CHAPTER TWENTY
T revor woke after a fitful night of sleep in his childhood bed. Legs hanging off the side, neck at an awkward angle, he struggled to sit up. His head ached and his mouth tasted of soot. Reaching for his water glass, he chugged it so fast it started a coughing fit. He doubled over as he hacked and gagged, throat burning.
Yet for all the physical pain he suffered, nothing compared to losing Whitney. His phone remained free of messages, and the open guestroom door confirmed she hadn’t returned. When he’d finally found a phone charger, he was devasted to see nothing from Whitney. Heck, he would have welcomed a Go to Hell message over silence.
Trevor went to the bathroom and took a long, hot shower. The steam did little to soothe his throat, but he didn’t care. He slid on his gym shorts and a Pinegrove FD T-shirt, then joined his mother in the kitchen.
Well, his mother and Paul.
“Morning, son,” Paul said, clad in his pajamas. The sight would usually have shocked Trevor, but instead it relaxed him. At least someone in this family found love.
Despite this, Trevor didn’t miss how the chief hurriedly folded and hid the newspaper. He shuddered to think what the other man was hiding. He was too wrung out for more bad news.
Daisy flitted around the kitchen, flipping hotcakes and squeezing oranges for juice. “Good morning, sugar. You’re looking better than I expected.” She paused her juice making to pour him a cup of coffee. “Slow sips, remember? Sit down.”
Paul pulled out a chair and patted the seat. “Best do as she says.” He chuckled. “But seriously, how are you feeling?”
Trevor collapsed into his chair and rubbed at his throat. It was as raw as an undercooked hamburger, but it was also the least of his problems. He stared unblinking at the chair that had quickly become Whitney’s. He missed seeing her smile over a plate of eggs, missed how she’d tease him over a slice of pie. Lord, he just missed her.
Vocal cords would heal, but he wasn’t so sure about his heart.
“Fine,” he mumbled, slurping from his coffee and burning his tongue. He truly could not win this morning.
Daisy plated the pancakes and placed the platter between her two firemen. “Eat up while they’re hot.” She handed a spatula to Paul, who loaded up Trevor’s plate before his own.
“Here we go. Eat up, son. You heard the EMTs, we both need our strength.” Paul chortled, causing a coughing fit that had Daisy by his side. She patted his back and thrust a glass of ice water into his hand.
The commotion caused the newspaper to fall onto the floor, splaying open to the front page. Trevor would gladly run into ten thousand burning buildings without his bunker gear to avoid seeing the image before him.
Splashed across the paper was a scene from last night. Trevor, half delirious and covered in soot, hunched over on the gurney. Next to him stood Virginia, leaning close to whisper in his ear. It had been when she’d inquired about Scott, but that wasn’t what it looked like. The picture looked like a couple, sharing a moment after a horrific event. Just great ...
Daisy snatched the paper from his hands, balling it up and tossing it into the trashcan. “You weren’t supposed to see that,” she ground out.
Paul winced as he collected himself. “It’s my fault. As soon as I saw that, I should have burned it out back in the leaf pile.”
Trevor laughed, but there wasn’t an ounce of humor. “Don’t worry about it. It’s the cherry on this shit sundae.” Flinching, he turned and apologized to his momma. “Sorry.”
Daisy rolled her eyes. “I’ll let the language at the breakfast table slide today.”
“Thanks, Momma. Have you heard from Whitney?” he asked, unable to dig into his breakfast. Despite the fact his momma made the best hotcakes east of the Mississippi, he knew they’d taste like cardboard.
Daisy’s smile slid away, and Trevor knew that was a bad sign. “Actually, I haven’t. I tried calling her again this morning, but her phone went straight to voicemail.”
Trevor ran his hands down his face and groaned, then immediately regretted it when it caused a coughing fit. “This is a nightmare. How can I find her? Do you think she’s already back in Savannah?”
A rattling at the front door had Trevor’s heart soaring, until Javi stuck his head inside. “Good morning!” he cheered, clapping the chief on the shoulder and pecking Daisy on the cheek. “Am I too late for breakfast?”
