Red lights splashed across Dylan’s face from the emergency vehicles in the road ahead. Fire trucks blocked the streets, police cars littered the area, and neighbors milled around their yards, rubbernecking.

He wasn’t going to get close to Lexi’s house in his car, the scene far too busy. Instead of trying, he parked on the side of the road and rushed to her house on foot. As he neared, he saw the melted siding, the black soot that crawled up the side of the house, and the residual smoke still coming from the windows.

He’d already spoken to her. He knew she was fine; she’d told him herself. She’d also sounded terror-stricken and in absolute shock. She’d told him not to come, that there was nothing he could do.

But there was something he could do. He could wrap his arms around her and hold her, give her a shoulder to cry on if that’s what she needed. He’d be the person she yelled her heartbreak to, if that’s what she needed.

He spotted Spencer’s head above everyone else and made a beeline for him. When the crowd parted, Andy stood in front of Spencer, his arms around her shoulders, his chin resting on her head. It was a sweet pose, something he hadn’t been sure Spencer was capable of. Beth’s hand was wrapped in Andy’s, her other arm holding Lexi close, her head resting on her younger sister’s shoulder.

Dylan had never felt being an only child so acutely. What a sweet picture they made, united and solid as steel, yet quietly vulnerable with one another.

He took a step closer and got a glimpse of Charlie, Lexi’s father, standing squarely on her other side, glaring up at her house as if it had personally offended him. With a quick glance, Dylan couldn’t disagree. He’d hated that kitchen since the second he laid eyes on it. Now, he had even more reason to despise it.

Beth saw him first and whispered something quiet to Lex. When she looked up, her blue eyes met his; there was a kind of defeat he’d never seen on her before. Her shoulders sagged, but there was genuine relief there too and he liked to think that was because of him.

She broke apart from her family, taking short, halting steps toward him, her arms wrapped around her middle. He didn’t slow, meeting her in the road in front of her house, his arms outstretched and waiting for her. Lexi stepped up to him, pressing her face against his chest and taking a deep breath. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. Smelling her hair and proving to himself that she was, in fact, fine.

He didn’t have words for her that weren’t platitudes. All the it’ll be okays in the world wouldn’t undo the damage the fire had caused. He was sure she didn’t want to hear about insurance policies or think about kitchen remodels. Even though it was the ugliest thing he’d ever seen, Lexi loved her kitchen. She babied it and treated it with the utmost care. This was devastating, no matter which insignificant words came out of his mouth in the moment.

So, instead of speaking, he just held her, letting her take her comfort, if only momentarily, in relative peace. Her fingers flexed against him, balling his shirt up in her fists against his chest. Her shoulders shook against him and he did nothing but hold her.

He met Spencer’s eyes over her head, and Lexi’s brother gave him a nod of approval before he let go of Andy and she ran into Owen’s waiting arms. Spencer quickly grabbed Beth, holding onto her with an arm slung around her shoulder.

Dylan pressed a kiss to Lexi’s hair and rested his cheek on the top of her head. She smelled acrid, the sharp scent of smoke clinging to her.

She leaned back and looked up at him, her tears leaving tracks in the black soot on her cheeks. It was the devastation he saw there that cut him to the quick. He cradled her cheeks in his hands and rubbed the tears away with his thumbs.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” he whispered. He couldn’t care less about her house or her kitchen; it was Lexi he cared about.

“My house,” she replied brokenly.

“I know, baby,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t know what happened. I was just preheating it, like I always do. There was nothing in it, nothing to burn. I don’t know what happened.”

“I’m sure they’ll figure it out,” he said lamely.

“You didn’t have to come.”

She’d told him that over the phone. That there’d been a fire in the house but she and her sisters had gotten out okay. They’d tried to extinguish it themselves, but it was too big.

And oh yeah, he didn’t have to come.

Yeah right.

“I know you said that,” he said, running his palm along her hair. “But I had to. I had to come put my arms around you and hold you. I had to see for myself that you were in one piece.”

“I’m in one piece, but my poor kitchen, Dylan.” Her lower lip wobbled. “How am I going to work? Where am I going to live?” Before he could answer, horror slid across her face. “I’m going to have to move in with my father. Or worse, my sister.”

“You’re going to come stay with me,” he said confidently, anything different never even crossing his mind. He’d assumed she wouldn’t be able to go back into the house for a while. He’d just assumed she would come stay with him.

