Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
Kate
“Who knew they’d draw this level of a crowd?” Cassidy keeps her voice low, barely loud enough for me to hear, distracting me from, once again, replaying that make-out session with Vaughn.
All day, I’ve been off my game and lost in thought like some lovesick fool, wondering when we can do it again.
After my whispered confession, we spent the night cuddling between rounds of heavy kissing and groping. Only reverting to tender touches once things got too heated and one of us would beg for a reprieve.
It was a night unlike any other, and I’ve been distracted most of the day, barely denying the urge to touch my lips.
Though I’m sure my body is primed and ready for an orgasm, there’s a lot to be said for the edging we gave each other.
Cassidy shifts next to me, drawing me back to reality.
It’s wall-to-wall people in the bay, the memorial drawing all the political players to the fray.
It doesn’t surprise me that Chief Slater, a man I’ve rarely seen in my tenure even though he is the head of the department, has deemed this event worthy of an appearance.
Technically, we’re supposed to be in formation.
Standing at attention and ready to do our rookie job of playing gofer for whatever the full-time crews need during this memorial service.
But I can’t help glancing around, taking in all the who’s who of community leaders shaking hands and gushing over the station.
It does look fantastic, if I do say so myself. We worked our asses off to make it so.
“Right?” I don’t want to talk about this memorial. I have such conflicting feelings about it, anyway. Mostly, they all roll back around to being sad for Gus and Vaughn and all they lost the night of the fire.
The elderly woman running the show steps up to the mic.
Chief Slater and all the deputy chiefs stand behind her in a wall of white shirts.
Firemen of every rank, from all shifts, and all the available medics are at the event.
God forbid something big happens. Though our reciprocal coverage agreements have our zones covered, the crews filling in for us don’t know them like we do.
She delivers accolades for the fire services and explains how the memorial came about.
“Sounds a whole lot like she just wanted to give her daughter a commissioned art piece,” one of the recruits next to me mutters.
I keep my face as impassive as possible, though I secretly want to elbow him in the gut.
He’s gotten mouthier as training goes on, making disparaging comments about women in the fire service and how he’s not sure he wants to be partnered with someone who can’t physically remove him if his life depended on it.
Eventually, the memorial is revealed, and it’s a beautiful portrait of Vaughn’s dad.
I see the resemblance immediately. I scan the crowd that’s beginning to thin, but as I expected, neither Vaughn nor Gus showed.
Disappointment rattles in my chest. I understand why they didn’t—couldn’t—come.
But I hate that they are missing seeing their loved one be so honored.
Once the ceremony is over, we go through cleanup and are warned that we’ll now have makeup work to accomplish since we missed a few days of class time.
“Great. Nothing like doing your job and getting punished for it,” Cassidy snarks as we stack chairs on a rolling cart to be delivered back to the event center.
A deep, low chuckle rumbles from behind us, and Cassidy spins. “Welcome to public safety.” It’s the handsome Officer Dex, and I don’t miss how her cheeks flush or how his eyes twinkle in response.
But instead of needling her further, he shifts that laser focus to me. “I heard from Vaughn today. I don’t know what’s going on out at that farm, but apparently you are making a good impression, and possibly even making headway with those two stubborn asses.”
I’m pretty sure Vaughn wouldn’t kiss and tell; after all, he’s so private about everything. But maybe he’s closer to Dex than I realized. I try to respond, but it comes out as a squeak.
“What makes you say that?” I finally manage while my face burns in embarrassment.
“Nothing,” he says with a wink and then spins to walk away. Cassidy and I stare after him. At the edge of the bay, he glances over his shoulder and grins back at us like he knows we were both staring at his ass as he struts through the building.
“Ugh, that man is nothing but a troublesome flirt,” she says. “But he does have a great ass.”
Personally, I was comparing it to a certain not-a-cowboy. “I think Vaughn’s got him beat in a pair of jeans.”
“Oh, what’s this?” Her brows hit her forehead. “Perving on your landlord’s grandson?”
I give her a shove and go back for more chairs, even as her laughter rings behind me, but I spend the rest of the day anticipating what might happen tonight. Will we have another make-out session? Will we allow it to go further?
The house is quiet when I finally drag myself home after the memorial, but they left the kitchen light on for me. The simple gesture warms my heart in a way I can’t comprehend. It looks like the chessboard has been used, and there are two glasses in the drying rack.
I hope they spent time together, helping each other get through a hard day. That crack in my heart for these two stubborn men is mending little by little. If I could have it my way, we’d keep strengthening their hearts, too, replacing some of the old hurts with new memories.
And it’s only natural that when I head upstairs, I then sneak through that open door to find Vaughn ready and waiting for me.
