Chapter 8 #4
I cross the bay, still in my turnout gear, and crouch in front of them. "Hey."
"Hey you." Her voice is soft, careful not to wake Emma. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah. Elderly guy with chest pains. He'll be fine."
"Good." She reaches out, her free hand touching my face, thumb brushing my cheek. "I'm glad you're back."
Those four words hit me like a freight train. This is what coming home could look like. June waiting. Emma safe in her arms. Someone who cares whether I make it back from every call.
"Me too," I manage, throat tight.
Torres walks past, pausing just long enough to mutter, "Told you. Keeper." Then he's gone—leaving me crouched in front of June and my sleeping daughter, realizing with absolute clarity that I'm in love with her.
It's too soon. We've barely started dating. But standing here, watching June with Emma, seeing the worry fade from her face now that I'm safe—I know.
I'm completely, irrevocably in love with June Callahan.
The realization lands with the force of something inevitable—terrifying and completely, utterly right.
I'm in love with her. Actually, completely in love with this strong, beautiful, resilient woman.
And I have no idea what to do with that information except hold it close and hope I don't screw this up.
The event winds down over the next hour. Families trickle out, kids clutching fire safety coloring books and plastic helmets. The crew starts breaking down stations, folding tables, taking down decorations.
Emma wakes up groggy and clingy, immediately reaching for me. I scoop her up and she buries her face in my neck, still half-asleep.
"Can June come home with us?" she mumbles against my shoulder.
I glance at June, who's helping Kowalski pack up the leftover baked goods. "That's up to June, princess."
"I'd love to," June says, smiling. "But I should get home and clean up my kitchen. I left it a disaster this morning."
Emma pouts but doesn't argue. Too tired.
We walk out together—June carrying her empty bakery boxes, me with Emma on my hip. The afternoon sun cool and bright.
"Thank you for today," I say as we reach her car. "For coming, for the treats, for everything."
"It was fun." June sets down her boxes, turning to face me. "Your crew is great. Emma had the best time. And I—" She pauses, something soft crossing her face. "I liked seeing your world."
I want to kiss her. Want to pull her close right here in the parking lot and tell her I love her. But Emma's in my arms, and it's too soon, and I need to figure out how to say it without scaring her off.
"I'll call you later?" I say instead.
"I'd like that."
She's reaching for her boxes when her phone rings. She pulls it from her pocket, frowning at the screen. "Unknown number."
"Probably spam," I say.
But something makes her answer. "Hello?"
I watch her expression change—confusion first, then fear, flashing across her face so fast it makes my stomach drop.
"Who is this?" Her voice sharpens. "How did you get this number?"
Emma stirs against my shoulder, sensing the tension. I shift her weight, every muscle going tight.
June's hand is shaking as she lowers the phone and hangs up. She stares at it like it's something dangerous.
"What's wrong?" I'm already moving closer.
"Someone—" She stops, taking a breath. "Someone called. Said I should be careful. That firefighters die all the time and I shouldn't get too attached."
Fury floods through me, hot and immediate. "What?"
"They hung up before I could ask anything else." June's trying to sound calm, but her hands are trembling. "It was probably just a prank—"
"That wasn't a prank." My voice comes out harder than I intend, and Emma lifts her head, looking between us with worried eyes.
"Daddy?"
"It's okay, baby." I force my tone softer, rubbing her back. But my eyes stay locked on June. "Did you recognize the voice?"
"No. It was distorted. Like they were using something to disguise it." She wraps her arms around herself, and I hate that she looks scared. Hate that someone made her feel unsafe.
Tyler. Or Sarah. Maybe both. Tyler feeding information to Sarah, Sarah escalating because she knows threatening me directly won't work—so she goes after June instead.
"I'm calling Torres," I say, already shifting Emma to reach for my phone. "We need to document this. File a report—"
"Adam, it's fine." June touches my arm, stopping me. "Really. It's probably nothing."
"It's not nothing." I catch her hand, holding tight. "Someone threatened you, June. Because of me. That's not nothing."
She's quiet for a moment, studying my face. Then softer, "Who do you think it was?"
"Tyler. Or Sarah. Maybe both." The words land like a verdict. "This is exactly the kind of move Sarah would make—go after the people I care about when she can't control me directly."
June's expression shifts. Surprise, then something fierce. "I'm not scared of your ex-wife."
"I know. But I am." The admission costs me. "I'm scared of what she'll do. How far she'll go. And June—if anything happened to you because of me—"
"Nothing's going to happen to me." She steps closer, hand coming up to my face. "We're okay. I'm okay."
But she's not. I can see it in the way she keeps glancing at her phone, the tension still coiled in her shoulders.
I pull her against me—careful of Emma between us—and press a kiss to her temple. "Whoever's doing this just made a serious mistake."
"Adam—"
"I mean it." My voice drops low. "I will protect you. Both of you. No matter what it takes."
June leans into me, and I feel her exhale—some of the tension leaving her body.
But as I hold her, watching the parking lot over her shoulder, one thing is crystal clear.
This isn't over. Whatever game Tyler and Sarah are playing, it just escalated.
And I'll be damned if I let them hurt the woman I love.