  Gavin turned and headed her way, his face shrouded in secrets. She had once asked Brady how he could see some of the things he did—the fatal accidents and human suffering—and not let it get to him. He had told her at the time that he compartmentalized while he was working. They all did. It was only afterwards that he allowed it to sink in. And from Gavin’s expression, she had a feeling he did the same thing. On top of that, she’d hurt him by not giving him the words back when he had come to her, to make sure she was here, and given her his strength to lean on and more.

  He sat in the seat beside her.

  “Anything?” she asked, on edge with worry for Brady.

  “They’re working on him right now. The good news is that he’s conscious. Bad news is he’s going to be like a constipated bear being out of work on medical leave while he recovers. They can’t tell me all his injuries yet. But he’s alive, and is going to pull through this.”

  She sagged with relief, blinking back the rush of tears. Brady was going to live. He would recover—if she had to push him, nag him to do it, she would.

  Riding high on a wave of pure emotion, she cupped his cheek with her palm. “I love you, Gavin. I know I should have said it back in your truck. The thing is, I love you both. I don’t know how that works in the real world. And it scares me every bit as much as one of you being injured or worse.”

  Gavin’s gaze smoldered with warmth and love. He kissed her palm. “Don’t worry about that right now. We’ll get it sorted.”

  And then he put his arm around her shoulders, letting her rest her head against him, being her rock, and something inside Hannah clicked into place.

  They were meant to be together. The three of them. She had no idea how the logistics would work—she just knew it, felt it. That was why the other night had been so seamless. They fit.

  Throughout the long hours waiting for word, waiting to be allowed in to see Brady, Gavin was there for Hannah. He was her shoulder to lean upon and bastion against the fear. And she very much doubted she would have made it through the intermittent hours, even with the other firefighters from his unit and members of their club showing up, until they were let back into Brady’s hospital room—without Gavin at her side, feeding her his strength.

  Chapter 12

  Brady emerged from a fog to find Gavin sitting on the small couch in his hospital room, his head lowered to his chest in sleep. On his lap was Hannah—or, more accurately, her head was pillowed on his lap as she lay supine on the couch, covered with a hospital blanket.

  Brady shifted, mindful of his immobile arm and all the machines he was hooked up to, the movement so slight, it barely stirred the air. But Gavin was used to sleeping light, always at the ready because of their job, and lifted his dark head.

  Gavin stared at him across the small expanse. And Brady knew how close a call he’d had today. So did Gavin. And there was a wealth of things Gavin wasn’t saying that Brady already understood with perfect clarity.

  He’d come close to dying while trying to deny that they were a unit. The three of them, together, just fit. Brady did not understand the whys of it, why there was nothing that felt truer than being with Hannah together, screwing her together, loving her together.

  “Gave us quite the scare,” Gavin murmured with a raised brow.

  “Sorry about that. How bad is it?” Brady’s voice sounded distant and gruff, even to his own ears. He’d passed out from the pain after he’d woken up in the emergency room.

  “Fractured left forearm, a
concussion, and there’s a puncture wound on your left shoulder they had to do surgery on and stitch up. Could have been worse.” Gavin’s voice had Hannah’s eyes snapping open.

  Gavin glanced down at Hannah with a look Brady was all too familiar with; the man was thoroughly besotted with her. It was hard not to be, and he knew that well because he looked at her the same way: like she was his whole world.

  “Look who’s awake,” Gavin murmured gently, stroking a hand over her head.

  And, wonder of wonders, Brady’s normal knee-jerk possessiveness was absent. Granted, it could be due to the morphine. But deep down, he understood it was because he was finally okay with sharing her with Gavin—as it was meant to be, as it should have been from the start.

  Hannah shifted and glanced his way. She let out a little sob and sprang up from the couch, almost wiping out on the blanket as she dashed to his side.

  Tears fell down her cheeks as she leaned over and cupped his face in her hands. “You scared the crap out of me.”

  He smiled against her palms and rubbed his face against them. “I know, babe. I’m all right, I promise.” Careful of the IV in his right arm, he brought his hand up and gripped hers, kissing her palm.

  “Is there anything I can do?” she asked, searching his face like she wanted to stitch him up herself.

  “Yeah, there is,” Brady murmured, noting that Gavin stood up, still wearing his uniform pants.

  “Anything,” she swore.

  “Kiss me,” he demanded, because there had been a moment as the ceiling had collapsed in on his head where he had thought: this is it, the end. And the only thing he’d wished for was to kiss Hannah one more time, and to make things right with Gavin.

  Hannah leaned forward and brushed her lips over his. He could taste the salty flavor of her tears and her unique flavor, which declared her his woman. But, in truth, she was theirs. He couldn’t shut Gavin out anymore, and hoped like hell Hannah would be okay with it.