Chapter Fifteen Too Cold to Hold #3
“You’re good to re-enter,” he said. “Faulty steam sensor in three-o-seven. No smoke, no damage. Maintenance’ll need to look at the venting up there, or this’ll keep happening.”
Dev nodded, holding his tablet like a shield. “Thanks. I’ll follow it up in the morning. And listen…”
Reece couldn’t listen, as something else caught his attention. A figure stepping out from the side entrance, hand on the lower back of a woman in a sleek black coat.
Ethan.
Reece’s face hardened, the professional mask cracking, allowing the heat to bleed through as he watched Ethan lean into the ear of this woman, slipping a hand to the small of her back and guiding her through into the hotel.
That wasn’t Ethan’s wife.
She wasn’t the woman Reece had watched walk down the aisle beaming, eyes bright with promises that had made even him , standing awkward and cynical in the background, wonder if something real might be possible.
That maybe their parents’ wreckage of a marriage hadn’t ruined them both beyond repair.
Because Ethan had looked happy . Solid. As if he’d found someone who made the world quieter.
And she’d looked at him as if he was worth it .
It had stirred something in Reece. Something he’d buried under years of short-lived flings and untied boots by other people’s beds .
Stability. Certainty.
Someone who chose you and kept choosing you.
But that woman wasn’t Ethan’s wife.
And worse. Reece knew her.
His stomach dropped the second recognition clicked into place.
Vivienne Radley.
He didn’t need an introduction. Her face had been all over Worthbridge before the case went quiet.
Smiling at charity galas, standing beside her husband when the cameras were still kind, and then later, stone-faced on the courthouse steps when the press turned ugly.
He’d seen her at fundraisers, in the papers, laughing over wine glasses as if her family name didn’t reek of blood and rot.
And now she was here. With Ethan .
Rage curled in Reece’s chest, kicking up his spine, fast and furious, and before logic could check him, he moved.
“Oi!” His boots hit the tarmac with purpose, voice cutting through the chatter of guests still trickling back into the hotel.
His brother turned, casual as ever, though Reece didn’t miss the surprise flashing through his eyes before he composed himself.
The smirk that followed was pure performance, though.
“Reece.” Ethan stepped away from Vivienne as if creating six inches of space could somehow make the situation look less incriminating. “I wondered if that might be you.”
“What the fuck are you doing?”
“Nice to see you too.” Ethan gave a dry smile. “I’m here on business. ”
“With her ?” Reece jerked his chin towards the woman now slinking into the lobby. “You’re married. Happily , last I checked.”
“I said I’m here on business,” Ethan replied coolly, though his tone had lost its usual polish. Hardened, all clipped edges and warning. “She’s a client.”
“It’s four in the fucking morning, Ethan,” Reece snapped. “Who conducts client meetings at this hour? Oh, wait— Radleys do.”
“Reece—”
“No. Fuck you.” Reece prodded Ethan’s chest as if they were still schoolboys fighting over the last biscuit. “Are you actually serious? You’re getting into bed, legally or otherwise, with them ? Do you even know what they’ve done? What they’re tied to? One of my crew nearly died because of them.”
“What I’m involved in is none of your concern.
And I suggest you choose your next words carefully.
” He took a step closer, lowering his voice to be dangerously measured.
“You’re speaking on record and in uniform about an active investigation involving high-profile clients.
If you so much as insinuate misconduct without evidence, you could face a formal complaint.
Not only against you, Reece. Against your watch . ”
Reece stood rigid, clenching his fists so tight his knuckles had gone white, fury radiating off him. The silence between him and Ethan stretched, louder than sirens, heavier than smoke.
Because Ethan wasn’t threatening him.
He was right .
And Reece hated that more than anything.
“Hey… uh…” Dev’s voice sliced through the tension, tentative, approaching with caution. “Is there anything else you need from us? Or… you know, should I leave you two to the passive-aggressive testosterone death match?”
Reece didn’t know who the question was aimed at.
Him or Ethan. But Ethan answered. Of course he did.
Because he always had. People naturally deferred to Ethan.
The articulate one. The clever one. The polished one.
The one who mattered. While Reece? He’d always been the blunt instrument.
The hands, not the head. The one who stood in the fire and kept Ethan clean.
And now, after all of it, this was the payoff.
His brother, charming, poised, and once again on the wrong side of everything, still got to hold the narrative.
And Reece was left cleaning up the ash.
“Thank you for your prompt response.” Ethan’s tone was smooth, almost amused, as if he were addressing a colleague at a boardroom debrief instead of the brother he’d baited to the brink of a fistfight.
“You’re an asset to Worthbridge Fire and Rescue.
