Chapter Fifteen
Waking so utterly not alone probably should have startled the hell out of Caitlin, but despite sleeping like a rock, the connection to Shane was so there that she didn’t do that sleepy morning-after double take requisite in so many of her favorite romance novels. She just felt…content. Which didn’t sound like the most exciting thing in the world, but it beat the anxiety that normally clawed its way into her morning-afters.
Especially when the guy in question was still very much there.
And God, his eyelashes. She spent way too long staring at them, hating him for their length.
The man was astutely gifted with the length of a lot of things, it seemed.
He was also still asleep, but not likely to stay that way with her gawking. People could feel that kind of attention in their sleep, couldn’t they? Back in high school, she’d wake on weekend mornings to find her cat staring at her, so stare-rousing had to be a thing.
It shouldn’t be a thing when she still had morning breath.
She hit the shower, the water like needles against her skin. Was there any part of her he hadn’t touched? And why the heck was she so willing to wash that off?
Because he’s leaving.
It didn’t matter how right he felt. It didn’t matter where this thing could go, because it couldn’t.
She was 100 percent sure she didn’t want a long-distance relationship. Maybe if they had a history that required more than one calendar page, or if there was anything temporary about their different directions. But she wasn’t going anywhere, and he wasn’t coming back. There was no compromise in that.
All of this was for the better. She didn’t need to second-guess the reason she felt better waking wound in his arms than she ever had alone. She didn’t need to worry about losing him to some needy, bubbly, D-cup woman wearing size two skinny jeans. Caitlin thought herself far more awesome than that, but guys rarely did. Call her jaded, but she didn’t need to wait for that moment.
She needed to get rid of the fire-fighting, bridge-slaying lieutenant in her bed.
But he’d gotten rid of himself.
When she left the bathroom, she found her bed empty. And made. Even the pillows were back where she kept them. Impressive, considering there’d only been a couple of seconds of observation time—in the dark, no less—before they’d skewed everything. Heat and electricity hit her, her body woefully, wonderfully sore and not the least bit chill with its recent state of being wholly, completely, devastatingly ravaged.
And then there was that tantalizing smell coming from the kitchen.
She gave herself a quick once-over with her barely discernible makeup routine and found Shane in the kitchen, frying bacon.
Shirtless.
“I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to do that,” she said.
He gave a playful grin. “Fry bacon? Please tell me you don’t eat it raw.”
Must he be such a pain? “No one eats it raw. It’s supposed to be—”
He held out a piece. “Just crispy enough to be crispy. No burnt flavor.”
She took the bacon and popped it in her mouth. Her eyes closed in what had to look like exaggerated pleasure, but it wasn’t. Not one bit. “You put this on your Tinder profile,” she said, “and you’ll have women beating down your door.”
“How does one word that?” He feigned thought. “Once you put my meat in your mouth you’re going to want to swallow?”
Her eyes widened before she could reel in the reaction. She swallowed, then flushed hotly over the fact that she’d done precisely what he’d predicted. Which was stupid, because what sane person didn’t want to swallow bacon? “Probably won’t get you the classiest of dates.”
“But does it attract hot librarians?”
If he didn’t stop calling her a librarian, she was going to…nothing. He was leaving. That problem would solve itself. “You’d have to find one to ask her.”
“You. Quit being modest.” His light, teasing tone was gone, and she wanted to tell him to stop being serious, or pretending to be, because all of the sudden she was caught up in that post-sex freak-out guys absolutely dreaded, or so she’d heard, because never had she been there, where she needed distance.
Now, not next week. She didn’t want to think about how far she’d fall in a week.
But she said none of that, instead just hitting him with yet another reminder. “I’m a bookstore owner, not a librarian.”
“And I’m not on Tinder or any other dating apps. I troll bridges.”
“You got the troll part right,” she said under her breath. Distance.
He flashed a crooked grin, then handed her another piece of bacon.
She accepted it and the cup of coffee that followed. “It’s not cinnamon-bun,” he said, “but I figured if it was in your cabinet, you’d drink it.”
“Is that what you do, Lieutenant? Take a woman to bed then forage for food?”
