“Of course,” Mabel said like Jennie had just asked the stupidest question on the planet. “Then I expect your kiln will be fixed and you’ll be busy with the new pieces.”
“Yes,” Jennie said, the weight of seven-thirty in the morning to meet with Glauco descending on her. “Then I’ll be busy with the art pieces.”
* * *
Jennie rolled out of bed at seven-twenty, pulled her hair back into a long ponytail and had just put a kettle of water on to boil when her doorbell rang.
She groaned and snagged a hoodie off the back of a kitchen chair on her way to the front door. She’d just stuffed her arms inside when someone knocked.
“Okay,” she said grumpily. It had been maybe ten seconds since they’d rung the doorbell. She opened the door to find Bennett standing there, glorious and radiant as the morning sun started to cast it’s golden glow over him.
“Morning,” he said like it was a good thing people were up this early. “I hope you have coffee going, because I got off late last night.”
“Don’t like coffee,” she said, her voice a bit froggy still.
“Oh, that’s right.” His shoulders fell as he stepped past her and into her house, uninvited. “I suppose you’ll have tea, then.”
As if the kettle had heard him, it started to sing. Jennie liked the way he filled out the gray T-shirt he wore, liked the jeans that hung on his hips, the way he seemed at ease in her space, that he’d come to help her with Glauco.
Without saying anything, she squeezed past him and busied herself in the kitchen, making tea.
She handed him a cup a few minutes later and watched as he lifted it to his lips. He took the smallest of sips, grimacing and putting the cup on the counter. “He should be here in a minute. He just texted me when I got here.”
“Great.” Jennie didn’t know what else to say. And she hated that. Sure, she and Bennett maybe hadn’t had the perfect relationship before, but she’d always had something to tell him about, something to say.
“I’ll be working out at the Mansion again today,” he said, taking a seat at her bar. “Maybe after we’re done here, we can go to lunch or something. Then head out there together.”
Jennie’s eyes flew to his, and he didn’t look away. She found strength and determination in his gaze, and she actually liked it.
“I know you just had something bad happen,” he said. “We don’t have to pick up where we left off twenty years ago.” He swallowed, the first sign of nerves from the burly firefighter. “I’d actually like to go a little slow. I, uh, I’ve been divorced for about seven years now.” He left so much left unsaid, but Jennie heard it all.
He’d been hurt too. Maybe they wouldn’t like each other now as much as they had then. But he wanted to try.
And as Jennie thought about it, she wanted to try too. So she nodded and said, “Okay.”
“Okay.” Bennett picked up his cup of tea as if he’d take another drink. He seemed to remember last minute what was in the cup, because his eyebrows pinched together and he set down the cup.
The doorbell rang again, propelling him off the barstool and toward the front door like he owned the place. Jennie let him answer, because Glauco was his friend and she honestly just wanted to get this kiln and outlet problem over with.
Bennett’s presence at her side brought her comfort as Glauco examined the kiln, the outlets, the other things she needed to power. He sketched and talked in a heavy accent, and Jennie liked that she could look to Bennett for an explanation when she didn’t know what “re-route the lines” meant or “splice the power” would mean in terms of cost.
She’d look at Bennett, and he’d launch into an explanation that a five-year-old could understand. So that, after about twenty minutes, when Glauco stopped talking, Jennie knew about what he was going to do and how much it would cost.
“Well, I have to do it,” she said with a sigh. “How long will it take?”
“This?” Glauco waved at the singed outlet like it was nothing. “A day or two. Tops.”
“When can you start?” Bennett asked, and it almost felt like Jennie could lean back into his strong body and he’d support her.
She stood as still and straight as possible, surprised by her feelings, especially after she’d sworn off all humans with a Y-chromosome after she’d pulled herself together and addressed the crowd who’d come to see her walk down the aisle.
It had been a different sort of walk, that was for sure.
Maybe you’ve been living in the anger stage of grief for long enough, she thought as Glauco said, “I come tomorrow. Yes?” He looked from Bennett to Jennie, who nodded.
“Yes, tomorrow would be great.” She shook his hand and he left her alone with Bennett again.
“So it’s nowhere near lunchtime,” he said once the door had clicked shut. “Breakfast?”
“I don’t eat breakfast, remember?”
Bennett tilted his head at her as if trying to see inside her mind. “I don’t remember that.”
“Yes, well.” She folded her arms. “I’m not a fan of eggs.”
He blinked, his face going blank for a moment. “I’m not even sure what to do with that. Who doesn’t like eggs?”
“Lots of people,” she said, feeling her defenses shoot right up. She tried to tamp down her impatience and her attitude. “But I could be convinced to go to brunch. I like the coffee cakes and stuff at Riverwalk Pastries.” She gave him the sweetest smile she could.
He chuckled, and she knew she had him. He’d always gone where she wanted to, done what she’d asked. He’d been a very, very good boyfriend once, and Jennie’s mind wandered down that road again.
“So how long have you had Gemma?” she asked.
“Seven years.”
So since the divorce. Maybe she should’ve gotten a little dog instead of the white furball who hid under the bed whenever anyone came over.
