Linx couldn’t put it off any longer. This thing with Jessie ate away at her, and tore her heart to pieces. She texted Grady a simple message.

I have a huge secret and you’re not going to like it. Meet me at my place.

There was no ignoring such a message, and sure enough, he texted back. Coming over.

Date night had been a new beginning, and tonight would be the dreaded end.

The fact that Grady didn’t ask her what the secret was about meant he had an inkling.

Swallowing the bile that surged from her gut, she brushed her teeth and took a quick shower. She wasn’t going to flash him a boob or use sex to soften the blow.

There would be no makeup. No perfume. No sexy dress. No bare thighs.

She would face his wrath head on and endure the aftermath, whatever it was.

Cedar alerted her that Grady was at the door, so she hurriedly pulled a Dickies work shirt over her camisole and patted her damp hair down.

Slipping her feet into flip-flops, she shuffled down the stairs and threw open the door.

Grady stood there, his face foreboding and grim, his eyebrows clenched and his jaw tight.

“What’s this big secret you’re keeping from me?”

Instead of answering, she took his hand.

It was stiff and unresponsive, but at least he didn’t twist out of her grasp.

“Come upstairs and let me show you.”

His mouth twisted to one side, and he narrowed his eyes, but he didn’t resist.

Gingerly, she led him up to her room up on the loft—her most private sanctuary.

“Have a seat.” She patted her futon and opened the drawer on her nightstand.

He stood at the doorway, looking around her room, his eyes suspicious. “I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I’m tired of it. Tell me what you did to my baby.”

Boom. She bent over, crumpling as if he’d punched her in the gut. Her hand shaking, she dug through the top drawer, setting aside her gun and Bible until she found what she was looking for.

Two of her most precious photos.

She handed him the first picture, and he raised an eyebrow. “Why are you showing me this?”

It was a picture taken of them back in her training days. In it, she and Grady sat on the grass at the town square. She was wearing a white tank top and black jeans with holes across both knees and he was holding her, happy, as if they had forever in front of them.

It was right before he told her he was going away, and asked her not to wait for him.

“I want you to remember us that day. When you asked me to meet you in the park, on that field of wildflowers, I thought you were about to propose to me. I thought you were offering me forever. Instead …”

“I broke your heart,” he finished for her.

“No, my heart is too hard to break.” Even now, she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. “You rejected me, but you know what? It made me tougher and stronger.”

He flapped the picture in front of her. “Were you pregnant at the time?”

She nodded. “But I didn’t know it.”

“Where’s the baby now?”

Linx unveiled the second picture. It was Jessie within a few hours of birth. Her eyes were closed and her tiny fists were clenched tight.

Grady drew in a thick breath. “Who is this?”

“Your daughter, Jessie.”

“You gave her away? How could you? You never told me.” Grady’s words lanced through Linx’s heart as she clutched his shirt and collapsed onto her futon. Her pulse thudded behind both ears, and she gasped for breath.

“You didn’t want anything to do with me. What else could I do?” Linx averted her gaze, unable to withstand the way Grady’s narrowed eyes drilled into her soul. “You said I lied.”

“Dates, Linx. Tell me the dates.”

“She was born in July.”

“Was she early?”

“Full term. I thought she was early, but she was actually late. So late, she almost died.” Linx turned her face into her pillow as Cedar came up behind her and nudged her, trying to comfort her.

It no longer mattered what Grady thought about her. Nothing mattered other than Jessie. She’d given her a better life with normal parents—the kind who went to church and read her bedtime stories. A father who coached softball and a mother who doted on her, celebrating every birthday with a party and showered her with love, pretty dresses, cookies, dance lessons, and toys.

“I, I don’t know what to say.” Grady laid down next to her. “Why did you wait so long to contact me?”

“I didn’t know if I was still pregnant.” Linx wiped her eyes. “I had bleeding. I thought I wasn’t pregnant, so I counted from the wrong date. I didn’t know until she was born that she was full term.”

