Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Mac
T wo days passed between shifts. Forty-eight hours that would’ve been glorious if I hadn’t spent the whole time thinking about a certain new fire chief.
Where had she been all these years? And how fucking ironic that she was now my boss, much less in the same line of work as me. And how the fuck was I supposed to react? And who was the kid from the TikTok video?
I pulled up to the station, fully aware that she’d be making her visit today.
“Morning, Capt,” Big Mo called, too fucking cheerful for my mood. I grunted a hello, stalking down the hall to my bunk.
I tossed my bag into my locker, yanking my sheets and blankets out. She’d probably show up in that damn tight-ass uniform and send all these yo-yos into heat. Again.
I snapped the sheets tight. Why did she have to show up here? Why now? And why couldn’t she wear normal, loose- fitting, tent-shaped uniform pants? I flapped the blanket over the sheets and tucked the end before smoothing the corners.
“What?” I barked to the presence in my doorway.
“You okay there, Capt?” Nate stood with a shoulder propped on the doorframe. “Everything go okay at the lake?”
“Everything’s fine.”
His eyebrows shot to his forehead. “Really? It’s just that, I’ve never seen anyone make a bed up with that kind of vengeance.”
I needed to get my shit together. These guys depended on me to keep my cool. It was all they’d ever known, and they deserved better from me.
“The guys said the new chief is making her rounds,” he continued, oblivious that I absolutely did not want to talk about the chief. I didn’t even want to think about her. I’d spent the last two days thinking about her, to the point that I was ready to confront her, then maybe kiss her, and then maybe yell at her some more.
“Anyway, Torres said she’s really smart. He’s impressed. They cleaned the bay for us last night and gave us the heads-up that we might be getting a visit. We don’t know when she’ll show. So we need to be ready.” Nate paused, then asked, “You sure you’re okay, Capt? You got some heartburn or something? Your face is all red.”
I pulled a toothpick out of my pocket and chomped down, speaking around it. “Nicotine fits still get me from time to time,” I lied. “And traffic was a bitch coming from the lake this morning.” It wasn’t a full-on lie. Other than getting behind school buses, the ride had been fine. No, it was the days, weeks, and months that loomed ahead that had me on edge. “I’d pay twenty bucks to smell a freshly lit cigarette right now.”
His brows shot high. I didn’t often admit to needing a smoke. “Okay then, I’m gonna leave you alone,” he said and cautiously backed out into the hallway.
I resumed my morning routine. This was fucking stupid. I was better than this childish temper tantrum. I could handle her being here. I hadn’t let a woman affect me this much in over fifteen years. Hadn’t had one get under my skin or consume my thoughts.
Matter of fact, she was the last woman to affect me this quickly, this thoroughly. I shoved the thought back into the box it belonged in and left my bunk in search of my crew.
Inside the bay, between the engine and the rescue truck, was where we spent most of our time hanging out at a cheap plastic table with mismatched chairs.
Except this morning, the table and chairs had been put away, and everyone was busy cleaning the already spotless bay. An old vintage Ford Crown Victoria pulled into the drive and parked in front of the station.
“Who’s in that piece of shit?” Burgess called.
“I haven’t seen one of those for years,” Big Mo replied, propped on his broom. “I thought they retired all the former cruisers after PD got done dogging them.” He shook his head in disbelief. “What unlucky SOB got shackled with that?”
Knowing the way the city did things, I could imagine who was about to walk around that corner. I plucked the toothpick from my lips as the quick clip of high heels echoed from the sidewalk.
And then, there she was. Dress jacket crisp and white. And another fucking skirt and heels.
Well, shit .
“Good morning, gentlemen,” her sexy-as-fuck voice rang through the bay. A flash of irritation crawled up my spine. I didn’t want to see her. Not here. Not like this.
But I was the captain on duty. It was my role to make the introductions and be professional. So I schooled my features and went to greet her.
“Chief Hawkins, meet the crew of Station Four. This is Morgan Jackson, or Big Mo. Nate Williams, Thoren Watkins, and our rookie, Burgess.”
The whites of Thoren’s eyes blazed as he gawked at her, probably recognizing her from Kylie’s photo. She’d aged gracefully, but there was no doubt that she was the woman in the picture. I prayed he’d keep his shit together and narrowed my eyes in warning. Thankfully, she didn’t linger on Thoren or notice his stupid gaping mouth.
“Burgess doesn’t have a first name?” Swear to God, her eyes twinkled, just like they had in that island bar.
“Rookie,” Big Mo teased with a huge grin.
