by Laura Kaye
“Nope. We’re all pretty much long-timers here,” Bob said, gesturing for Caden to follow. “Come on back. He’s here. We had a call earlier, so you got lucky. Otherwise you woulda had to track him down at home.”
As they made their way deeper into the big building, nervousness suddenly flooded through Caden’s veins. The last time he and David Talbot had seen each other, Caden had been a wreck in every sense of the word. If anyone in Caden’s life had seen him at his lowest, at his worst, at his most vulnerable, it was Talbot. Caden was so unprepared for the possibility of ever meeting this man—this man who represented such a positive force in Caden’s life—that he wasn’t sure what he was going to say.
Bob led them into the firehouse’s dining room where eight men were sitting around the table talking and laughing, empty plates sitting in front of them. “Everyone,” Bob said, “this is Caden Grayson. He’s E.M.S. over in Arlington County, Virginia.” A round of greetings rose up, and Caden gave a wave. “He came to see you, Dave.”
Caden’s gaze did a fast scan around the table, but he couldn’t immediately identify Talbot. And then the man at the far end of the table turned to look at him, and Caden was suddenly sucked fourteen years into the past. When a man with a friendly face and a calming voice had put a traumatized fourteen-year-old kid at ease and saved his life.
“Me, huh?” Talbot said, rising and coming over to Caden. He extended a hand. “Dave Talbot. What can I do for you?”
Caden returned the shake, the oddest sense of déjà vu washing over him. “Well, Mr. Talbot, it’s about what you’ve already done for me. Fourteen years ago, you were the first on the scene of a single-vehicle accident. And you saved my life.”
What Caden needed to say was profoundly obvious, and he didn’t even feel awkward about saying it in front of the other men who were all blatantly curious about what was going on.
“I know a long time has passed, but I need to say thank you. And I need to tell you that what you did for me that day made me want to help people, too. It’s why I went E.M.S. I know we don’t always get to know what happens to someone after we transport them to the hospital, so we don’t get to know the impact we might’ve had. I wanted you to know that yours was huge. And I appreciate the hell out of it every day.” Bone-deep satisfaction settled into Caden’s bones at getting to pay respect to this man after all this time.
You could’ve heard a pin drop in that room.
Dave was visibly moved by Caden’s words. The older man studied Caden’s face then looked at the scar that jagged along the side of his head. “Well, I’ll be damned,” Dave said, his voice strained. “Overturned station wagon?” he said, almost as if thinking out loud.
“Yeah,” Caden said, a lump lodging in his throat.
“I remember you,” Dave said, clasping Caden’s arm. “It’s a real pleasure to see you, son.” He shook his head and cleared his throat, emotion plain on his face. “This is a helluva thing right now. Damn.”
“I remember that call,” another of the men said, coming around the table to join them. “Some of them stick with you, especially when there are kids involved, and that was one for me.” The man extended a hand. “Frank Roberts. I was real sorry for what you went through.”
“Frank,” Caden said, returning the shake. “Thank you. That means a lot.”
“I was on that one, too, said a white-haired man sitting at the table. Damn impressed that you’re in this line of work after that accident. A lot of people wouldn’t be able to do that. Wallace Hart, by the way,” he said, giving a little wave.
Caden nodded, just about as gobsmacked as he could be that these men were not only still here but actually remembered him, too. Remembered what had happened. His father had never been willing to discuss the accident. Hell, his father had barely talked to Caden beyond that which was strictly required for basic life logistics, so to find people after all this time who’d been there, who knew what’d happened, who’d known Caden then. Dave was right. That was a helluva thing.
“You have time to sit?” Dave asked. “I could grab you a cup of coffee. And we have pie.”
A little overcome by their reaction to him, Caden nodded. “Does anyone say no to pie?”
“Not if they’re in their right fucking mind,” Frank said to a round of laughter.