“Tell me honestly you weren’t starving.”
Of course she was. He stood there shirtless, for heaven’s sake. But he’d been talking about bacon, right? The man fixed breakfast for her. So maybe he wasn’t perfect. He clearly sucked at bowing out of a one-night stand.
His problem, not hers.
Whatever.
He watched her stare at his chest.
“I admit I might be starving.”
His grin suggested she’d said the absolute wrong thing, but she couldn’t deny it, however he wanted to take it. Let him gloat. Anything to drive that wedge between them so she could get on with her life.
She sipped her drink while he put the last of the bacon in the pan. The grease popped but if it hit him he didn’t flinch. Of course not. He probably couldn’t feel anything through that set of abs. It was like armor sitting there, his skin soft but the muscle beneath it rock hard. A shiver touched her spine when she remembered that body moving over hers. And inside. She’d never felt anything like him. Thick and hot, pumping and driving and grinding and—
“You are the cutest shade of red right now.”
That only made her flush more, she was sure. It was a good thing he didn’t know what she was thinking. Only he probably did.
“There’s a department picnic Saturday,” he said. “Any chance you’d be willing to go with me?”
She had to count to three. Then ten more.
He failed harder at one-night stands than anyone she knew. Frustrated, she blurted, “What are we doing here, Shane? You’re leaving, we just had a ridiculous amount of sex, you make my bed and fix breakfast, and now you want to go on a picnic?” It all sounded way too quaint, even for her, a self-professed small-town girl.
He rested a hand on his hip, drawing her attention to a V-line that could have cut butter. “And what, exactly, is wrong with that?”
He had a lot of nerve accusing her of being difficult. Was the man blind? “Mostly the part where you’re leaving,” she said.
A flicker of a shadow darkened his eyes, and then it was gone. “You’re new here, and you’re fighting technology with that business of yours. I can introduce you to people, maybe help forge a connection or two. Once you’re in with that crowd, you’re family. They’ll do anything in the world to help you succeed.”
She drew a steady breath. Maybe she’d overreacted—apparently there really was no limit to the number of mortifying moments a person could have—but her point was no less valid for it. And why was he trying to sell her on a family from which he couldn’t wait to escape? “If that’s how you feel about this place, then why are you leaving?”
He blinked, then looked away, dredging the last of the bacon from the pan. He moved the cookware from the burner and turned off the heat before he replied. “My dad was a legend in Denver and he died a hero. I’m his son. I belong there. I can keep that alive, and I can save the next guy. It’s what I was meant to do.”
“Shane, you’re doing that here.”
“Here, I walk people across bridges.” She winced at his tone, the way it suggested rescuing her was the dumbest thing he’d ever done. “I let the kids at the elementary schools see the fire engines. I get cats out of trees, and I’m not even sure why, because people are supposed to call tree companies for that. I’m meant for more.”
She crossed her arms and stared him down. “You’re everything in the world for that person who got her cat back.”
He gave a half shrug. “Maybe. But not every firefighter who loves his job wants to go into those high-rises. Me, I crave it. That’s where I belong.”
Well, all righty then. She wouldn’t be the one to argue. Not even for amazing sex. That had to be a fluke. The next time might suck, and she’d take her memories just the way he’d left them, thank you. Instead, she said, “I think I need a cat.”
His lips quirked on the verge of a smile. “Single librarian with a cat. That’s one for the Tinder profile.”
She really hoped the intensity of the dirty look she’d given him had upped a notch. “If I had one such profile, and I don’t, but if I ever did, which I won’t, I think I’d have to lead with that thing I did with my tongue that made you say filthy things.”
The smile faltered, his gaze darkening a hitch.
His reaction shouldn’t have felt as good as it did, especially considering she wasn’t sure what it meant. She only knew that she’d wiped that smug grin off his face by making him think about her with someone else.
As if.
She’d have ten cats before she could even think about not thinking about him.
She sighed. He had a point about introducing her to people, and she’d be stupid to turn down that chance. “Do you really want me to go with you to the picnic? Because if it’s just a post-sex parting gift—”
He pressed a kiss to her earlobe, then whispered, “I want you there. And also here. And possibly in another elevator.”
