Chapter 37
Checking my reflection in the full-length mirror in the corner of my bedroom one more time, I squeeze my eyes shut and take several slow, long breaths in and out. My heart feels like it’s choking me, it’s climbed so high in my throat. Nervous energy races through me like I’ve just shot gunned several Red Bull cans back-to-back. I’m twitchy and anxious.
Opening my eyes, I smooth my hands over my body. A soft, fluttery black blouse is buttoned over my breasts and tucked into high waisted, wide-legged black slacks that hug my hips and make my butt look good. I have a body slimmer beneath it, smoothing out my mom-tummy and keeping all my wobbly bits in check. A light, dusty blue blazer covers my arms and highlights my waist, though I leave it unbuttoned due to the heat. I’m starting to think this heatwave will never cease.
I pulled my hair up into a clip on the back of my head, face framing tendrils left to flutter against my cheeks. My makeup is simple and chic. A pair of pointed-toe suede flats in a color that perfectly matches my blazer are on my feet. I’m probably overdressed, but an interview is an interview, and I desperately want to make sure I make a good impression .
I nod at my reflection and mutter to myself, “It’s an interview, Teddy, not your execution.”
It doesn’t help, but at least I tried.
Leaving the safety of my bedroom, the hard soles of my shoes click on the linoleum in the kitchen as I enter. Colleen looks up from the bag of groceries she’s unloading on my counter and smiles wide, then holds up one hand and circles her finger. I laugh, doing a slow spin to show her the entire outfit.
“That color blue is just stunning on you,” she says, beaming. Penny and Dalton are at school, and Bea is currently rolling around on the floor for some tummy time with several toys.
“Thank you,” I murmur, blushing. I pick up my purse and sling it over my shoulder, then sigh and put it back down. “I don’t think I need my giant diaper bag purse to go to an interview.”
“Just take your wallet and your keys. That’s all you need. And I better not see you back here for at least three hours.”
“What? Why? If an interview lasts that long there’s something fishy going on, Colleen,” I mutter, laughing.
“Go get your nails done, go to lunch, go to the bookstore and get yourself a new book or two,” Colleen says, waving her hand dismissively. “I don’t care what you do. Just don’t come back right away.”
I hug her tightly. “You really are the best,” I whisper, then pull back, holding her by the shoulders. “But you know better than that.”
“I’ll kick your fine-looking rear right back out of this house,” she teases lightly, pushing me away. “Now get, go get a coffee before you have to be there.”
I laugh out loud, shaking my head. “I definitely don’t need a coffee. I already feel like I’m going to buzz right out of my skin as it is.”
“Well, nonetheless, get out of here. I’m going to teach Bea how to make a lasagna. ”
Snorting a laugh, I roll my eyes, but give her a salute and say, “Yes, Ma’am.”
I grab my wallet and my keys out of my big purse and then I cross the living room to where Bea has just rolled from her tummy to her back. She’s got a crinkly baby book clutched between her tiny hands and she’s kicking her legs in baby excitement at her conquest. I lower my body to my hands and knees over her and smooch her all over her face and neck, avoiding her grabby little hands before she can either make a mess of my hair or swipe baby drool over my jacket or shirt.
“I’ll be back in a bit, bug,” I whisper, then heave myself to my feet, and then I’m out the door.
Climbing into my minivan, I start it and reverse out of the driveway before I can convince myself that this is a colossally bad idea.
It doesn’t take long to drive across town to the local county police department, but then I sit in the parking lot for a long time, staring at the brick building.
Grief, guilt, sadness, and anger all cascade through me like a kaleidoscope on an endless cycle as I sit and stare at the building, the people and deputies coming and going. I’d had to move away from Cedar Valley, a slightly larger city than Sky Ridge that’s located a couple towns over, to get away from the life Logan and I had shared. I’d moved a whole county over to escape the people that I had let down in so many ways. As a 911 dispatcher for Cedar Valley, I’d known all of the emergency personnel in my district; all the police officers, deputies, firefighters, and EMT’s. We’d been family for ten years… and after Logan’s accident, I just… couldn’t. The pain and grief and pitying looks from those that we’d worked with for so long ate at me.
