Chapter 2
Not because anybody respected his peace. Quite the opposite. Those vultures were getting ready to feast.
Blaze barely made it three steps inside before Michael Reed slapped the countertop hard enough to rattle the coffee pot.
Over the past four months, Michael and Ryan had become the closest thing Blaze had to brothers. Unfortunately, that also meant they considered his personal life community property.
“Well, look who finally decided to show up.”
The kitchen erupted.
Laughter bounced off the concrete floors while somebody in the back actually started clapping.
Blaze sighed and dropped his duffel bag beside the lockers.
“Y’all are entirely too invested in my personal business.”
“Correction,” Ryan Young called from the refrigerator. “The whole damn town is invested in your personal business.”
More laughter followed.
Blaze grabbed the coffee pot and filled a mug, trying and failing, to ignore the grin stretching across Ryan’s face.
Nothing worked around firefighters.
Especially after a public spectacle.
And the bachelor auction had provided enough entertainment to keep these idiots satisfied for months.
Michael leaned against the counter and folded his arms.
“So...”
Blaze took a long sip of coffee.
“So what?”
Ryan shut the refrigerator and pointed a bottle of orange juice at him.
“You really gonna stand there and pretend you didn’t stop breathing when Jo’s number popped up as the winning bidder?”
The room exploded again.
Blaze kept his expression carefully neutral.
Unfortunately, that only made things worse.
“Oh, he’s gone,” Michael wheezed.
“Gone,” somebody shouted from the hallway.
“Finished,” another voice added.
Blaze shook his head. “Every last one of y’all need a hobby.”
Ryan laughed. “Don’t do that. We witnessed history last night.”
History.
That was certainly one way to describe watching the only woman he'd ever truly loved win a date with him in front of half the state of Delaware.
Even now, he wasn't entirely sure how it had happened.
One second he'd been standing beneath stage lights while the auctioneer read through his firefighter résumé like he was a prize bull at a county fair.
The next, Johanna's number flashed across the screen.
Everything inside him had gone still.
Not because he was embarrassed or shocked. But because after all these years, seeing her name connected to his again had felt dangerously right.
Ryan studied him over the rim of his juice bottle.
“You still love her.”
It wasn't even a question.
The kitchen quieted.
Blaze stared into his coffee while steam curled upward between them.
Outside the bay doors, sunlight gleamed against the engines lined in the apparatus bay. Somewhere beyond the marina, gulls cried overhead.
Four months ago, he'd walked into Station 3 looking for a reset.
After five years with Baltimore Fire, he'd grown tired of twelve-hour shifts turning into twenty-four and politics turning good firefighters into miserable people.
Sheraton Beach had seemed like the perfect place to catch his breath.
Station 3 was familiar. Comfortable. Temporary.
At least that had been the plan. He'd come home intending to figure out what came next.
Then Johanna happened. Now she was the only thing he could think about.
Finally, Blaze exhaled.
“Some things don't leave you.”
That shut everybody up for approximately three seconds.
Then Michael slapped the counter again.
“Oh, he in LOVE love.”
The room completely lost its mind.
Blaze laughed despite himself and shook his head.
Truthfully, there wasn't much point in denying it anymore. Not after seeing Johanna again. Because the truth was embarrassingly simple. No matter how many years passed, some part of him still belonged to her.
Always would.
Ryan dropped into the chair across from him. The teasing eased from his expression, replaced by something more knowing.
“You nervous?”
That earned a pause.
Blaze frowned. “About what?”
Ryan stared at him. “Seeing her again.”
Blaze opened his mouth automatically. Then closed it. Because Johanna Bennett still affected him. And Blaze was man enough to admit it.
Burning buildings didn't make him nervous. Car wreck extractions didn't make him nervous. The possibility of a roof collapsing over his head didn't make him nervous.
But Johanna Bennett… that woman could dismantle his peace with a single look.
Michael pointed at him dramatically. “That silence told us everything.”
Blaze rolled his eyes. “I hate this station.”
“Nah,” Ryan said easily. “You just hate that we know you.”
Unfortunately, they did.
The station phone rang in the front office. Someone shouted about inventory checks. The television overhead switched to sports highlights. Life inside Station 3 slipped back into its normal rhythm. But Blaze remained still for a moment longer.
Because whether he admitted it aloud or not, he was nervous.
Not about the date.
Not even about seeing Johanna.
He was nervous about what happened after that.
About looking into her eyes and seeing nothing, discovering she'd finally stopped loving him, and realizing he'd waited too long.
And worst of all...
About what would happen if she looked at him the same way she used to.
Because this time, he wasn't sure he'd be strong enough to walk away.
