by Kim Loraine
“You mean to tell me that you and this girl ran off and got married just because?” His dad’s voice wasn’t sad. He was angry. “Is there anything else we need to know? Was there a particular reason this needed to be done quickly?”
Lena sucked in a sharp breath. “If you’re implying that I’m pregnant you’d be mistaken. We got married because we want to be together. I love him.”
Michael stared at her, pride filling his chest. They hadn’t really talked about why they’d gotten married. It truly had just happened.
“But . . . where did you get married?” his mom asked.
“Vegas.” He tried to keep his voice controlled.
“Please don’t tell me Elvis married you. Was it a priest at least?”
He couldn’t hide his smile. “No. No Elvis. It was a justice of the peace. Lena’s not Catholic.”
“Oh, honey.”
Her eyes were sad. The look in them stabbed at his heart. He hadn’t meant to hurt his mom, but this wasn’t about her. It was about him and Lena and their life together. He’d almost done the big Catholic wedding once before. He had zero interest in doing that again. Glancing across the table, he saw Ryoko staring down at her plate, avoiding eye contact with everyone.
Shit. This was not going well.
“Can you just be happy for me? Please?” he asked.
He watched as his dad wrapped an arm around his mom and whispered something in her ear. A softness fell over her features, almost a look of resignation.
“I am, sweetie. I’m just sad I missed it.”
That was as good as he was going to get. His dad didn’t say a word until the bill came and even then it was just a curt goodbye as they got up to leave.
“God, I didn’t think it would be so bad,” Lena said as they walked her mom to her car.
“It is disrespectful, Lena-chan. Marriage is not something to be taken so lightly. Families should be invited to celebrate love. It shouldn’t be hidden.”
Lena fell silent.
While Ryoko had been quiet after the announcement, Michael hadn’t thought she would be offended. Guilt hit him full force for a second time that evening.
“I’m sorry for disrespecting you.” He hoped his sincerity was clear in his words as he opened the door for her.
Turning up her softly lined face to see him, she smiled. “I know. Make it up to me by loving my Lena. Treat her the way she deserves to be treated. Don’t make her regret letting you over her walls.”
Nodding, he closed the door and stepped away from the car, taking Lena’s hand.
“You riding with me?”
She waved at her mom as the car pulled away. “Looks like it.”
He wrapped her in his arms, needing to feel her against him. “It’s not as bad as you think.”
“Really? Your dad thought you must’ve knocked me up and your mom is horrified you married a heathen.”
Unable to contain his laughter, he dropped his head to the top of her shoulder. “I’m surprised you didn’t burst into flames when she looked at you.”
“I’m glad you didn’t tell her our officiant was dressed in drag.” She chuckled in his arms.
“Ha! She would’ve needed me to resuscitate her on the spot.”
Pulling her even tighter to him, he kissed her long and deep. The hard part was over. Now they could start their life together.
Chapter 12
Michael chuckled as another dirty text from Lena appeared on his phone. He’d been on duty less than six hours and she’d practically blown up his cell with all of the naughty things she wanted to do when he got home. This latest message sent all the blood straight from his brain to his crotch. Two months in and married life was working out just fine. Glancing at the clock, he scowled. Time seemed to move slower when he was away from her.
The alarm blared through the firehouse, startling him back to the reality of his job. “Engine. Ambulance. Vehicle fire. Multiple injuries.”
“Son-of-a-bitch,” he muttered, willing his erection to subside as the firehouse came to life.
“Lieutenant, you coming?” Klipper called.
“Yeah.” Shifting gears, he shoved his phone in his locker and rushed to the truck, donning his bunker gear with the smooth motions of years of practice.
By the time they arrived on scene, the car was totally engulfed in flames. Bystanders waved the ambulance crew over to where the injured had been pulled to safety. The smell of burning rubber hit him as soon as Sully parked the engine. Thick, black smoke invaded the surroundings as tires melted and electronics burned. Scenarios ran through his head as he assessed the scene. The car had clearly run off the road and slammed into the trees, leaving mangled remains of the vehicle wrapped around the scarred wood, flames already licking at the bark.
“Klipper, Sully, we’ve got toxic fumes. Mask up and get your air on. We need to get this contained before it spreads and becomes more than a car fire.”
The two men on his crew were already sliding off their helmets as he spoke. They knew instinctively what needed to happen. Although only minutes had passed since they’d arrived on site, every second that ticked by felt like an eternity as he pulled his SCBA gear on and connected the air valve. Before long, they’d attacked the flames and beat them into submission. The smoldering husk of metal that had once been a classic car sat dripping and stinking, but no longer held any threat.
Standing in the stillness, everyone safe, the fire gone, he was reminded of why he loved his job. John used to say it was the thrill of it, running toward danger rather than away. He and his brother had always been so different. Even now, years after John’s death, it felt like the crew was missing a vital organ. If Michael was the brain, John had been the heart.
“Lieutenant? We good?” Sully stood next to him, arms crossed, mouth turned down in a frown.