It’s why I’d quit the department, why I’d taken an early maternity leave, and then moved away. I couldn’t stay and be around all of the people I’d let down. All the people that miss Logan as much as I do. Even if they don’t blame me for what happened, I do.
I know a handful of the surrounding counties officers and EMT’s through my old department, but thankfully not many. It’s one of the reasons I said yes to Sky Ridge when Cal suggested the move. A fresh start, while being closer to Cal and Scottie and still being close enough to Logan’s parents that they can see the kids a few times a month.
Taking a deep breath, I force myself to exit the car and walk inside.
Forty-five minutes later, I’m sliding back into the minivan feeling both lighter and heavier at the same time. The interview went great. It wasn’t even a real interview; they knew they wanted me. It was more just an informal on-boarding meeting to go over scheduling availability, salary, and to meet the deputies and the other dispatchers. They’re all friendly and it felt good to be back in the familiar atmosphere of the station.
I wasn’t surprised at the mandatory counseling and the psych evaluation criteria they’d requested before I begin, but I won’t lie and say it didn’t sting, at least a little bit. I know it’s standard procedure, a way to protect me and my new team, to make sure I am mentally capable of handling this job, especially after everything. But I’m just sensitive enough for it to bother me, even if I know it’s for the best. Even if I know that it would be mandatory even without my past.
Now that the adrenaline and anxiety coursing through my system has started to wane, I’m drained and exhausted. So I decide on a small pick-me-up and drive over to The Nook. I order myself my iced coffee with caramel sweet cream and a lemon blueberry muffin, then park myself in a booth along the wall.
My mind is a maelstrom, anxiety crashing through me anew as I pick at the crinkly paper wrapper that surrounds my muffin. My stomach is in knots and I honestly don’t think I can take a bite without making a mad dash to the bathroom to empty my stomach of its contents. Fingers shaking, I lift my coffee to my lips and take a tiny sip, then set it back down with a thunk on the table in front of me. Burying my face in my trembling hands, I focus on slowing my agitated breathing. Squeezing my eyes shut behind my hands, I try not to focus on how frantically my heart is beating in my chest, making me light headed. God, I haven’t had a panic attack in so long.
I’d been doing so good.
And one little interview sends me spiraling.
I snort a derisive, self-deprecating laugh. Why they would feel fit to hire a mess like me is worrisome. Maybe I’m not ready for this, after all.
The noise inside the coffee shop is loud. It’s busy and customers are chatting over the sound of the music system piping a Taylor Swift song through the building.
I’m still focusing on slowing my breathing when the booth seat directly next to me dips with the weight of someone else sitting down and I startle. Before I can drop my hands though, an arm is draped over my shoulders, squeezing me into a muscular, hard side.
The smell of diesel fuel, smoke, and pine reach my nose instantly and a soft, almost silent sob escapes me.
Xander.
Eyes still covered by my hands, I lean into him as his hand smooths up and down my arm, his other hand cupping my face and turning me into him. His fingers trail over my face, my hair, and his lips press into my temple as he whispers quiet, nonsensical words into my hair.
“Hey,” he murmurs quietly, that deep, soothing timbre of his voice lulling me. “What’s going on, Mama?”
I laugh hesitantly, embarrassed to be seen like this. So, changing the subject, I whisper, “I didn’t even know you were back in town. ”
“We just got back.” His quiet, husky words are partly muffled against my hair, where I can feel his lips moving as he speaks. “I got home and Colleen came out, said you had an interview and she’d told you to take an hour for yourself. I know your addiction to coffee, so this was the first place I looked.”
Leaning away slightly, I lower my hands after swiping beneath my lashes for any escaped tears, then look up at him. “You came to find me?”
“You’re the first person I want to see when I come back,” he rasps, stroking his fingers along my cheek.
