Chapter Eleven Visibility High #2
Reece stood carefully, then lifted her up into the cab, settling her beside Tilly. He grabbed the helmet from the back seat and placed it gently on her head. It swallowed her whole.
“There we go.” Reece adjusted the strap gently beneath her chin. “Looks good on you, sweetheart. Think you might be a future firefighter?”
She didn’t answer, but her small fingers traced over the dashboard, her wide eyes filled with quiet wonder. Then a smile. Small. Tentative. But real. And when he glanced out through the windscreen, he drew in a breath.
Standing a little apart from the crowd, eyes locked on Reece, an awestruck smile playing at the corners of his mouth before he seemed to realise it was there, Trent watched him.
Reece felt himself smile back before he could stop it and immediately regretted it.
Because God , that ship had sailed, sunk, and was probably rusting at the bottom of the bloody marina by now with no help from the Worthbridge RLNI lads to pull it free.
As Nathan steered Alfie towards the food stalls and Freddie wrestled a protesting Tilly off the driver’s seat, Reece helped the little girl down from the cab, lifting her with the same careful ease, the oversized helmet still perched on her head.
And when he handed her over to her mother, she gave the helmet back, turned and gave him one last small wave.
But through all of it, the noise and the bustle and the warm ache in his chest, Trent kept watching him.
And Reece’s heart…
Fuck . It wouldn’t fucking slow down.
Thankfully, he was called over to judge a best hose competition.
Such was his actual life.
* * * *
Trent swallowed hard around the tight knot forming in his throat since he’d watched Reece lift the little girl down from the engine. Those big, rough hands impossibly gentle, as if holding something fragile and priceless.
He hadn’t hesitated. Nor faltered when the girl’s distress made others step back. Reece had known . How to stand still without crowding her, how to speak softly enough to quieten the world around them. He’d handled her as if it didn’t matter. That none of it made her difficult or different.
And that was the part that wrecked Trent.
Because for all the times he’d tried to keep his feelings at arm’s length, all the ways he’d told himself this was just attraction, that Reece was a fuckboy with no substance, making it easier treat him as one…
in that moment, he saw st raight through the walls Reece threw up for everyone else and saw him.
And God , it messed with his head worse than anything else ever had.
For a few seconds, all the noise of the community day, the kids shrieking, the music butchering its way through another tired setlist, faded out. He thought about going over. Saying hi. Normal conversation. Friendly. Civil .
But before he could talk himself into it, an arm slung heavy around his shoulders and a familiar cloud of cheap lager and expensive aftershave rolled over him.
“ There you are!” Dev collapsed against him, clearly several pints deep.
“Jesus, Dev, you’re half cut already?” Trent shoved him upright, but Dev only laughed harder, tipping dramatically into Rory instead, who looked as drunk and twice as pleased with himself.
“Cut? Babe, I’m bloody carved. Sculpted.” Dev gestured wildly towards the beer tent. “They’re doing samples. Free. Can you believe ? The Radley tent are giving Worthbridge free drinks!”
“Almost like they’re trying to win our loyalty.” Trent glanced past him to the tent but caught sight of Niko trailing along, arms folded, looking every bit the designated babysitter, dark brows drawn low in disapproval.
“Don’t suppose you lot plan on drinking water at any point?” Niko asked.
Dev waved him off then suddenly gasped. “Oh! Oh!” He jabbed a finger towards the fire engine. “There he is!” He hovered closer but his voice was still far too loud not to be heard over the bustle. “I forgot to tell you, babes, he was at the hotel the other day. With a woman . ”
Trent’s stomach dropped so fast he nearly lost his footing, but he kept his face blank. As if that meant nothing at all. Not a thing. Didn’t matter. When he could have died right there on the spot.
“A woman?” Rory echoed, grinning as he leant his full weight against Dev. “Well, well… didn’t think Mr Hero Complex swung that way, too.”
“Didn’t look very heroic,” Dev added with a drunken smirk. “Looked like a right flirt to me. Bit cosy, if you ask. And secretive . Was wearing a suit. Even used a different name on check-in, dirty bastard.”
Niko shot Trent a look across the top of his drink. A silent You good?
And that right there, was why he didn’t go there .
Why he kept Reece Morgan at arm’s length.
Because there was always someone else .