She returned his smile, and my stomach nearly regurgitated the coffee I’d pounded on the long drive to work. This was a fucking nightmare. Add in the fact that she didn’t act like she recognized me, and all of it just piled on to the shit I didn’t want to deal with. I hadn’t changed that much either, so there was no way she didn’t know. What game was she playing?
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, gentlemen.” She took in the bay, eyes lingering on the corner where the table and chairs were neatly stacked. “I appreciate the effort to impress, but I can assure you that I don’t expect you to reorganize your lives on my account. I don’t mean to interrupt, but I’d appreciate a few moments of your time.”
Over by the engine, Thoren and Nate whispered, heads bowed .
I knew exactly what they were whispering about. If I could, I would smack them both in the head for whispering about me. Her. What they thought they knew.
But then again, maybe that was me projecting.
I cleared my throat and snapped our collective attention to the matter at hand. My new boss was in the house, and we needed to find out her agenda and lay down some parameters.
I’d worked too damn long and too damn hard, and I was too damn close to retirement to let some newbie, no matter how gorgeous she was, come in and fuck it up. Regardless of how much my body responded to hers.
Or how hot my dreams had been in the two days since I’d last seen her.
“Conference room is open, Chief,” I ground out, ready to get this meeting over with. If being in her space was affecting me this much, I had no idea how I was going to manage the next five years.
The smile died on her face as she took me in. “Let’s get started, then.” She turned and motioned to my crew of idiots, and like a pack of baby ducklings, they followed her into the station, toddling single file into the conference room where they sat like good little boys.
I scowled. What the fuck? They’d never been so well behaved in their lives.
I wanted to throttle them.
We’d be having a discussion as soon as she left because something was definitely up.
She sat at the head of the table, notepad in front of her, and listened while they addressed everything from uniforms and bunker gear to the state of the equipment.
“Why do we have a four-million-dollar building, and we’re using outdated, glitchy equipment? ”
“That’s a good question, Chief,” Thoren piped up. “Maybe ask the city manager or the mayor. We gave them our list of problems before they opened this station, but nothing was done.”
I leaned back in my chair, chewing on my toothpick, arms crossed over my chest because it physically hurt to be in her vicinity, but I knew I had to speak up. “I was on the consulting team for the station build-out and equipment specs. More than once, my concerns were overridden in lieu of aesthetics for the building. Thankfully, they listened on the engine requirements.”
She turned to face me. “Hence the fancy red sliding doors on the bay?” The full effect of her attention on me nearly stole my breath.
Nate saved me by replying, “The money wasted on those doors alone could’ve been used to upgrade the equipment. They do look really cool, and the truck is super nice, thanks to Capt. But what does it matter if they leave the little issues unchecked?”
“Having reliable communication is not a little issue.” Mo glared at Nate before shifting his attention to the chief. “And that’s the administration’s mentality too. It’s just a radio. What does it matter?”
She made a note on her pad. Efficient, knowledgeable, listening.
From there, more conversation unfolded. She gave each person equal opportunity in the discussion. It really sucked that she seemed good at her job.
I didn’t want her to fail, but I also didn’t want her here, dredging up old memories. Making me feel things I had no business feeling. Especially when there was no reaction from her at all. She could’ve at least given me a second glance. I mean, damn. We’d spent a whole week wrapped up in each other. Best sex of my life.
How many times over the years had I wished that I’d gotten my head out of my ass and just asked for her number? How many times had I regretted forsaking the connection we’d had? Had it just been a time-and-place thing? Tropical paradise and a brokenhearted fool looking for a willing someone to make him forget.
And now there was a random kid on social media with a photo of us, looking for her father.
I studied Liv. The avoidance. The stilted interaction. Maybe there was more happening here than her just avoiding me. Maybe I did have a kid, and Liv didn’t want me to know.
This was fucking confusing.
“Captain Collins?”
My name from her lips did things to me.
And I’d been so caught up in just staring at her, I’d completely missed a whole-ass discussion. I realized, belatedly, that not only was the entire shift looking at me, but they’d also caught me staring at her mouth.
I met her steady gaze, heart hammering.
“Did you have anything to add?”
The bossy attitude was a total turn-on.
“Has anyone discussed the arson cases with you?”
There. See? I was engaged. And had a contribution that we could work with. Because I was a fucking professional.
Her brow dipped in concern. “No. I’m not aware of any open cases.”
I glanced at Thoren and then took the reins, certain he’d rather not have to spill the details about his twin brother. “Recently, we had a situation, a series of arson fires, and an active investigation that culminated in the perpetrator being apprehended after he caught one of our guys in an active structure fire. Both men were sent to the hospital. However, the suspect managed to slip away from his police guard at the hospital.”