Daisy tittered. “Never, Javi. Take a seat, we’re just digging in.”
Javi pulled a napkin and tucked it into his collar, piercing a couple pancakes and dropping them onto his plate. “Mmm, I’m so glad. I could smell that bacon from the street.”
The mention of bacon brought Gus shuffling back into the room. He settled at Javi’s feet, eagerly awaiting a treat. As soon as no one was looking, Javi tossed a slice to the hound, who scarfed it down in record time.
“What are we talking about? The crisis in the Middle East? The traffic caused by the fireworks festival?” He raised an eyebrow at Paul, who only shook his head.
“You never cease to amaze me, Ortiz.” Paul nudged Javi with his elbow. “We were actually pondering the whereabouts of a certain curly-haired woman.”
Through a mouthful of pancakes, Javi said, “She’s at Kim’s Creations.”
Trevor nearly fell out of his chair. “She’s still in town? How do you know that?”
Javi raised a shoulder. “Um, I saw her car outside of the shop? Call me Columbo.”
“I’ve got to go talk to her,” Trevor said, jumping to his feet and causing another round of coughing.
Daisy tutted and poured another glass of ice water. “Sit down,” she ordered.
Trevor was annoyed. “But, Momma! I need to go see Whitney.”
Daisy wasn’t having it. “Sit. Down. If Whitney’s at the shop, she’s not leaving anytime soon. Why don’t we all take a moment and come up with a plan?”
“I’m with Ms. Daisy,” Javi chimed in, already snaking another three pancakes from the platter. “We need to see Smithy, too. I’m sure he’s going crazy in the hospital.”
A pang of guilt surged through Trevor at the notion his buddy was in need. How easily he forgot everyone else when Whitney was involved.
Unable to let the topic of Whitney go, Javi asked, “Did y’all see the Pinegrove Herald this morning?” He shot a look to Trevor. “You need to come ready to grovel, man. Whitney needs more than flowers this time.”
Trevor covered his face and groaned, nearly choking on his own discomfort. “Why can’t I do anything right with this woman?”
“You want some free advice?” Javi asked, earning him a swat from Daisy.
“Javi, please don’t take this the wrong way, but I think Trevor could use advice from someone with more experience with women.”
Now Paul couldn’t control himself. “Daisy, I um, don’t mean to correct you in your own home,” he said, turning to Javi. “And, Ortiz, I don’t mean to call your dating history into question, but...”
“What Chief is trying to say is that you have too much experience with women,” Trevor jibed, unable to hold back his smirk.
Javi was undeterred, happily chomping away on his breakfast. “Fine, fine. Be that way, I’m only trying to help.”
“You want to help? Drive me over to the shop.”
“All in good time, man. I think we need to see Smithy on the way.”
Daisy poured juice for all three men and nodded her approval. “I think that’s a good idea. I made the mistake of calling Jessie last night when Malcolm was admitted, and I think she’s coming home.”
Suddenly his love life was the last thing on his mind. “Jessie’s coming home?”
Javi leaned forward. “For Smithy?” Daisy merely lifted a shoulder before topping off everyone’s coffee.
Since Trevor had come around to his momma and the chief dating, he decided to spare himself the questions involving his sister’s love life. It was painfully clear that Smithy still held a torch for Jessie, and judging from everyone’s expressions in this kitchen, it was common knowledge.
“Does Smithy know?” Trevor asked.
Daisy shook her head. “Not that I’m aware of, but maybe the good news will lift his spirits? He’s got a long recovery ahead of him, I’m afraid.”
The room fell silent as everyone acknowledged Smithy was lucky to have gotten out with relatively minimal injuries.
“Let’s eat and go visit Smithy. Then Ortiz can take you to see Whitney. I’m sure the poor girl needs a grand ...” Paul trailed off, flapping a hand in the air. He turned to Daisy, and asked, “What do you call those things in your romance books, honey?”
Daisy beamed. “Grand gestures. Let me help, sugar.” Sprinting from the kitchen, Daisy returned a moment later with an armful of books. She dropped the stack in front of her son, tapping the top book with her finger. “You can start reading in the car, but these are some of Whitney’s favorites.”