“You didn’t get prenatal care?” Grady swept her hair aside, his voice kinder.

“I didn’t want anyone to know.”

“You didn’t tell your family?”

“Not at the time.” She didn’t have a mother who cared, and Tami was off in college. She was a nineteen-year-old—she was in denial, wishing it would go away.

“Only Salem knew, and she said if I had a miscarriage, then no one needed to know. But then the baby kept growing.”

“Salem was with you?”

“Yes, she was the only one who knew. I didn’t even tell my family I was back. They thought I was smokejumping with you. Salem got all my groceries and I basically hid from everyone.”

“And you tried to contact me?”

“Yes, I texted and tried calling—left messages. You didn’t answer.” Linx turned her face away from the concern, years too late, written on Grady’s face.

“When was this?”

“December, around Christmas when Salem said you were back in San Francisco.”

Grady blinked, jolting and stiffening at the same time. “I didn’t come home that Christmas. I was in Australia. Why would Salem know where I was?”

“She said she kept in touch with you. She gave me your phone number, and I called, but you never answered. I texted and texted, left you messages.”

“I never heard from you until March.” Grady’s voice was tight. “Why so late.”

Blood drained from her head as horror flooded her heart. “I never called or texted you in March. I gave up by then.”

“No, I definitely got text messages from you, accusing me of knocking you up and threatening me with a lawsuit. You were texting me so much, I had to change my phone number. You even blackmailed me, said if I didn’t pay for your pregnancy costs, you’d accuse me of sexual harassment. I even called you and told you to back off.”

“It wasn’t me you called.” Linx clawed at Grady and pounded on his chest. “I would never blackmail you. Never. All I wanted was you to let me know what to do with the baby. You have to believe me.”

His stare was hard and steady, and a vein twitched on his forehead. “No wonder you didn’t say anything when I yelled at you.”

Linx held his gaze, unflinching. Her pulse quaked as she shuddered with anger. “Believe me, if I heard from you before Jessie was born, I would have screamed at you to come back. Instead, I got a text message telling me you denied everything and to get rid of the baby.”

“I would never say something like that.” He snarled as if he were falsely accused.

“Yes, you would. Right before Jessie was born, you sent me a nasty letter. You accused me of lying. You said the baby wasn’t yours and you never, ever wanted to hear from me again. So … I … gave her … away … to give her a better life.”

“My lawyer told me to send you written notice. I was going to countersue you for defamation.” Grady slapped his palms onto the futon, startling Cedar who jumped and squared off against him. “It’s because the dates were all wrong.”

“I didn’t know the baby was coming in July,” Linx wailed. “I was hiding in the mountains—in your cabin. I couldn’t let my family know. If Salem hadn’t come to bring my groceries that day, both Jessie and I would have died. My water broke and then I was in an ambulance, and everything happened so fast. Please don’t hate me.”

“I don’t hate you.” Grady wrapped her into his arms and cradled her. “I’m pissed at myself. I should have come to check it out. I shouldn’t have stayed away. I’ve a feeling the text messages you sent went to Salem, and then she texted me the blackmail threats. She must have sent the text telling you to get rid of it. God knows, I would never ask you to do that. No wonder she was so smug the entire time she was on the fire crew, like she knew something.”

“I thought she was my friend. I saved her life that day when she got hurt. I thought she cared about me.” Linx wasn’t sure why she was babbling, except she was numb and aching at the same time. “I blew it. I really blew it.”

“No, I did. I should have come home when I got those messages. I should have called you.”

“You did, once, after Jessie was born, and you sounded so suspicious and pissed. At that point, I didn’t care anymore, so I told you nothing happened. I thought I’d never see you again, that it wouldn’t matter.”

“Because I’d been such an ass.” Grady knocked his forehead against hers. Tears sprinkled on his eyelashes as he gazed into her eyes. “Now what? Can we get her back?”

“I don’t know. You’ve met her. Isn’t she wonderful? Isn’t she precious?”