And much like the previous night, he spends his time caressing me, kissing me breathless—never letting it go too far before he begs us to stop—and holding me until sleep finally comes.
The next week, we play hell catching up to the curriculum and are informed that we’ll be doing a rotation at the training-burn facility in the next phase.
Every night, Vaughn has dinner ready when I get home, and he and Gus allow me peace and quiet to study.
And when they are done with their board games and their quiet conversations draw to a lull, Vaughn shoos Gus off to bed before collecting me and shooing me to his bed, where it’s more making out until sleep claims me.
I don’t know at what point we might make it past the make-out phase and into actual penetration. But right now, the lack of pressure is exactly what I need.
By midafternoon of the following Monday, we’re suited up in bunker gear and breathing apparatuses. A controlled-burn scenario is in place, and all we have to do is crawl through the building.
Easy-peasy, right? So why the hell am I suddenly scared shitless?
But for whatever reason, today is the day I’m realizing what’s at stake if I fail in a mission.
Whether it’s been brought home by Vaughn’s emotional breakdown or the memorial or how much I’ve come to care about the men I live with, or whether I’ve just developed even more respect for the service I’m planning to go into, somehow, this training drill is wreaking havoc on my nerves.
There’s so much more at stake than I ever internalized, and the reality that this job puts lives on the line hits me with a force that has me questioning everything.
“Hey, girl. You okay?” Cassidy joins me in line to do our rotation through the building.
“She’s showing her true colors.” Asshat has somehow maneuvered himself to be right behind us. I swear he lives just to give Cassidy and me shit.
“Shut up, Asshat,” I snarl. I hate to give him the attention, but I’m done taking his shit.
“Fuck you. We’ll see who’s still standing when they pass out certifications. I guarantee it won’t be either of you.”
That’s been his line the whole time. That Cassidy and I can’t compete with the rest of the recruits because we’re women. Misogynistic asshole. There’s always one in the crowd.
“Okay, pretty boy.” Cassidy turns to him. “Put your money where your mouth is.”
Normally, I wouldn’t go along with her taunt, but today I am over it. Mainly because, for the first time, I’m afraid he might be right.
No. There’s no way in hell I’m going to let him win. Failure is not an option.
“Hawthorne. You’re up,” the training captain calls, and my insides churn. Without waiting to see if he took the bet, I lower my face mask, engage the air flow, and step into the exercise. Immediately, I am swallowed into blackness. I can’t even see my hand in front of me.
The exercise is designed to test our capability in navigating and exiting an unfamiliar setting.
I follow the hose to the designated point and radio back that I’m in position.
I flow the water for the required time. Flames shoot overhead, and I drop to my knees.
I know there are safety measures in place—that this is probably the safest scenario I’ll ever be involved in because it’s heavily controlled.
In the real world, I’ll be in the middle of a fire, and I won’t have backup personnel standing by to help me if I get turned around.
“Hawthorne, proceed to checkpoint two.”
Two paces forward, I remember I’m supposed to drag the hose with me. I backtrack, feeling in the dark for where I left the nozzle.
I can’t find it.
My breathing is too fast, and I’m blowing through my oxygen tank.
Why in the hell did I drop the hose? How did Vaughn’s dad do this? Run into a building without any sort of way to beat back the heat and flames?
Blood rushes through my veins so fast I can feel my heartbeat battering in my head.
I force myself to slow my breathing and think. Then, with measured movements, I inch in the direction I think the nozzle might be.
The training captain reports my time over the radio. I’m too slow. At this rate, I’m going to time out before I reach the second checkpoint, and I still have four more to make it through.
My fingertips graze something hard, and I heave a sigh of relief. I will not fail today. I quickly get my shit together and move with more confidence through the next two checkpoints. Before I find number four, though, my oxygen bell starts ringing.
Calm down. Inhale normally. You’ll get out of this. It’s a warning. You have plenty of air left.
I maintain my measured breathing and follow the hose back to the door.
The sunlight is blinding.
I did it, whereas half the class failed.
The training captain addresses the group. “This exercise was designed to weed out those with any claustrophobia issues, known or not, with enough fire to make it feel real.”
It’s easy to tell who failed, because the sheer trauma is still written in their body language.
But I note with smug satisfaction that Cassidy and I are among the ones standing proud, and Asshat is looking like he’d rather be anywhere else.
“Today was just a taste. Next time, we’ll add some heat to the mix and put you in a fully engulfed scene. ”
I have a feeling there will be several more withdrawals. We are more than halfway through the training period, with only a month left.
I can do this.
I’m still riding my high when we get back to the training room at headquarters. Still smiling when I pick up my phone.
The smile falls away as I check my notifications. A half dozen missed calls, followed by one short text.
Vaughn: At the hospital with Gus. Call me ASAP.