Javi reached out and took a book, randomly flipping through until he found a spicy scene. “Woah! Ms. Daisy, you’ve been holding out on us. This is hot!” Javi fanned himself with the book, earning a shoulder punch from Trevor.
“Give me five minutes to change, then we can head out.”
Shooing away Paul’s attempts at tidying up, Daisy whistled for Gus to go outside. “Wheels up in five, y’all! It’s time for a happily ever after!”
––––––––
T revor tried not to get car sick on the drive to the hospital. He paged through book after book, desperate to find something he could do to make an impression on Whitney. He’d already brought her flowers and bared his soul before, sharing parts of himself that hadn’t been seen outside his therapist’s office. Yet, he knew he needed to do more.
Javi hit a bump in the road, and the stack of books slid from Trevor’s lap. “Geez, man, careful. It’s like I’m cramming for a final exam over here.”
Muttering some choice profanities, Javi took the next turn a little faster than necessary. “You need to make up your mind, Trev. Am I going fast or slow?” He shot a warning glance at Trevor, who had the decency to look embarrassed. His buddy was right. Not two minutes ago he begged Javi to break the speed limit by double digits.
“Sorry,” he muttered, retrieving one of the books by Darla Champaign. Wasn’t this one of the ones his mother and Whitney were yapping about? He opened the book and flipped to the back, hoping it would have bold print reading DO THIS TO FIX YOUR RELATIONSHIP, MEATHEAD.
Unfortunately for Trevor, all he saw was a sex scene far wilder than anything he’d expected. Snapping the book shut, he tossed it in the backseat like it was on fire. “I did not need to see that.” He cringed, earning a raised eyebrow from Javi.
“Do I want to know?”
Trevor pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Let’s just say, I was happier before I knew Momma read that smut.”
Without taking his eyes off the road, Javi reached back and snagged the book, tossing it into the compartment on the door. “I’ll borrow that one.” When Trevor scoffed, he lifted an eyebrow. “I can do research, too.”
“Brother, given your track record, I have a feeling you could write that stuff.” Trevor laughed for the first time all morning. It felt good, until the racking cough returned with a vengeance.
Javi gestured to the glove box. “I’ve got some lozenges in there. Help yourself.”
“Thanks,” Trevor said, grabbing a handful and popping two in his mouth. They finally reached the hospital parking lot, and Javi parked near the entrance. For a moment, neither man got out of the car. His plan to woo Whitney back was temporarily forgotten as Trevor prepared to see his friend.
Smithy was a tough guy, but he was also a marshmallow. He was the first one to help those in need, and that extended far beyond his work at the station. Trevor hated knowing someone so nice could be in so much pain. Despite not wanting to get involved in his sister’s love life, he was relieved to know Jessie was coming home. Smithy needed something to look forward to.
Javi let out a shuddering breath, his hands still gripping the steering wheel. “He’s gonna be okay, right?”
His question wasn’t directed at Trevor, and he was glad—he didn’t have an answer. All reports from the chief made it sound like he’d make a full recovery, but it still hurt to see a brother in arms laid up from the job.
Trevor ran his hands through his hair, tugging on the roots as he caught his breath. “Smithy’s strong. He’ll be fine.”
“You’re right,” Javi quickly agreed, unlocking his truck and hopping out before Trevor had a chance to unbuckle. He fished his phone out of his pocket, scrolling through his texts. “Looks like Smithy is in room 212.”
Trevor led the way to the nurse’s station where they signed in and got visitors badges. He could tell Javi was nervous, because the nurse was a total smoke show and the other man didn’t even blink. If this was yesterday, he’d already have her number and their first date on the books.
When they arrived at Smithy’s room, Paul and Daisy were already inside with a few of the others from the station. Maxwell sat in a chair with her toddler Juniper in her lap. She had some bandages over the scrapes and minor burns she’d received, but compared to Smithy she was unharmed.
