Trevor laughs, but doesn’t seem concerned about my lack of culinary skills. “So you pretty much survive on frozen dinners and leftovers.”
“That sounds about right. And every once in a while Coop will feel sorry for me and bring over food.”
Trevor’s hand stills midair, and then he slowly puts the bite into his mouth.
“What was that?” I ask.
“What was what?”
“You just got a funny look on your face.”
He swallows his bite and shakes his head. “It was nothing.”
I set my fork down and reach for his hand. “Tell me. If we’re going to make this work, we have to be able to talk to each other.”
“It’s silly.” He links his fingers with mine, and when I just stare at him he sighs. “Fine. I was just thinking that my brothers know you better than I do, and that bothers me.”
Warmth seeps through my veins, making my toes tingle. I push up from my chair. Trevor scoots his back, allowing me to settle in his lap.
“Your brothers know all the surface stuff. They know I can’t cook. They know I’ve never ridden a horse, that I hate hot dogs, and that appletinis are my favorite drink. They don’t know that bacon and eggs are my favorite breakfast—”
“You’re just saying that,” he interjects.
I shake my head. “I most certainly am not. They also don’t know that I despise my feet.”
“Or that you snore.”
“I don’t snore.”
“You do. And it’s cute,” Trevor says, kissing the tip of my nose.
“My point is that they only know the basic stuff. They don’t know the deeper stuff, the things I keep hidden from the rest of the world.”
“I want to know those things.”
I run my fingers down the side of his face. “I feel the same way about you.”
Trevor kisses me long and deep, and by the time we part, the bacon is cold and Milo has managed to find her way onto my lap, trying desperately to get to Trevor’s face. I pick her up and set her back on the floor. She whines for a second and then prances away.
“I really want to tell you I love you again,” I say, looking at Trevor.
“So why don’t you?”
“Last night was emotional for both of us, and I wasn’t sure if you said it because we were in the heat of the moment, or if you meant it, and then I was wondering if it’s too soon—”
Trevor puts a finger to my lips. “You think too much.”
“I’ve been told.”
“Yes, last night was emotional, and yes, I said those things in the heat of the moment, but it doesn’t make my words any less true. I told you I love you because I do. I’ve known you my entire life. There are pictures of you in our family albums, Claire. My love for you started out organically, and it has grown over the years into something much deeper. It is rooted in these spectacular memories I have of you, and it’s growing by the second.”
He runs his fingers through my hair and continues. “When I say I love you, it’s not to get you into bed. It’s because I mean it. I love your smile and the way your eyes light up when you laugh. I love your fiery red hair and how you’ve always got a strand of it wrapped around your finger. I love the way you scrunch your nose when you’re thinking and how you talk with your hands. I love how loyal you are to your friends and how you talk to Milo like she’s a human being. But most of all, I love how you make me feel. You make me want to be a better man, Claire.”
“Trevor—”
He cuts off my words with a deep kiss. “I don’t want you to say anything. You don’t need to return the sentiment. I just want you to know that when I tell you I love you, I mean it, and if you love me, then please, tell me, and if you’re not ready to say those words again, that’s okay too. I’m in this for the long haul.”
The long haul.
Thoughts of Trevor’s occupation leak into my head, and I remember all the nights my mom sat up waiting for Dad to get home from a fire call. It would be easy to let my insecurities get the best of me. I could withdraw and push Trevor away and tell myself I’m better off without him, but I already know that’s not true. Instead of letting my fears get the best of me, I choose to bask in the beautiful feelings Trevor brings out in me.
“I love you, too, Trevor.”
He kisses me again. His fingers slide under my shirt and up my back as he holds me to him, and then he shocks the hell out of me when he grips me by the hips and lifts me from his lap.
“Hey,” I whine. “I wasn’t done with you.” I try to climb back into his lap, but he stands up.
“No.” He takes a step back. “If I keep touching you, I won’t be able to stop, and you have to get ready for work.”
“What are you going to do today?”
“Dad is working with a new bull rider, so I’ve got ranch duty.”
“I didn’t know your dad trained bull riders.”
“Who do you think taught Rhett?”
“I knew he taught Rhett, but I didn’t know he still worked with newbies.”
Trevor shrugs. “He doesn’t do it often. Usually just if it’s someone he knows or a family member. It’s not something he advertises.”
“Will I see you when you get done?” I ask, sauntering toward him. Trevor eyes me but doesn’t try to get away when I reach for him.
“You have tutoring tonight, right?” he asks.
I nod. “Yes, but I’ll be done early and home by six.”
“Then I’ll pick you up at six thirty.”
I tilt my head and grin. “Pick me up? For what?”
“For our first official date.”
“Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“I don’t like surprises. I’m more of an instant gratification kind of girl.”
Trevor laughs and pushes my roaming hands away. “Sorry, sweetheart. I love surprises, so get used to it.”
“Can you give me a hint?” I ask.
He thinks about it for a second and then says, “No.”
“What should I wear?”
“Something casual.”
“Casual like jeans and a T-shirt or casual like stretchy eating pants?”
