by Lisa Lace
There were hours to go, but I wanted to be prepared. Once dinner was in the oven, it was time to throw open my wardrobe doors and decide what to wear. It was a terrible decision. I wanted to look good, but I still wasn’t sure what this evening was about. It had to be something casual and low-key.
As I was looking at my clothes, I noticed an unopened letter from my sister on the bedside table. I sat on the edge of the bed and took out the letter.
Dear Jenna,
We’re still missing you. I don’t understand why I can’t come and visit. I haven’t seen Victor in a while. I think things might have blown over. Won’t you come home? Please think about it, Jenna — your life is here.
I stopped reading and folded the letter back into its envelope. Usually, Charlotte’s letters filled me with sadness and a longing to go home, but in the last few days, my feelings had changed, and I no longer wanted to ever go back to Pennsylvania.
I wanted to stay here, in this tiny little town where people were kind and knew me by name. I wanted to stay in a wonderful little apartment with my friend down the hall. I wanted to work in a job I loved, drink coffee with Carla, and walk past that fire station every day.
I wanted more chances to see Nate, to get to know him, for him to get to know me. I just wanted a life that moved and was going somewhere. I knew that was never going to happen in Pennsylvania.
Sorry Charlotte, I’m already home.
Chapter Seven
Nate
I arrived at Jenna’s apartment and stood outside the door. I had dressed up for the occasion. I thought about keeping everything low-key and wearing my favorite tee and some sneakers, but I wanted to look good for Jenna. I didn’t really know what her invite was about. Was it a date, or was she simply being kind? Maybe looking good would let her know what my hopes were.
It was hard to know my own intentions. I wanted to take her out on a date. I wanted to take her out and show her a good time, then bring her home and show her a better one. It had been a long time since I’d chased a woman. Not since Marie.
Her memory stung a little. Marie had been the one to get me to quit playing the field and make me a one-woman man. Before Marie, I had my pick of women, and I loved to choose. I’d been a handsome, athletic teen with the added bonus of being a star football player.
Then I’d gotten a little older and even more handsome. My boyish features chiseled out into the profile of a man. All my soft edges became defined. I started working toward a career in the fire department, and the girls loved a man in uniform. Finding women had been easy. Taking them to bed was even easier.
Then came Marie.
I’d been dating another girl when I first laid eyes on her. My girlfriend was someone I’d met through a friend. As I remember her, she was a bit of a wild one who loved to party, and whose eyes wandered as much as mine. I guess you could say it had been a bit of a fling from the start. I’d gone to a party with this girl one night, and Marie had been there.
Straight away, I knew Marie was special. She was elegant, graceful, and mature. She’d been the same age as the rest of us, but stood out like the only woman in a room full of girls. I’d wanted her then, but even though I was a player, I’d never cheat on a girl. So, I just smiled at Marie from across the room, and she’d smiled back. We stayed away from one another all night.
A couple of weeks later, me and the party girl were done. I was back playing the field and ready to jump into another misadventure. One night in the grocery store, I spotted her, the mysterious stranger who’d caught my eye at the party. That girl who seemed like a woman, with shoulder-length blonde hair and a killer smile.
I wasted no time introducing myself and asking her out. The rest was history. My relationship with Marie had been the first one I’d ever taken seriously. My eyes never wandered. The fact that I couldn’t get her off my mind, coupled with the knowledge she outshone every other woman around made me certain we would last. And we did. We lasted right until the very end.
Jenna wasn’t like Marie. Jenna was calm and reserved, whereas Marie had held a presence that made people look up when she entered a room. She had a laugh that carried and turned heads. Jenna was more self-aware; she carried herself with caution and measured her words. Yet the one thing that Marie and Jenna had in common was that they had both got me fixated. They ignited a spark of desire from day one that kept burning inside me.
After Marie, I thought all my sparks had died out. But here was one more. I hadn’t expected to be drawn to another woman again, but it happened, and this mattered to me.