“She’s adorable, and I’m so glad she got Betsy back. She’s such a determined kid, so much like you.” Grady wiped his eyes and smiled at the same time. “What do we do now? Will her mother let us talk to her?”

“Her mother doesn’t know you’re the father,” Linx said.

“But she’s mine, you’re sure?” He lifted an eyebrow and swallowed. “I’ve always been so careful with birth control.”

“We got blasted drunk after that last fire …” Linx’s voice was little more than a whisper. “The one where the fire rolled over us and we had to hide under the fire shelter.”

“I wasn’t sure you made it.” Grady’s voice softened and that old familiar look, the one that melted her heart, reflected on his rugged face.

“I thought I’d die if you didn’t make it.” Linx moved closer, her eyes locked to his, then closed them when he pressed his lips over hers.

He kissed her, softly and slowly, his hands and fingers stroking her, comforting her, and she let her tears mingle with his. All she’d ever wanted was him to acknowledge her, to believe her, and most of all, to trust her.

He tasted different, sweeter, and more tender—like he was baring his soul with the whisper of a kiss. And she didn’t want it to end, this peaceful, soothing, blissful state of receiving comfort.

She came up for air and gazed into his eyes. “I’m so sorry. So sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“I’m the one who’s sorry.” He feathered his rough fingers down the side of her cheek. “I should have believed you.”

“If you had believed me, would things have been different? Would you have come back?”

“Yes. I would never have left you alone and pregnant. I should have known those weren’t your texts. I’m still kicking myself. I don’t know if I can live with this. I hate myself so much.” Grady’s face scrunched, and he sat up with his elbows over his knees. He pinched the bridge of his nose and drew in a shuddering breath. “I don’t know if I can go on, knowing how I screwed up.”

“We both screwed up.” Linx wrapped her arms around him, resting her head on his shoulder. The man was broken about this. It was too much to take in all at once. Ironically, this was exactly what she’d wanted—him to hurt as much as she had been hurting.

But all of this hadn’t been his fault. It had all come down to Salem intercepting their messages and twisting them around for her own enjoyment.

And now, Salem was dead, and there were rumors she was pregnant with Grady’s baby.

“One more question,” Linx said, knowing it would bug her if she didn’t ask. “Was Salem pregnant by you when she died?”

Grady rose to his feet and paced around her tiny loft, then knocked his head against the wall.

Linx waited. A pit grew in her belly as the silence dragged on. Did it really matter? Salem was dead now and so was the baby she was carrying.

Grady cursed under his breath. “You deserve to know everything about me. I owe that to you, and if you choose to have nothing to do with me, it’s what I deserve.”

“The baby was yours?”

“It could have been.” Grady’s voice was a deadpan. “She sort of went through the crew.”

“What did you whisper to her before her last jump?” Linx put a hand on Grady’s back and leaned against him, wanting to comfort him.

“That Paul had gotten her a ring, and that she’d better be sure whose baby she was carrying. I wanted her to stop lying. She picked Paul because he’s loaded, but he’s my buddy, and I didn’t want him to be hurt.”

“You had sex with your buddy’s girlfriend?”

“No, it happened before she hooked up with Paul. Then I tried to stay away, but she kept throwing herself at me. Hounding me, wanting to make me fight for her. You know how it is in the fire camp. It’s no excuse, and I shouldn’t have gotten involved with her.”

“I’m sorry.” Linx hung her head. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Me either. We both effed up, and I’m going to fix it.” He ran his fingers through his thick hair and left.

“What are you going to do?” Linx trailed after him as he jogged down the stairs.

“What do you think?”

* * *

“What do you usually do when you eff up?” Linx answered his question with a question.

He ran. Or he hid and withdrew.

But that cowardly behavior was what had brought on this disaster in the first place.

“I fix it,” Grady declared, hoping his voice was firm enough. “I undo the damage, which means I want Jessie back.”

“I don’t think you should do anything about it.” Linx stepped back and studied him as if he were a sick puppy. “Jessie has a home, a very happy one. Her father teaches high school and is the town pastor. Her mother’s a homemaker and the church pianist. They love her to pieces.”

