All It Takes, page 11
part #1 of Light My Fire Series Series
Hours later, I woke in the darkness. I was curled against Wes’s side, the human equivalent of a barnacle. One of my knees was hooked over his. My arm was curled across his stomach, and my head was tucked into the curve of his shoulder. I could feel his arm wrapped around my shoulders with his palm resting just above the curve of my bottom.
I felt safe and protected. Almost. The moment that feeling flickered into my awareness, all the voices that held my baggage, carried the heavy weight of distrust, of never believing that even good people got the love they deserved clamored to be heard. Only once before had those voices fallen silent because it was a friend, someone I thought I could trust, who had betrayed me. Just now, those voices shouted out through the haze of sleep, snapping me awake abruptly and reminding me everything was fragile. Even thinking maybe I was safe, maybe I was okay was a risk.
Those voices at this moment were powerful. Yet the need to savor the way I felt was actually stronger. Perhaps it was the darkness, or maybe it was the way Wes held me in his sleep. He was still asleep. I could feel the rhythm of his breath where my palm rested on his chest—slow and steady, following the beat of his heart.
I heard a tail swishing on the floor and smiled to myself. Nilla was mostly with Wes, but she had spent a few nights with me when Ross was there. She often wagged her tail in her sleep.
Wes shifted, not waking, but his palm moved in a soothing circle on my bottom. I almost giggled but sobered instantly. I’d gone out of my way to build a fortress around my heart, to ensure a moat and a gate and walls and battlements all aligned to keep my heart safe.
It wasn’t working out that way with Wes. I’d had too much faith in myself, too much faith in those old habits.
I felt vulnerable, soft inside, as if Wes had shimmied through a crack in my defenses—not because he was trying to trap me but because I hadn’t been prepared. I hadn’t believed someone like him existed, not for me.
I breathed in slowly and heard another swish of Nilla’s tail on the floor. Wes’s palm slid halfway up my back, then back down as he mumbled something in his sleep. His arm tightened, just barely, around me, holding me even closer. Even safer.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Tiffany
I leaned against the tiled wall of the shower, trying to catch my breath as my heartbeat galloped and pleasure scattered through me in a shower of sparks. I dragged my eyes open to find Wes’s eyes waiting.
He’d just fucked me against the wall and only a moment ago eased me down from his hold as he withdrew from me. I could see the rapid beat of his pulse at the base of his throat, his own breath coming rapidly.
“Fuck me, Tiffany,” he said, his voice husky.
“You just did.”
He chuckled, his head falling to rest on the curve of my neck.
Somehow, we gathered ourselves and actually took care of the business of showering. At one point, I turned, leaning my head back to rinse my hair.
Wes’s hand slid down my spine smoothly because soap was still running down my back from the shampoo I’d been rinsing out of my hair when this all started.
When I lifted my head, Wes asked, “What’s the scar on your back?”
His thumb traced over the scar. For a moment, I stiffened. I took a breath, letting it out quickly. “I’m fine, but I had a tumor. It’s going to sound weird,” I warned as I turned to face him.
He leaned back, his gaze sobering as he waited.
Because I was me and whenever I was nervous, I could launch into way too much, I gave him this long explanation.
“I started having these pains in my back, not like a muscle. They would just happen randomly it seemed. They were awful, like lightning in my body.” His eyes went wide. “I know it sounds weird. Anyway, I went to the doctor, and they said I had a tumor. It was freaking terrifying because they sent me to an orthopedic oncology doctor. They assured me that maybe it was okay, but that an orthopedist surgeon needed to operate in case it was malignant. If it wasn’t malignant, then I would be fine. The biopsy was hell. The poor guy told me that he was going to numb the area, but that he needed me to know that if it was a peripheral nerve sheath tumor, that I would feel it anyway. Well, that’s exactly what it was, a nerve sheath tumor. It was benign.” I ran out of words and took a deep breath.
Wes studied me for a moment before shaking his head. “You could’ve said that part first.”
“I told you I was fine,” I protested.
“You did, but then you started with tumor and oncology and the whole thing.”
I pressed my lips together, shrugging lightly. “I guess I did.”
“Do you have to worry about it coming back?”
I shook my head and shrugged at the same time.
His brows hitched up slightly. “Is that a “no” or “maybe”?”
“Probably not, but there’s no guarantee,” I said, trying to ignore the sneaky sense of vulnerability that slithered through me.
I didn’t like how I felt when this whole thing happened. Just talking about it now reminded me that I still hadn’t spoken to my father and Chase about it. I felt stupid about it. Why was I hiding this from them? I’d simply panicked when they made the original referral to an orthopedic oncologist. After hiding it, now it felt even bigger even though I was fine.