He both hated and loved that she didn’t assume that she’d stay with him. She should know him better than that, to think he’d go letting her beg for somewhere to stay. She didn’t have to beg him. He’d be happy to have her with him, every day and night. Living in different cities made the relationship thing tough. Having her come stay with him might even be a help.

“Dylan, I can’t come stay with you,” she argued.

She said the words, though her hands tightened on his shirt, still holding him close. She wasn’t pushing him away.

“You can and I wish you would. I’ve got a kitchen you can use, one you’ve said yourself is professional grade. There’s plenty of space. It’s close to the Bean. It’s close to me.”

“It’s farther away from the university,” she argued. “And in about five seconds, my family is going to descend, insisting that I stay with them. Beth, because I’m carrying her baby. Andy, because we’re twins. Spencer, because he has an extra room and my father because he’s my father.”

“Do you want to stay with any of them?” he asked honestly. “Because if you do, I won’t fight you on it. I want you to be wherever you’re happy and comfortable. If that’s here, so be it. But if you want to come stay with me, I want you with me, Lex. I hate this being apart shit. Even more so today when you had an emergency and I was nowhere in sight.”

She’d gotten some color back in her cheeks and the scowl on her face let him know that she still felt some of her spark.

“It’s not like if I come stay with you, you’re going to be watching me every second of every day.”

“I could if you want. I could work from home and just watch you all day long. I’ll watch you shower. I’ll watch you bake naked. Totally fine with me.”

She let out a little laugh at the idea and he felt the pleasure of it clear to his toes.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

She said the words, but there was no heat to them. In fact, there was a distinct softness to them that made him think she was considering his offer.

“I don’t bake naked,” she said quietly, finishing her statement.

“That’s a shame,” he said, cupping her cheek again and looking at her seriously. “I mean it, Lex. I want you to stay with me; I want to have you close. But you do whatever you need to do, and know that we’re going to get through this together. Insurance and everything that comes next, I’m right there with you.”

She shook her head. “Where did you come from, Dylan James?” She unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt and took a quick peek. “No superhero uniform under there? First you save me from my coffee emergency and now you’re offering me a place to stay. You going for sainthood?”

He didn’t want to bring up the fact that he’d imagined her dying in that fire, considered it as something that could have been a possibility, and he’d seen his own life flash before his eyes.

“Just trying to help,” he replied firmly, before sighing. “Your family is coming over now. Is there where we fight over you? Is there an actual tug of war I should prepare for?” He sent her a serious look. “I don’t think I can take Spencer but I can definitely take your dad and sisters.”

She laughed under her breath as her family approached. They all looked concerned, brows furrowed, lips straight.

“I’m going to stay with Dylan for a while,” Lexi said before any of them could say a word.

Beth comically stopped in her tracks, her eyes darting to Dylan before going back to her sister.

“You can stay with us,” Andy offered with a gentle smile, her hand out for Lexi to grab.

She did take her sister’s hand but told her the same thing, making her frown. “I’m going stay in Boston. Even if just for a few days to figure out what I need to do next. I can’t stay here and see my house like this every day, and if I stay here, I’m just going to stay here looking, or drive by just to see. I’ve got to get out of town for a few days and do some thinking.”

“You’ll stay with me,” Charlie said gruffly. “I’ll take care of you.”

Lex stepped up to her father and wrapped her arms around his middle, hugging him tightly. “Don’t be mad. I’ll bring you a cake.”

“I don’t want any damn cake,” Charlie growled. “Why are you always offering me cake?”

“Because you always say, I don’t want any damn cake,” Beth said with a chuckle, “And she secretly likes to annoy you.”

“Well, I’m annoyed,” Charlie confirmed and sent Dylan a hard look. “You seem like a nice boy, Dylan, but I want Lexi with me.”

Dylan put his hands on his hips and considered arguing his point, but decided to tread lightly instead.

“I just made the offer, sir. It’s up to Alexa what she does. Always.”

“Smart man,” Owen said under his breath.

“Don’t you side with him,” Beth complained. “When you came back to town and Andy didn’t want to talk to you, who had your back?”

“Not relevant,” Andy said, waving a hand between them. “We all know that Alex is a grown woman and can make her own decisions, right?”

Beth crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Dylan, not Lexi, which he appreciated. Lexi had been through enough, she really didn’t need this kind of argument on top of it.