His friends eventually staggered off towards the beer tent again, Dev and Rory arm in arm as if rehearsing for a drunken duet.
Niko lingered for a moment, his gaze steady and knowing before he turned and followed, the reluctant chaperone already regretting his life choices.
But the second their backs turned, Trent crouched by his bag, diving straight for the hidden blister pack.
One pill. To take the edge off. He popped it without thinking, swallowing dry, stomach curling in on itself.
To even things out . Keep the day from crashing down on him before it was over.
Then a shadow fell across him.
“Hey.”
Trent shoved the pills back into his bag and stood too fast, the world tilting for a moment before a strong hand caught his arm, steady and firm.
“Whoa…easy.” Reece’s rough palm warmed through Trent’s sleeve and for one humiliating second, Trent genuinely thought he might faint. “You okay? ”
Trent forced out a breath and scrubbed a hand across his forehead. “Yeah… I’m fine. Been demonstrating CPR all day. Takes it out of you.”
Reece’s eyes searched his face. He didn’t believe a damn word of that, and he brushed his thumb once, too casually, on Trent’s arm before he finally let go and stepped back, realising what he was doing.
“Came over to say there’s a free drink and buffet for first responders at the Dog and Duck.
” Reece stuffed his hands back into his pockets and that could have been to keep them from touching Trent again, but Trent wouldn’t let himself think he had any more pull over Reece than anyone else.
Male or female. “Bret asked me to pass it around. You coming?”
Before Trent could form an excuse, Liv hopped down from the ambulance step and looped her arm through his as if she’d been waiting for the moment all afternoon.
“Absolutely, we’re going.” She grinned, eyes sparkling with enough mischief to let Trent know she’d clocked every inch of the tension between him and Reece.
Reece nodded, his gaze flicking between them. “Great.” He stepped back. And God, how was it possible for someone to take up so much space even when he moved away? “See you there.”
Then he turned, shoulders broad, uniform stretched across his back as he walked away as if he hadn’t knocked the air clean out of Trent’s lungs.
Fuck.
There wasn’t much Trent could do about any of it.
Duty first. Liv was still bouncing between the kids and the ambulance stand, determined to charm every person before the day officially wrapped.
And they needed to get the rig back to base.
If she was heading to the pub to claim her free food, then he was going with her. Whether his heart agreed or not.
So as the community day wound down, and a horde of uniforms moved like a single tide through the streets, voices lifting in tired jokes and half-hearted banter, Trent had no choice but to join them all.
The promise of free food and cold pints was enough to drag even the most exhausted first responders through those weathered old doors.
The Dog and Duck was heaving by the time he pushed through the door, the air thick with the heavy scent of spilled lager, old wood, and the underlying trace of sweat and cheap aftershave.
The crowd comprised mostly uniforms. Police, ambulance, fire.
Badges swapped for battered name tags, authority stripped down to tired bodies seeking relief.
Laughter rolled through the air in waves, mingling with the low thrum of a half-hearted attempt at music playing through an old jukebox in the corner.
At the bar, Reece stood among the crowd.
Pint in hand, head tipped back, he laughed.
Loud and easy. One that wrapped around a room and pulled people into it.
Him . And that grin lit up his whole face, creasing the corners of his eyes, making him look younger.
Nothing like the man who tore through burning buildings.
It was the way he’d been with the little girl earlier. Soft. Gentle. Intuitive.
Reece’s gaze found his.
And the hit was immediate, intense and breath-stealing.
A gut punch he hadn’t seen coming.
And all Trent could think whilst he fought back the surge of heat and hurt in his throat, was that he couldn’t do this anymore.
Couldn’t pretend casual didn’t cut him wide open.
Pretend it didn’t ruin him to imagine Reece looking at someone else the way he was looking at him right then, as if Trent was the only thing in the room worth seeing.
Couldn’t pretend that thinking about Reece’s hands on someone else’s body didn’t gut him from the inside out.
Reece could go from one to the next without missing a beat. Leave smiles and broken rules in his wake, yet still make Trent believe he was someone special .
That was the lie Trent couldn’t stomach anymore.
And he sure as hell wouldn’t stand here and drown in it. So he turned around and pushed his way back through the door, out into the cool night air before the walls could close in and he humiliated himself by wanting something he could never have.