“Tell me about your wife.”
His gaze flew to hers, and she tried to make her expression soft and compassionate. But since she couldn’t see herself, she had no idea if she succeeded or not.
“It was Cynthia Gray,” he said, swallowing afterward. “You remember her, right?”
Jennie did remember Cynthia Gray, right down to the fake Madonna mole she glued to her face every morning before school. “Wow,” she said, managing to keep all emotion out of her voice. “I don’t see you with her.”
“Yeah, well, she didn’t either.”
Jennie tilted her head, hearing more in those words than he’d said. “What does that mean?”
“I don’t want to talk it to death,” he said, a flash of frustration filling his eyes. He blinked, and it was gone. Thankfully, so was the mask he usually hid behind.
“She only liked me when she thought I’d be a rich and famous baseball player. Once that dream died, so did our marriage. She’s with a football player—or maybe hockey. Something—now.” His jaw clenched, and Jennie heard the hurt in his voice though he was very, very good at hiding it.
“I’m sorry, Bennett,” she said, meaning every syllable and letting the emotion come out in them. She wanted to ask him why he wasn’t a professional baseball player. It had always been his dream, and he had to be bored at the fire station, despite the dog he clearly loved.
She didn’t ask him, though. She’d already pushed him to reveal emotional things, so she said, “I need to shower and go to the bank. Can I meet you at Riverwalk around ten-ish?
“Ten’s fine,” he said. “I’ll take Gemma down to the beach. She needs to get out.” He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. “She’s been cowering under the kitchen table since yesterday’s run-in with the horses.”
“Horses can be terrifying.”
That brought a smile to Bennett’s face. “You don’t like the look in their eyes.”
“They’re too smart,” she said. “And big. I don’t trust them at all.”
“I’ll take you out again, if you want.” A playful glint en
tered his eye, and Jennie had the distinct feeling that they were reliving the same memory—the one where he kissed her under a star-filled sky after they’d ridden his family’s horses to the coast.
She cleared her throat—wishing her mind could be as easily purged—and looked away.
He clapped his hands. “Okay, so ten at Riverwalk.” He practically lunged for the door, and Jennie stood back as he strode out.
“You’re being insane,” she muttered to herself as she cleaned up his undrunk tea and headed for the shower. “There’s no way he really wants to get back together with you. You haven’t even been nice to him.”
As she stepped into the warm spray, her only thought was, Then start being nicer.
Chapter Seven
There were literally never emergencies in Hawthorne Harbor. Never.
But when Bennett’s phone rang as he stepped out of the shower, Charles said, “We’ve got an emergency.”
“I’m ten minutes out.” And that was if he was already dressed, which he wasn’t. “What’s going on?”
“Massive fire in Forks. They’re calling in everyone.”
“Wow. Must be bad.” Bennett’s heart pounded like he’d just sprinted the last four hundred yards of a marathon. Forks was an hour away without traffic, and if they needed the Hawthorne Harbor Fire Department on the scene….
He said, “Be there in five,” and hung up, focusing on getting dressed and getting out of the house as quickly as possible.
Uno and Charles were already on the truck when he pulled in, and he swung into the passenger seat to find all his gear there.
“Ready?” Charles asked, his face grim.
Bennett nodded, wishing he had more in his stomach than a couple of swallows of disgusting tea.
He pulled on his fire clothes and checked to make sure he had his helmet and other equipment before he put his thumbs to work.
Bennett texted the Yardleys first. Had a fire emergency. Can you run over and check on Gemma in a few hours?
Nelly will be thrilled! came back their reply. Bennett made a mental note to get something for them and their five-year-old. They were such great neighbors, and he relied on them a lot.
He drew in a deep breath and prepared to text Jennie. Their brunch date was still an hour away, so hopefully she hadn’t gone to too much trouble yet.
Just thinking the word date got his pulse skipping and he felt hotter than normal. That could’ve been from the fire suit though.
It was in that moment that he realized he didn’t have Jennie’s number. His mind rotated, trying to find a solution. He couldn’t just stand her up—what kind of trauma would that inflict on her?
He’d have to text Jason, but that caused a wave of frustration to roll over Bennett’s shoulders.
Nothing to be done about it, he told himself. So he sent a message to Jason, hoping there wasn’t a police emergency too.
Why do you need her number? Jason asked instead of just going with the easy route and giving him the number.
I need to talk to her. Every minute and every mile that went by got him closer to ten o’clock—and losing his temper.
I don’t know if I can give it to you.
Bennett growled under his breath. Fine. I asked her to brunch, but there’s a huge emergency in Forks, and I can’t make it. I need to text her and let her know. He ground his teeth together as he waited for Jason to answer.
The number came through, along with a thumbs up emoticon, which Bennett ignored. He put Jennie’s number in his phone and got his thumbs moving again.
Hey, it’s Bennett. I got your number from Jason, because I can’t make brunch. I’m so sorry. Got called down to Forks with a big fire emergency.
He read over the words again and again and then sent them.
Oh, okay, Jennie messaged back. Stay safe.
That was all. No call me later, or let’s reschedule.