Michael shook away the memories of his brother and brought himself back to the present. John was gone. No amount of wishing would bring him back.
“Yeah, let’s pack it up and get back to the station. Any word on the victims? They make it okay?”
Klipper shook his head. “Driver made it. Passenger wasn’t wearing his seatbelt. He was only fifteen. Poor kids. Brooks worked on him as long as she could for his brother’s sake, but she said he was gone before we got here.”
Michael’s heart sank at the look on Klip’s face. The guy could be a grade-A douche sometimes, but not when it counted. Any time they lost someone, Klip took it harder than the rest of them. Clapping a hand on Klipper’s shoulder, Michael gave it a squeeze. “We know the family?”
“No. They’re not local. Probably out for a joyride in Dad’s baby.”
Michael’s chest tightened as flashes of he and John doing the exact same thing invaded his head. They’d snagged the keys to their father’s precious Corvette countless times over the years. As soon as Michael was able to drive, and a few times before he’d been technically legal, their adventures ended with burned rubber prayers that their dad wouldn’t check the odometer.
“It’s a damn shame. That boy will never forgive himself.” Clearing his throat, he pulled himself into his seat as Klipper started the engine.
The ride back to the station was somber. Tinged with the anxiety that accompanied any incident resulting in a fatality. They’d be on edge for the rest of the shift, everyone hoping they could make up for the loss on their next time out. He knew it didn’t work like that. There wasn’t a way to wipe the slate clean. Every experience stayed with him, buried behind the walls he had to put up to stay sane.
By the time his shift ended he’d been on two more calls and finished piles of paperwork. Both incidents ended in tragedy, and both could have been prevented. All he wanted to do was crawl into bed beside Lena and breathe in the soft flowery scent of her hair as he
held her close. He hadn’t worked a shift this terrible in a long time. He needed something beautiful to take the place of all the ugly he’d seen in the last twenty-four hours.
The sound of a door opening and shutting broke through Lena’s deep slumber, pulling her from her dreams. She’d spent the night unable to settle, working instead. The soft gray light of dawn had begun to spill through her window before she’d finally fallen into bed and let sleep claim her. Limbs heavy, she stretched as she rose, pulling on her robe, hoping it was her husband making noise in the house. A series of thuds followed by another door closing confirmed her suspicion.
A thrill ran through her at the thought of seeing him, rumpled and ragged. His face sporting the five o’clock shadow she loved so much. Typically, when he came home after a shift, he’d putter around the kitchen, making coffee and breakfast. As she padded down the hall, she nearly tripped over his boots, tossed haphazardly in the middle of the walkway.
“Michael?” She listened for the familiar sounds of his morning routine.
The kitchen was empty and had she not seen his shoes, she’d have thought the sounds she’d heard had all been in her head. Circling around the kitchen island, she made her way toward the front of the house. The door to the guest bathroom was closed, light coming from beneath. She could hear the shower going full blast. Why wasn’t he using the bathroom in their room? Knocking, she waited a moment before trying the handle.
“Michael?” Peeking around the corner as she came into the room, her mouth ran dry when she caught sight of him.
He didn’t hear her. That much was clear as she watched him stand under the water. His hands were braced on the shower wall, head hanging down as the spray beat on the back of his neck. Something was wrong. His eyes were pinched tightly shut as if he were in pain, and the muscles in his arms flexed with the tension he carried.
Not wanting to startle him, she tapped softly on the glass door, hoping he’d hear her. His eyes opened and the look he gave her sent her heart plummeting to the ground.
“What’s happened?” she asked, sliding the door open.
He shook his head. “Bad night. I just . . . I needed to wash it away.”
He’d never come home like this before. She knew firefighters saw awful things, but had never experienced the aftermath of a rough shift firsthand. The broken sound of his voice cut her. Slipping her robe off her shoulders, she stepped into the shower with him and took his face in her hands.
“Let me help you,” she murmured, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.
His arms wrapped around her, crushing her to him as he deepened the kiss and changed it from something sweet to something primal. Trailing his fingers down her body until they found her center, he worked them back and forth until her breaths grew harsh and her limbs trembled. She hovered on the edge of release, waiting for the final touch to send her over the cliff.
“Give me this.” He breathed his request against her mouth.
All she could offer was a slight nod, afraid her voice would falter if she tried to speak.
She expected him to return to what he’d been doing. It had been so perfect and she was still wanting. But his hands slid around her waist and he turned her body away from him. Calloused hands palmed her breasts as his lips blazed a path across her shoulder blades.
“Bend over.”
The command caught her off guard, but she did as he asked, feeling a rush of desire at the rough edges to his tone. And then he was inside her—bare. Moving in strong, sure strokes, his hands finding purchase on her hips. Her cries ricocheted off the tile walls as his thrusts became more forceful, more demanding. She was close, so close. All she needed was that one perfect movement. As if he’d heard her silent plea, his hand worked its way between her legs. That was it. She was gone. Her legs nearly gave out as she rode the pulses of pleasure.
