Chapter 26
Twenty-Six
Remi
Chief Daniels’ office always smells faintly like burnt coffee and old paper. I’ve been in here a hundred times over the years—for commendations, post-incident reports, the occasional chewing out when I was younger and dumber. But this time feels different.
When I knock on the door, he waves me in without looking up from the file on his desk. “Close the door, Lieutenant.”
The click of the latch sounds louder than it should.
I’m surprised I hear it over the pounding of my heart.
Taking the chair across from him, I rest my hands on my thighs like I’m about to be interviewed.
Through the window behind him, I can see the bay floor, where a couple of guys lean against the engine, talking.
Chief Daniels finally looks up, his glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose. “So,” he says. “It’s been a while since you and I sat in here and talked. By you requesting this meeting, I assume you’ve come to a decision?”
I nod once, swallowing around the golf ball in my throat.
The position is mine if I want it. Captain. My very own station. Everything my father wanted for me is so close.
“Your numbers are strong, your reports are solid, your crew trusts you.” He leans back in his chair. “Your dad would’ve been so proud to see you make captain.”
There it is.
It’s not manipulative. Not really. Just…true. He would’ve, and I know it. But is that really enough?
My father wore captain bars for years before he died.
I grew up in this station. Running between the lockers as a kid.
Sitting on the tailboard during open house days.
Listening to the older guys tell stories about him like he was ten feet tall.
He was my hero. And for a long time—too long—I thought the only way to measure my life was to stand exactly where he stood.
Resting my forearms on my knees, I take a deep breath, blowing it out slowly. “Chief, I appreciate the offer. I really do.”
He studies my face carefully. Intently. “But?” he prompts.
I give myself a moment, wanting this to come out strong and clear. “But I can’t become the next captain, Chief.”
The silence that follows isn’t angry. Just tense and…surprised. Folding his hands on the desk, he says, “Wanna walk me through that decision, Lieutenant?”
Honestly, it’s a fair question.
“I love this job,” I say easily. “I love this station. I love the moment when the alarm sounds and everyone moves without thinkin’. How we always work as a team.” I shake my head a little, smiling despite myself. “I love the chaos. The problem solvin’. Bein’ right there in the middle of it all.”
He nods slowly. “And you think you’d lose that as captain?”
“Some of it, yes.” I glance out at the bay floor again.
At the engine I’ve ridden for years. The scuffed floor where we’ve stood shoulder to shoulder after tough calls.
“As lieutenant, I’m still in it. I’m still the first through the door half the time.
Still getting’ my hands dirty with a crew I trust.”
His head tilts slowly. “And as captain, you’d be doing what? Sittin’ in an office all day?”
“Not exactly,” I say quietly. “But it is different. It’s reports, and meetings, and puttin’ out administrative fires instead of actual ones.
And don’t get me wrong. None of that is bad work.
It’s all necessary. But it isn’t the type of work that awakens somethin’ in my chest when the alarm hits.
” I pause for a moment. Maybe for dramatic effect.
Or maybe because this next part is harder to admit.
“If I’m bein’ honest with you, Chief. My heart isn’t in it.
Takin’ this promotion would be about honorin’ my father and doin’ what I think he’d want.
And that’s not a reason to do anythin’ in life, sir. ”
“You’re one of the best lieutenants I’ve got,” he says. “Promotions don’t come around often. Turnin’ one down… That’s not nothin’.”
I nod once. “I know.”
“And you’re sure this isn’t hesitation? Fear of the next step?”
I think about it for a moment. This would be a hell of a lot easier if it were fear.
“No,” I finally say. “It’s clarity.”
His eyebrows lift at that, making me shift in the chair as I continue.
“My whole life, people have looked at me and seen my dad. Which I get. He was a hell of a firefighter.”
“He was,” he agrees softly.
“And for a long time, I figured the way you honor a guy like that is by walkin’ the exact same path.
” Captain, just like him. Same timeline, same milestones, same everything.
“But I realized somethin’ recently. I don’t need to make him proud.
” The words land heavier than I expected.
Nausea swirls around in my gut. “I can love this job, lead my crew well, and build a career that matters…without followin’ in his footsteps. ”
Chief leans back, studying me with that careful, evaluating look he’s famous for. “You worried people will think you’re settlin’?”
I shrug. “Maybe.”
“And you’re okay with that?”
“I know what success looks like for me.” I think about my crew.
