Chapter 1
Micah
Flames burst from a single window on the side of the house, lashing for the stars amidst a tower of writhing smoke.
A woman—pale legs, pale hair, flimsy nightshirt—dashes toward the house.
Toward the fire. Lights from my firetruck and the ambulance parked on the road flash red and blue, chaos dancing as palm trees bend in the wind.
Carson stops the truck, brakes hissing and squealing. I leap out, yanking my helmet in place as I race for the woman, catching her around the waist a heartbeat before she reaches the front door.
She shrieks. Gasps for air. Turns to me, the whites of her eyes vivid against a soot-covered face. “My grandma’s still inside!”
She doesn’t recognize me.
Not in my gear.
Not through her fear.
But this frail, terrified creature is Ivy Cole. The woman I thought was the love of my life. She’s been gone for years and—
“You can’t go in there,” I bellow, as smoke belches through the door and Carson pulls up beside me, Probie trailing behind. “Let the EMTs check you out. Take care of yourself and let us take care of your grandma.”
Tears well in Ivy’s eyes and she nods. A child coughs in the distance.
“Mommy!”
Ivy turns toward the sound, long blonde hair whipping around her shoulders, and I enter the house with my crew.
A hitch of fear draws me up short. The last time we entered a burning building, Tucker came out on a stretcher, broken, charred…
The nightmares still—
No time for that.
I scan the scene.
Acrid smoke hangs heavy and black in a small living room.
I turn down a hallway. Three doors. All open.
Smoke and flickering light pours out of one.
I point Carson in that direction. He and Probie dash for the smoking door with the hose while I pass the bathroom.
No signs of flame. No signs of Grandma. I find her in the last room, on the ground, coughing, clutching her chest. I sweep her into my arms and carry her outside while Carson and Probie address the flames.
Ivy’s little girl is in the ambulance, sucking oxygen through a mask that engulfs her face, while Ivy strokes her golden hair.
She looks up as I arrive, blinking through tears. Through shock.
She’s every bit as beautiful as I remember.
I place her grandma on a stretcher, relinquishing her to Lucy—the EMT who saved Tucker’s life—then rejoin Carson and Probie in the house.
“You got salvage and overhaul?” I ask Carson, after the flames have been extinguished. “I want to check on the residents.”
Ivy. Fucking Ivy Cole and the daughter that should have been mine.
He huffs a laugh as he scans the charred remains of a little girl’s bedroom. “I’ll make Probie do it. That’s what your probationary year is for, right? Doing shit work while us senior officers collect the glory?”
Normally I’d be the last to leave the scene, but Ivy’s out there. It’s been years since we’ve talked, but man…
My Ives.
Here. Now.
I have to see her. I won’t relax until I know she’s okay.
I knock my fist on Carson’s helmet then take off down the hallway.
The destruction is contained in the little girl’s room.
The rest of the house has smoke damage, but Grandma’s room seems livable, as does the living room—which looks like it’s doubling as a bedroom, given the blankets and pillows strewn on the couch. Was Ivy sleeping there?
What the hell?
This house is old and small. The Coles have always been big and grand with so much extra space you could go a day without crossing paths with a family member.
Something isn’t right.
Ivy glances at me as I step outside, like some part of her is aware of who I am despite the helmet covering my face.
She makes her way over, wringing her hands, jittery, tense, but unharmed.
Thank God for small miracles. A smile lifts my lips as sweat trails down my cheek.
It’s so good to see her. Like the seven years between who we were and who we are don’t exist at all.
Like I could draw her into my embrace and run my hands through her hair like I used to when we were younger.
“Are you the man who saved my grandma?” Her voice is low. Tremulous. Her eyes tight and wary. “Thank you so much. Just…” She swipes at her face, as if suddenly aware of the soot streaking her cheeks. “Thank you.”
“I promised I’d always be there for you.” Smiling like a lovestruck fool, I remove my helmet. “And you know better than anyone else that I keep my promises.”