I knocked on the door.
Jenna answered. She was wearing a little makeup. Just enough to make her lashes frame her eyes to draw me in. Just enough to make her lips call out to be tasted.
She was dressed in skin-tight light denim jeans and an elbow-length dusty pink wrap top. It was the perfect color for her. Her pale skin seemed soft. Her blouse was made of a silky material that clung to her skin and framed her figure as she moved.
She had the perfect silhouette.
“I brought some wine.” I handed her the bottle as I stepped over the threshold and leaned in, greeting her with a kiss on the cheek. The scent of fresh jasmine perfume hung around her neck.
“Thank you, Nate! That’s sweet. Come on in.” Jenna beckoned me into the apartment and started heading into the kitchen to refrigerate the wine. “I’m just finishing dinner. I hope chicken is okay.”
Jenna’s apartment was like her; understated, but filled with hints of bright ambition. She had two bookshelves against the back wall filled with books. Some were textbooks; others, novels. Dozens of novels.
Her sofa was covered in large cushions in a brown-and-rust colored Aztec print. Her curtains were the same shade of brown. The room might have seemed dim if not for the huge waxy-leaf plant in an ornate vase in one corner, and a giant mirror on one wall that threw light back into the room, bringing a little life into the place.
“Nice place!”
“Thanks!” Jenna reappeared at the doorway of the kitchen. “You don’t have to stand out there, Nate. You can come into the kitchen if you like. Or make yourself at home out there. It’s up to you.”
I smiled and headed her way. The food smelled great, but the kitchen looked immaculate. I couldn’t see any evidence of Jenna’s preparation. “Wow, you’re a tidy cook.”
She laughed lightly. “I get that from years of my mother telling me I better clean that mess!”
“Do you like to cook?”
Jenna looked up at me from under those heavy lashes and smiled. “I don’t mind. You?”
“I’m an apprentice chef.”
She laughed lightly. “Oh really?”
“I am. Harriet and I are on a vegetable mission. It’s all about the broccoli.”
“Broccoli, hey? Great choice. Very nutritious.”
I chuckled. “I’m not a great cook, but I’m trying to learn. I want Harriet to grow up healthy.”
“Well, if you ever need lessons, I’m happy to help.”
A smile crept onto my lips. Was that another invitation?
“What’s on the menu tonight?”
“Chicken, roasted potatoes, and some mint asparagus concoction that came in a bag.”
“Ah, so that’s your secret.” I winked at her. “I’m also a fan of food that comes in a bag.”
“I’ll have you know that I could have put the mint on myself if I’d wanted. I’m just being efficient.” She opened the oven door and knelt to pull out the chicken. “And it’s ready! Let me put everything onto plates, and we’re ready to go. Do you want to pour the wine?”
“Sure. Where are the glasses?”
“Top right cabinet.”
I poured the wine, and Jenna served the food. I still wasn’t sure if this was meant to be a date or not, but I liked it. It was nice to be in the company of a woman for a change, and a gorgeous woman at that. I couldn’t keep my eyes off her as she moved around the kitchen. Her slim waist, her long
legs, her perfect ass in those tight jeans…
Jenna had a small table in the living room where we ate. It was by the window overlooking the street outside.
“It’s quiet here,” I said.
“It is. I kind of like it though. It’s peaceful.”
“You must be joking. With Carla down the hall?”
Jenna laughed. She had a wonderful laugh. It was soft, feminine, and warm. “She’s surprisingly quiet. I’d hate to be the connecting apartment, though. From what she says, she and Sam only ever get up to one thing at her place, and it involves a lot of banging.”
“Sam’s more of a gentleman than she is, then. He doesn’t kiss and tell.”
“Carla said he’s polite. I think that’s lovely. I hate locker talk.” She made a face. “It’s icky.”
“Icky?” I teased.
“What’s wrong with ‘icky’?”