She smiled, because that was the thing to do, but she couldn’t help feeling melancholy. Because he could name all the places in the world, and one thing still wouldn’t change.
He didn’t want her enough to stay.
And if she ever wanted to get past this, she’d have to hold him to that.
…
Picnic day was bright and beautiful, hot but not unbearably so. Caitlin’s sister would have elbowed her and suggested maybe the firemen would cope with the heat by stripping themselves of their shirts, and Caitlin would have rolled her eyes and claimed she wasn’t interested.
Today, that would be a lie. At least when it came to one particular man.
And it was Lexi’s elbow jostling Caitlin’s ribs. “You’re staring. It’s almost adorable.”
“Only almost?”
Lexi nudged her sunglasses and crossed her arms. “You know darn well what’s under that shirt, so the gawking is almost like bragging.”
Caitlin sorely hoped that was a generic accusation, because if Lexi could look at her and tell she’d had sex with Shane, that meant Caitlin had it bad. Unfortunately, knowing better hadn’t kept her from coveting every inch of that man’s body, and she wasn’t sure if she’d want to forget it if she could.
But it wasn’t just the sex. There was another connection that went deeper, and she couldn’t put her finger on what it was, or why. Just that he wasn’t so easy to dismiss, and already it hurt like hell.
Not exactly a topic for a picnic. Instead, Caitlin gave Lexi a side eye. “I’m surprised you tore your eyes off Matt long enough to notice.”
Lexi’s brow lifted. “No denial of the gawking, and expert deflection. Color me impressed.”
“My gawking time has a definite expiration date, so I need to enjoy it while I can. What’s your excuse?”
Lexi blinked. “Excuse for what?”
“Staring at Matt.”
Lexi seemed taken aback, like she genuinely didn’t realize she watched him. Then she said, “There’s a whole legion of gorgeous men out there. I’m going to look. He just keeps getting in the way.”
Caitlin doubted the validity of that excuse, but she was one to talk. She hadn’t taken her eyes off Shane, even as she struggled with a way to get over him before she dug herself any deeper.
She was almost grateful when Lexi changed the subject. “I have an idea for your bookstore grand opening.”
Shane snatched a Frisbee from an impossible height and released it in a perfect throw. “If it involves half-naked firemen,” Caitlin said, “I wouldn’t expect people to notice the books.”
Lexi turned away from the game, and Caitlin followed as she meandered across the lawn. The sun-warmed grass tickled her toes. Shouts of children playing made her miss her sister and her nephew.
“No,” Lexi said. “Far less creative than that, I’m afraid. More like, talk to the shops on either side and do a joint promo. Free scoop of ice cream with a purchase of a children’s book, or, like, buy an encyclopedia and get a free cup of espresso so you can stay awake long enough to read it.”
Caitlin laughed. “I don’t think even that would get anyone to read an encyclopedia, but I like the idea. I’m not sure I can afford to cover the cost of the freebies, though.”
“Just talk to the shops on either side. They’d probably love to help you out. Traffic from your place will almost certainly spill over to theirs, especially if you hold this event in the evening. That whole area is packed every night of the week. It’s definitely a win-win. In fact, if you want me there to break the ice on that conversation, just name the time. We all go way back.”
“Who goes way back?” Caitlin jumped at Shane’s voice, then shivered when he put his arms around her from behind. She was also back to wanting to kick him, because she didn’t need her nipples tight and her ovaries erupting in full view of the fire department.
Let alone in front of Lexi’s watchful gaze.
“The majority of the people who live in this town,” Lexi said, arching an eyebrow. “PDA much?”
Shane had stepped around Caitlin, relieving her of one ache and adding a hundred more. She was ruined.
Stupid bridge. She hated it times ten. “Did I not just see you on the other side of the field?” Caitlin asked.
“I’m fast,” he said. “Besides, small field. Small town.”
“Not so small,” Lexi said. “Just not Denver. Besides, there’s something here you won’t find there.”
It took Lexi’s knowing glance in Caitlin’s direction for her to understand she was the something in question. Her attention skated Shane’s way in time to catch him falter, the cocky smile wavering for a split second before it rallied.