Grady’s jaw tightened and a whirlwind stirred inside him. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted to explode. “I never gave consent for the adoption.”

“You weren’t in the picture.”

“Because you didn’t try hard enough to contact me and you lied to me.” He turned away from her. “Isn’t this more important than your hurt feelings?”

“You wanted nothing to do with me.” Her eyes blazed and she clenched her fists. “You told me to leave you alone.”

“You didn’t have to take it literally. If it’s this important, you should have sent me proof. Or told me before the adoption was final. They have a grace period when you can change your mind.” His head throbbed as his pulse thundered behind his ears. “I’m sorry for being a jerk, but I can’t just stand here and let those two strangers, no matter how good they are, raise my kid.”

“You’re the stranger as far as Jessie is concerned.”

“Thanks to you.” He strode toward the door. He had to put some distance between them or he’d say something hurtful. Seemed like she’d already taken the Pattersons’ side. No loyalty or concern for him—as usual.

“Where are you going?” Linx followed him “You can’t just go barging into Jessie’s life.”

He whirled around and glared at her. “I screwed up, but that doesn’t mean I have to accept this. All these years, you got to see Jessie grow up, got to be her friend, and I got nothing. Why did you wait so long to fess up?”

“I wanted to tell you, but I was afraid you’d break up with me.”

“What’s there to break up?” He rolled his eyes and shook his head with frustration. “Last night, when I trusted you, you could have come clean and said something. Instead, you acted like the worst thing you ever did was steal my dog.”

“I didn’t want to ruin the mood.” Linx stopped in front of him, horning into his personal space. “But now I see you were playing a game with me. You’re right. We don’t have anything worth breaking up. Certainly not the “I hate you” sex. It’s sick. All of it. Go ahead and walk away. Now you know everything.”

He winced at the “I hate you” sex part. But then, he’d been determined to hurt her, too, for what he’d believed were her lies and blackmail threats.

“Right, now I know.” He sneered at her. “Are there any other surprises you have for me?”

“No. It’s all out now.”

“How about when you stayed at my cabin—without my permission, I might add.”

“You’d given me a key, and you were away.” She tilted her head and curled her lip. “I needed a place to stay, and I was carrying your baby. I felt I was justified.”

“Maybe.” He ground his teeth as the knot in his stomach grew. “Did you also feel justified in burning my cabin down?”

“You think I burned it down?” Linx’s eyebrows shot up and she jabbed a finger at him. “See what I mean? You always think the worst of me. You think I’m evil, don’t you?”

“I’m asking you a question. Just like you asked me about Salem and her baby.” Grady’s head throbbed with a splitting headache, but he couldn’t let her denials derail him. “Answer it without all the hysterics. Did you burn down my cabin?”

“No. I would never burn it down or hurt Cedar.”

Despite his rage, relief swarmed over him. Of course, he didn’t believe she would have done such a heinous thing as to hurt a dog.

“Right, I believe you,” he finally admitted.

“Then why did you accuse me?” She threw up her hands and made an exasperated noise.

“Just clearing the decks. Anything else before I leave?”

“You’re leaving?” Her voice stuttered, but she quickly regained control. “Nothing else. We’re even. I effed with you and you effed with me. We’re both psychopaths and we don’t even deserve each other.”

“Right, so this is goodbye.” He gave her a mock salute.

“Pretty much.” Linx pursed her lips so tight, her jaw wrinkled. “Thanks for leaving Cedar with me.”

The dog, who had been slinking around during their altercation, perked up and wagged her tail, looking at Grady with an unsure expression.

“You’re a good girl.” He patted her, soothing the worry off her face. “The best.”

He opened the door, and Linx didn’t stop him.

His feet felt like they were mired in wet concrete, and his heart was crushed under a steamroller.

He was the lonely man, a rolling stone, stripped bare and clean—no moss and no entanglements.

Except he had a daughter, and he was going to fight for her with all he had.