Saving His Heart

by Jennifer Youngblood

  “Ah, here you are, Amy-cakes.” Colton gave her a warm smile.

  Theresa’s lips hardened at the mention of this familiar nickname. Geez, Colt, why did you have to say that? Amy felt herself blush under Theresa’s scrutinizing gaze.

  Theresa’s eyebrows had been plucked so masterfully that her blue eyes seemed much larger than they actually were. “So you’re Colton’s friend? Amy?” she asked.

  Her voice was rougher than Amy expected for someone of her beauty. It sounded as if she’d been a smoker. Maybe she still was—which would be odd, since Colton had a thing against going out with women who could start random fires when throwing away their cigarette butts. Had he given up on his principles for Theresa?

  “Hi, Theresa. Yes, I’m Amy.” Amy stuck her hand out to the brunette as they shook.

  The calculating glint in Theresa’s eyes softened somewhat after she gave Amy a slow once-over. Even the corners of her lips settled into a friendlier expression. Amy didn’t know if she should be happy or mortified by the change in the girl’s mood. From one side, it was a good thing that Theresa didn’t view her as competition. But from the other, it made Amy feel insecure about her washed-out jeans and the simple station shirt Colton had lent her, claiming it would be fun for Amy to dress in navy colors too.

  As if Theresa was thinking the same thing, she pointed at Amy’s chest. “I see Colton finally found someone to whom he could donate all that ridiculous station apparel. Thank heavens. I wouldn’t put it on even if they forced me.” She giggled as if her comment was particularly funny.

  Colton rolled his eyes. “Oh, Theresa. You would look amazing in those T-shirts. But never mind. Amy is good with wearing them, aren’t you?” He flashed a questioning glance at Amy.

  Amy adjusted the T-shirt that she’d tucked into her jeans. Maybe she should have told Colton that she felt like she was wearing a tent, but he’d been so enthusiastic about them pulling off a twin navy look that she didn’t want to disappoint him. This, of course, was not something she wanted to bring up with Theresa. Therefore, Amy just nodded. “I don’t have all my stuff here yet. Some things I had to put in storage till I find my own place. So having some extra clothes doesn’t hurt.”

  Theresa pursed her lips. “Well, I’d rather wear the same stylish dress three days in a row than dress like a firegirl, but it’s your choice.”

  Colton frowned. “Hey, what’s wrong with looking like a firefighter?”

  Theresa’s face twisted into a pandering grimace. “Nothing, of course. I love, love, love the look of firemen. So hot and manly,” she purred, caressing Colton’s forearm. “I just don’t think that macho uniform fits women, that’s all.”

  Ah, so Theresa is one of those … a firefighter groupie. Obsessed with the uniform.

  Amy watched Colton’s face relax under Theresa’s cajoling words, and a gag reflex pushed its way to her throat. She swallowed hard to force the sensation down. She wasn’t here to judge the choices that Colton made in his love life. She came here to turn around her own miserable existence. To find her roots.

  If Colton’s girlfriend wanted to put Amy into the untrendy tomboy category, that was fine. If Theresa felt less threatened by Amy because she wore a station T-shirt, then Amy would gladly keep dressing in firefighter apparel. Anything to make this woman be okay with Amy temporarily living with her boyfriend.

  Colton offered his plate of fries to Theresa, but she pushed it away. “I need to watch my calories, you know. I have a shoot in three days.”

  “A shoot?” Amy asked.

  Theresa smiled proudly. “Yes, I’m modeling for a bathing suit brand.”

  “Wow, so you’re a professional model?” Amy felt even goofier now. No wonder Theresa looked so put together.

  “Well, not yet. But I’m on the way to becoming one.” Theresa’s voice sounded confident. “I’m working as an aesthetician while I get my career going.”

  Colton patted Theresa’s back. “She’s pretty focused on her work. Though she never misses a chance to scold me because I’m also dedicated to mine.”

  Theresa gave him an annoyed look. “Of course. Whenever there’s a fire truck horn, you’re looking for it and hoping you’re not missing anything good.”

  “Fire engine,” Amy murmured.

  “What’s that?” Theresa snapped her head as if surprised that Amy dared to interfere in this somewhat intimate topic.