As much as she hated men who were full of themselves, she’d grown to love that smile. The first version, that was. Not the forced one he’d just thrown back.
“He’ll have an endless supply of women to rescue,” Caitlin said. “I’m pretty sure that’s a plus.”
Lexi gave him a pointed look. “And here we were all thinking he’d finally rescued one worth hanging on to.”
Oh Lord. Caitlin had to be redder than the fire engines parked in a line along one side of the road. A green expanse of parkland stretched between the bulk of the revelers and the department vehicles, though a convoy of small children stood in rapt attention around a couple of guys in turnout gear, the group inching the length of the ladder truck as the men likely introduced them its various parts and functions.
That group aside, most everyone congregated by the river. From this angle, it was the bridge that seemed imposing, towering high above the rushing current in a twisted formation of steel and concrete. The water, with sunlight glistening off the current, was no longer a dark abyss, but an endless, artistic play of light. Which didn’t keep her breath from catching when one of the children wandered near, despite the adults who stuck close.
Shane still hadn’t responded to Lexi’s teasing. Nope, he waited until the non-answer became conspicuous, until Caitlin glanced back at him, to capture her gaze and say, “She’s hard to hold.”
Lexi’s eyes widened as Caitlin’s narrowed.
He shrugged. “Tickle spots,” he said with a grin.
Caitlin was spared a response—hers or Lexi’s—when Matt approached. “Waffles is about to pull my arm off.”
Caitlin and Shane exchanged glances, until Shane said to Matt, “I don’t see a dog.”
“He was with a group of kids while we played Frisbee,” he said, “and when I took him, he insisted on stopping and getting his head scratched by everyone we passed. Fortunately, Diego saw me surrounded with throngs of women and made a comment about how the dog was a chick magnet, so I handed him the leash. As soon as he figures out they were all there for me, not the dog, he’ll be looking to hand it back. And that’s where you come in.”
Lexi rolled her eyes. “I’ll get the dog,” she said. “Maybe you should catch up with the throngs.”
“I hate to break it to you,” Shane said to Matt as Lexi stalked off. “But I’m pretty sure it’s the dog.”
Matt grinned. “I know. But Diego needs to get out there. His divorce was finalized months ago.”
“And it’ll take a lot longer than that to want to take a chance on trusting someone again,” Shane said. For Caitlin, he added, “His wife cheated on him.”
“Ouch.” Caitlin winced, though the obvious disapproval the men shared settled warmly inside her. Not that it meant anything. Shane was committed to being non-committed in another town. There was nothing for her to think about.
Matt leveled a gaze on Caitlin and Shane. “You never know. Once he sees you settling down…”
“I’m not settling,” Shane said, causing that ache in Caitlin’s chest to twist.
“No, you’re not,” Matt said, giving Caitlin a warm smile. “But she sure as hell is if she puts up with your ass. Anyway, I’m off to find the hot dog vendor. I can’t eat anything with that mutt around. Big pleading eyes get me every time.”
“Noted,” Shane said. “Remind me never to look at you that way.”
“I learned to ignore your eyelash batting years ago,” Matt said with a laugh. As he walked off, Shane took Caitlin’s hand.
For a moment she thought he was being nice, but then she realized they were headed toward the river.
She ground to a halt. “Absolutely not.”
“I promise you’ll be okay. There are dozens of firemen and women here along with half the town. If I let you fall in, I’d never live it down.”
She mock-glared as the sentiment turned into teasing arrogance. “Just for that, I should jump in.”
He spun her behind a tree, the truck a barrier between them and the rest of the picnic. “And I would go in after you.” He grazed her mouth with a soft kiss. “As often as I had to.” The next kiss was deeper, softer. She put her hands against his chest, half intending to push him away, but she ended up clutching his shirt and dragging him a notch closer.
In spite of that, she managed to whisper, “Aren’t you supposed to behave?” Thank God for the tree at her back. Not so much for the man teasing her with his mouth, alternating between nipping at her lip and pressing deeper, turning her into a squiggly mess.