“Jesus, God,” he hissed as she moaned and pushed back to force him deeper inside even as he tried to pull out. She didn’t want to let go of the moment.
“Lena, oh fuck.” His teeth grazed her shoulder sending shivers over her.
“I love you, Michael,” she said, knowing he needed to hear it more now than ever before.
She felt him harden even more and moved her hips forcefully to encourage him. A brief flicker of worry lit in the back of her mind as he groaned his own release, but she pushed it aside.
It was only once. The risk was there, but small.
Everything would be fine.
Two weeks later, Lena stared at the calendar in disbelief, her hands clammy and heart racing beneath her ribs. Five days. She was five days late. Nausea curled in the pit of her stomach. She was only twenty-five. She wasn’t ready to be pregnant.
“L? You okay over there?” Hallie asked, her shrewd eyes missing nothing.
Lena swallowed through the lump in her throat. What should she say? Was she okay? The honest answer was that she had no clue.
Shaking her head to clear the panic, she sighed. “Just tired. I think the trip is getting to me. Rhett told me if we nail this, he’s up for his own travel show.”
Arching one eyebrow, Hallie took a sip of her coffee. “Good for Rhett. What about you?”
“It’ll open a lot of doors. Rhett’s been throwing around big name magazines to try and keep me at his beck and call. I swear, the man thinks I’m his assistant rather than his partner.”
“He’s lucky we’ve never met. I’d hand him his pompous ass.”
Lena couldn’t contain her laughter. Hallie would do just that, and then some. “He’s really not that bad. Like a lobster. You have to break the shell to get to the good stuff.”
Hallie wrinkled her nose before turning back to her work. “I’ll take your word for it. I’m allergic to lobster.”
The rest of the afternoon passed in silence as they each focused on their tasks. Editing and emailing proofs, confirming bookings, and scheduling the last few sessions before Lena left for Japan. It wasn’t until her phone rang that Lena realized she’d worked through lunch. Michael’s handsome face appeared on the screen, sending a sickly tendril of anxiety through her.
“Hey there, firefighter.” She had to work to keep her tone light and teasing.
“God, I’ve missed you. When are you coming home?” His voice curled over her, easing her rising panic.
“I’m almost finished for the day, actually. You caught me at the perfect time.”
He let out a soft groan, and even in her uncertain state she warmed.
“I’ve been home less than six hours, haven’t slept in about two days, but all I can think about is being inside you. Surrounded by you.”
Her heart stuttered as heat crept up her cheeks. “It’s not my fault you worked a double. I was home . . . waiting.”
“Naked?”
Casting a glance at Hallie, she whispered under her breath, “You’ll never know.”
“If you don’t get here soon I might have to start without you. I stopped and restocked the nightstand. I plan on making a sizable dent in our supply tonight.” His voice was a low, raspy murmur. It should have sent a flood of arousal through her. Instead, the mention of condoms brought back the queasy knot in her belly.
“Lena? You still there?”
Jarred back to the moment, she shook her head to clear her mind. “Sorry. I was distracted by . . . something.”
“So, see you soon?”
“I . . . uh, I’ve got to pick up a few things from the store, but after that, I’m all yours.”
After they hung up, she let the panic wash over her. Breaths fast, chest tight, she dropped her head in her hands and tried to ride it out.
“You are definitely not okay. You’d better tell me what’s wrong.” Hallie rubbed a gentle hand over Lena’s back, waiting for an explanation.
“I’m late.”
After a sharp intake of breath, Hallie sat next to her. “How late?”
“Five days.”
“Shit.”
“Exactly.” Lena rested her head on her friend’s shoulder, needing some kind of solace.
“What are you going to do?”
Lena shook her head. “I have no clue.”
Chapter 13
There was a suspicious pink and white box sticking out of his wife’s purse when she walked through the door. Michael couldn’t help the racing of his heart at the sight. He knew all too well what a pregnancy test looked like. Lena hugged the purse close to her side as she brushed past him and made straight for the bathroom.
“I’ll be out in a few,” she called as the door slammed in his face.
A sense of unease crept in to spoil his excitement. She hadn’t looked nervous in a this-could-be-amazing sort of way. In fact, she looked like this was the worst thing possible.
He sat on the couch, compulsively checking the clock as the seconds ticked by. How long did those damn tests take? At the sound of the bathroom door opening, he clenched his hands into fists and forced himself to appear calm.
She shuffled into the room, eyes tired, and he thought he’d go insane trying to read her impassive expression. The woman was like a wall. If she didn’t want you to see through her, you couldn’t.
“You okay?” He winced when his voice cracked like a damn teenager.
Shrugging, she settled next to him and laid her head on his shoulder.
He wanted to leave it alone. Let her tell him if there was anything to tell. But that niggling worm of doubt crept its way to the forefront and pushed.
“So? Anything you need to tell me?”
She stiffened against him. “No.”
So, she wasn’t pregnant then. Surprisingly, he felt no relief, only a deep twinge of disappointment.