  Amy bit her lower lip, wondering if she should just stay quiet and pretend she didn’t say anything.

  But Colton busted her, giving Amy an approving grin. “Amy just pointed out that most of the horns we hear come from fire engines, not trucks. Trucks have the huge ladder and specific tools for—”

  “Stop!” Theresa placed her hand over his mouth. “No more lectures on proper firefighting terms. It’s annoying. And boring. I think I’m entitled to feel upset when you rush off in the middle of a conversation because your pager went off. Aren’t I?” Her eyes flicked to Amy.

  Oh, great. Now Theresa is expecting me to side with her. Why couldn’t I have just kept my big, fat mouth shut? It was all Amy’s dad’s fault. Even though neither Zach nor Amy wanted to become firefighters, their father made sure they knew the station slang and rules inside and out … just in case they ever changed their minds. A contradictory move from a man who made his daughter promise never to date a fireman. Then again, Henry Powell was a one-of-a-kind man who didn’t fit into any category.

  Theresa was still staring at Amy, awaiting her answer.

  Amy sucked in a breath. “Well … actually, when a pager beeps, it means there’s an emergency, so technically Colton is rushing off to save someone.”

  Colton’s smile stretched to his ears. “Thank you very much, Amy.”

  Theresa’s eyes narrowed, her previous amiable manners quickly vanishing.

  To salvage the situation, Amy added, “But of course I understand Theresa’s concern. That’s why I made the rule of never dating a man in a uniform. I don’t want to be second to his job.”

  Theresa bobbed her head to the side, her brows sliding into an expression of utter confusion. “Wait, so you aren’t dazzled by their looks? I mean, I hate when Colt leaves me high and dry, but when he comes back smelling all smoky and hot … it’s a total turn-on.”

  Amy dropped her head to her chest. This was definitely too much information. She grabbed her glass and took a sip, hoping that when she looked up again, she wouldn’t find a lustful Theresa drooling over Colton.

  The ringing of Theresa’s phone came as a welcome distraction. She picked up, and after exchanging a few excited words, she hung up. “It was Luis. My photographer. He needs me to go over to his place to pick the costumes for the shoot.”

  Colton put his hand on her elbow. “But you just got here. I thought you'd come and meet my grandmother today?”

  Theresa looked like she was already somewhere else in her head. Probably evaluating which bikini color would complement her creamy complexion the best.

  “Oh, that … geez … sorry. We’ll do it another time. It’s not like your granny would remember me after I went there, right? Didn’t you say she's all senile now?”

  Colton’s jaw tightened. “No, those were not my words.”

  Theresa flashed him a sweet smile. “Don’t be all grumpy-mumpy now.” She gave him a kiss on the cheek and tried to move her mouth farther to his lips.

  He turned his head. “No problem. Just go,” Colton said. “We can do it another time.”

  Theresa reached for her bag and jumped up. She waved to Amy. “It was good to meet you. I hope you find a place to rent soon. Threesomes are good, but I look forward to spending time alone with Colt at his place.” She winked at Amy as if her phrase was meant as an inside joke between gals.

  Maybe it was, but her words still stung. They made Amy feel like an intruder.

  Theresa clicked away on her boots, her hips undulating to the rhythm of her heels.

  When she was gone, Amy’s eyes darted to
Colton. He was still gazing at his plate with a frown.

  “She’s nice. Theresa, I mean.” Amy tried to keep her voice upbeat and significantly more enthusiastic than she felt about Theresa. It was clear that Theresa wasn’t the girl for Colton. She seemed to hate everything that made Colton, Colton. Except his uniform. But Amy had already established that it wasn’t her place to form an opinion about the appropriateness of her friend’s relationship, so she withheld her true feelings.

  Colton blinked at her. “Yeah, she’s cool. I just don’t get it, you know? She’s been begging me to get serious with her. Always complaining that I’m away more often than with her. Now, when I do what she asked, she bails on me. And why? Because she has to pick outfits for a frigging shoot that’s still three days away?”

  Amy licked her lips. What should she say to that? “Women can be confusing. I’m sure she wanted to come, but she has her job responsibilities. You need to accept that.”