“No one is within fifty yards of us,” he said, “and this tree and that little bit of brush behind it is blocking all of my misbehavior. Any more excuses?”
“Only that you’re a lieutenant and probably should be some kind of example when in the company of your entire department and half the city.”
He grinned. “I am on my best behavior.”
She took her sweet time extracting herself from the next kiss. “This is you behaving?”
“It’s the consequence of it. Not touching you is driving me crazy.”
“I hope Denver knows what’s coming, then.”
His grin faltered. He took a step back, eliciting a pang from her chest that promised more in the coming weeks. But the moment passed, and before that lump in her throat could fully form, he’d managed to lose the darkest corners of his expression and snag her hand.
She didn’t ask what happened, or what he’d been thinking. She just let it go.
She needed the practice.
With the moment drifting behind them on a light breeze, she followed him, fingers laced, the gesture feeling a lot more complicated than it looked on the surface. It was so casual, something boyfriends did. But he wasn’t her boyfriend. He wasn’t hers at all. But it belied a certain intimacy—one that may have existed, at least in terms of physical familiarity, but wasn’t something she’d expect him to advertise.
Lost in thought, trailing a step behind on the narrow path, she let her focus drift to the planes of his back where his damp tee clung to his muscles, and didn’t realize they’d reached the river until he stopped. She balked a step behind him, but a gentle tug at her hand had her standing at his side.
“I’ve got you,” he said. “The curve in the river here means the water is almost still. I thought you might want to put your toes in.”
“You thought wrong.” She only had half a fight in her. The truth was she did trust him. She just wasn’t sure she wanted to add this to the list of things for which she’d forever remember him. Water was a pretty broad, damning category.
He laughed, then caught sight of her face and quickly sobered. “I’m not discounting your fear. I get it. But this is one step I know you can take.”
She worried her lip, grappling with the truth. She had no reason to tell him. He’d be out of her life as quickly as he entered it, but she still needed him to understand. “When I was a teenager,” she explained, “I was in the truck with my parents and my sister and a flash flood hit from a storm in the next county. The water came out of nowhere. No storm clouds. Just moonlight on all that churning water and the feeling of the truck being carried away. I still can’t look at rushing water.”
“Was anyone hurt?”
She forced a smile. “Just my lasting psychological damage.”
“But you made it, sweetheart,” he said tenderly. “As bad as that was, you survived. This is nothing. You can do this.”
“Or I could live my entire life and never touch this water.”
“Or,” he argued gently, “you could live the rest of your life knowing you stepped out of your comfort zone and into this river.”
“What does it matter to you?” As soon as she asked, she realized the answer. Another notch in his hero totem pole.
But nothing in his expression supported that. Sincerity touched his eyes when he told her, “Because when I think of you, I want to know you conquered your biggest fear.”
He’d rather associate her with a river than sex that had actually knocked plaster off the wall? She could have kicked herself for the way that irritated her. “What if it’s not my biggest fear?” she asked. What if her biggest fear was him? And the way he made her feel.
The fact that he’d soon be gone.
“Then you have no excuse.” He toed off his shoes then tugged off his socks. A couple of rolls to his department-issue pant legs later, he’d stepped into the water. It barely rippled around his ankles. “See? Nothing to it. You’ve got this.”
Her heart hammered, but she kicked off her sandals and took a tentative step in. The ice-cold water took her breath.
Or maybe it was him.
The current lapped at her feet, where sunlight danced on the surface above her toes. He took her hand and held tightly, offering reassurance that in no way should have come from him. She’d have better luck holding onto water through her open palm than she would Shane, but her heart still felt the warmth.
Traitor.
“You’re fine,” he said.
She forced a smile. It came easier this time than most. “Of course I am. I’m standing in two inches of water.”
He grinned. “Want to go deeper?”
“No way.” But wasn’t she? By the freaking millisecond. Fortunately, her stomach growled, saving her the indignity of examining that thought. Even if he stayed in Dry Rock, he wasn’t what she wanted. He wanted to fix her, and she thought she was just fine how she was.
Mostly.
She really needed to get her mind off him and back on her work. She had a store to open and Lexi’s offer to help, which took the edge off approaching the adjacent shop owners. Already, she felt more pulled together.