His gaze is tender, shining with honesty. He’s filthy, soot and dirt hastily scrubbed off his face, but he’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Leaning down, he presses a kiss to my mouth, a chaste, unhurried kiss. One laced with a promise of more later.
“Now,” he murmurs gently, tucking that strand of hair behind my ear, his eyes tracking over every inch of my face as if trying to catalog each feature. “Want to tell me why my girl is sitting alone in a coffee shop clearly having an anxiety attack?”
My heart does this ridiculous pitter patter thing in my chest at his words. My girl .
Fucking swoon .
I sigh, pursing my lips and leaning into him again, burying my head in the crook of his neck beneath his jaw.
“I had an interview today.”
“That’s what Colleen said,” he says gently, rubbing his hand down my arm again. “What was it for?”
“A job.”
“Teddy,” he growls low, tilting his head down toward mine. I let out a small huff of a laugh. It’s kind of fun annoying this man.
I inhale deeply, taking in his scent that is becoming achingly familiar to me. “It’s a job with Sky Ridge as a dispatcher.”
“And that is cause for an anxiety attack?” he asks gently.
I groan lightly, doing a weird yes-no bobble thing with my head. “Do I have to start at the beginning, or just a quick run through?”
“You tell me whatever you’re comfortable telling me,” Xander says quietly, squeezing me close again. “If you want to skim, that’s okay. If you want to talk it out, that’s okay, too. I’ll listen.”
I nod, the top of my head shifting beneath his chin. “Even if I have to talk about Logan?”
He squeezes me tighter, nodding. “Even then.”
Sighing heavily, I whisper, “You know Logan and I worked together?” He nods against the top of my head, so I continue. “I’m sure you know he was an EMT, and I worked as a dispatcher in the same district. We worked side by side for a decade, and I loved my job.” I squeeze my eyes shut tight, holding onto him even tighter. He must sense the shift in me, because he wraps both arms around me. We’re cocooned together in this little booth, the coffee shop around us disappearing. “What do you know about Logan’s accident?”
“I know the basics, just what Cal shared. He was an EMT. Sent out on a call in the middle of winter and got struck by a passing vehicle while trying to load into the ambulance.”
Pain slices through me all over again, like it happened yesterday and not almost a year ago. Throat tight with emotion, I manage to whisper, “I was the dispatcher that sent him out on that call.”
“Fuck,” he whispers on a groan, holding me closer. “Teddy…”
“I wasn’t even supposed to be working that night. Penny was sick earlier in the week with a double ear infection and I’d swapped shifts so I could stay home with her. I was exhausted from being up with Penny for days, we had just found out I was pregnant with Bea, and I had terrible morning sickness…” I shake my head, the memories assaulting me all over again. “It was snowing, and an older gentleman had slid off the road into a di tch and hit his head. It should have been a minor call, quick in-and-out. I remember wondering why it was taking so long to hear back from them, annoyed even, that he hadn’t called to say they were back at the station.” I take a deep, steadying breath in and let it out slowly. Then I whisper, “And then I answered the call and found out my husband was dead at an accident I’d sent him to.”
Xander’s arms are like vices around me and I realize then that I’m shaking from head to toe. Tears rim my eyes and make my vision blurry as he rocks me against him. I haven’t talked about this with anyone outside of grief counseling. It’s not something I’ve been able to vocalize out loud to anyone.
I don’t know what it is about this man that makes me drop all of my shields. All of these carefully crafted concrete walls with steel reinforcements and barbed wire turn to dust around him.
It’s a terrifying revelation.
Something in him makes me want to open up, makes me want to try. Being around Xander reminds me what it’s like to not be so goddamn alone all the time, to not have to suffer through everything on my own. Reminds me what it’s like to have a partner to share things with, all the good and the bad and the ugly.
“I felt responsible for sending him out to that accident. I got my husband killed,” I whisper, my nose stinging with more tears. “I was given bereavement leave, and then never went back. I couldn’t walk into that station, take calls, and send other people's loved ones out. I couldn’t stand the thought of getting someone else killed the way I had gotten Logan killed.”
