“We can’t do anything about the increase in fires,” Benji said.
“We’ll need to increase the people on each shift. It’s dangerous keeping a light staff when the fires and calls have been off the hook for the last two weeks,” Ethan said.
I finished wiping all my boards and screwed the first two strips of wood together, using my body weight to put the screw in place. “I hate to admit that you’re right,” Garrett admitted. “But you are. We’re going to need you for the night shifts.”
“What about you?” Ethan argued.
“We can split the nights, but everybody else has a normal eight to five jobs outside the fire department. Other than a few meetings, we don’t have to be anywhere, so I told Scott we’d take the extra nights,” Garrett said.
I only caught a brief agreement as I continued drilling the boards into place. My task sufficiently distracted me. By the time I tuned back into their conversation twenty minutes later, the shop talk was a dying ember of thought as they joked with one another. Ethan was catching a lot of shit for being covered in stain, and I didn’t miss the glances at the stain covering my face. I wondered if it was obvious what we had done?
I turned my head just in time to see Benji attacking Ethan in a fake wrestling maneuver. What did I miss in their conversation? Garrett joined in quickly, and it became a full brawl against Ethan. At first, I found myself laughing wildly as Ethan threw Benji to the ground and continued rough housing with his brother, but as Benji jumped back in, he grabbed Ethan’s shirt and it twisted to his chest, exposing the bare skin.
I noticed Ethan’s wild, terrified expression as his skin was exposed. His wrestling grew frantic, but they didn’t notice the difference in his antics. A glimpse of the wrinkled and melted skin there was all it took for me to act instinctively. I grabbed one of my boards and slammed it to the ground. It narrowly missed my foot, but I bent and grabbed the foot anyways. “Shit,” I shouted.
Everyone turned and looked at me as I held my feigned injury. Ethan immediately lowered his shirt and tucked a corner of it into his pants. His suspicious expression told me that he saw exactly what I had done. I didn’t give myself a moment to question why I did it. “You okay?” Garrett asked, looking between the board and my foot.
“Fine,” I ground through my teeth. Somebody needed to give me an Oscar. “Just leave me to finish my work, please.”
Nobody argued as they all walked through the doorway and into another room. The only one who paused was Ethan. He turned and glanced back at me as I released my foot. He smiled and mouthed two words that made my performance worth it: “Thank you.”
I knew why I had done it once they all left. I knew how I felt about the man, and I knew how he felt about the scars. Something about our relationship changed. I didn’t know when it was or how it happened, but I knew I couldn’t keep away from Ethan no matter how hard I tried.
I paused while assembling the wood and looked down at my hands—at the wedding ring I still hadn’t taken off. There was somewhere I had to go before taking things any further with Ethan.
Chapter Eight
I couldn’t get the stain off my face or arms, and my clothes were destroyed, but I couldn’t wait. After I finished assembling the furniture at Ethan’s house and attempting to clean the mess he made on his island, I took a route I so rarely found myself taking anymore. I went by the local florist and got an entire bundle of baby’s breath. She smiled at me and told me that it’s been a while, but I paid her little attention as I got back in my car and drove.
When I parked, I was surrounded by green lawns and flowers. Some flowers were dead, and some were replenished daily, never losing their luster.
Headstones poked through the earth, marking the place where loved ones would rest for an eternity. I knew the path by heart as I entered through the gates and walked the paved road. Sometimes I’d recognize a last name; it was a small town, after all. Most of the headstones, though, floated by without attracting an ounce of my attention.
I clutched the baby’s breath in my hands. The cemetery smelled so heavily of cut grass and blooming flowers that the baby’s breath was drown out entirely. The sun was an unrelenting sauna, calling beads of moisture onto my skin. I saw a grave in the distance—the one for which I’d been searching. It grew larger as I approached until I was standing above it, looking down on a name that still broke my heart if given too much thought. Bruce Brookes stared up at me, along with the engraved dates of his birth and death.
Beloved father and husband. Forever loved. Forever missed.