I laughed. “Nothing. I can just tell you’re a preschool teacher, that’s all.”
“Not quite yet. But I will be.”
“I think that’s great. It’s a wonderful profession.”
“Speaking of professions — how are you doing, Nate?” Jenna reached across and placed a hand on my arm again. Her hands were soft and warm. She looked across at me with concerned eyes.
“I’m all right, Jenna. As I said, it’s part of the job.”
“I thought you might need someone to talk to.”
“What can you say after something like that? I’ve found it’s best just to keep your head down and keep going. If you lose momentum for even a moment, you might give up and stop.”
“Do you really think so?”
“That’s what I’ve found.”
“It seems so… I don’t know. I think my life would change if I had to deal with things like that.”
“You find ways.” Marie’s face flashed across my mind again, and I thought about how hard it had been when I first lost her. “When my wife passed away, everyone kept telling me to take some time to grieve. I tried, I really did. But grieving wasn’t something I knew how to do. I’m not the kind of man who dwells on grief. I push through it.” I shrugged. “That applies to my job, too, I suppose.”
“You’re very brave.”
I held up my hand to ward off her compliments. “It’s not bravery. It’s necessity. If I couldn’t get over losing someone I’d tried to save, I’d be awful at my job. You don’t always win. But, you’ve got to move past the bad days because next time you might get lucky. Over time, I hope I save more than I lose.”
“Even if you only rescue one person, you’ve done more than most of us will ever do.”
“It feels good when you get to save someone, but it doesn’t take away the feeling of failure when you don’t.” I finished my glass of wine and set it back on the table, leaning back in my chair. The wine made me feel thoughtful. “My job was the only thing that kept me going after I lost Marie.”
Jenna didn’t say anything, but she leaned in closer, listening.
“I lost her three years ago.”
“Can I ask about it?”
“Do you mean how she died?” I leaned forward on the table. “Marie had cystic fibrosis. It affects the lungs. Eventually she needed a lung transplant. She was on the waiting list but never got a donor in time. Like I said, you don’t always win. Sometimes things don’t happen in time. Like today.”
“I can’t imagine how you cope.”
“The job helps. After losing Marie, I’m not going to lie, I was struggling. I missed her like crazy, and I felt like I let her down. She was my wife, and I didn’t have the power to cure her. If I could, I would have given her the lungs out of my chest to keep her breathing. But, it was her time, and we lost her. Eventually, I went back to work, but I was like a zombie at the time, and just going through the motions of life until the first rescue. A little girl had fallen off a cliff by a reservoir. Her family couldn’t reach her. We arrived, used our equipment, and brought her up. She was in critical condition, but she survived. When I heard she had made it, it was the first time I smiled since Marie died. Knowing that today might be a day when I save someone is what has kept me getting up and moving each day. It gave me a reason to keep going. I couldn’t help Marie, but there were others.”
“What an incredible thing to be able to do. I’m sure Marie would be overjoyed. Were you married a long time?”
“Only a year. Engaged for two, together for six before that.”
Jenna shook her head sadly. “No one should have to go through what you did.”
“I’ve come to terms with it now. Life goes on.” I smiled. “That’s what my sister always tells me.”
“Your sister. I think I’ve met her. Kacey, is it? She’s picked up Harriet once or twice.”
“That’s her. She’s a qualified counselor, you know. She runs a support group for women survivors of domestic violence.”
“Really?” Jenna’s eyes opened wide, and she leaned toward me. “Is it a cause she’s passionate about?”
“She’s a survivor herself.”
“Wow. So, everyone in your family fights the good fight?”
I laughed. “We try.” I fixed my gaze on Jenna and sighed. “You know, I don’t usually dump my heart out like this. Sorry. It’s a lot from a stranger.”
“I don’t think of us as strangers. Not anymore.”
“No?”
She shook her head. “Of course not.”