Wes nodded slowly. “There’s no guarantee for anything, I suppose. You don’t want to keep talking about this,” he observed, the gentleness in his gaze causing my heart to twist sharply in my chest.
“No,” I said honestly. “Not really.”
“Do you mind that I asked?”
I shook my head quickly. “It’s just weird, you know. Everything turned out okay, but it was a little scary until I knew it was benign.”
“I bet.”
He dipped his head, brushing a kiss along the side of my neck, his touch gentle and intimate. He tugged me away from the wall and pulled me back under the water. We finished our shower, toweled off, and got dressed. It was all very mundane. I didn’t make a habit of spending the night or showering with anyone.
Until I had let my friends-with-benefits situation turn into something more, I hadn’t even spent the night with a man. Sex was just sex, or that was how I’d treated it. I wasn’t even sure I had loved Scott, but I had trusted him. I had let my feelings begin to deepen into something more. I was breaking all of my rules with Wes. The potential complications were monumental.
A little while later, we were having coffee and pancakes. I finished chewing a bite, chasing it with a swallow of coffee. “These are really good.”
He waggled his eyebrows. “I’m decent in the kitchen.”
I grinned. “Between dinner and this, you’ve proven to be more than decent. Where do you get the blueberries?”
“My mom has a bunch that grows wild in her yard. She picks them every year and freezes them.”
“How’s her recovery going?”
“It’s going.” He sighed. “She’s pretty stubborn. She wants to do all the things before she’s ready.”
“It would be hard for me to rest. I get it. I’m sure you’d be the same way,” I teased before taking another bite of pancake and enjoying the little burst of flavor from the blueberries scattered through them.
“Absolutely,” Wes agreed.
When I smiled over at him, my heart tumbled in my chest, and I abruptly changed the subject. “Do you miss George?”
He finished his last bite and set his fork down. After he swallowed, he nodded. “I do. Couldn’t see each other all that much, but we played online games weekly and texted. Whenever I log in to play with Ross now, I think about him. What about you? Do you miss Sarah?”
I nodded. “She was my best friend when we were younger. Life does get in the way, but we stayed in touch. We used to text, usually a few times a week. I still can’t believe they’re both gone.”
A rush of emotion hit me. My throat felt tight, and tears stung my eyes. I reached for my coffee, taking a quick swallow and savoring the sharp flavor.
“It’s weird, huh?” he prompted.
His tone was understanding. When I met his eyes again, I saw grief and sadness held in his gaze and knew he understood.
“It is,” I agreed. “Maybe after we weren’t living in the same place, we didn’t see each other that much, but she was still a presence in my life for years. Now she’s gone.”
“And now we have Ross.”
“Should we be worried?” I blurted out.
He studied me quietly. “About us?”
I nodded jerkily.
He was quiet for several beats before offering, “Maybe we should be, but I don’t want to be. This feels like something more, Tiffany.”
I couldn’t believe what I said next. “Maybe it feels like something more for me too.” My tears were still threatening, and they weren’t just about missing my old friend.
He reached across the table and curled his hand over mine, his thumb brushing across the back. “Maybe?” he teased.
I looked down at my coffee mug, tracing my thumb along the handle. “Maybe.” When I lifted my eyes to his, I answered honestly, “I’m not great at relationships.”
“It’s not a sport.” He shrugged.
His simple reply, how unworried he was, soothed and was precisely what I needed. My lips curled in a smile. “What time do we pick up Ross?”
“Archer texted me this morning that they’re taking the boys cross-country skiing. He said they should be back this afternoon. Let’s go do something.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Wes
“Hey, hey!” Levi Phillips said, walking past me as he clapped me on the shoulder and stopped beside me where I was standing by a table at Wildlands Bar & Restaurant.
I cast him a grin. “Hey, dude. How’ve you been?”
“At the moment, I’m starving,” Levi said flatly.
Graham looked up from where he stood on the other side of the table. The server had just wiped it down and gestured to it. “All yours, guys.”
Usually once or twice a week, a number of us firefighters met here to grab dinner and sometimes drinks. Just as I was sitting down with Graham and Levi, Russell and Rowan approached with Chase right behind them. Within a few minutes, Beck and Cade had joined us, along with Ward and Donovan. “Big group tonight,” I observed.
Chase, who ended up sitting beside me, replied, “We’re all starving.”
“How’s the baby sleeping?” Beck asked.