They charged me for each word, but it needed to be said. Our grandchildren would one day know of the man who bought their grandma flowers every Friday to start the weekend off right. They’d hear stories of the legendary Bruce who constructed many of Brunswick’s structures by hand, though he’d only lived in Georgia for less than three years. I’d be sure to explain why we brought baby’s breath to his grave rather than traditional flowers. When he saw it in my hair the day we got married in the courthouse, he vowed he’d never love another flower so much. In front of our home, he planted entire bushes of baby’s breath. He loved it because he loved me.
And I would never stop loving him.
But as I sat and leaned against his headstone, brushing the dust from the top with my bare hand, I sighed. “I promised I’d never forget you or stop loving you,” I started. “I still bring Derrick here to see you every few weeks.”
I didn’t want to mention that Derrick only remembers the idea of his dad, and not so much who Bruce truly was. Derrick liked to place cars on the grave, because he wanted his dad to play with him. He wanted a dad so badly, and I knew it would only get worse with time. “I told you about Ethan Jones a while back—probably when I first moved to New York. Remember him? One of the three Jones brothers who I grew up with?” I chuckled. “You never met any of them, but they’re great people.”
I closed my eyes and imagined him sitting in front of me, listening intently to each word. He always listened, and I liked to believe he still was. “I thought that staying single would best honor you, so I haven’t looked at another guy until recently. How long is long enough to wait? To mourn you?” I asked, sniffing the air. With my eyes closed, I could almost imagine he was with me. I could almost smell his favorite cologne on the air.
“I got back in contact with Ethan, and he’s not the guy I remember. He’s the one who saved me and Derrick. He was my best friend. God, I’m so sorry I never introduced you two. I think you would approve, though. He loves Derrick, and he’s almost as chivalrous as you.” I thought about what I had witnessed Ethan do over the past few days. “He’s teaching Derrick to carry things and pull out chairs for me. And he won’t let me carry anything heavy. He always opens doors, too. I want Ethan to grow up with a man in the house, and I could see Ethan being that man. I’m going to give it a shot. I’m going to see where this thing between us goes.”
I bit my lip and didn’t stop the single tear from streaming down my face. “But I need a sign. I need to know that this isn’t too soon.”
I waited for as long as I could with the scolding sun pounding down on my skin. I wasn’t met with any decisive sign. I could grow to love Ethan, but could I grow to forgive myself without a sign from Bruce?
But Bruce was gone, and the only one left to judge my decision was me.
Chapter Nine
By the time I got to the station to make dinner with Derrick, the guys were all run ragged and laying in the break room. I paused, but Derrick paid no attention to the social cues and rushed toward Garrett, who slept on the couch. Derrick bounced on Garrett’s stomach, and he groaned before his eyes sprung open. “Derrick,” I scolded, a look of embarrassment plastered to my face. The other three men stirred, and I looked around for Ethan.
“He’s on watch,” Garrett said as he noticed my glances. He pointed in the direction of the door. He held Derrick on top of him and smiled at the boy.
I sat the full crock
pot on the counter and plugged it into an outlet, turning the setting to high. “Come on, Derrick,” I said, holding out a hand for him. I was met with an immediate pouty face. “Derrick,” I said with a firmness in my voice.
“He’s fine. He can stay here. I’ll put on cartoons,” Garrett said. His voice was sleepy, and his eyes drooped as he grabbed the remote from the floor. “We need to be up anyway.”
I left in pursuit of Ethan, who was easy to find. He lay on top of the fire truck, hands behind his head. He could have easily been a model with the pose he held, and I keenly watched him for a moment. He didn’t move a muscle. “I hope you’re not sleeping,” I hollered up to him.
He jerked and looked down at me with a lazy smile. “Never. I’m on duty.” I knew I woke him.
“Hm, I’m sure. Why are all of you sleeping?” I asked. The other times I came for dinner, they were all enjoying their time together. Usually they played cards or kept one another company.
