Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
JESSE
I rolled over with a frustrated groan. I couldn’t sleep. The room was dark and quiet—I had taken advantage of the empty private room and chosen to sleep here for a change, thinking it would help. I had barely slept last night without Casey tucked against me.
And despite my being exhausted, tonight didn’t look much better.
I tucked an arm under my head, thinking of the past few days.
Casey had been surprisingly emotional, crying a few times, staring at the pictures she’d found of Lou.
Rereading the journal. I knew she was mourning the loss of the woman she’d loved and lost so long ago, finally able to do so as an adult.
The bittersweet part of it was reconnecting but never being able to be together.
I’d tried to figure out ways to help. I let her plant the flowers in the urns and didn’t grumble too much about having blooms on my side of the porch.
I’d purposely laughed at the welcome mat she’d put outside the front door, not reminding her I used the back door, as did most of my visitors.
It took everything in me not to tear down the wreath she hung on my door.
I did suggest she was taking advantage of my good side by doing so, and she had scoffed—loudly.
“You don’t really have a good side, Thorne.”
She was right most of the time.
And I had to admit, the wreath made of knotted rope was masculine and looked decent on the door.
I had, however, expressed my displeasure in gentle terms.
“Dammit, Pix. I said no wreath on my door!”
“But it’s manly.”
“There is nothing manly about a wreath,” I insisted, crossing my arms, preparing to go to battle on this one.
“I had it made special,” she murmured. “No greenery, flowers, or bows. It’s kinda nautical, really.”
“Does this look like a boat?” I demanded.
“I couldn’t figure out a firefighter wreath. A wrapped hose wouldn’t look good,” she explained patiently as if I were a six-year-old.
At the hurt look on her face, I felt my annoyance slip away.
“Fine,” I huffed. “I’ll get used to it.”
Her face brightened. “I can jazz it up for holidays!”
She spun on her heel and disappeared into the house.
I dropped my head, already worried about what “jazz it up” meant.
I had a feeling I wouldn’t like it.
But for that moment, she smiled, and I decided that I would argue about it then.
For the first time that I could recall, I hated leaving to go for my shift. Miller was with her, and I knew she was busy with work. Still, I loathed going.
It felt weird to worry about someone, but I worried about Casey constantly, it seemed. If she was working too hard. I wondered if she was eating. Was she warm enough at night? Was she sleeping in my bed or her own? I had never asked her that question.
I picked up my phone, deciding midnight wasn’t too late to call her. She answered right away.
“Hey.”
“Hi,” I murmured. “You okay?”
She chuckled. “I’m fine. You?”
I grunted.
“Can’t sleep?” she asked.
“No. I even bunked in the quiet room, but I can’t sleep.”
“Want me to come there and you can smuggle me in? I can help you relax.”
I shut my eyes as I laughed. “Pixie, this place is covered in cameras on all the doors and bays. Sneaking you in is almost impossible.”
“Damn.”
“But if I could, I would,” I admitted.
We were quiet for a minute.
“Why can’t you sleep?” she asked. “You must be tired.”
“You’re not here,” I said honestly.
“I kinda feel the same.”
“Where are you?” I asked.
“In bed.”
“Whose bed?”
“I don’t know if I want to tell you.”
“Mine? Tell me you’re in mine,” I demanded.
“I’m in yours. The sheets smell like you. It helps.”
I groaned. “I get it.”
“Maybe you should smuggle my pillow in next shift.”
“Damn good suggestion.”
She sighed. “I know. I’m brilliant.”
“You are.”
She hummed then sighed. “About our date…”
“Yeah?”
“You still want me to wear the dress?”
“I’m counting on it.”
“Okay.”
I heard her yawn, and I smiled ruefully. “Go to sleep, Pix.”
“Do you want me to stay on the line and talk to you until you fall asleep?” she offered.
Something warmed inside me at her suggestion. It was sweet and thoughtful. Then she made me laugh.
“Or I could talk dirty to you until your hose deflates and you can sleep.”
“Who says my hose is inflated?”
“You’re lying in bed thinking of me. I’m sure it is.”
I couldn’t deny a semi at the thought of her talking dirty to me. It wouldn’t take much to be ready to go. But I refused to give her the satisfaction. “You’re not all that sexy, Casey.”
“Whatever, Thorne. I bump against you by accident, and we have lift-off.” She paused. “And it would work if I told you I had a bubble bath earlier. I was all hot, wet, and steamy.” Her voice dropped. “And I thought of you the whole time.”
Dammit. She was right. I was hard now.