  Colton reached out and squeezed Amy’s hand. “You’re just so sweet, you know that? Always assuming the best of people. It’s cute.”

  Amy’s heart began to race from the warmth of his touch. The sudden staccato made her so perplexed that she jumped to the first line of defense she could think of. She wiggled her hand free and feigned an angry look. “Cute, huh? Did you just deliberately press my berserk button? You know I hate it when I’m called that. I would much rather be ravishing or dazzling.”

  Colton chuckled, but then his face became serious. He sought Amy’s gaze, and when their eyes locked, he said, “But you are, Amy. You’re ravishing. Never doubt that.”

  There was a deep edge to his voice that sent chills to Amy’s spine, rushing her cells into an unusual buzz. Oh, goodness. Colton should really dose his charisma better. If he didn’t, Amy’s old feelings might just start to surface again. And that would be a catastrophe.

  She pointed her finger at him. “Good, you saved yourself just in time.” She added a giggle that sounded more like the nervous outburst of a hyena, but Colton grinned, so he probably interpreted it the way it was meant. A joke between two friends. Because that’s what they were and would be. Just friends.

  Colton rubbed his chin. “I’m wondering … since we already had lunch, and it’s your last free afternoon before you start your new job …”

  “Yes?” If Colton had a proposition for Amy, she would be up to it. She didn’t feel like staying in his house alone while he went to visit his grandmother.

  “Why don’t you come with me to visit Grandma? She would be thrilled to see you … you know, in case we catch her on a bright day when she remembers who she is.”

  Amy’s chest warmed. Visiting Mrs. Myers had been on her to-do list, but she didn’t want to ask Colton to take her. “I’d love to.” She smiled. “Even if she doesn’t recall who I am, it will be great to see her.”

  “Well, then, let’s go.” Colton gave her a boyish smile, one that made him look like the younger version of himself. The one Amy had wanted to invite to the prom.

  No, stupid brain. Stop fishing around old memories that are off-limits.

  “I’ll just go and ask for the check,” Colton said, and he straightened up.

  Thank goodness. Having Colton a few feet away should help her settle her thoughts. Diving into the world of unfulfilled desires was a dangerous road to go down.

  She wouldn’t do it. She mustn’t do it.

  5

  Granny patted Colton’s cheeks with her veined hands. “Oh, my boy. I’m so glad you came. How is school? Did you eat the lunch I packed? Bridget wanted us to play Scrabble together. But between you and me—” a naughty smile appeared on her thin, wrinkled lips “—she can’t remember the words she finds a second after she picks them. I’d much rather chat with you two.”

  Colton’s eyes flicked to Amy, who was beaming at his grandmother.

  “We’re glad we came at a good time, Mrs. Myers. The peanut butter sandwich you made for Colt was delicious,” Amy said, winking at him.

  Colton’s neck relaxed. Good. Amy had realized that the best strategy was to go with whatever reality his grandmother was living in at the moment. Amy even recalled what his grandmother used to pack in his lunch box when they were still at school. Impressive.

  His grandmother patted her own chest. “I always choose with great care what I give to my boy as a snack.” She pinched Colton’s forearm between two bony fingers. “He needs to get strong if he wants to become a fireman someday, doesn’t he?”

  Amy nodded. “Yes, he certainly does. But don’t worry. When it happens, he’ll make an excellent one. The best and bravest firefighter in all of Jackson. Trust me. Even my dad says so.”

  Colton’s chest warmed. Amy rarely complimented him when it came to firefighting. Maybe her father’s death had made her build a wall against the entire firefighting profession. She had respect for them, but she didn’t want anything to do with their world after the job-related cancer had taken her father away too soon. So her words were a rare treat for Colton’s ears.

  Granny blinked at Colton. “Did you hear that, Colt? Even Mr. Powell thinks you will become a hero. If only your parents could see you now …” Her forget-me-not irises darkened as fat tears welled up in her eyes.

  Oh, no. She would soon go down the road of reciting the accident. There were days when Colton would let his grandmother talk about it, knowing it was her only relief valve from the pain she felt over the deaths of her daughter and Colton’s father.