He stretched and sat up, climbing down the ladder in a way that told me he had done it a hundred times before. His white T-shirt beneath overalls appeared crumpled. “We’ve responded to two highway crashes and a spreading outdoor fire today. One of the crashes turned into a pileup that took hours to clean up. Garrett’s been here all night, and because of the chaos he didn’t get to leave. Everyone else came in early. It’s been a shit show today.”
I raised my eyebrows in surprise. “So, everyone’s going to be hungry.”
“Starving,” he corrected.
I smiled as he neared. I grabbed his rough, calloused hand and kissed the knuckles. He smiled and followed as I led him into the break room silently. “It’s a good thing the chili is already cooked and ready to eat,” I told him before we entered the break room.
“Wait for me,” a woman shouted. Sylvia came rushing around the corner, looking at her phone. “Six o’clock on the dot,” she said proudly.
I smiled. “Here for dinner?” I asked.
She scoffed. “I’m here to help cook dinner. And I’m going to bring Garrett home as soon as he’s done eating because he’s been up for twenty-four hours and he is not driving home.”
She followed us into the break room where all the men were sitting up and stretching silently. “It’s a good thing that dinner’s ready,” I told her, lifting the lid of the crockpot. “Come get it while it’s still warm,” I told everyone. I hoped to avoid another interrupted dinner by making it early and bringing it, so I tested my theory as the men all gathered their hardy portions and sat on the couch.
Ethan and Garrett pulled up chairs for Sylvia and me before grabbing their own food. “This is some bomb ass chili,” Nehemiah said as he further stuffed his face.
“Careful, you’re showing your age,” Scott said with a grin.
“I’m only showing that I’m not old like you nerds.”
I snickered. “Nehemiah, how old are you?” I asked. He couldn’t have been older than twenty-one.
“Nineteen.” I was shocked. I had no idea that he was ten years younger than Ethan and me—likely twenty years younger than Scott.
I nodded and took another bite of chili. Sylvia broke the silence. “I have fun news,” she said to the room. Everyone gave their full attention to her. “They town is trying to raise money for the woman’s shelter, and you all know how last year they auctioned off a lot of donations? Well, this year they had a better idea, but they want me to run it by all of you. Listen,” she said dramatically. “It will raise so much money, and…”
“Trust me, dear. Everyone is listening,” Garrett cut her off.
She scowled. “They want to auction off the local firefighters and young police officers for a date,” she squealed.
Garrett looked at her funny. “Over half of us are married or in a relationship. Me included. To you.”
“Those are just details. It’s just a date. It doesn’t have to be romantic,” she claimed, avoiding eye contact. “I mean, you’ll all be shirtless, but that doesn’t mean anything.”
My eyes shot to Ethan, who looked intently at his chili. “I don’t think it’s a good idea,” I proposed. “What if someone gets the wrong idea? A bunch of shirtless men parading around doesn’t seem too safe.”
Sylvia outright laughed. “I promise, they can take care of themselves. Plus, there will be a photographer there, and they want to do a spread in the magazine. Please, please, please,” she pleaded. “I told the mayor I’d convince you.”
I choked up a piece of ground beef. “The mayor is supporting this?” I asked.
“Of course, he is. Who wouldn’t want to see the most eligible bachelors in Brunswick marching around without a shirt?”
“A middle aged, straight man, probably,” I said, referring to the mayor. I glanced toward Ethan once again. I knew Sylvia was aware of his discomfort, but why was nobody else considering him?
“I’m in. I don’t have a girl at home,” Benji said, getting up and reaching for the spoon to serve himself another scoop of chili.
“That makes one out of five,” I told Sylvia. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”
Scott sighed. “I’m sure my old lady would be fine with this as long as she can bid away our money, too.”
Nehemiah grinned ear to ear. “I’m in,” he said. “But I’ll run for a hell of a lot more than you old men.”
Garrett shook his head. “Well my wife already volunteered me.”
