Chapter Six
Mark
The worst part of our long shifts on, is that we're kind of stuck at the fire station until the end of that shift, unless something happens that causes us to leave.
Right now I'd kill for a false alarm, or something of that nature so I could leave and go see Trish.
Me: How's your day going?
It's ten in the morning, probably still too early to text her, but I'm proud of myself for waiting as long as I have. I've been up since around five, when we had to go check on an alarm at a business, and I wasn't able to go back to sleep.
Trish: Not too bad. It's a Monday for sure, but I had a really good weekend, and it's not nearly as bad as it could be.
Me: I'm glad for you. I've been awake since five.
Trish: Poor thing!
Me: Yes, please feel sorry for me. Maybe come kiss it and make it better?
I shouldn't be flirting with her, not when we can't do anything about it, but it's better than the alternative, which is missing her.
Trish: Things would probably get out of hand, but I promise next time I see you and we aren't working.
I can literally feel her in the text slightly take a step back, and I don't like it. I'm pissed at myself for making it awkward.
Me: I'll hold you to that.
I put the phone down next to me. "Fuck, dude. You fucked that up."
"What's going on?" Gunner's voice surprises me, he's not supposed to be on until later tonight.
"What are you doing here?"
"Ash had to run a few errands and asked if I was interested in taking on a few more hours. Amy and I are planning on adding on to the house, so I can definitely use the cash." He looks at me with eyes that see way too much. "But why do I get the feeling what you fucked up has to do with my sister?"
God he's perceptive.
"Can you tell me about the situation she was in?"
"What do you mean situation she was in?"
He's going to make me spell all of this out for him.
I watch as Gunner pulls out the chair across from me and drops into it. We all treat the station like it’s our own home, so he situates himself and then turns his gaze to me. He doesn’t say anything right away, just seems to measure how much he wants to tell me.
His scrutiny makes me want to crawl out of my skin.
"The situation," I say, choosing my words carefully. "With her ex."
His expression shifts into one that he keeps locked down. Maybe if he allows himself to feel everything about Derek he’ll want to end up breaking shit. "Why do you want to know about that?"
"Because I like her." The duh is left unsaid. "And I don't want to do something that sets her back or makes things harder for her. I want to know what I'm walking into, for sure.”
Gunner is quiet for a long moment. Long enough that I think he might tell me to mind my own fuckin’ business, which would be fair. It's his sister.
"Shouldn't you be asking Trish that?" he says finally.
"Yeah." I exhale. "Probably. I will, but it seems like it’s something that hurts her, and I would prefer to keep hurt away from Trish. She’s dealt with enough of it when it comes to him. Every time it seems like she’s going to let me in…
” I stop, trying to find the right way to say it.
"She pulls back a little. Like she doesn't want to make it into a bigger deal than it already is. "
Gunner points at me. "That's her. That's exactly what she does.
" He leans back in his chair and crosses his arms, staring at the middle distance for a second.
"She's done it her whole life. Whatever's happening, whatever she's feeling, she minimizes it.
Wraps it up, throws it away and tells everyone she's fine.
" He glances at me. "Even when she's not remotely fine. "
"So I'm not imagining it."
"No. You're not." He's quiet again, and I can see him making a decision about how much to say.
"Derek had a wandering eye from basically the beginning.
Most of us saw it — or saw enough to have our suspicions.
But Trish was in love with him, and when you're in love with someone you don't want to believe what you're seeing.
" He shifts in his seat under my gaze. "And then Cora came along, and everybody figured — okay.
Now he'll straighten out. Now he's got something worth staying for. "
I don't say anything. Trish should’ve been worth staying for, but I know how this ends.
"He didn't." Gunner's jaw tightens. "He just got better at hiding it for a while.
And then he stopped bothering to hide it at all, and by the time Trish had the full picture, it had been going on for a long time.
" He looks at me directly, his gaze hard as fuck.
"The people who got hurt were Trish and Cora.
That's it. That's the whole story. Derek walked out and didn't look back, and Cora only seen him a handful of times since. "
How a man can be so cruel to his child will never make sense to me.
What I’ve wanted my entire life is a family.
It’s something to call mine, even if it didn’t start out as mine.
There’s just something about Trish. I can’t put my finger on it, but from the moment I saw her, my body screamed mine, and it kills me that this man who had everything threw it away.
"She thinks it's her fault," I say. It's not a question. A woman like Trish will take everyone else’s hurt and make it her own. It’s just who she is.
Gunner looks at me for a long moment. "She'd never say that, would never admit to it, but we all know how she is."
We definitely do, and maybe that’s the reason I’m so attracted to her. She’s so different than any of the other women I’ve known. She’s a mother, she cares about the people around her, and she’s a good person. When I’m with her, I feel like I’m a better person. “She makes others want to be better.”
He nods slowly. "Yeah. She does."
I pick up my phone and look at the last text exchange, at things would probably get out of hand and the way she took that careful half-step back even through a screen. I understand it better now. It doesn't make it less frustrating, but I understand it.
"I'm not Derek," I say, needing to tell Gunner so that he knows I’m not playing games with his sister.
"I know that." His hard gaze meets mine, and I’m thankful that we’re friendly enough that he won’t question that fact.
"Good, I need you to know that. Because she's your sister and Cora is your niece and I'm not walking into this without being serious about it. We work together, we’re friends, and I need you to be okay with this.”