  But not today. Today he couldn’t take it if his grandmother made him relive the fire, the smell of burning flesh, and that awful fear. With Amy here, he wanted to focus on the good stuff in his life.

  Amy came to his rescue by finding the perfect bait for his grandmother. “The prom is coming up soon. Did you already iron Colton’s shirt, Mrs. Myers?”

  Ah, what a catch. If there was one thing his grandmother wouldn’t forget, even in the depths of her Alzheimer’s, it was that she used to obsessively do her laundry. That was probably why Colton had so much trouble washing his own clothes—he never had to do it when he lived with her.

  His grandmother clapped her hands, the signs of nostalgia vanishing from her face. “Oh, dear. I didn’t think of that yet. I’ll need to do it right after my Scrabble party.” She smiled at Amy. “You’re such a good girl, Amy. Your brother is a good kid too. It’s so lovely of you to have Colton spend time in your house like he belongs there. This boy—” she poked Colton’s chest “—has such a hunger for affection. Of course, he would never say that himself. But take it from me.”

  “Ah, Granny, stop. You’re embarrassing me,” Colton murmured. He wasn’t in need of love. He was in a good place where he could help others each day and feel rewarded for it, emotionally and financially. Nothing was missing in his life.

  His grandmother wasn’t even paying attention to him. “Do you already have a date, Amy? Who are you going with to the prom?”

  Amy’s cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink, and her eyes darted to the ceiling.

  Colton studied her face, and his brows rose. Was Amy pretending to be flustered like a teenager? Or did his grandmother’s comment truly faze her?

  Colton racked his brain, trying to remember who Amy had gone with to the prom, but he couldn’t recall it. He and Zach had ended up inviting the Callehan twins, and they’d had a fairly good time. But he didn’t have any memory about Amy during the dance.

  Amy glanced back at his grandmother, the color fading from her cheeks. “Well, I’ve decided to go alone. There are no boys I would like to go with.”

  His grandmother’s eyes widened, but then she grinned. “Marvelous. Then you should go with Colt. Colt,” she said, turning to him, “invite Amy to the prom.”

  Colton jerked back. “What? Why?”

  His grandmother stared at him, then slowly lifted her hand and whirled her index finger beside her temple. “Do you have memory problems, son? You told me that if there’s any girl worthy of attention, it’s Amy. Sh
e’s the greatest of all—your words.”

  Colton’s jaw dropped. Those words … they did sound similar. Almost as if he had actually said them at some point in his life.

  Then the memory of that particular afternoon in their old house came rushing back. Granny had asked who the cutest girl in his school was. He'd felt awkward, like any young man would be when prompted like that. But his grandmother had been insistent, and in the end he'd given in and told her that the girl he liked most was his best friend. Amy.

  He’d forgotten all about that. How was it possible? He glanced at Amy, who was watching him with an unreadable expression. She chewed her lower lip like she always did when she felt bewildered. Oh, Granny. Why did you have to recall that exact moment? Amy might draw the wrong conclusion from her silly words.

  Back then, Colton had told his grandmother that he was friends with Amy, and he would never do anything to ruin their friendship. Especially not since he knew the rule Mr. Powell had laid out for his daughter. The man was Colton’s role model and Colton would never have gone behind his back like that.

  His grandmother didn’t notice the effect of her careless revelation. Instead, she leaned closer to Amy, lowering her voice to sound conspiratorial but loud enough for Colton to catch every word. “Amy, Colton is a bad dancer. You’ll need to pay attention that he doesn’t stomp on your foot. If I were you, I would wrap my toes in tissue paper before putting on my high heels. It will help with the blisters as well as prevent any damage from my boy’s uncoordinated moves.”

  Okay … enough. His grandmother was going too far with this story. Colton straightened from the chair, pointing at his watch. “Granny, I think your Scrabble party is about to begin. We should go.” He shot a pleading glance at Amy.

  She followed his lead and stood up too. “I’ll come again soon, Mrs. Myers. It was so lovely to see you.”

  His grandmother didn’t peek up at them. She appeared lost in her thoughts.

  “Granny, I said we're leaving.” Colton raised his voice slightly, hoping that she would hear him.