I don’t know what I expected from my grand reveal. Surprise. Excitement. Maybe a gigantic smile that matches my own. Shit, part of me thought she’d leap into my arms and scream for joy.
High school sweethearts finally reunited.
Instead, the warmth and gratitude drains from Ivy’s face.
“Micah.”
It isn’t a question. It’s an accusation.
Shit. I’ve looked forward to this moment from the day she left. This was not the way I saw it going.
I cough, raking a hand through my sweat-soaked hair. “Hey, Ives. It’s been a minute.”
She glances over her shoulder, towards her kid and her grandma. Steps back. Purposefully putting distance between us. Considering we spent our teenage years joined at the hip until her family moved to Seattle before our senior year, I would expect…well, not this.
“It’s been seven years.” Another accusation. Her lips a thin line. Her sky-blue eyes hard and unwavering. “Anyway, thanks for saving my grandma. I know you were just doing your job, but…” She lifts a trembling hand to tuck a strand of pale hair behind her ear.
“Ivy…”
I don’t know what I want to say. Anything to thaw the frozen divide growing between us. We used to be inseparable. Part of me always thought she’d come home, and we’d fall right back into the way things used to be.
And here she is.
Home.
But my Ivy never looked this angry.
“I don’t have anything to say to you, Micah.”
I place a hand on her arm and smile into her storm ravaged eyes. “How about we start with hello and then you can follow up by letting me know the EMTs checked you out and gave you the all clear.”
She shrugs away from my touch, like she’s disgusted by my presence. “Thank you for saving Grandma.” Palms up. Stepping back. “But please, don’t talk to me about your stupid promises again.”
Ivy turns on her heel and strides away, her hands balled into fists before she wraps her arms around her stomach and drops her gaze to her feet. I stare after her, dumbstruck.
What the shit was that about?
Sure, we fell out of contact, but that’s on both of us.
She could have reached out just as easily as I could.
And as I remember, I reached out a hell of a lot more than she did.
I drove myself crazy waiting for her texts, her calls.
My grades started slipping—and I never had room for mistakes in that department.
My mental health fell to shit. It was bad.
Bad enough for my family to intervene…
Besides, she’s the one who showed back up with a kid. The lighting is terrible and the little girl is hidden behind the oxygen mask, but she looks old enough to assume Ivy moved on not long after she moved away.
If anyone’s holding a grudge, it should be me.
But still…
One glimpse of her sunken posture…
Of her pale legs sticking out of that useless shirt…
Her hair limp and covered in ash…
Something isn’t right.
The Ivy I knew was determined. Willing to fight the whole damn world if it got in her way. The woman walking away from me seems…smaller. Fragile.
I take a step in her direction, but a hand drops onto my shoulder. I turn to find Carson, helmet in hand, soot streaking his cheekbone. “Probie’s in there making a mess of Salvage. You wanna rip him a new one or can it be me? Come on, Tower. Let it be me.”
His grinning face juxtaposes the tension draped across my shoulders.
I risk one last glance at Ivy. She’s hugging her kid, rocking, and rocking, and rocking…
Her shoulders shake. Is she crying?
“Hey. Tower. You in there?” Carson leans into my field of view, grinning as he trots out the nickname Tucker gave me years ago. Everyone at the station thinks it’s hilarious, like calling the tall guy Tower is original or something.
I arch an eyebrow before returning my attention to the woman who should’ve been happier to see me.
“Probie just ruined a bed and he’s eyeballing that couch like he thinks he’ll do better this time. You wanna do something about that or keep ogling that hot piece of ass all night?”
Any other time, I’d give him shit for giving me shit, but not when he’s talking about Ivy.
I whirl, glaring, then let out a long breath.
Carson doesn’t know our history and there’s work to be done.
It’s time to get my head in the game. Whatever’s going on with Ivy won’t get better if I let our probationary firefighter ruin all her furniture.
“Come on. Let’s show the Probester how it’s done.”