“I want to stay with Dylan for a few days and try to decompress after this. If I need anything, or you want to talk, call me or come by. I’ll at least be back Sunday for Easter.”

Andy’s face suddenly fell as she looked at her sister.

“What?” Dylan asked, worried that it had something to do with Lexi.

“The compound butter.”

“Seriously?” Beth asked, though Lexi let out a chuckle and wiped a residual tear from her eye.

“What the hell is compound butter?” Dylan asked.

“The key to blueberry croissants,” Andy said, coming as close to undone as he’d ever seen her. She looked positively crestfallen, her knees jerking in what could only be called an adult temper tantrum.

Lexi looked back up at her house, her face turning down contemplatively. “Maybe it’s still in there. Maybe it’s not as bad as I think.”

Dylan looked too, hoping against hope that she was right.

Though, it didn’t look good.

She was quiet the entire ride to Boston. Nearly an hour of pensive silence while the suburbs turned to cityscapes and they arrived safely at his condo.

Lexi’s bedroom had been relatively unscathed and the fire department had let her back in to pack a bag. Her family hadn’t been thrilled about her joining him in the city, but it had been Lexi’s choice, and hers alone. He was glad she’d chosen to stay with him. Even temporarily, having her close would soothe his frayed nerves—her phone call and seeing her standing in front of her burnt house enough to rattle him to his core.

He let them into his condo and she trudged in, like walking was more than she could muster energy for. She shed her sweatshirt and his eyes zeroed in on her little baby belly. Her face was pale, her eyes half-lidded when she turned to him.

He grabbed her bag and held out a hand. When she put her palm on his, he led her through the condo and up the stairs to the bedroom. He pushed her gently toward the bathroom, turning the knobs on the shower until it was warm and steaming. Still, she just stood there, exhaustion and desolation rolling off her.

There were no words between them, neither of them voicing the magnitude of what could have happened in that house if things had gone differently. That’s where he was in his mind, imagining the three Walker women trying to unsuccessfully put out the fire and how wrong that could have gone. He wanted to ask what the hell they’d been thinking but he was smarter than that.

That was his residual anger talking. His temper wanting to rise to the surface.

Instead, he pushed that aside, focusing on what she lost and how she must be feeling.

He helped her out of her shirt first, pulling it over her head as if she were a child. She didn’t look like a child, her breasts all pushed up in some kind of bra that made them almost spill out. Her leggings were next, stretching down her legs as he pulled them off, inside out. She did the honor with her underwear and bra, no muss, no fuss, and stepped into the shower under the spray of the water. The room filled with the smell of smoke, another reminder of the day’s events.

He stood in the doorway of the glass-enclosed shower, watching over her to make sure she didn’t need him. Her eyes were closed, her head tilted down, as she let the water run over her. She looked so small standing there, her usually larger-than-life personality nowhere to be seen. Her shoulders were hunched over, her arms wrapped around her middle. She breathed in deeply, her lips pressed in a tight line.

She did need him.

Dylan stepped into the shower, heedless of his clothes or shoes and pulled her into his arms.

She went willingly, letting him hold her before turning her into the spray and helping her get washed. As pliant as a rag doll, she turned when he turned her, tipped her head back when he guided her head with his hands.

When she was clean, he wrapped her in a big, fluffy towel and dried her off with gentle hands, taking care of her the way she needed. She wouldn’t have gotten that at her sister’s house or her father’s. He stripped his own clothes and wrapped a towel around his waist.

Leading her into the darkened bedroom, he pushed her to sit on the bed and unzipped her bag, doing his best to be clinical about picking her some fresh clothes to wear. His fist tightened on a particularly eye-catching red pair of panties, before shoving them aside to choose something more comfortable for her. He knelt in front of her, catching the mildly bemused look on her face as he helped her slip the underwear on, then a shirt.

She climbed into bed, looking smaller than she ever had, curled into a tiny ball.

He quickly tossed on a pair of boxers and slid in behind her, pulling her into the warmth of his arms, pressing her back against her chest. The lights from Boston Harbor lit the ceiling, creating a sort of natural nightlight that he’d always liked. The reflection of the water caught sometimes, making the colors bounce and wave in the room.

The air was quiet and still around them, peaceful even, and he hoped like hell she felt that.

“Thank you.” Her words were no more than a breath, softer than a whisper.

He pressed a kiss to the back of her head. “Shh,” he said gently. “Get some rest, baby.”