Chapter 16
Ifind a random piece of glass beneath the Christmas tree today.
It’s been twelve days since the last time Riker’s men showed up, and I can’t help but notice how comfortable I’ve become with Jordan around.
I’ve never felt this way before, and it took me a few days to realize it.
But now, I feel like he’s always been here. And I always want him here.
I throw the glass away and realize the garbage is full.
I take it out. My mind wanders again. When Jordan is away, nothing is quite right.
Coffee doesn’t taste as good. Sugar is depressed, because Max usually goes with him.
The driveway is a winter wonderland, but it looks strange without his truck.
And I miss the availability of his large warm body.
He breathes sex into my world, and his touch makes me shiver.
Jordan makes me feel capable. In our combat training, he encourages me to try new things, and sometimes I incorporate a dance move into what we’re doing, which always tickles him.
One time, he said I move like Bruce Lee, and I was so happy to hear that, we exchanged training for a different sort of exercise.
I grin as I think back on that afternoon.
My body burns and quakes from the memory.
He’s much more flexible than I originally thought…
Okay, maybe I miss him, too. Not just the sex.
I can’t keep lying to myself about why I want him around.
There’s no point to it. Chances are good that I will be hunted down by Riker anyway, so lying to myself about my feelings doesn’t matter anyway.
I could play games with Jordan, but the fact is that I could be dead any minute now, so what’s the point in playing games?
I should just be honest with him. And myself.
I’ve never let myself be all—in with a guy before. I’m not even sure where to begin. How do you let someone in? He’s already seen me at my worst, so it’s not as though I have to worry about that. My family will like him. As soon as they can meet him.
Which will never happen, so long as Riker is hunting me down.
How can I keep Jordan around while this is going on?
Am I the most selfish person in the world?
How can I ask this of anyone? If he takes a step back from it, then he’ll see it, too.
I sigh. This is crazy. I can’t do this to him.
I need to cut him off. No more sex. No more dinners.
No date—like activities. Just bodyguard duty.
But then he pulls into my driveway, and my doubts fade. By the time he’s at my door, I’m almost giddy. What the hell? I don’t get giddy over a guy. “Good evening.”
He kisses me hello and holds up a paper bag. “I brought supper.”
“You didn’t have to. I could have made something.”
“And now you don’t have to.” He sets the bag on the table, then holds me. “So, you can use your considerable talents for other things.”
“Maybe, but it depends on what you brought me,” I tease him.
He chuckles. “I thought we might try something different—"
“There’s one restaurant in town. How different can you get?”
He smirks. “It is a diner. They do have a variety, you know?”
I wriggle from his grasp and ask, “What did you bring me?”
“They’re trying some new recipes, so I got beef stew.”
“Oh, that sounds wonderful.” And it is. Whoever cooks at the diner has a knack for making comforting, cozy foods. By the time we’ve finished, I have warm soup belly. We’re snuggled up onto the couch, watching the dogs enjoy the stew he poured onto their kibble. I ask, “How was work?”
“Not bad, but I spent a goodly portion of it worrying on you.”
“You always say that.”
“It’s always true.”
I smile. “Anything exciting happen?”
“Thinking about you.”
I roll my eyes. “You know what I mean.”
“Nope. And that’s just how I like it. A boring day at the firehouse is always a good day.”
“Makes sense. But you ever think of doing something else? Something more interesting?”
He shakes his head. “I’ve had more than enough excitement for a lifetime. No need for all that now.”
I should say something about not dating. Or whatever we are. Maybe I should stop snuggling him, if I’m going to do this right. But I’m so cozy right now. “If you’re done with excitement, then why are you helping Wes? With me?”
“He asked for a favor and I’m enjoying it, so I’m still doing it.”
I lean off him and look him in the eye. “I’m a favor?”
He smirks and tilts his head. “Do you really believe that?”
I shrug. “I’m certainly not un—exciting, Jordan. I mean, my life is not like other people’s lives. And if you want boring, then why—"
He kisses me. “Stella, you know why I’m here.”
I swallow hard. “I do?”
Jordan strokes the side of my face. “I would hope so.” Then he kisses me and lunges, so my back hits the seat of the couch.
“Mm, wait.” I give a gentle push back. “I hate to say it, but I overindulged on the stew and if this goes any further, I might throw up.”
He laughs. “I’m sorry, Sweetheart.” He sits up. “Maybe an early bedtime?”