I stared at Ethan, who was the last to remain silent. We all continued eating the chili, and the other men started a side conversation, wondering how much they’d be worth to the public. Would they get to be in the newspaper shirtless? Did they get to pick their favorite bidder? They were all hyped, but Ethan didn’t say a word.
He finally looked up. “I’m not doing it,” he said.
Everyone went silent. “Why not, dude?” Benji asked immediately. “You’re not fat like Scott.”
“Shut the hell up, Benji,” Scott said, glaring at him. Benji was easily double the weight of Scott, so he had no room to speak. “If Ethan doesn’t want to, he doesn’t have to.”
I knew there would be a further conversation about Ethan taking part in the bidding, but I didn’t want to start it surrounded by his friends. It would be a perfect opportunity to show him how little his scars would affect the public.
Benji didn’t listen to Scott, and he continued talking. “No, but for real man. You can’t be scared to take off your shirt your whole life. And you can’t be afraid of fires if you’re going to be a firefighter.”
“Benji, shut up,” Ethan said. His voice didn’t have much power, almost as if he didn’t want everyone to know how much the words affected him.
“Seriously, man. I can’t trust that you have my back if you’re afraid to go into fires. I wasn’t here when you got hurt, but I heard about it. It was forever ago,” Benji said. He didn’t look angry, and I was thoroughly convinced that he wasn’t aware of how he was hurting Ethan. There were scars on Ethan’s side, but the ones that hurt him most were internal, and Benji was stabbing at all of them.
“You can’t trust me to have your back?” Ethan asked. A fire burned in his eyes, and I knew Benji had gone way too far. “You think I would hesitate for one fucking second if one of you were trapped in a burning house? I wouldn’t wait for backup. I didn’t wait for backup when Lena’s house was burning down. Why? Because I’m a damn good firefighter. Would you risk your ass to save a dying family if it means you might not walk out alive, Benji? Would you?”
Benji looked startled by Ethan’s outburst, and every set of eyes moved between Benji, Ethan, and me. Derrick looked confused, unsure of how the talk grew so loud all at once. He rushed from Garrett’s side and stood beside me. I flushed as I realized that they all knew my secret.
Garrett stood and grabbed Benji by the scruff of the neck, dragging him from the room before he had the chance to dig the whole deeper. Silence was all that was left for precious moments before the fire bell sounded.
&nbs
p; Sylvia and I stood motionless as the men dropped all they were doing and rushed toward their suits, preparing for another hectic fire. It was all I could do to keep a straight face through the embarrassment of what just happened. Was I embarrassed for myself, for Benji, or for Ethan? I knew Benji was considered the dumb one of the friends, but could he possibly be so oblivious to Ethan’s struggles?
I considered going home with Derrick as he stood at my side, unsure of what to think of Ethan’s raised tone and swearing. Sylvia looked at me. “You never told me,” she whispered. I never imagined anything would make Sylvia speechless.
“I didn’t think it was important,” I told her. “I didn’t want you to look at me like you are right now.”
She rubbed her face and spoke through her hands. “It’s just something a friend would know.” She shook her head. “And Ethan? That’s why you two got so close all of the sudden?”
“He’d been helping around my yard out of guilt for years, so I asked to do a job for him instead,” I explained. I felt immensely guilty for using his broken heart and shattered mentality to advance my own agenda. I hadn’t realized the extent of what I was doing—how I was taking advantage of him—until speaking to Sylvia.
Sylvia stood and made her way out the door. “I just need to walk away for a little while,” she admitted before leaving Derrick and I alone.
Did withholding such a big part of myself hurt our friendship? Did I break that, too? “Are they mad at Ethan for helping us out of the fire?” Derrick asked.
I whipped my head around to him as the fire truck sirens fled the building. I opened my mouth to respond, but how would I explain this to a five-year-old? No, dear. They’re mad because Ethan is scared of his own body and of fires. It was saving us that did that to him. For once, I was clueless.
Hearts Ablaze (Courageous Hearts Series Book 2) Page 5