* * *
By three o’clock, the firefighters had migrated to Spanky’s Bar & Grill like they always did after their shift. The familiar scent of beer, wings, and grease wrapped around Blaze the second he stepped through the doors of the crowded bar and grill.
Monday afternoons at Spanky’s carried a different energy than weekends.
More locals, laughter, and firefighter. Televisions blared sports commentary overhead while servers moved quickly between crowded tables carrying loaded fry baskets and colorful cocktails.
Exposed brick walls glowed beneath amber lighting while old-school R&B floated through overhead speakers.
Spanky’s wasn’t just a bar in Sheraton Beach. It was practically community property.
And MacKenzie Young ruled it accordingly.
“Look what the ocean dragged in,” MacKenzie called from behind the bar.
Blaze grinned despite himself. “You got anything stronger than beer?”
“After the weekend you had?” She grabbed a glass. “Absolutely.”
Ryan slid onto the stool beside him while Michael immediately started flirting with one of the servers.
Business as usual.
Seven months pregnant and due in April, MacKenzie moved with the confident efficiency of someone who refused to let an impending due date slow her down.
One hand automatically settled beneath the curve of her round belly as she reached for a bottle of bourbon.
The little boy growing inside her chose that moment to kick, earning a quiet sigh and an affectionate rub from his mother.
“Your son is already causing trouble,” Ryan observed.
“He gets that from his father,” MacKenzie shot back without missing a beat.
A few nearby patrons laughed.
MacKenzie poured the bourbon, set the glass in front of Blaze, then leaned against the bar, one hand resting protectively over her baby bump.
“So…”
Blaze groaned instantly. “Not you.”
“Oh, absolutely me too.” She smirked. “The whole town has been waiting for you two to get it together since Obama was in office.”
Ryan nearly spit out his drink laughing.
Blaze pointed at her. “I came here for peace.”
“You came to the wrong establishment.”
Fair.
MacKenzie’s expression softened slightly. “You see her yet?”
“Not officially.”
“Mmm.”
That sound alone carried entirely too much meaning.
“I heard your auction package is a romantic helicopter ride to Baltimore.”
“Yep.” Blaze took a slow sip of bourbon. “I’m thinking about letting Jo cancel.”
Ryan’s head snapped toward him. “The hell you are.”
MacKenzie narrowed her amber-colored eyes. “Braxton Carter.”
Blaze frowned. “What?” He knew her friends had to be responsible.
She brushed a hand over her short pixie haircut. “Don’t let fear make decisions for you.”
Her words landed because fear was exactly what this was. Not fear of rejection. Not entirely. Fear of reopening something he never fully recovered from in the first place.
Ryan leaned back against the stool. “You know what your problem is?”
Blaze snorted. “I’m sure you’re about to tell me.”
“You still think Johanna sees you as that teenage boy who left town.”
The words hit too close.
Blaze stared down into his drink.
Because maybe that was true. Back then, he’d had nothing. No stability. No real direction. Just big dreams and an aching need to become more than the unreliable men in his family before him.
Leaving Sheraton Beach had felt necessary. But leaving Johanna… that had nearly destroyed him.
“You’ve been back in town three months.” MacKenzie rested her hands on top of her belly. “If she loved you once, she could love you again.”
Nobody had ever loved him like Johanna did before.
Or after.
A loud burst of laughter erupted from a nearby table while servers rushed past balancing trays overhead. Outside the front windows, Main Street glowed beneath the afternoon sun while tourists wandered between storefronts.
Sheraton Beach looked peaceful.
Familiar.
Home.
But somehow, after all these years… home had never fully felt right without her in it.
Ryan nudged his shoulder. “So, what are you going to do?”
Blaze stared toward the television mounted above the bar, but he wasn't really seeing it. He was thinking about Johanna. Her smile, her eyes, and the way she used to fit perfectly beneath his arm during late-night walks along the beach when they were teenagers dreaming about forever.
And maybe that was the real problem.
Some part of him had never stopped dreaming.
Finally, Blaze set his glass down then pulled his phone from his pocket and texted a message.
Ryan grinned immediately. “Oh, this about to be good.”
Blaze ignored him and MacKenzie’s satisfied smirks.
His thumb hovered briefly over the screen.
See you soon. ~ Blaze
He hit Send. Then leaned back slowly. His pulse immediately became irritatingly aware of itself.
Ryan barked out a laugh. “About damn time.”
Blaze shrugged and looked toward the front windows again. Toward Main Street, the ocean beyond it, and the life he once thought he had lost.
And for the first time in a long time… hope felt dangerous again.