Chapter 17 #2
One of his guys—Heath, I think his name is—pokes his head out from behind the truck. “Finally ready to join the better shift, Captain Valentine?”
“Those bumpers aren’t going to shine themselves,” Lieutenant Mercer reprimands the guy from over in the kitchen. I can still see his usual scowl from here, however.
I chuckle, appreciating their affectionate teasing. “Just here to add my signature to the helipad paperwork,” I explain to my fellow captain.
Reynolds raises his eyebrows and nods. “It’s a hell of a lot of hoops to jump through. You’d think they’d want to speed up the process of getting us something that could save a lot of lives.”
“Yeah,” I say, shaking my head with a shrug. “But it costs a lot of money, so the suits are obviously going to drag their feet for as long as possible.”
Reynolds tuts and looks out over his guys. “You have any luck talking to Hendrix about the position?”
I sigh. “Nope. That kid is allergic to commitment.”
“Tell me about it.” Reynolds folds his arms across his chest and practically pouts. “It hurts my feelings when he sees other firehouses behind our backs.”
With a snort, I clap him on the shoulder. “As much as I’d love to stick around and show you how a real captain operates—”
“You’d rather be anywhere but here,” Reynolds guesses.
I wink at him. “Catch you later.”
“Bye, Captain Valentine!” Heath shouts from behind the truck. “Can’t wait to kick Nelson’s ass at pool again next time we see you!”
“Sawyer has got to stop embarrassing us at pool,” I grumble as I finally make my way back to my car. But then I remember where my destination is—and who’s waiting for me there—and I’m soon smiling again.
The drive home flies by, and just seeing Romeo’s car in my drive makes my heart soar.
He might have been technically living here for the past few days, but emotionally it feels like he’s only just moved in.
And yes, obviously he’s going to be living in the annex.
That doesn’t stop me from practically vibrating all the way to his door, eager to be reunited with him after barely being an hour apart.
But when I knock, there’s no answer. I don’t want to let myself in as that feels too familiar just yet, so I go back around to my own front door.
He could be in the shower—that’s certainly what I’m thinking of doing.
Or he could have gone to the store or perhaps he’s listening to music on his headphones.
Whatever the reason, I might as well get freshened up before dropping him a text or call to find out where he’s at.
Except, I don’t need to do that. Because as soon as I open my door, I hear the bass from the music playing over my sound system in the kitchen as well as smell something that immediately has my stomach rumbling.
It’s only in that moment do I realize that aside from some protein bars, we didn’t really eat today.
“Hello?” I call out, shutting the front door and toeing my sneakers off.
“In here!” Romeo replies.
He sounds happy.
I bite my lip to try and contain my grin as I walk down the hall to find him, but it’s difficult. Especially when I round the corner to discover him looking fully at home in my kitchen when up until now I’ve hardly been able to convince him to even use the microwave.
There’s a bottle of red wine open, and he takes a sip from a glass between chopping the peppers and onions he’s got on the wooden board in front of him. There’s chicken sizzling in a pan and the scent of spices fill the air. He lunges over and turns the music down a bit.
“I started making us fajitas for dinner,” he says cheerfully, but then his smile falters. “I hope that’s okay?”
It’s probably a stupid thing to get emotional over, but there’s a slight lump in my throat as I take in the scene. “You raided my fridge,” I say softly.
“Is that okay?” he repeats, sounding even more unsure.
Eager to put him at ease, I stride over and sweep him up in my arms, peppering kisses across his face. The fact that I can just do that now makes me want to burst into song like I’m in a musical. Maybe they’re not as dumb as I always thought they were.
“It’s absolutely amazing,” I tell him honestly. I’ve been so desperate for him to feel like he’s at home here and not some awkward guest. He’s gone from hiding in the annex to taking over my whole kitchen and helping himself to all my groceries in a matter of hours.
My heart feels about three times bigger than usual.
He giggles nervously as I set him back down again. “You had everything to make fajitas, so I assumed you like them?”
“I love them,” I assure him. “And I love this wine. Good choice.”
“Um, thanks,” he says as I fetch myself a glass. He sounds shy but proud. “I’m not into beer or whiskey, but you had a lot of red wine which I do quite like, and I thought it would be nice to share.”
I finish pouring and hold up my drink to him. “Sharing sounds perfect,” I tell him as we tap glasses.
We both take a sip, but then he licks his lips and regards me thoughtfully. “Well, actually…dinner is thanks for today. For, you know…everything. It meant a lot to me, Julian.”
I put my glass down so I can close the distance between us again. I’m not sure how I want to touch him, I just know that I need to get my hands on him in some way. When he also puts his glass down, he naturally holds onto my hips, and I embrace his shoulders. It feels like we’re going to dance.
Although maybe not to this club music, at least not in a romantic way. I want to sway, not grind.
Maybe later.
“It was my pleasure to help you move,” I promise him. But he shakes his head.
“Not just that.” He licks his lips and looks earnestly into my eyes. “What you said…it really mattered to me. The only person who’s believed in me like that before is Beatrice, but she kind of has to because she’s my sister, so it doesn’t count.”
He laughs, but I narrow my eyes at him. “She…doesn’t have to,” I point out. “She believes in you because you’re worth believing in. There’s no obligation just because she’s your sister.”
His parents certainly didn’t feel like they needed to stick around for him, did they?
