Chapter 1
one
Denver
Present day
I’m keen to get out of work today. It’s been a big week of calls and paperwork and I have a night planned that can only end well—at least that’s what I tell myself.
I sling my bag over my shoulder and shake off my damp hair, fresh from the shower I just toweled off from. I give Phoenix and Hank, two of my colleagues, a nod as I walk by.
“Hot date?” Dylan chuckles on my way past.
“Somethin’ like that,” I mutter. Though, that couldn’t be further from the truth. It’s usually the same ritual, or at least, very similar: I meet a couple of my friends at the bar downtown after work, we have a few drinks, and then I grab some takeout from the corner and go home.
Not exactly ground breaking, but it’s become a weekly routine.
I have a needy cat, Bodhi, and he doesn’t like it if I get home too late. He’s learned to be self-sufficient when I’m not there—in typical feline fashion—but he’s needy when I’m finally home.
I’ve been working for the Chicago FD for the past eight years now, after transferring from the military. Working in rescue the last three of those years has been intense.
I pull long hours, hence Bodhi’s tendency to rub up against me and purring for half an hour when I get home, but I love my job at Firehouse 99.
Luckily Abby checks in on Bodhi every other day, since she lives in the same apartment block as me, and takes him under wing when he needs some love and attention.
Which is kind of all the time. I’m never worried when I come home to an empty apartment.
Usually there’s a note stuck to the fridge, and if I’m lucky, some leftovers inside.
Dating has been on the backburner with my schedule. It’s hard to get involved with someone when I work all kinds of crazy hours, but I live for it, and my last relationship disaster kinda scared me off women for life.
I love my job. There’s no way I’d ever want to be doing anything else, but it takes its toll.
Hence why the end of week drinks are in order, plus, I need some sense of normalcy.
Meeting up with Eric and Brax is the kind of normal I need.
Daryl joins us when he can, but he’s out of town on business for a few weeks.
He became the lead tech in some computer gaming business.
He’s a supernerd. I don’t really understand what he does exactly because it’s too technical, but the two of us have kept a very close bond over the years.
I guess saving your best friend, his sister, and dog from a burning house fire sure is bound to leave its mark.
It’s not something we often speak of, it’s just kind of there, like an unspoken truth.
And maybe it was always meant to be like that, otherwise I wouldn’t be doing what I love every single day.
I also wouldn’t have had that ah-ha moment at twelve years old after the blaze was under control and the chaos finally turned to calm.
Sure, my parents weren’t happy with me right then for doing what I did.
My mom was shocked and crying hysterically.
Dad was a mixture of everything in between, but mainly angry I’d put myself in danger.
It was like that for some time after that night.
I knew my dad thought I was brave, but some may say it was an act of stupidity.
Somewhere deep down I think he was a little proud of me as well.
I couldn’t have lived with myself seeing Daryl up at that window, and Dad was just doing what every parent would do in worrying about me.
Dad’s eyes still glaze over to this day whenever he talks about it.
And maybe I shouldn’t have done what I did, but even at that young age, it’s just who I was. Who I am. I can’t apologize for that.
When the cool air of the late September evening hits me as I step out onto the pavement, it's a relief to my senses. I spend so much time in the firehouse that I always appreciate the space when I leave. It’s like I’m free for just a little bit.
I can escape, in a way, and do what I want without the demands of my job baring down over me.
My sigh meets the crisp, subtle breeze, the same time my stomach rumbles. Maybe I’ll eat at the bar tonight and throw my routine right out the window.
As I look at the trees lining the city street, their leaves awash in different browns, oranges, and greens, it’s safe to say fall is my favorite season.
I’ve traveled here and there over the years, but Chicago is still my favorite place to be. I think it always will be. I love the heartbeat of the city, the way it comforts you in its hold like a long-lost hug you never knew you needed.
I can almost hear my mother’s voice chiming in my ear: “You work too much, Denver, you need to get out more.”
And she’s probably right. I know I need to head home and see my folks, maybe on my next weekend off.
They only live an hour away, so I need to pull my finger out of my ass and spend some time with them.
I know Mom will also make my favorite pot roast, so that in itself is totally worth navigating traffic for.
I jump in my truck and throw my bag in the back. It’s a little far to walk across town to the bar, especially after a long day.
I’m not a big drinker so getting home is never really an issue for me, and I’d walk home anyway if I felt I’d had too many drinks. My apartment isn’t too far from the firehouse, making it a convenient commute.
I reach Sinner and Saints in no time at all. The minute I open the doors and the live music streams out, the strains of the week seem to fade away, or at least soften somewhat.
I find Eric and Brax pretty quick, in their usual spot at the end of the bar. Brax gives me a chin lift as I approach.
Eric turns to look at me. “Well, look what the cat dragged in.” He smiles and gives me a poundhug, followed by Brax. I am a little late from filing the last of the equipment check paperwork.
“Do I look that bad?” I run a hand through my damp hair—I showered at the firehouse—and then over the five o’clock shadow on my face.
Sadly, I’ve purposely been avoiding shaving.
Some might say it gives me that ‘rugged’ look or some shit, but the truth is, I just haven’t had the time or inclination.
“You know how much he lives to stir shit.” Brax pops a shoulder. “He can’t help himself.”
“Speak for yourself.” Eric passes me an already waiting beer, my eyes scanning over the bar quickly to see who’s working tonight. Or moreover, if she is working tonight. I don’t see my favorite redhead just now, but it doesn’t mean she isn’t here. I mean, she said she’d be here.