Before I started speaking these words out loud, I didn’t realize how important it was for me to make sure it’s okay with him.
Gunner studies me for a moment with those eyes that have always seen too much, and then he does something I don't expect. He almost smiles. "You danced with her at my wedding."
"I did." I confirm, not sure what he’s getting at.
That almost smile turns into a smirk. "In front of everyone."
What the fuck is he getting at? "Also true."
"And you're sitting here at ten in the morning beating yourself up over a text message because you don't want to spook her.
" He shakes his head, that smirk working its way across his face.
"I'm not worried about you, man. I'm just telling you — be patient with her.
She'll catch up to where you are. She just needs to know you're not going anywhere while she does. "
I nod, some of that chaos in my gut calming down. It's the most useful advice anyone has given me in a long time.
"And Mark?" He waits until our eyes meet. "If you hurt her, I will make your life genuinely difficult."
"Understood, my man. I wouldn’t expect anything less."
"Okay." He stands, rolling his shoulders. "Now stop moping and help me roll up…"
The alarm cuts through the station like a blade. It’s the one thing that makes everyone stop doing what they’re doing and listen. We're both on our feet before the second tone finishes. The automated dispatch crackles through the overhead speakers.
Traffic accident, multiple vehicles. County Route 9, intersection near the county clerk's office. Units respond.
I'm already moving, crossing the bay toward my gear. I don’t pay attention to the address, I never do. Doesn’t matter where we’re going, wherever we end up, someone needs help. I go through the motions, pulling on gear, and the engine is rolling before I've fully processed what I heard.
It's not until we're two minutes out, lights and siren cutting through traffic, that it clicks. We’re heading toward the county clerk's office. Which is where Trish works.
I don't say anything. There really is nothing to say. Everything tells me that the accident could be three blocks away, could have nothing to do with the building she’s in.
But my jaw is tight the whole way there, and when Gunner glances at me from across the engine, I think he's nervous like me, but surely Trish would’ve called one of us if she was injured.
We pull up to the scene and it's a two-car collision, looks like someone ran a light.
Nobody appears to be seriously hurt, which is a blessing.
Accidents are some of the worst scenes to roll up on, but this one looks to be very minor.
One driver is out of her vehicle, shaken but standing, the other is still in the car and talking to a bystander.
My training takes over immediately, and for the next twenty minutes I'm not thinking about anything except the job.
I’m checking for injuries, managing the scene, talking to the deputy who arrives to handle the traffic side of things.
It's only when we're wrapping up, loading equipment back onto the engine, that I see her.
She's standing at the edge of the small crowd that's gathered on the sidewalk in front of the clerk's office building. She’s in her work clothes, and fuck if I don’t want to mess her up a little bit. She’s wearing dark pants, a blouse that brings out the color of her eyes, and hair pulled back like it’s gotten completely in her way.
The way she’s got it on top of her head exposes her smooth neck, and I decide right here and now this is how I want her to wear it next time we go out.
She must have come out when the sirens went by.
Judging by the amount of people who are out here, half the building did.
She's watching me. Her eyes follow with every single step I take, and it heats my body, knowing that she’s watching.
I make an excuse about checking our equipment list, and then I'm walking toward her. The crowd parts when they see me, but it’s not as if they know where I’m heading. When I stop, there's just a few feet of sidewalk between us.
She's trying to look composed. With the way she's got her arms crossed loosely in front of her, her weight shifted to one hip, like she just happened to wander out here and it's completely incidental that she's staring directly at me. I know better though. Me being here is affecting her the same way it’s affecting me.
"Rough afternoon?" she asks, eyebrow raised as she levels her chin so that we can look at one another.
"Better now since I’m seeing you.”
The tension between us can be cut with a knife, it’s like we’re two teenage kids who have seen each other in the hallway while changing classes.
The corner of her mouth tilts up. "Everything okay out there?"
"Just a Minor accident. Everyone's fine." I take one more step toward her, closing the distance until I'd only have to reach out to touch her. "Were you watching for me?"
"I was watching the scene." But her cheeks go pink, and we both know exactly what she was watching for.
I'm still in my gear, the jacket open at the front, probably not looking my best, but I don't care even a little. I reach up and brush a strand of hair back from her face where the wind has pulled it loose, and I feel her go very still under my hand.
"Hi," I say quietly.
"Hi." Her voice is softer than it was a second ago.
I lean down and kiss her. It’s not a show, not a long, drawn out kiss, not the kind that says I’m making a claim on her.
It’s just one where I let anyone watching know that she and I are spending time together.
I need this kiss as much as I need my next breath.
My hand curves around her jaw, her face tipping up to meet mine.
It’s soft and quick but means everything I can’t say at the moment.
When I pull back she's looking up at me with an expression I haven't seen from her before. It’s unguarded, almost like she’s agreed to let the distance between us evaporate.
Something about the way I responded to the scene, and her seems to have made a difference in the length she’s held me away from her.
"I'll text you later," I tell her.
She blinks once, coming back to herself. "You'd better."
I'm smiling the whole way back to the engine. Gunner is leaning against the side of it with his arms crossed, watching me with an expression that hovers somewhere between resigned and amused.
"Not a word," I tell him.
"Wasn't going to say anything." He pushes off the engine and pulls open the door. "Not a single word."
I’m still smiling when we pull away from the curb and head back to the fire station.