Chapter Twenty-Five Tori
Chapter Twenty-Five
Tori
Four days later
“Come on back,” Maisie said, gesturing for me to follow her.
I trailed her down the hallway at the fire station into the back area, glancing around curiously.
There was a locker room and a glimpse of showers through a door to one side.
The hallway opened up to an area with a kitchen and a large table, a glassed-in workout room, and a lounging area with a large sectional and a flat screen TV mounted on the wall.
“It’s nice back here,” I commented.
Maisie tossed a grin over her shoulder, her dark curls bouncing in her ponytail. “They try to make it comfortable. Guys will sleep here sometimes, but not officially. Even the local crew, mostly they just respond when they’re paged.”
“How much longer until they get here?” I asked.
We walked through the back door and stepped into the sunshine, where I discovered a small cluster of friends already waiting. Madison, Tish, Stella, Luna, and Casey were all gathered as Maisie and I approached. “Wow. It’s a party.”
“It’s been almost a month,” Casey said with a dramatic sigh. “I knew what I was signing up for, but damn, it’s inconvenient to be in love with a firefighter. Especially a hotshot.”
Maisie nodded. “You do get used to it.” She paused, tapping her fingertips on her chin.
“I think the absence—okay, I’m not trying to be cheesy—doesn’t exactly make the heart grow fonder, but it definitely gives you more gratitude when they’re home.
You learn to savor every moment.” She rolled her eyes. “Okay, that was a little cheesy.”
Just then, the distant thrum of a helicopter reached us. A few minutes later, it landed, sending up a swirl of dust in the wind created by the propellers. Firefighters spilled out, hefting heavy gear as they stepped into the parking area.
I had one arm curled around my waist and the other nervously fiddling with the neck of my T-shirt. I was impatient. I wanted to see Kincaid. For the first time in days, I didn’t obsess over the news I hadn’t yet shared with anyone other than my dog.
When he finally climbed out of the aircraft, he was laughing at something Leo said. But the moment Leo spotted Casey and peeled off, Kincaid’s attention shifted, his gaze arcing around.
His eyes locked on mine, and my heart flipped in my chest, slamming against my ribs as if clapping in joy. I didn’t even realize I’d started running until he was moving toward me with long, purposeful strides. He met me halfway and pulled me into a strong, fast hug.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he murmured, his hand cupping the back of my head, holding me tight.
My throat closed with emotion. I could feel the press of tears threatening, but I forced myself to take a few long breaths—breathing him in, grounding myself—before I stepped back.
“Hey,” I said softly. “I missed you.” Well, that was more direct than I’d intended.
He tipped his head slightly, a slow smile unfurling across his face. “I missed you, too. I probably smell like smoke and dirt.”
“You definitely smell like smoke and dirt,” Beck said dryly as he walked past, one arm slung around Maisie’s shoulders and a backpack over his other shoulder.
Kincaid chuckled. “Yeah, I do. Let me grab my bag.”
There were jokes and quips being tossed around as everyone made their way into the station. Once we were in the hallway, he caught my hand and walked beside me.
“Should I shower here?” he asked.
“What would you usually do?” I returned, trying not to care. Honestly, I didn’t. I didn’t care that he smelled like smoke and dirt . I was just glad he was back.
“I’d shower here.”
“Well, then go for it.”
“All right. Give me ten minutes. I’ll meet you out back,” he replied.
“I have Bella with me. I’ll take her out for a pee break.”
Bella was ecstatic to see Kincaid a little while later, wiggling and spinning in clumsy circles at his feet. He knelt to greet her, stroking his hands gently over her ears and pressing a kiss to her forehead.
“Good to see you, sweet girl,” he said as he stood, grinning at me. “Dogs are the best.”
“Dogs are the best,” I agreed. “And, Bella in particular is the very best.” I meant every word.
When he climbed into the car beside me and I started driving, I felt fragile in a way I hadn’t expected.
Maybe because I’d missed him more than I realized.
Maybe because I had half-admitted to myself that I was falling in love with him.
And maybe because the secret I carried inside me felt huge.
I had already surprised myself with the decision I’d made.
I wanted this baby. It was so unexpected. If you had asked me before it happened—before I saw those two blue lines—if I would have made this decision, I would have said absolutely not. I one hundred percent would have chosen to have an abortion, hypothetically speaking.