I take the beer and clink bottles with the boys. Raising it to my lips, I take a long pull and let the ice cold liquid slide down my throat.
“You ain’t gonna find anything good back there,” Brax says to me, following my gaze as he rests his beer bottle back on the bar. He knows exactly who I’m looking for, but neither of them seem to want to put me out of my misery and tell me if she’s here or not. Assholes.
Instead, Brax taps his foot to the beat on the bar stool, and Eric drains the last of his drink.
The live music is a country kind of rock. The easy beat and the crowd of people getting into it on the dance floor bring the edge of a smile to my lips.
I raise an eyebrow. “You sure?”
“You know you could just ask the woman out.” Eric shrugs. “I’m sure you have her number?”
“Even if I did have her number, you know I can’t do that.”
Brax rolls his eyes. “Ah, you’re on your moral high horse again, brother?”
“Didn’t realize I had one,” I toss back.
“You kinda do when it comes to her,” Eric points out. “Not that anyone blames you. She’s the hottest girl in this place, that’s for sure.”
I don’t know why that annoys me because she isn’t mine to claim, but just as I think of a clever enough retort, smarter than telling him to just fuck off like I usually do, I hear the voice of an angel.
“Who’s the hottest girl in the place?”
I straighten my spine, tingles rising in my chest as I hear her voice.
My eyes flick from Eric, and bright azure eyes—that could bring my already rocky boat to breaking point—meet mine.
Oh, just one look and she capsizes me over and over again.
I feel the dryness in my throat seize up long before I part my lips to speak.
Sweaty palms, a racing heart and a throbbing cock inevitably follows.
Long lashes frame her striking and vivid eyes, brilliant and crystalline accentuating her pretty face; peaches and cream complexion, plump lips, and a tiny trail of freckles along her nose and cheeks. She’s fucking exquisite.
Adelaide.
She’s been working in Sinner and Saints for the past few weeks while she sets herself up here in Chicago. Just three weeks ago it was the first time I’ve seen her in years…
“You know I’m gonna be gone for a month or so, and I need you to watch out for Adelaide while she finds her feet in the city,” Daryl says the night before his big trip.
He’s been talking about it for months, and it’s the first I’ll have seen of her in over ten years.
He’s bummed he’ll be missing out on seeing her until he gets back.
Adealide moved to Cambridge, Massachusetts for college, and visits were few and far between.
Her and Daryl caught up all the time, but our paths have never seemed to cross all that much.
Maybe it’s because I’m a constant reminder of that night…
I push the memory out of my mind all the time because it’s just too hard to go there.
“You know it,” I reply. “Just remind me when she gets here and I’ll be her official bodyguard.”
“Hmm. Well don’t tell her that whatever you do. Adi isn’t the girl you knew from our childhood days,” Daryl reminds me. “Needless to say, keep your hands to yourself.”
Okay, well that’s a given. It’s Adelaide.
How was I to know that the very next night at this very spot, ordering a drink with my friends from a cute redhead with vivid blues irises that seemed to look right into my soul, that I’d regret those thoughts.
The second she locked eyes with me, recognition took over.
A crystal-clear rendition of the night of Daryl’s burning house ram-rods my brain like it was yesterday.
When I’d passed Adelaide to the firefighter waiting on the ladder, she’d looked up at me with big, trusting eyes.
It’ll be forever etched into my soul, even now.
Her arms reached for me, her eyes cloudy as tears rolled down her little face.
“I’m right behind you,” I called out to her, something I only just remember saying.
So much of that night is a blur to me now like a thick fog, sometimes it wakes me in the middle of the night and I remember some other detail I’d repressed. It’s been on and off like this for the past twenty-three years. I last saw Adi was when she was seventeen and graduating.
There’s been nothing at all in between, though I don’t think a day goes by where I haven’t thought about her and the Wilder family.
“Adelaide?” I finally sputter, when it becomes apparent that her locked gaze isn’t leaving mine. One thing is for sure, Daryl did not mention she was working at our local watering hole…
I could have messaged her myself, since Daryl gave me her number, to make sure she was settled in.
I’ve had time to prepare to see her again. Plenty of time to figure out what I would say, and more than enough space between the past couple of decades to string a few sentences together. Surely.
“You catch on quick,” she replies with a wink. Her arm resting on the bar is laced with gold bangles, where a heavy-set charm bracelet stands out. Her fingers are stacked with rings and a deep red hue coats her long, curved nails. “It’s also on my name tag.”
I blink down at her chest… not meaning to, but fuck me, if the tank she was wearing didn’t hug her voluptuous body like a second skin.
A gold love heart pendant with a diamond in the middle dangles from her neck, perfectly in line with her full breasts, resting in the middle of them.
I clear my throat and meet her eyes again, her full lips forming a smile. “Like what you see, Casanova?”
I stare back at her, wondering if I’d heard right… Wait, did she not recognize me? I’m getting the distinct impression she hasn’t caught on yet.
I mean, I know it has been a while but she isn’t acting like the girl I knew with cute glasses and a swinging ponytail.
She was very much the girl next door back then with her chirpy outlook on life.
Despite what had happened with that near-death experience at four, she always had the time for anyone and everyone.
It was always like her problems weren’t her own at all, she just chose to not dwell on the shit that life dished up.
And to answer her question: Yes, I liked what I saw, more than I should.
Needless to say it’s clearly the start of my sweating palms and heart palpitation era all over again…
Just the start.
The choke hold should’ve been my warning to back off…