About the boy at home who now expects waffles on Saturday mornings.
About the steady rhythm of a life that feels…
right. “Success is goin’ home after a shift knowin’ I showed up the way I needed to.
For the guys on my rig. For the people we help.
And for the people waitin’ for me at home. ”
His gaze sharpens slightly. “People at home,” he echoes.
A smile tugs on the corner of my mouth. “Life’s gotten a little fuller lately, Chief.”
And as time goes on, I’m realizing how much I want to keep it that way. How much I want Lukas to stay with me… Forever. And that thought both terrifies and excites the hell out of me.
“You know,” he says after a moment, “most people who sit in that chair when I offer them captain are already halfway picturin’ the new bars on their collar.”
I chuckle softly. “I know.”
“You’re the first one in a long time who’s told me no without lookin’ like he’s about to throw up.”
“Oh, trust me. I considered throwin’ up.”
That earns me a short laugh.
“Well, I can’t say I’m not disappointed.”
My stomach dips a little.
“But I respect the hell out of someone who actually knows where they belong.
Relief weaves through my chest, and I let out a sigh.
“Lieutenant, you keep leadin’ that crew the way you have been. You keep showin’ up the way your father did.”
I nod.
“You’re gonna do just fine. And he would be very proud you for that.”
For a moment, neither of us moves. But then he stands and offers his hand across the desk. And I take it. His grip is firm and steady, and I swear I see something like pride glint in his eyes.
“Lieutenant,” he says.
I nod. “Chief.”
When I step back onto the bay floor, the noise of the station hits me all at once. Laughter from the kitchen, a wrench clanking somewhere near the engine, the low hum of the radio. And just like that, the weight of this decision evaporates.
It’s done. I did it.
I followed my heart and was honest with myself.
My shift’s over, and as I climb into my truck, I decide to follow my heart again and go to the one place that’s calling to me.
By the time I pull onto the long dirt road that leads to the ranch, the sun is starting to dip low enough to turn the whole place gold.
I sit in the truck for a second longer than necessary, the engine ticking as it cools.
It’s ridiculous how wound up I feel. I turned down the promotion.
That’s it. No disaster. No life-altering event.
But it still feels like I cracked something open inside my chest, and now I’m not entirely sure what to do with it.
The barn doors are open as I walk up, the familiar scent of hay and leather hanging in the warm, late afternoon air. I hear the slow scrape of a shovel before I see him. Without even looking, I know it’s him. And I know we’re alone.
Gentry’s in one of the stalls, pushing fresh bedding around the small space. At the sound of boots on concrete, he looks up. “Well,” he says, leaning on the shovel handle. “You look like a man who either won the lottery or ran over his own foot.”
I huff out a small chuckle. “Somethin’ like that, yeah.” I pause, dragging in a deep breath. “I turned down the promotion.”
He watches me quietly. No judgement. Just listening.
“It’s what I should’ve done a while ago. I like where I’m at, and that shouldn’t change simply because it’s what should come next.”
“Good for you, Remington,” he says genuinely. My chest aches. “Most men spent half their lives climbin’ ladders they never actually wanted to be on in the first place. Takes a lot of guts to go against the grain.”
Something tight and heavy shifts in my chest. “I just…” I blow out a breath. “I want a life that actually feels like mine.” The words come out rougher than I mean for them to.
Gentry studies my face for a moment, then something softens in his expression. “Come here,” he murmurs quietly.
Before I can even think of moving, he pulls me into him. One arm wraps around my shoulders, his hand pressing into my back. I didn’t realize how much I needed this until just now.
“You did good,” he whispers against my ear.
I laugh weakly into his shoulder. “I’m weirdly emotional about it.”
“That’s because you made a real choice.” He pulls back enough to look at me. “Not a convenient one. Not the one people clap for. The real one.”
My heart squeezes, and the back of my throat aches. I don’t know what to say. It’s not necessarily the words that have me choked up, but who is saying them. “Thank you,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.
Gentry’s gaze dips to my mouth before coming back up. “You don’t need to thank me,” he murmurs before dipping his head down and pressing his lips to mine. It’s soft and gentle, not meant to go anywhere. But it’s exactly what I need.
When the kiss ends, neither of us says anything for a moment.
“I better get home. Lukas is waitin’ for me.”
Gentry nods. “I’m glad you stopped by.”
Smiling, I say, “Me too.”