While I would always be in support of a woman’s right to make her own choices about having a baby, my heart wanted something else in this moment. My heart wanted this baby. Wrapped up inside that wish was wanting this baby with Kincaid.
I was terrified. Because I didn’t know what he wanted.
“How was the job, I guess?” I asked, my voice a little too bright and hitching on what to call his travel away.
Kincaid reached over, catching my hand where it rested on the center console, and laced his fingers through mine. He gave a warm squeeze. “Well, the fire’s out.”
A laugh slipped out. “That’s the whole point, right?”
When I slid my gaze to his and caught the teasing glint in his eyes, my belly fluttered with a rush of nerves and anticipation.
“That is the point,” he said, grinning. “But it’s not always what happens, actually.
Sometimes we go in for a rotation, get one section under control, and then roll out when another crew tags in.
In this case, we got it close enough to one hundred percent containment on our side—with crews from Fairbanks on the other—that they kept us out longer to finish the job. ”
“Well, good.” I smiled, stealing a longer glance at him. “Do you like your job?” I asked, genuinely curious.
Obviously, I knew the basics of what being a hotshot firefighter meant. We’d talked about it here and there, but not really in detail.
He paused for a beat. “Yeah, I do,” he answered.
“I got into it because I like being outdoors, and it seemed like a good way to do that.” He shrugged, and I could feel the motion rather than see it since I was driving.
“Sometimes I wonder if I should keep doing it long-term, especially with my mom’s health.
But she keeps insisting she doesn’t need me to stay home all the time. ”
“I think you just do what works for you for the time being,” I offered. “If at some point she does need you, I know you’ll be there.” I glanced over at him again. “I know this about you.”
It should have surprised me that I trusted him that way.
That I knew, without any doubts, that I could trust him to take care of his mom, that I trusted his loyalty.
And yet, when it came to me—to us—I couldn’t find the same confidence.
I couldn’t quite believe in the connection.
I couldn’t trust that anyone would really be there for me the way he tried to be there for his mom.
“That’s pretty much how I’ve tried to think about it,” he said.
Quiet settled between us, and I could hear the beat of my heart kicking along inside my chest.
“I missed you, Tori,” he said softly.
I glanced at him, and my heart felt cracked wide open—emotion flooding in so fast it made my chest ache. I dragged my gaze back to the road.
“I missed you, too,” I managed, my throat tight with emotion.
He gave my hand another slow squeeze.
I looked back toward him, meeting that rich brown gaze for half a heartbeat before I started to turn ahead.
“Moose!” he exclaimed.
I slammed my foot on the brakes. My attention jerked forward just in time to see a massive bull moose sauntering across the road ahead of us. We both watched in silence as the animal took its time—one slow step after another—before it paused at the edge of the trees to nibble on some alder.
“Take your time,” I muttered under my breath.
“Rude,” Kincaid teased, his chuckle rumbling across my nerves, which were already strung tight.
“I always wonder if it’s impolite to honk at moose,” I said.
“Probably not,” he offered dryly.
I gave the horn a gentle tap. The moose lifted its head, his antlers swinging toward us with majestic disinterest. He eyed us for a long moment and then—without any actual movement that resembled a shrug—definitely seemed to shrug before disappearing into the trees.
I eased the car forward again. When we got back to my house, Bella immediately curled up in her bed and fell asleep after a bathroom break in the yard.
I suddenly felt unaccountably nervous. Kincaid and I weren’t brand new to each other anymore, but we were still new in our connection. He’d been gone for almost a month.
Everything felt fresh again. Like the next step might be one we couldn’t take back.
I stood there uncertainly, looking over at him. He caught my hand and reeled me close, palming a cheek as he looked down into my eyes. “I missed you,” he whispered, just before he claimed my mouth with a kiss.
It started slow, and then we were tumbling into the fire that was so intoxicating. Our clothes came off in a messy rush, and he bent me over the kitchen counter, his palms sliding down over my bottom as he murmured, “I missed you, sweetheart.”
When I heard the familiar sound of him rolling a condom on, it was all I could do not to tell him there was no point.
But I kept that thought silent, and let out a soft sigh of relief as he filled me in a slow surge.
My release was already threatening, like lightning cracking across the sky before a storm.
With each time he filled me, I heard myself panting his name before he reached around and teased me exactly where I needed it.
On the heels of that, I was crying out and shuddering, savoring the sharp pleasure and the sound of him saying my name in a ragged voice as he jerked against me.