Romeo ducks his head for a second but then looks back at me bashfully. “Yeah, okay,” he mumbles. However, he’s smiling and seems to be listening to me. “What you did was still a big deal.”
“I’m honored to hear it,” I tell him, accepting the compliment with grace this time.
The moment drags out as we look into each other’s eyes. But then he gasps and spins away from me. “The chicken!”
I chuckle and take a perch at the breakfast bar to watch as he makes short work of finishing up our dinner.
It strikes me as I sip my wine that I can’t remember the last time someone fussed over me like this.
Someone who wasn’t one of my parents. I get a pang as the reality of their passing resurfaces, but it’s just a little less painful than usual.
Having Romeo in my home and in my life suddenly makes the hardship that bit easier to bear.
It doesn’t take him long to finish making the fajitas, and we have an easy dinner at the breakfast bar. I tell him about the red tape with the helicopter, and he talks to me about the wedding exhibition he’s got coming up with the bridal boutique where he works.
They’re going to be doing a catwalk with some of the new dresses they got in this season, and apparently Romeo found all the models himself.
It seems he was determined to use local girls, and diversity was high on his list of priorities.
He positively beams as he talks about how he’s got a mix of races, sizes, some with tattoos and piercings, and even a model in a wheelchair.
“I wanted to suggest having a guy in a dress,” he tells me breathlessly. “But I thought that would be too much. It’s not my brand, after all.”
“They’d probably be more open to the idea than you think,” I tell him supportively. “It sounds like you’re doing an amazing job. But…I’ll admit I’m a little confused. I thought you were a wedding planner?”
I wash down my last bite of dinner with some wine. I’m more excited than hungry, but discipline has taught me to eat food when it’s given to me, as my next meal might not come for a long time if I get caught on a call.
He looks bashful and toys with the stem of his glass. “That’s my dream,” he admits, peeking at me through his lashes. “But for now, I just work at the store.”
My protective instincts flare. That seems to be happening a lot around him. “Well, you help people with what they’re potentially going to wear on one of the most important days of their lives. I think that’s pretty special.”
The way he squirms on the bar stool does something powerful to my insides.
“I like to think so,” he says quietly, but his eyes are twinkling.
“If I could open my own business, it would be like that but a hundred times more. I just love the idea of creating the perfect day for couples, especially, um…”
He suddenly looks uncertain, and I can’t have that. I slide my hand over his knee and give it a squeeze. “Especially for what?” I prompt.
The gesture seems to work, and he beams shyly at me. “Especially for queer couples. Not exclusively. I’m not sure there’d be enough demand for that, and I wouldn’t want to turn anyone away who likes my vibe. But they’d have to embrace my mission statement.”
“Which is?” I ask.
He sits up taller on his stool. “That everyone deserves to love freely,” he says with such conviction it makes my heart soar.
“And celebrate their day in the way that’s best for them.
If a groom wants to wear a dress, or a bride a suit, I want to give them the confidence to do that.
If they want to throw out tradition and go crazy, I’m going to be the guy who makes it happen.
And if their families don’t support them… ”
He falters, but I’m right there to catch him. “Then you’ll be there to support them,” I finish.
With a slightly wet laugh, he nods. “Exactly.”
Pride overcomes me, and I almost trip on my words. But I manage to pull it together, for him. “I think you’d be perfect at that, Romeo,” I tell him earnestly. “You did such an incredible job for your sister.”
“She was my first case study,” he says, less unsure now and more excited again.
“I haven’t had any time yet because of…well, you know.
” He waves his hands around to indicate all the fuckery going on with his apartment, and I laugh sympathetically.
“But I’m going to start building a portfolio.
I’ve already got a lot of contacts through the boutique.
I just need some more people to take a chance on me. ”
“I’m sure they will,” I say, truly meaning it. “You’ve got this way about you. It draws others in. As soon as you start getting yourself out there, I’m certain you’ll attract customers in no time.”
“Yeah?” There’s so much sweet hopefulness packed into only one word.
I nod, feeling the air shift between us. “You’re really special, Romeo.”
“You said that before,” he murmurs.
Squeezing his knee, I tilt my head and gaze into his beautiful brown eyes. “I meant it before,” I tell him. “And I mean it now. You’re not just special, you’re one of a kind.”
“Like a black diamond,” he suggests.
“Exactly,” I agree, a huge grin spreading across my face.
Romeo inches slightly closer. “You took a chance on me, Julian,” he points out, and I nod. “You didn’t have to.”
I disagree. “I think I was pretty powerless to resist your charms,” I inform him. “I couldn’t help but fall for you.”
A little breath catches in his chest as he stares at me with wonder. “You’re falling for me?”
“I’m pretty confident I am, yeah.”
He licks his lips then draws the lower one between his teeth. “We aren’t taking this very slowly, are we?”
I hum, my hand feeling hot against his thigh. “We can go as slow or as fast as you like, sweetheart. Always.”
“Um,” he half stumbles off the stool as he stands, crowding between my legs. “Right now? I think I’m feeling like fast might be a good idea.”
“Yeah?” I rasp, determined to let him set the pace but also feeling like my heart’s about to explode in my chest. Not to mention all the blood that’s currently rushing down through my body as my cock swells. He’s so tantalizingly close, but I have to follow his lead.
Luckily, it seems we’re on the same wavelength.
“Yeah,” he agrees with more conviction, nodding. “Fast.”
Then he crashes his mouth into mine, and it feels like coming home.