Her eyes locked with mine, and I felt all the air leave my body as I held her gaze. She had beautiful, warm eyes and she looked at me in a moment that seemed to last for a lifetime. I sensed every breath I took. Jenna’s breaths seemed to be coming faster. Mine, too.
There was that spark again.
Chapter Eight
Jenna
Sitting at the table, looking across at Nate, I felt moved by his story. He was careful not to let much show, but beneath his stoic persona, I could sense the hint of a loss.
I admired him, both how he spoke about his job and his commitment to people he didn’t even know.
I had been sitting across from him, but I pulled my seat over to be at his side. I saw a flicker of intrigue cross his face. He laid his hand out on the table, palm up. I wondered if he was inviting me to put my hand on top of his, or whether he was changing the position of his arm. I imagined his warm, strong fingers closing around mine.
“It’s been nice talking to you tonight, Nate. I’ve needed a night like this.”
Nate nodded. “Me, too.”
His eyes caught mine, and he smiled. The spark I felt when he looked at me made me lift my hand from my knee, ready to risk grabbing his.
As soon as I began to raise it from my lap to reach for him, Nate stood and began to clear the table.
I swallowed back the disappointment and began to help him clear away the dishes. As we tidied together, I watched Nate carefully, trying to figure out how to read him. I tried to catch any sign of insincerity or ego in him. I couldn’t find any.
I remembered conversations with Victor about what he did in the line of duty. They had never increased my respect for him. Then again, Victor had always been callous about the crime victims he was supposed to serve and protect. All the women were damsels in distress, just waiting to be saved. All the criminals he took down simply cowered at his shadow. Victor was Mr. Cop Almighty, and none were worthy of his glory.
When Nate spoke, he wasn’t trying to impress me. At least, I didn’t think he was. I felt like he was sincere when he described how the loss of his wife had driven him, and continued to propel him, to rescue others. I believed him when he said he never forgot the people he hadn’t reached in time. It didn’t feel like the heroism in Nate was only skin-deep.
“Shall we move to the sofa?”
We’d finished clearing the table and were standing in the middle of the kitchen. Nate’s suggestion to move to the sofa made my skin tingle in anticipation, and I felt a flush rising up from my chest.
I tried
to keep my desire out of my expression and smiled. “Sure.”
It had grown darker outside while we’d been talking, and the room was dimmer than it had been when Nate first arrived. I could have made the decision to get up and turn on the lights, but I liked the way the darkness held us. The darkness allowed me to admire Nate without being caught.
He was incredibly handsome. He wore a blue button-down shirt that matched the color of his eyes. I was more used to seeing him in his firefighter gear or a white T-shirt, so it was something new to see him dressed up.
I wondered if he had made an effort for me.
“More wine?”
“Sure.”
“Wait a second. We’ve emptied the bottle already.”
I placed the empty bottle back down on the coffee table and sat back with my glass in my hand. I took another sip and felt my head start swimming. When I let my eyes linger on Nate’s strong, broad chest, I could hardly think straight.
“I don’t drink very often these days,” Nate told me. “Not when I’m looking after Harriet on my own.”
“I’m glad tonight you can let your hair down.”
“Me, too.”
He was perfection. Nate didn’t seem to have any vices or faults. He was a wonderful father, both responsible and committed. Harriet adored him. I always knew when it was a “Daddy day” and Nate would be picking her up after school. She’d talk about it all day. Me and Daddy are gonna cook s'ghetti. Me and Daddy are gonna go to the park.
Nate sincerely cared about people, too. He seemed to admire his sister, and he cherished his daughter. He’d stood by a dying wife. But his compassion went further than that. Nate was the sort of person who would save anybody.
He shifted a little on the sofa. He was sitting so close to me now that I could feel the heat of his skin on my own. My heart gave a little flutter. It was half lust and half fear. At that moment, I believed Nate was everything he appeared to be, but I’d been fooled by a man playing the hero before. I crossed one leg over the other, moving my thigh further from his reach, and looked away as I took another sip of wine.