Some of the men cleared out, leaving Caden, Dave, Frank, and Wallace at the table. The other three men all had a good twenty or more years on Caden, which maybe explained why they talked to and looked at him in almost a fatherly way. They asked about the aftermath of the accident, about what he’d done after school, about his training and station, and about his personal life—whether he had a family of his own.
“Not yet,” Caden said, finishing the last bite of his apple pie. “Truth be told, I had someone, but I messed it up. I’ve struggled with PTSD and anxiety ever since the accident, and I let it get the best of me. I’ve been working on how to make it right. How to make myself right. I guess that’s what led me here.” It felt right to be honest with them. And, frankly, he was in the middle of a more meaningful conversation about his life than any he’d ever had with his own old man.
Sitting next to him, Dave nailed Caden with a stare. “Let me tell you something, Caden.” He paused for a long moment. “We talked about you around here. Those of us on that call, we were all affected by what we encountered out there that morning, and we talked about it more than once. I’ll tell you straight, every single one of us was surprised as hell that you survived that accident. Your father, too, though the rear section of the car was in the worst shape. I can still picture how flattened it was. Like it had gone through a compactor.” The other men nodded. “Whatever difficulties you’ve faced, I imagine you came by them honestly after that. But you need to know that you surviving, that was a miracle to my mind.”
“Yeah,” Frank said. “You were damn lucky.” Wallace nodded.
Lucky.
For so long, Caden hadn’t believed such a thing existed, not for him. And here these men all agreed that’s what he’d been. Had he been looking at it wrong all these years?
Emotion clogged Caden’s throat and momentarily stole his ability to speak. He nodded. “I appreciate that because…because sometimes I’ve had to ask myself why I survived when my mother and brother didn’t.” He shook his head.
“It’s the wrong question,” Dave said. “A better one is, what happened because you survived? And I’ll tell you. Because you survived, you went on to become a paramedic. And what you did today for me, by coming in here and telling me what my help meant to you? There are people out there who feel the same way about you. You may never meet them—hell, you probably won’t, that’s the nature of the thing—but they’re out there for you just like you were for me. And I want to thank you for that, for what you said. Because this job makes you confront a lot of hard things and it takes you away from your family at all hours and it puts you in harm’s way, so it’s good to know that what I do—what we all do,” he said, gesturing at all of them seated there, “matters.”
“Amen to that,” Wallace said, raising his coffee cup and taking a swig.
As Dave’s words sank in, Caden felt a little like he’d walked cartoon-like into a pole he hadn’t seen coming. The idea that Caden might matter to someone as much as Dave did to Caden, the idea that what Caden did for his patients might impact them the same way Dave’s care had impacted Caden all those years ago…it was fucking revelatory.
His scalp prickled and his heart raced. All these years that Caden had wasted feeling worthless and guilty, wondering what the point of his surviving had been, he’d always thought of his work as paying a debt he owed. And there was truth in that. But there was truth in what Dave said, too.
What Caden did mattered to a lot of people.
Which meant that he mattered, whether he felt it or not.
Damn. Damn.
That idea parked itself on Caden’s chest like a thirty-ton ladder truck. That shit wasn’t going a
nywhere.
It was like sunlight breaking through heavy black clouds, the golden rays streaming in and touching everything in their paths. Illuminating things that had been dark for so long. Shedding light on things long forgotten. It was a lightness of being that Caden couldn’t ever remember feeling before. Soul-healing relief rushed in behind the light, along with the unimaginable—forgiveness.
And not just for himself.
Had Caden’s father ever had anyone to talk to about the accident? Because if Caden felt guilt just for surviving, what must his father have felt for being the one behind the wheel?
The question was another eye-opener, one that had his heart letting go of some of the anger Caden had carried for over half of his life. And more of that light streamed in.
Before long, he was exchanging contact information with Dave and the others and saying his good-byes. And Caden felt like he’d finally figured out Dr. Ward’s advice. Because an hour with the men who’d saved his life had done more to give him closure on the accident than anything else in the past fourteen years.