“Hey,” Smithy said, voice low and hoarse. “I was wondering when y’all would get here.” His raspy tenor broke another part of Trevor’s heart. Gone was the jovial marshmallow, in its place was a husk of the man. His smile was forced, partially hidden behind a gauze strip on his cheek.
One of Smithy’s legs was in a type of hammock, hanging from an apparatus in the ceiling. His left arm was in an air cast, secured to his side with a scary-looking plastic brace. Javi closed the distance, kneeling down to give his friend an awkward hug, keeping mindful of all the barriers between them. “Of course, Smithy. Nowhere else we’d rather be.”
Trevor waved awkwardly before giving Smithy’s good hand a fist bump. “How are you feeling?” He immediately grimaced. “I mean, I’m guessing like shit.”
Smithy chuckled, then started coughing. Between the whole crew, none of them currently had a working set of lungs. “Listen to us,” Maxwell said with a sigh. She moved her toddler over to her other side and stood, offering her chair to Daisy.
“Sugar, take that seat. You’ve got this one to carry.” Daisy stooped down and tickled Juniper’s belly. She giggled and wiggled until Maxwell gave up and put her down.
“No running around, remember what Mommy said?”
Juniper nodded solemnly, wrapping her arms around Maxwell’s leg. “Stay with Mommy,” she said in a tiny voice.
Clearly he wasn’t the only one affected by the toddler’s presence, as both Paul and Daisy were on their knees talking to her and offering her money for the vending machine.
Javi nudged Trevor with his elbow, then gestured at the scene. “You better hope you can patch things up with Whitney, because it looks like Ms. Daisy is ready for grandbabies.”
Daisy didn’t bother looking up from her spot on the floor. “Pfft, please, sugar. I’ve been ready since Trevor graduated from the academy.”
The group fell into discussion of random topics, anything to keep Smithy’s spirits up. “When do your folks arrive?” Chief asked, leaning against the wall.
“Tomorrow—they’re flying in from Tennessee.” Smithy, an only child, wouldn’t be able to keep his parents away if he tried. “Guess I’ll have to get used to more visitors,” he mumbled, resting his head back on his pillows.
Daisy cleared her throat. “Speaking of other visitors. I spoke with Jessie, and she’s coming back for a visit by the end of the week.”
That news got Smithy’s attention, and he nearly catapulted off the bed, beeps and blips erupting from the machines surrounding him. “JJ’s coming home?” His eyes shone with excitement, and Trevor could relate to that feeling. When someone had your heart, it was impossible not to want to be near them, not to love them.
Love? Did he love Whitney already? The ache in his ribcage told him he did, but he knew it was too soon to utter those three little words. It’d barely been two weeks since she stumbled into his life, but Trevor had gone full caveman, needing to stake his claim.
They spent an hour with Smithy until his eyes grew heavy and the nurse shooed everyone out so he could rest. On their way out of the hospital, Trevor stopped by the gift shop and bought the last bouquet of roses they had. Snatching a box of chocolates, he tossed a stack of bills on the counter and told the bored clerk to keep the change.
“Geez, man. I thought you weren’t doing flowers again,” Javi teased.
Trevor scoffed. “It can’t possibly hurt.”
Javi scanned around the giftshop, hands on his hips. “I’ll meet you at the truck in a minute,” he said, not giving Trevor his full attention.
Already antsy to see Whitney, Trevor simply shrugged and headed to the parking lot, his grip on the flowers nearly crushing the stems.
Less than five minutes later, Javi arrived with a bundle of balloons and a shit-eating grin. “What the heck is this?”
Javi clapped him on the back, still grinning. “It’s call a grand gesture, so I improvised.” Opening the back seat, he carefully shoved the balloons inside. “C’mon. Let’s go get your girl.”
On shaking legs, he slid back into the truck and prayed that he’d come up with the perfect thing to say by the time they arrived. Not only did he need to set the record straight about Virginia, but he needed to convince Whitney to stay.
Pinegrove, and his life, would lose their sparkle if Whitney went back to Savannah. He’d recovered from his broken engagement, but he didn’t think he could recover from this.