I smile and nod. “I have a belly full of stew, it’s a snowy night, and I could use a good nuzzle in a warm bed. How about you?”
“Sounds like a nice night to me.” He stands up and reaches out for me. “Let’s go.”
I let him help me to my feet, and we let the dogs out, before cuddling up for the night. It’s odd, but between his and the dogs’ snores, I’m out like a light. So, when his phone goes off near midnight, we all jump. He answers, “Yeah? Be right there.” Then he quietly says, “Stella, you up?”
“I’m up, I’m up. What’s going on?”
“Just got a call from Michael,” he says as he dresses. “There’s a fire.”
“Oh. How can I help?”
“Watch Max?”
“Of course.”
“I’m really sorry about this, I just—"
“Don’t worry about it.”
He’s out the door before I know it. I climb the stairs up to my bedroom and everything is dark inside.
Suddenly, my bed is cold. I pat the bed and tell them, “Come on up. He’s gone for the night.
” The dogs pile in, and it’s warm again, but not like when Jordan’s there.
In spite of the lack of him, their rhythmic snoring is enough to knock me out again.
I don’t know what time it is when I hear the noises.
The dogs perk up, too. “Let’s go check it out.
Come on.” I grab the Sig from the nightstand and the dogs follow me downstairs.
There is a scratching sound at the door.
My hands shake as I raise the gun. I shout, “I’m armed, and I will shoot you in the face! ”
“It’s me!” Jordan shouts back.
The tension in my body fades while I turn off the alarm, spin the locks, and open the door. The smoke on him wafts into my face, and I almost choke on it. He looks awful, all covered in soot and deeply upset. I hold the door open wide, “Get in here.”
“Sorry about the door, I thought I could maybe get in without waking you. I’m sorry for scaring you and the dogs.”
“That’s alright, don’t worry about it, honey. What happened?”
He slumps into a chair at the dinner table. His voice is scratchy. I’m not sure if it’s from the smoke or not. I imagine the guys have to shout when they’re on scene, so maybe it’s that. But he’s super tense, so I’m not asking anything right now. He says, “Bourbon?”
“On it.” I pour him a glass and sit with him.
“The fire was at the Hannigan House. They’re a big family. Mom, Dad, four kids. They’re all alive,” he runs his fingers through his hair, “but they’ve lost everything they had.”
I pat his hand. “At least, they have each other.”
He drinks his bourbon in one go. “Yeah. At least.”
“All the other firefighters are okay?”
He nods.
“You seem really shaken by everything.”
He gives half a smile, then says, “This is the first fire for us together. I should have warned you…it’s a lot. On me.”
“How’s that? I mean, I get that it’s hard, but—"
He shakes his head, and his eyes stay on his bourbon.
“You show up, get to the truck, and Michael gives you the assessment. Then you go from there, except it’s never just whatever he says, because fires are unpredictable, impossible things.
They have a mind of their own.” He drinks it all down.
“More, please.” He wiggles his glass at me.
I fill it up, and he continues. “So, you’ve got the hose, and you’re working the fire, hoping everyone is out, hoping you don’t find a corpse in the rubble, hoping you don’t lose a brother, and it’s that last one that makes you feel like an asshole. ”
I shake my head, “I don’t understand. What do you mean?”
“My brothers on the truck, the other firefighters…if I lose one of them during the fire, that’s one less pair of hands to help, which raises my chances of dying on the job. Like I said. Asshole.”
“You’re not an asshole for wanting to live.”
He shrugs his thick shoulders. “Doesn’t matter…I think the church is going to put together something for the Hannigans, and they have insurance, so they should be okay. But it’s just…right before Christmas, you know?”
My heart breaks when his voice cracks, and I realize that in addition to everything he just said, he sees this as another family’s Christmas ruined. “Any idea what caused the fire?”
“Flame rollout from a cracked heat exchange in the furnace. That’s why maintenance is important enough that we host a town hall on HVAC upkeep every year.
But heat exchanges can also just crack without any neglect, so there’s really only so much we can do.
I mean, it’s really rare, but it happens.
And now, I’m rambling. I’m sorry.” He stands up. “I need a shower.”
“Okay. Let’s get you in the shower.”
“If you don’t mind,” he holds his hand out at me in a stop gesture and shakes his head. “I’d like to shower alone.”
“Not at all. Whatever you need.”