Trevor laughs. “You could wear a garbage bag and I’d still find you insanely attractive. Wear whatever you’re most comfortable in. Now, go get ready for work.”
31
Trevor
“This is not at all what I expected when you said you were taking me on a date tonight,” Claire says as we stroll along the pier.
The air is filled with laughter and music and the delicious smell of fried food. Lights on the Ferris wheel twinkle in the sky as it circles around, and I take Claire’s hand.
“Yeah? What did you expect?”
She shrugs and smiles at me. “I don’t know. Most men usually take me to a fancy restaurant where they can wine and dine me.”
“I’m not most men.”
“I know you’re not. And this is perfect.” She pushes up on her toes and in the middle of the sidewalk with people milling about, Claire kisses me for all the world to see. “I’ve always loved coming here,” she says, turning around to take it all in.
Stepping up behind her, I set my chin on her shoulder. “Where should we start? Food? Games? Rides?”
“Hmmm.” She taps a finger to her lips. “How about food.”
“Carnival food it is.”
“But not just any carnival food. I want a funnel cake and a lemon shake-up and cotton candy.”
“Sugar high, here we come.” I kiss Claire’s cheek, grab her hand again, and guide her to the closest vendor.
“One funnel cake, a lemon shake-up, and a tub of cotton candy, please.”
The worker smiles and collects my cash. “The funnel cake will be just a minute,” he says, handing me the tub of cotton candy and the lemon shake-up, which I hand to Claire. “Claire Daniels, is that you?”
Claire nudges me out of the way so she can look into the vend
ing cart. Her eyes widen, and if I can tell by the look on her face that if she could throw herself at the man serving us, she would.
“Jerry, it’s so good to see you! How’ve you been? I had no idea you were working down here.”
The older man shrugs and hands her the funnel cake. “I’m good. I started working here a few months back. I’m only here a couple of nights a week, but it gets me out of the house.”
A woman and her son step up behind us.
“It was so good to see you,” Claire says. “Please, tell Joanne I said hello.”
“I will.” He waves at us through the window as we walk away.
I lead Claire to a picnic table off to the side, and we sit down. She digs into the funnel cake with abandon. I spend several minutes just watching her eat. Most women I’ve taken out wouldn’t have dreamed of ordering a funnel cake and cotton candy. They probably would’ve searched for a salad or just starved rather than put that much sugar into their bodies. But that’s one of the things I enjoy about Claire—she doesn’t care. She is who she is, loves the things she loves, and she doesn’t apologize for it.
“This is amazing,” she mumbles around a bite. “I should’ve tipped Jerry.”
“How do you know him?”
“Who, Jerry?”
I nod and steal a bite of her fried dough.
“He was on the fire department with my dad years ago. He and his wife, Joanne, used to come over and play cards.”
“They don’t come over anymore?”
Claire swallows her food and shrugs. “Not really. After Daddy died, everyone came over all the time to check on us, but as the days turned into months, that faded. Everything just sort of changed after his death.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to kill the mood. I was just curious.”
She peels off another chunk of dessert. “Don’t be sorry. I like talking about my dad. No one ever brings him up because they’re afraid it’ll upset me, but it does the opposite. It’s fun to remember those times with him.”
“Well, I’ll have to bring him up more often.”
She smiles. “I hope you do.”
“Did you know he’s the reason I became a firefighter?”
Claire’s eyes widen as she washes her food down with her drink. “I had no idea.”
“Watching him that day—running in and out of the building, worried about nothing other than getting those kids to safety—was truly inspiring. For years after I had dreams about the fire, about how heroic your father was. At first, they started as nightmares, but as I got older, they transformed into something more. During one dream in particular, your father yanked me out of the bushes and told me to help out. That seemed like a pretty good idea to me, so I guess that dream changed my life.”
Claire gets a little teary, and while I wanted her to know about the influence her father had on my career, I also want to keep our date light and fun.
“He would be proud to know that,” she says.
“Thank you.”
“My dad would’ve loved you, Trevor.”
When she finishes off her funnel cake, Claire dumps the paper plate in the trash.
“Come here.”
She leans over the table. “Why are you laughing at me?”
“Because you have powdered sugar all over your face.” I use the napkin to wipe a smudge off. “No idea how you got it on your forehead.”
“I talk with my hands, remember?” She opens her mouth and points to the corner. “You missed a spot.”
Tossing the napkin to the table, I draw her face toward mine and kiss away the white residue.
“Mmm… Sweet,” I say. “I’m not sure your dad would appreciate the thoughts running through my head right now.”
Claire laughs. “You’re probably right.”
I stand up, hold my hand out, and pull her to her feet. “Are you ready for the cotton candy?” I ask, holding out the tub.
“Oh no. I’m saving that for later.”
I tuck the tub under my arm and reach for her shake-up. “Can I have a drink?”
She hands it to me. I take a big sip, and when she reaches for it, I spin around so she can’t get it.
“Hey, give me that.”
She keeps reaching, but I keep moving. By the time she manages to grab her drink, we’ve bumped into three different people, and we’re both laughing uncontrollably.