Except with Shane. He pulled her apart.
He let her go. It probably had more to do with the fact that she stood in two inches of water—which, river aside, wasn’t any huge accomplishment—and was less of a symbolic gesture, but she felt the sting of the symbolism all the same.
“You did it,” he said.
She wasn’t sure how she felt about the pride in his voice. “There are toddlers fifty yards downstream who are also doing it.”
“But they’re not doing it as awesomely as you are,” he said, cupping a hand to the back of her head and pulling her toward him for a kiss.
“Those less awesome toddlers and their parents can see you,” she said against his mouth.
“Damned dress code. Makes me too easy to recognize.” He shook his head good-naturedly and stepped out of the water. He slid back into his shoes and socks, and she, her sandals. “I’m starving. Want to check out the food?”
“Sure.” Actually, she was a bit nervous about joining the thick of the crowd. She’d said hello to plenty of people, and Lexi had introduced her around, but that was without Shane. With him, the muddled state of their not-a-relationship took a front seat, and not even she knew what to think.
Especially not after he took her hand and walked directly toward a throng of fifty or more people, as if he wanted everyone to assume they were together when he’d made it clear she couldn’t even assume as much.
The food tables were packed. Served buffet style, with a lot of meat. Typical man-centric kind of thing, she supposed.
Shane paused near a pile of what looked like breaded, kettle-cooked potato chips and gave her a devilish grin. “Ever had Rocky Mountain Oysters?” he asked.
A man behind Caitlin cleared his throat. “Son, if she eats one of those without knowing what they are, Denver won’t be far enough for you to escape.”
Shane laughed and shook hands with whoever it was. “Chief Holloway,” he said, “Meet Caitlin Tyler, new proprietor of Shelf Indulgence. Caitlin, this is the chief. Has been for as long as I can remember.”
Caitlin took in his friendly smile and grandfatherly salt-and-pepper hair and immediately liked him. He took and patted her hand, cocking his head toward Shane. “Shame to lose this one,” he said. “Damned shame.”
“Andrew, watch your language.” A woman with kind eyes and a playfully disapproving frown leaned in and chided him. “And this must be Caitlin. It’s so nice to meet you.”
“Elizabeth Holloway,” Shane said. “The woman who keeps the chief in line.”
“No small feat,” she said with a smile, “but landing this guy?” She looked toward Shane. “Now that is an accomplishment.”
Caitlin just stood there, battling feelings of embarrassment and the urge to flee. She’d worried she and Shane might give the wrong impression by coming together to the picnic, but she’d let that be his call. She had no idea the rumors had flowed this fast and hard.
And now two very nice-seeming people were looking at her like she’d pulled some kind of miracle. “Seems Dry Rock might have an edge on Denver after all,” the chief said.
It would have been a big miracle, had she pulled it off.
“It’s so nice to meet you both,” Caitlin said, ignoring the shadow that crossed Shane’s face at the chief’s words. Did he hate being linked with her that much? He couldn’t, because he’d insisted. She figured she’d get him alone and ask him, or at least find out if he wanted her to bail, but she didn’t get the chance.
The chief’s radio squawked. Shane and a couple of the firemen who stood nearby paused long enough to listen, then the majority of them—chief included—jumped into action, saying good-byes and disposing of food plates.
“Got a call,” Shane said. “It’s my shift.” He dropped a kiss on her mouth before he took off with the rest of them. She watched as several pieces of equipment peeled from the line, sirens blaring. A number of department members hung back, undeployed, but the mood had shifted.
Once the vehicles had disappeared in the direction of the highway, many of the families left behind began to pack up picnic blankets and lawn chairs. Caitlin turned back to the chief’s wife. “What, exactly, is a Rocky Mountain Oyster?”
“Calf testicles,” she said. “Sliced and deep fried.”
“I would have killed him,” Caitlin said, side-eyeing Lexi, who had just joined them with an enormous dog attached by a leash.
“And he’d have come back for more,” Lexi said.
“Is that a horse?” Caitlin asked, ignoring the commentary about Shane.