“That wasn’t your fault,” Xander rasps, his lips moving against my temple. I breathe him in, and then nod slowly. “Please tell me you haven’t gone this whole time blaming yourself for what happened.”
“I could say that but I’d be lying,” I laugh lightly, settling into his embrace. “Logically I know it was a freak accident. One of those perfect storm situations that none of us could have seen coming. But yes, I still blame myself. So going to this interview today just… brought everything back. I loved my job. I was good at my job,” I huff, shaking my head. “But the idea of sending those deputies, EMT’s, and firemen out on calls knowing I could very well be the reason they don’t get to go home to their families… It's debilitating.”
“You would not be the reason they don’t come home,” he whispers, rocking me gently. “Every person in this profession knows the risks and are willing to take those risks to help others. A freak accident, a fireman not making it out of a structure fire, an officer being injured: none of those things would ever come out to being your fault, Teddy. It’s…” he sighs heavily, pressing his cheek to the top of my head, “…it’s the reality of the job, and even though it’s not fair, we know what we’re getting ourselves into.”
I swallow around more tears. Hearing him lumped into that is terrifying, too. Because he’s right, he’s right there along with them, running headfirst into danger without a glance back. Same as Cal. Same as Scottie, my—hopefully—soon to be sister-in-law. I would be working directly with Scottie, since she works for Sky Ridge EMS.
“I couldn’t forgive myself if I sent Scottie out to a call and she didn’t make it home to Cal,” I croak, tears strangling me. I shake my head then, rolling my eyes at how ridiculous I’m being, but I can’t help it. “I don’t know that I’m ready for this. God, I’m such a baby.”
“How many people did you help in your decade at Cedar Valley, Teddy?” he asks, tilting my chin up. Embarrassed at the tears streaking my face, I try to lower my face from him, but he’s having none of it. “How many times did you answer that phone and you were the person on the other end of the line, helping a total stranger through the worst time in their lives? How many people did you save, sweetheart?” He strokes my cheek gently, reverently, as he stares down at me, and more tears slip down my cheeks. “You can’t let the absolute worst-case scenario be your measure of normal, or let that keep you from doing a job that you know you can do. A job you know you are great at.”
God, this man. If he were any more perfect, he’d be a unicorn.
“Do you miss it?” he asks then, smoothing my hair away from my face and swiping his thumb across my cheek, swiping away the trail of tears that I’m almost positive have smudged the little bit of makeup I had on.
“So much,” I answer honestly, my lip wobbling.
He kisses me lightly, tenderly. “Then don’t let the exception to the rule scare you away from helping those that need it, beautiful.” He squeezes me close again, then whispers, “Can I take you home?”
I nod, sighing. “Yes.”
He stands, pulling me up with him. He swipes under my lashes again, smiling down at me as he does, then kisses my forehead before leading us out the door. When we get to the sidewalk, he leans in close and lets his hand rest on the top curve of my ass, his fingers flexing. And then he’s glaring down at me. I blink up at him, confused by the sudden change.
“Whatever torture device you have on under these clothes that you think you need to keep all of this contained—” he bends low to whisper in my ear, making me shiver, “—take it off and throw it away.”
I blush furiously, laughing up at him. “Xander, I’m not throwing away my spanx, they smooth everything out?—”
He shakes his head as we stop at my minivan. He opens the door and I slide in, but he doesn’t shut the door right away. Instead, he leans in and kisses me deeply, his tongue swirling into my mouth and I can’t help the moan that rumbles out of me.
“You don’t need smoothing out,” he growls low, lips moving directly against mine. “And I want to be able to feel my girl’s body when I touch her.”
I blush all over again. He sips at my lips, then drags his mouth along my jaw and down the side of my neck. He reaches over my left shoulder and pulls the seatbelt across my body, buckling me in, before leaning away. His gaze is hot as he stares at me, making my heart trip all over itself in my chest. He winks, and I swoon.
“I’ll see you at home, Mama .”