“I’m so sorry,” she says to a little old lady.
The woman gives us a look and keeps walking.
Eyes wide, Claire turns to me. “I can’t believe you made me plow into an old lady.”
“I didn’t make you do it.”
She narrows her eyes. “Uh-huh. Next time we’re getting you your own.”
I stop next to the ping-pong toss. “You’re thinking about next time?”
Pressing her lips together, Claire fights a grin and nods. “Are you?”
“I’m thinking about the next hundred times.”
A slow smile spreads across her face just as a young boy walks by.
“Hi, Ms. Daniels.”
“Hi, Troy,” she says, but Troy doesn’t stop.
“Can’t talk, Ms. Daniels. I gotta get a stuffed unicorn.”
“Stuffed unicorn?” I mouth.
Claire shrugs, and we turn and watch him step up to High Striker. He hands the carnie a dollar bill, takes the mallet from her hands, and swings with all his might. The rubber end connects with the base, sending a puck into the air, but it falls short of hitting the bell at the top.
“Oooh, so close,” Claire whispers.
Troy tries three more times and fails.
“Here, hold this,” I say.
Claire takes the cotton candy. “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to show this kid how it’s done.”
“Step on up,” the carnie goads. “Do you think you have the strength to ring the bell?”
I dig out my wallet, hand her the money, and take the mallet from Troy. He frowns and takes a step back. With my feet shoulder-width apart, I lift the mallet and bring it down as hard as I can. The small puck launches up the track and slams against the bell at the top.
Bells and whistles sound and lights flash. Claire jumps up and down, cheering for me as I swing the mallet two more times, each time hitting the bell.
“Congratulations,” the carnie says, motioning toward the prize tank. “You can choose any of the prizes in this barrel.”
I sift through the barrel until I come across a stuffed unicorn. It’s purple with lots of glitter and a braided mane. No idea why the kid wants it, but whatever.
“Wow, that was so cool,” Troy says, approaching me. “I wish I could do that. Hey, you’re the firefighter who came to my school the other day, aren’t you?”
“I am.” I bend down until we’re at eye level, and then I hand him the unicorn. “Is this what you were trying to get?”
“Yeah, cool. You’re giving this to me? Don’t you want to give it to Ms. Daniels? I saw you holding her hand earlier.”
I look over my shoulder. Claire is smiling down at us. “Nah,” I say, turning back toward Troy. “I think she’s good. You should keep it.”
“Well,” he says sheepishly, “I was actually going to give it to Maria.”
“Who’s Maria?”
“A girl in my class. She loves unicorns.”
“Then give it to her.”
Troy smiles. “Can I tell her I won it?”
“Sure, buddy.” I stand up and ruffle his hair.
“Thanks.” Troy runs off, and Claire wraps her arms around my shoulders.
“That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Really?” I say, spinning around in her arms.
“Oh yeah. Super sexy.”
“You’re not upset that some chick named Maria is going to get the unicorn I won? Come on, Claire, a little jealousy would be nice,” I tease.
She laughs and kisses me. “I’m totally jealous. Prove your manliness to me
and win me another prize.”
“Excuse me,” a woman behind us says.
I let go of Claire to turn around and see who it is, but I’ve never seen the woman in my life.
“Claire? I didn’t realize that was you.” The woman pulls Claire in for a hug, but Claire remains stiff in the woman’s arms. “I’ve been meaning to stop by the classroom after school. The boys and I got you a little gift, but I keep forgetting to drop it off.”
Claire pulls out of the woman’s embrace. “You didn’t have to get me anything, Amy.”
“But I want to.” The woman looks between me and Claire. “You saved my boys’ lives. It’s the least I could do.”
Oh shit. This must be Troy and Marcus’ mom. I know Claire has felt so much guilt about this woman’s boys. Everything between us has happened so fast, I haven’t had a chance to follow up with her about that night we talked and how she’s doing.
Amy smiles and turns to me. “I just wanted to thank you for giving my son that unicorn. He’s been trying for the last hour to win it, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this excited.”
I wrap an arm around Claire’s waist and pull her against my side. She relaxes in my arms. “You’re welcome. I heard he’s going to give it to Maria.”
Amy rolls her eyes and laughs. “They grow up so fast, don’t they? Well, thank you again, and I’ll see you around, Claire.”
Claire waves, and Amy turns away, only making it a few steps before her twin boys bombard her.
“You know, it’s never too late to talk to her.”
Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, Claire looks up at me. “What would I say?”
“Whatever’s weighing on your heart.” Claire opens her mouth, but I stop her. “And don’t tell me nothing is weighing on your heart, because I can see it, Claire. I told you, your feelings about that night—the guilt—are not something that will just go away. But I firmly believe that if you talk to her about it and get it off your chest, it’ll help you down that road to recovery.”
Claire takes a deep breath and blows it out. She turns and searches the crowd for Amy, who has moved a few more feet away and is standing at the ring toss.
“Road to recovery makes it sound like I’m battling something dark.”
Crazy, Hot Love Page 17