“Nah. It’s just Waffles. He’s a mastiff. And a pain in the butt. I need to get him home before he takes out you, me, and every bite of food left on the table. Otherwise, I’d help you stay and clean up.” She directed the last part toward Mrs. Holloway.
“No need to remind me,” the older woman said with a laugh. “That was the most memorable Christmas parade yet. My granddaughters still ask about the dog that knocked over Santa.”
“Not just Santa,” Lexi said. “The whole sleigh.”
“The sleigh?” Caitlin repeated.
“Yes,” Mrs. Holloway said. “And guess who was in it, playing Santa?”
“Chief Holloway?” Caitlin asked.
“None other.”
Lexi laughed, though it was interrupted by a fierce tug on the leash. “He still reminds me of that moment every chance he gets.”
“I would, too,” Caitlin said. “You go. I’ll help with the food.” She was grateful to have something to do. Something other than trying to figure out this dead-end thing with Shane, which in and of itself was a dead-end thing. She sighed. “If you can use my help, that is.”
“That would be lovely,” Mrs. Holloway said. “To be honest, I’m dying to find out how you snagged that man.”
“Aren’t we all,” Lexi said with a snort. “I’m out of here before this turns into a Shirley MacLaine incident.” No sooner than the words left her mouth, the dog took off, nearly dragging Lexi.
“Good luck,” Caitlin called after her.
“She needs your luck,” Mrs. Holloway said. “That Shane, he’s as sweet as can be. Great at his job, of course, but he’s never kept a woman around long. He’s always wanting to move on to greener pastures.”
Sweet? Ha. Okay, maybe a little, but greener pastures? Oddly, the same thing his friends had accused him of that night she’d been introduced to them at the diner. Caitlin frowned. “I doubt there are many pastures in Denver.”
Mrs. Holloway tsked. “He misses his dad. He truly was a hero and he died that way. We all felt that loss, even before we knew the family, but I don’t think anyone felt it like Shane did.”
“How long ago did it happen?” Caitlin wanted to know—wanted him to be okay—even though it only dragged her deeper into this world that only pretended to be hers.
Mrs. Holloway halted her cleanup, staring momentarily toward the sky. “Twenty years now, I think it’s been.”
Shane would have been about ten then. Several yards away, a little boy, half that, ran and leaped into the arms of a man wearing a fire department shirt. A woman stood nearby, a toddler on her hip, beaming at the pair.
Caitlin couldn’t imagine that kind of loss.
“It’s a dangerous job,” Mrs. Holloway said, following Caitlin’s gaze, “but they take so many precautions. I think a lot of us on the back lines are lulled into a comfort zone. These men and women are heroes. To our children, they’re invincible. It’s impossible to imagine the worst that could happen, and when it does, it’s not something you ever really get over.”
“What happened to Shane’s dad?” Caitlin asked.
“There was a fire in a high-rise. The building was supposedly clear, but Shane’s dad swore he saw someone in an upper window. Half the crew argued with him, but he wouldn’t listen. Went right back up those stairs and found a young woman. He managed to point her in the direction of a fire escape, she said, but he couldn’t get through the same hole in his gear, so he radioed down that he was taking the stairs. That was the last anyone heard from him. There had been a partial collapse inside, and he was pinned.”
Caitlin felt something hot and wet on her cheek and found herself wiping away a tear. Shane’s words from the day her air conditioner caught fire came back to her. And then the goddamned ceiling collapses. He’d startled her then with the sharp words. Now, she understood.
“That woman would have died without him,” Mrs. Holloway continued. “I understand Shane wanting to make that kind of difference. Everyone in the department does. But he needs to fill that hole in himself before he runs off to save an entire city. His father’s legacy isn’t in Denver. It’s inside Shane. I hoped he’d figure that out before he left us.” She smiled and patted Caitlin on the shoulder. “I’m glad he found you.”
“I’m not sure he has,” Caitlin stammered.
Mrs. Holloway handed Caitlin a plate and piled it high with barbecue and coleslaw. “You haven’t been here long enough to see the difference in him,” she said. “The rest of us…well, I’d just about given up, but maybe it’s not too late after all.”