“Hey, Caden,” Dave called as Caden was heading out of the bay.
Caden turned. “Yeah?”
Dave gave him a serious look. “If I’ve learned anything, it’s that little matters more than family and love. Do whatever you have to do to win back that girl.”
“I’m going to do everything I can,” Caden said.
And after today, he finally felt like he might be ready.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Makenna left her four-month check-up and knew the time had come—she had to tell Caden about the baby. The ultrasound appointment was in two weeks, and there was no reason to keep putting the conversation off, except that she was nervous as hell about doing it.
Driving through the early evening darkness, Makenna made her way to Caden’s house. This conversation couldn’t happen by phone or text or email. She had to do it face to face—not just because it was the right way to go about it, but because she needed to see Caden. To see how he was. To see how he reacted to the news. She just needed to see him.
Because Caden Grayson was an ache inside her that wouldn’t go away.
She pulled into his cul-de-sac to find his house dark and his parking place empty. Echoing the trip she’d made over a month ago, she drove to the little firehouse on the other side of Fairlington—but this time she found his Jeep.
He’d gone back to work.
Makenna’s chest swelled with emotion. If he’d gone back, that must mean he was okay, and that made her happy. But the fact that he’d gone back to work—but not come back to her—really must mean that whatever sliver of hope she’d been holding out for them was completely pointless.
If he was going to come back, he’d have done it.
At least, now she knew.
Anyway, that’s not what telling him about the baby was about. More than that, she didn’t want Caden back if the baby was the only reason he wanted to be in her life. So. Fine.
As she parked her car along the curb, the clock on the dash said that it was nearly 5:30. His shift probably ended at seven tonight or seven tomorrow morning, depending on the schedule—the firehouse had an overlapping shift system to ensure they were always staffed and could give the guys adequate days off after working twenty-four hours at a time. Which meant she could either go in there and talk to him. Or she could wait.
After waiting two months, she would’ve thought the idea of a few more hours would’ve been nothing. But knowing Caden was just across the street in that building—so close—after all this time apart nearly had Makenna crawling out of her skin.
She’d given him time and space. Just like he’d asked. Now she was done with that. This baby was coming whether either of them was ready or not.
Without letting herself overthink it any further, Makenna shut off the car and got out. Flurries whirled around her, and she ducked her head against the freezing wind and zipped her thick coat up to her neck.
On a nice day, the guys often had the doors to the bays open, their trucks on display. But those doors were closed up tight against this weather, so Makenna headed to the office door on the side. Belly going for a loop-the-loop, she let herself into the reception area, setting off a buzzer. No one stood behind the counter.
After a few seconds, a young guy she didn’t know came in from the back. “Can I help you?”
“Hi,” she said. “Is Caden Grayson here?”
“Grayson? Yeah.” He gave her an appraising look that rushed heat into her cheeks. “I’ll get him.
The guy disappeared into the hallway beyond. “Grayson!” he yelled, making Makenna’s cheeks burn a little hotter. “Visitor.”
Makenna stuffed her hands in her pockets and blew out a shaky breath.
An exchange of words down the hall caught her ear—because she heard Caden’s voice. Hearing it was a relief and a heartache. She braced in anticipation of seeing him walk through the door.
And then he did.
Be strong, Makenna.
“Hi,” she said, drinking him in with her eyes. He looked…so fucking good. Gorgeous, as always, with that strong jaw and that masculine face and those broad shoulders. He was a little thinner, but the dark circles were nearly gone from beneath his eyes and everything about him seemed…lighter somehow. Like he stood taller, moved easier.
“Makenna, what are you doing here? Are you okay?” he asked, coming around the counter to her. He stopped an arm’s length away.
“I’m sorry to bother you at work, but I—”
“No, I’m sorry.” He rubbed his hand over the scar on his head. “I didn’t mean it that way. Just surprised, is all.”