I tucked the phone between my ear and shoulder and fisted my cock. “Talk to me, baby.”
I straightened my tie, checking my reflection. I smoothed down my hair and ran my hand over my jaw, feeling the scruff. I had to be clean-shaven for the job, but on my days off, I liked to let the beard grow. And Casey liked it too.
For more than one reason.
I was looking forward to this evening. Our first official date.
I had dinner reservations one town over at a nice steak house.
I had wondered about adding something else, but I knew by the time dinner was done I would be pretty wiped, but I did plan on rocking her world when we got home. At least twice.
I hoped that counted.
I hurried downstairs, picked up the flowers, and went to her front door, knocking. It took a minute for her to answer, and she looked confused.
“What are you doing?”
“Picking you up for our date.”
“You could have come through the closet.”
“Nope. I wanted to do it right.” I held out the flowers. “For you.”
She took the flowers and stepped back, waiting for me to come in. “I need to get a vase.”
I followed her to the kitchen, admiring the way the dress showed off her back. I wanted to run my fingers down her spine and feel the shiver I knew it would evoke, but I resisted. I reached over her head, grabbing the vase she was peering up at and handing it to her.
She smiled, looking almost shy, and rose up on her tiptoes to kiss my cheek. “Thank you.”
I replied by tugging her close and kissing her sweet mouth. “You look beautiful.”
“It’s the dress.”
I kissed her again. “It’s you.”
She patted my chest. “So far, this is the best date ever.”
I winked. “Yeah, it is.”
Casey looked across the table at me, the low lights around us making the candles flickering on the table seem brighter.
They highlighted her cheekbones, playing over her features in a soft way that made her even prettier than usual.
She wore her hair up again, the style accentuating the delicate line of her neck.
I planned on kissing every inch of it when we got home.
“You’re quieter than usual,” she observed.
“Sorry. Had a long talk with the chief. Shifts are changing.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“Not necessarily. Right now, I’m the only guy who does the three-on, four-off.
I’ve been building up my extra time, planning on adding it on close to retirement.
He allowed it because, at the time, staffing was cut due to budgets.
I don’t get extra pay, just bank the hours.
But it’s been determined from the higher-ups that it’s no longer allowed since we have enough people again. So it’s back to two-on, four-off.”
“Oh.”
I rubbed my jaw. “It’s fine. I’ve only been doing it for about a year, so no big deal. I’m single, so it wasn’t a hardship. The married ones prefer being home at night.”
“Makes sense.”
Our appetizers arrived, and the scent of the garlic shrimp wafted between us. My stomach growled, and we dug in, the seafood delicious.
“How many firefighters are there? I was surprised the other day—there seemed to be more than I expected.”
I grinned, feeling self-conscious. “We’re a small station, and we rely on volunteer firefighters to help keep costs down. My being there a third night actually worked well since you can’t depend on them consistently. Sometimes they’re not available to come help. But they’re part of us.”
“Does every station have volunteers?”
“Some small towns only have volunteers, aside from a captain.”
“Maybe I should become one.”
I paused, my last shrimp hanging in the air. “Lots of heights, climbing, and heavy lifting.”
“Never mind, then.”
I chuckled. “You’d rock the gear, Pixie.”
She laughed. “I think I’ll leave that to you, Thorne.”
I decided that was a good idea. I wasn’t sure I could handle Casey around the station—or going out to an incident. I’d be far too worried to concentrate.
I winked at her. “Good plan.”
The rest of the meal was incredible, and we shared our mains. I had steak, and she ordered grilled halibut. Both were equally enjoyable. I laughed when she informed me she wasn’t sharing her dessert.
“Crème br?lée, Thorne. Not a chance.”
I ordered the apple crisp, once again amused as she dipped her spoon into my dish, while keeping hers out of reach. She hummed around a mouthful. “Delicious.” She winked.
“I noticed the other day after the truck pulled in, you didn’t come inside right away,” she said. “I wondered why?”
“As soon as we return from an incident, our first priority is to refurbish the truck. Fill the water and air tanks, clean and rewind the hoses. Everything needs to be ready in case we have to head out again. Some days we do that over and over. Other days, it happens once. You never know, so you have to be prepared. We work as a team, so it only takes about fifteen minutes, usually.” I took a bite of my crisp, enjoying the bite of the cinnamon and the sweetness of the apple.
“Plus, each of us is responsible for our PPE.”
At her questioning look, I smiled. “Personal protection equipment.”
“Ah.”
“Sometimes it needs cleaning, and we always need to make sure our breathing apparatus is fully filled.”
“Oxygen?” she guessed.