” He then turned to Dev. “And thank you for your hospitality. As always, the Worthbridge Harbour Hotel will receive a five-star review from me. For your swift coordination and, of course… your discretion.”
The pause on discretion wasn’t long. But it was pointed.
Then, like an ultimate insult wrapped in civility, Ethan gave Reece’s arm a light, patronising pat.
“Good to see you, brother.” Then he turned on his polished heel and walked off without a backward glance.
As if he’d already won.
Because he always fucking did .
Reece might look like a firefighter. But he felt like a fucking inferno right then.
“Okay, so …” Dev sidled a step closer. “You, uh… have a brother?”
“Yeah.” Reece ripped off the rest of his turnout jacket .
“He’s… a regular guest here.”
Reece narrowed his eyes. “You thought I was him.”
It wasn’t a question. It was a statement.
Flat. Certain. Because it wasn’t the first time.
Happened a lot when they were younger. Matching school uniforms, mirrored faces, no real sense of who they were yet.
But that had changed. When Ethan had gone off to university, joined the ranks of the elite, learned how to weaponise charm and tailor-made suits while Reece stayed behind, built muscle, inked his skin, carved out an identity that was his own.
These days, most people didn’t confuse them.
But for someone who didn’t know there were two of them, who saw Ethan dressed to the nines, all sharp suits and courtroom polish, it was easy to mistake the face. The height. The broad shoulders. That same unmistakable presence.
Still, if you really knew them?
There was no confusing it.
They were night and day. Fire and ice.
Dev winced. “Look, I realise how ridiculous that is now. You’re like, a billion times hotter. Even if his suits fit him like sin and you both have the same unfairly gorgeous green eyes—”
“We’re twins.”
“Right. Of course. That makes total sense now. The eyes. The smoulder. The whole could-ruin-me-in-an-alley thing.”
Reece gave him a look.
Dev held up both hands. “Okay, don’t hate me… but I might’ve told Trent you’d been here. And, um… I might’ve been a bit pissed off when you didn’t recognise me this morning. Because, you know, I brought a bloody toothbrush for you last week , and you slipped me a tenner for it.”
Reece blinked. “Except that wasn’t me. ”
“I realise that now .” Dev dragged a hand through his hair. “And I feel like a colossal dick.”
Reece stared past Dev, jaw clenched so tight it ached. He wasn’t looking at him. Wasn’t really seeing anything except the dark gap in the street where Ethan had vanished. Then it hit. Low. Deep. A punch that didn’t just land. But stuck .
Trent thinks I left his bed and went straight into someone else’s.
When in truth, all Reece had wanted was to crawl back into that bed and stay.
To wake up beside him. Again and again, until it stopped feeling like a risk and started feeling right.
But Trent probably thought he was a liar.
A user. Another version of the man Reece had spent his whole life trying not to become.
“Okay, look.” Dev bit his lip, then huffed out a breath.
“I probably shouldn’t be saying this. Trent will hundred percent cut my balls off and stitch my arse shut with that terrifyingly neat first aid kit of his if he finds out.
But… he likes you, yeah. Like, likes you likes you.
And he’s been trying to act like he doesn’t, trying to convince us he doesn’t, but come on.
We know him. He’s a bit broken, yeah? You know why now.
And we’ve kinda been warning him off you because when he falls, it’s head-first, no helmet. That sort of mess.”
Dev gave him a pointed look.
“And I might have seen you here right after being with him a few times. Or y’know, thought I had.
And Worthbridge gossip spreads faster than a house fire in a gale, yeah?
So, he’s twisting himself up pretending he’s fine, but he’s not.
He’s not . And if he means something to you too.
…if this thing isn’t just a one-way ticket to heartbreak, then maybe, I dunno…
let him know? Before he convinces himself to walk away. ”
“Reece!” Mason’s voice called from across the forecourt, the lads already heading back towards the pump.
Time to roll out. Shift was nearly done, and they’d be lucky to get half an hour’s kip before eight.
Reece paused, halfway to the pump, then looked back at Dev and figured this time it was a fight without fists.
“If you speak to him… if he’ll even listen… tell him, there’s no bed I want to crawl in or out of other than the one he’s in. No one else comes close. And if that’s too much for him right now, that’s okay. But tell him…if he needs it… I’ll be his medicine.”
Dev blinked hard, pressing a hand to his chest. “Jesus, babes. You can’t say shit like that when I’ve got guests watching. I’ll cry and can’t blame it on pollen season!”
Reece let out a quiet snort, lips tugging into the barest smile. Then, without another word, he turned and jogged towards the fire engine, climbing in with his crew as they pulled away into the dark.