Bennett wasn’t sure why he wasn’t happy with her response. He dropped his phone on the seat beside him and settled his sunglasses over his eyes for the long drive ahead.
The smoke came into view long before Forks did, and Bennett leaned forward to see further out the windshield, fear entering his body.
“Wow.”
“Chemical plant,” Charles said, his fingers flexing on the steering wheel. “Technically not in Forks, but yeah.” He watched the sky for a moment before focusing on the road again. “Not going to be pretty.”
Bennett hoped there weren’t human casualties, but he braced himself for the worst. Charles employed the lights and the siren and they skirted the city to get to the fire.
No less than a dozen other trucks were already there, but as soon as Charles and Bennett stepped out of their rig, a boxy man shouted orders at them. He wore the helmet of a fire chief, and Bennett didn’t question him.
They left their hose attached, as the items burning couldn’t be put out with water.
“Stay here, Uno,” Bennett said, leaving the dog in the running truck. No way the animal could come in and potentially step in something that would injure him. He wasn’t even sure Uno should be breathing this air, what with the multi-colored smoke coming from multiple openings in the building.
They joined the line for the chemical retardants, and Bennett strapped his oxygen mask into place.
He’d never been inside a chemical facility before, and he never wanted to be again. All the halls felt too dark and too long, and he got hopelessly lost in only a few minutes.
He entered a room where something bubbled and fizzed no matter how much powder the firefighters in front of him poured onto it. Discussions broke out, and Bennett stepped forward to listen.
It didn’t make sense that they had to bring their own substances to extinguish whatever was foaming and causing steam to rise from the container. Surely the scientists who worked here would have systems in place to contain the chemicals.
He spotted a cabinet that hadn’t been opened and stepped over to it. The doors were locked. “What about this?” he asked, his voice robotic through the oxygen mask.
Only one person turned toward him, but he looked strong enough to pry doors open if the situation required it.
“There’s got to be something in here,” Bennett said, quickly explaining why he thought so.
The man took a small hatchet from his tool belt and wedged it between the doors, twisting it and bending the doors. Bennett used his good arm and wrenched the door back to find containers labeled with large letters.
“This one,” the other man said, selecting one that said EXTINGUISH in huge red letters. He stepped over to the foaming tray and poured it on. The smoke stopped—and so did the conversation.
“They have solutions here,” he said, pointing to the cabinet. “What else is still active?”
Bennett accepted the nod from the other firefighter, and the crew moved through the chemical plant, checking every room, every corner, every cabinet until everything was contained and under control.
Bennett would not want to be the one responsible for cleanup, but as he stepped back outside, he realized he wouldn’t just be able to head on home.
A huge tent had been set up, and every firefighter who had been inside had to go through an intense decontamination procedure.
Bennett waited, his oxygen mask in place and sweat running down his back, for his turn, watching the sky settle toward dusk.
* * *
His shoulder ached, and Bennett adjusted the ice pack to settle over the joint again. He yawned, wishing he could go to sleep. But his insomnia seemed particularly troubling tonight.
He thought about calling Jennie before realizing she hadn’t messaged or called him either. Did she know about the huge mess at the chemical plant?
He changed the channel, only to see the blue smoke lifting into the sky and over the ocean. It seemed everyone knew about it, and it would be a miracle if she didn’t.
Mabel had called earlier and left a message that she’d bring food by his plac
e. He took another bite of the macaroni salad, reminding himself that he needed to write the woman a thank you card.
His mom had been frantic until he’d called in. She said she’d let his brother and sister know, and Bennett had felt loved for a few moments.
He was loved, he knew that. Somehow, he always put how Cynthia felt about him above everyone else.
And she hadn’t loved him enough to make it to till death do us part.
But it was okay. He scrubbed Gemma’s ears, grateful for the dog’s presence in his life. She’d been enough, and she always loved him.
But as a few more minutes passed and his eyes drifted closed, Bennett wondered if the love of a black lab was really what he wanted.
And why did he feel so lonely with his trusty companion right beside him?
Chapter Eight
Jennie couldn’t tear herself from the images on the TV. So much smoke. So many emergency vehicles going in and out. She felt like she was watching the news coverage of a horrible event, similar to the tragedy of September eleventh.
And Bennett was on the scene. Her fingers went round and round each other, but she couldn't look away.
She’d initially been disappointed when he’d cancelled their brunch. At least she’d had advanced warning, even if she had to endure several very annoying texts from her “older” brother.
She’d reminded Jason that he was four minutes older than her, and had been pushy even inside the womb. She gave him no answers, only that Bennett had helped her with her kiln that morning and they were supposed to meet up to eat.
It doesn’t mean anything. That had been the last text she’d sent to him before silencing the notifications for his texts.
What a lie.
Of course brunch with Bennett meant something. Probably a lot of something. Jennie had been trying to figure out how she felt all day, and it was impossible.
It was Bennett Patterson. The boy she’d grown up with. Her first crush. First kiss. She hadn’t known as an eighteen-year-old if she loved him or not.
Hawthorne Harbor Box Set Page 47