She sat back in her chair, frowning. “No one has even mentioned it.”
“I gave the officer responsible, and his lieutenant, a piece of my mind. Since then, relations with that shift have been… less than ideal. Sometimes hostile, even. I’m surprised you weren’t warned about the situation.”
Her lips pressed together as she made a series of notes, then met my eyes. “Thank you for telling me.”
“There’s more to the story,” Thoren added flatly. The rest of the crew shifted, bristling in defense of their brother. “The arsonist is my brother.”
Had to give her credit. She didn’t even flinch. Instead, she grew still, her voice soft and gentle as she suggested, “How about you fill me in on the rest of the story.”
“My brother was targeting me because he’s a sick fu—person.” He cleared his throat, color creeping up from the collar of his uniform shirt. “Anyways, he thought the best way to torment me was to set fire in places he knew I’d respond to. My girlfriend’s apartment, her yoga studio, all in my station’s zone. We caught him, but not before he’d done irreparable damage.”
“Why her place and not yours?”
Thoren shrugged. “Because it would hurt me more if something happened to her.”
Chief Hawkins listened patiently as Thoren continued the breakdown of events, making notes on her pad the whole time. I managed to stay involved and fill in missing details, even as I wanted to get my hands on those notes and find out what she kept writing down. Eventually, she wrapped up the meeting.
“Thank you. This has been a very informative meeting, and I appreciate your candor. I’ve gotten what I needed for now and won’t take up any more of your time.”
The guys thanked her and left one by one. I waited until they’d all left the room, because if she’d been anyone else, I would’ve done the same thing. And I respected the way she’d handled the meeting. To the point, direct. No bullshit.
“Thank you, Captain Collins. Your crew has been the most forthcoming of all the shifts. I feel like we’ve had some good discussion today. I can tell they respect you a great deal.” She sat back in her chair, relaxed, in control, her tone conversational.
I mirrored her position, even though I felt anything but relaxed and in control. “I have a good squad.”
There was more I wanted to say, things I wanted to ask. About that damn social media post, about the past, about so many things. I shifted and dug around in my pocket for my pack of toothpicks, jamming a new one in my mouth to keep myself quiet.
She picked up a pen, dropping it end over end. Letting it slide down through her fingers, then flipping it over and repeating the process.
She had something on her mind, but I could wait her out.
“Captain,” she started, meeting my gaze, “we’ve met before. Do you remember me?”
Mother. Trucker. We were doing this. I’d been curious, but that didn’t mean I was ready.
What was I supposed to say? “Oh, hey, Chief. Yeah, I remember that day we went skinny dipping.” Or “Do you still like those fruity drinks?” Or “Yes, I remember every minute of being balls deep in you.” Or “I’ve thought about you all the time over the years and regretted not getting your number.” None of those were a suitable reply.
I opted for a safe, affirmative grunt.
Her expression was unreadable, but I didn’t miss the slight nod she gave me before she broke the eye contact.
She glanced down at her notepad and spun the ring on her finger. Obviously, I made her nervous. “There are strict no-fraternization rules, I’ve been told. So I would appreciate your discretion.”
After her lack of initial acknowledgment, the words slammed into me and pissed me right off. How dare she assume that I’d be shouting out our business? I pushed away from the table and stood.
“Yes, ma’am. Understood. Did you need me for anything else?” I needed to get the fuck out of here. She’d made herself clear that she didn’t want anything to do with me. Held no fond memories, or if she did, they’d meant a lot more to me than to her.
“No.” Her reply was soft, relieved. “Thank you, Mac.”
Gutted.
I was absolutely gutted.
I’d spent the last forty-eight hours thinking about her, replaying those old memories in my head. Had obsessed over them. Over her. Halfway wondering if we could try again and see if we still had the same chemistry, knowing that would be a colossal mistake for many reasons, at the top of which was because she was my boss.
To make matters worse, it’d also been a long fucking time since I’d had any sort of physical reaction to a woman, and immediately upon seeing her for the first time, my body had responded. A relief and a problem at the same time.
I left her there in the conference room. Stomping down the hall and punching through the doors, needing a cigarette in the worst way, I stalked out to the yard. My momma, God rest her soul, would cuff my ear if she’d seen that.
But I needed to be as far from Chief Hawkins as possible. I didn’t need the reminder that I wasn’t good enough. Wasn’t wanted. Being stuck in a room with her and the vivid memories I’d carried was a slap in the face.