“I know. I was hoping we could talk for a minute. It shouldn’t take long,” she said. Well, actually, it was going to take the next eighteen years, at least. But what needed to happen just then shouldn’t take long.
“Uh, yeah. Yeah, of course,” he said. “Come inside with me?”
Her heart squeezed as a little voice inside her said, I’d follow you anywhere, Caden. Don’t you know that? But all she said was, “Sure.”
She followed him around the counter, a ridiculous little thrill fluttering through her when their arms brushed as they walked down the white cinder-block hall.
For some reason, that sensation made her think of the first time she ever touched him. That night they were trapped in the elevator. After maybe two hours, they’d both gotten hungry and shared two snacks and a bottle of water that Makenna had in her bag. Because they couldn’t see one another to hand off the water, they’d slid it back and forth across the floor until they encountered the other person’s hand. By then, she’d already learned just how much they had in common and become intrigued by Caden, and those little touches from a man she’d talked to but never seen had been thrilling.
Walking beside Caden after so long apart, that night seemed like it’d happened a million years before.
Laughter and trash talk spilled out of a room off to the left. Having been to the station before, Makenna knew it was the kitchen and dining room. A quick peek in as they passed it revealed that the table was full, and all the guys had plates of food in front of them. She caught Bear’s eye as she and Caden walked by.
“I’m sorry I interrupted your dinner,” she said, peering up at Caden.
“Don’t be,” he said in a quiet voice.
At the end of the hall, they turned to the right. “Let’s, uh, let’s go in here,” he said, pushing a door open for her. He flicked on the light, revealing two rows of bunk beds along the walls, all neatly made.
The door shut, closing them in together.
Makenna’s heart tripped into a sprint.
Caden’s gaze raked over her and finally settled on her face, his eyes filled with an intensity she didn’t understand. “You look really great, Makenna.”
“Uh, thanks,” she said, the compliment catching her off guard. “You look good, too. Better.” Better than before, she thought, but s
he didn’t want to get caught up in talking about the past when what she needed to discuss with him was the future. “So—”
“Did you have a good Christmas?” he asked, stepping a little closer.
She tilted her head, trying to read him. “Um. Sure. I went home to Philly. It was…it was nice.”
On top of the awkwardness, an odd tension filled the space between them, like they were magnets that didn’t know whether they were supposed to attract or repel.
Because the attraction was definitely there—at least for her. Her body was hyperaware of his. How much taller than her he was. How close he stood. How broad his chest was. How his hands fisted and his jaw ticked.
He reached out and fingered the end of her hair, then seemed to think better of it and pulled his hand away. “Your hair’s gotten longer.”
The fleeting touch had Makenna’s heart pounding in her chest. Desire and yearning roared through her, and she didn’t know whether to be annoyed at herself for responding that way or climb him. Or both.
“Yeah,” she managed. “I just haven’t gotten around to it.” She shrugged, because why they were talking about her hair, she wasn’t sure. “Look, Caden,” she said, wanting to take control of things. “I need to—”
Dooodo, dooodo, dooodo
The tones of the station alerting system sounded loudly in the small space and blue and red lights on the ceiling started flashing—the color combination communicated that they had a fire and medical call. Caden had taught her that the first time she’d visited there. The dispatcher’s voice spilled from a speaker in the ceiling with the details of the call.
“Shit,” Caden said, his face going serious but his eyes filled with something that looked a lot like disappointment. “I’m really sorry, but I gotta go.”
Makenna’s stomach fell. “I know,” she said. “Duty calls.”
“I’d rather stay and talk to you,” he said, stepping closer, so close that she could’ve leaned forward and his chest would’ve easily cushioned her weight. “I don’t know how long I’ll be. This day has been a bear, and the freezing rain we’re supposed to get tonight probably means more of the same,” he rushed out.