Mo was out back winding the garden hose, water droplets still shimmering on the pickup truck he’d just hosed off.
“You done?” I snapped.
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. I’m making a run.”
To his credit, he just nodded and stayed out of my way. I caught him watching from the bay as I wheeled out of the parking lot.
I made it to the red light before the tones dropped, and we began an intense day of running calls. By that evening, I’d finally had enough distraction that I’d settled somewhat. I joined the guys, mid-argument, watching golf in the day room.
“I’m just saying that watching YouTube videos of people playing golf is not my idea of watching sports,” Nate grouched from his recliner. He was kicked back, an arm behind his head, eyes glued to the golf game in question, despite his denial of enjoying it.
“What would you rather watch, then, Grandpa?” Burgess taunted.
Three voices answered, “The Braves.”
Burgess exhaled a beleaguered sigh. “Baseball is so boring. ”
“And watching golf isn’t?” Thoren chimed in.
“Enough.” I snapped my fingers, demanding the remote from Burgess. I flipped it to baseball and kicked back in my chair, effectively halting the argument.
Burgess slipped out a few minutes later, mumbling about his iPad.
The back door chimed, and Mike Harrison, the fire marshal, walked in.
Greetings and handshakes were passed around before Mike settled into the recliner next to me.
“What’s up, Mikey?” Nate asked.
“Man, fuck off with the nickname.”
Thoren chuckled. “But it’s so cute when your mom says it.”
Mike scowled. “You’re pushing it. Just because you overheard my mother say it, does not give you leave to use it.”
“How’s it going?” I asked.
“Pretty good. Leah’s got a late class, so I thought I’d hang out here while I wait on her.”
His girlfriend, Leah, and Thoren’s girlfriend, Kylie, ran a yoga studio together.
“They got the studio reopened, then?”
“Yeah, man. The new space is working out well. It was a stroke of luck finding a vacant space on the square, but so far, so good. Business is going well for them.”
“That’s good,” I mumbled.
“It’s still unsettling that the bastard is still on the run,” Mike said. His heavy sigh carried a weight each of us felt.
“No kidding,” Thoren agreed. “Like waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
On the screen, the Braves hit a homer to take the lead, and the guys whooped like they were at the park. Just like that, the heavy mood lifted.
When they settled, Mike started again. “I got to meet the new fire chief.”
I knew immediately where this fucking conversation was headed.
“She looks an awful lot like that photo Kylie saw on TikTok this summer,” he continued, the words loaded with meaning. Meaning I didn’t want to think about. Instead, I focused on the game stats scrolling the bottom of the screen.
All fucking day, I’d been dreading this conversation, knowing it was coming because these guys couldn’t help but gossip.
“Yeah, she came by this morning.” Nate straightened, his attention on me. “So, what’s up, Capt? Was that picture legit?”
Thoren dropped the foot of his recliner and leaned an elbow to his knee, fully invested in the topic. “More importantly, do you have a secret love child that we don’t know about?”
“Because it seems that maybe you do, and maybe your baby mama is now your boss. That’s gotta suck, man. All parts of it.” Mo summed up the situation perfectly.
I dropped the foot of my own chair. “Here’s the deal.”
They all leaned forward, and I wanted to thump each one of them right in the fucking forehead. “She is the woman in the photo. She stated that we’d met before and asked if I remembered her.”
There was a collective gasp like they’d just received the juiciest bit of news they’d ever heard. I loathed being the subject.
“But as to the thing Kylie found, she didn’t mention it. We didn’t discuss anything beyond acknowledging identities. So I’m not making assumptions, and you nosy little bitches are gonna keep your mouths shut and let me handle it.”
Except, I didn’t know how.
Maybe that was the underlying frustration that had ridden me all day. I didn’t know what the picture meant. I didn’t know why Olivia was here. I didn’t know who the kid was. Had she come here, knowing she’d find me, to make my life hell? What did she want?
Was this kid mine? And if she was, would that suck? I’d never wanted kids before, but what if I had a grown child? Was I such a bastard that I wasn’t worthy of being a dad? Did they want money from me? Why? And why now? Why not years ago?
I looked at the men around me and leveled my meanest, don’t-fuck-with-me glare on them one by one.
Normally, it would have them all tucking tail and running to hide, because I could be an intimidating SOB when I wanted to. But these assholes? Nothing I said or did fazed them. They shared a grin between them. One that spread and grew like they were all in on some kind of secret and their whole night had been made.
“Okay, Capt,” Thoren cheesed at me. “Whatever you say.”