“Okay,” Chase said. “I think. I’m trying to wake up whenever he needs to nurse, but he always wants Hallie.”
“You’re not officially a feeding station,” Beck offered with a wry grin.
“Beck is the parenting expert,” Ward interjected.
“I’m the only one with two kids, so I’ve done it twice, dude.”
I watched as they teased each other, relieved Chase was distracted. I sensed he was perceptive and might pick up on anything going on between Tiffany and me. Just having him around reminded me of what had passed between us, more than once now. The thing was, I was falling for her. Hell if I knew how her brother would feel about that. Although we were on the same crew together at work, work didn’t mean spending a lot of downtime together, at least not yet. With it being winter, we did training exercises and occasionally subbed in for the town crew if they needed help here and there. Come summer, we’d be out fighting fires together all the time.
Our drinks and food arrived, and the conversation rolled along. We talked about the upcoming fire season and joked about who wanted to help with a new volunteer firefighter program Maisie was organizing.
Graham glanced over at Beck. “So whose idea was this volunteer program?”
Beck waggled his eyebrows. “Maisie, but not really because we used to have it before. Do you remember Carol?”
“Of course I do,” Graham replied. “She was the center of the universe at the station since I was a kid. Then Maisie took over.”
Beck nodded. “Carol handled the volunteer program. The year after she passed away and Maisie was originally just filling in her position—”
Russell cut in, “Maisie was cranky until you two got together.”
Beck chuckled. “It wasn’t just me. That was a rough year for her. The program kind of died on the vine, and nobody even thought to tell Maisie about it. She’s been saying she wanted to get it back up and running for a while now. I will definitely be helping with it. Don’t you guys break her heart by not helping.”
Levi, seated beside Beck, slid an arm around Beck’s shoulders, giving him a sideways back-slapping hug. “You know we’ll all help. If I recall, it was a rotation before. Also, once we get the high school kids through training, they do a lot of the work as long as the calls are close to town.”
Cade nodded from across the table, adding, “Their parents have to sign off. I want to say the volunteers can travel within twenty-five miles. I’ll have to check. My dad would know. He helps out with it too.”
Cade Masters was the superintendent for another crew, and his father was the chief of police in Willow Brook.
“I will definitely sign on to the rotation,” I offered after finishing the last bite of my hamburger.
“I’m in,” Chase offered from my side. He glanced at me, adding, “When they do the training exercises, I’m pretty sure you can bring Ross, right?” He directed his question back to the table in general.
“Think kids have to be ten and up,” Cade replied.
“If Ross wants to do it, I’ll bring him when he’s old enough,” I said.
A short while later, the group gradually dispersed. Chase happened to be walking out with me. I thought it was coincidental until he stopped with me at the back of my SUV.
“What’s up?” I asked as I glanced over at him. A chilly gust of air came off the lake behind Wildlands Lodge. My feet crunched on the packed snow of the parking area as I turned to face him.
“How do you feel about my sister?” His tone was deceptively casual, but I sensed the thread of protectiveness laced within it.
I took a breath as I studied him, contemplating my answer. As I was gathering my thoughts, Chase added, “Hallie mentioned something was going on with you two. I think she knows more than she’s telling me.” His lips twisted to the side.
I steeled myself. “I like Tiffany. A lot. I don’t think it’s my business to talk to you about us, though. In fact, I think she’s going to be rightly pissed off if she finds out you asked me anything.”
Chase’s chuckle was dry. “Probably. She’ll definitely be pissed off at me, but I don’t really care. If she’s pissed off at you, well, I guess you’ll have to deal with it then, won’t you?”
I eyed him for a moment, lightly scuffing my toe across the ground. “Look, I didn’t plan on this.”
“I’m sure she didn’t, either. A part of me is pissed off at you, but obviously, Tiffany’s an adult. She doesn’t date. To my knowledge, she’s never had a serious relationship.”
“Never?” I couldn’t keep the surprise out of my tone.
He shook his head. “Not that I know of.” He was quiet for a moment, appearing to consider his thoughts. His words were measured when he spoke again. “I don’t know how much she’s told you about our mom, but she did a number on us. Our dad is great, and completely solid, but things were tough with our mom. Tiffany had it even worse than I did. When our mom wanted to chase after whatever latest job, she would drag Tiffany with her, and our mom was”—Chase paused, shaking his head slightly—“confusing for a child. She ignored me more than she ignored Tiffany and then was downright harsh toward Tiffany when she was a teenager. Trust doesn’t come easy to my sister. I guess that’s what I’m saying.”
My heart clenched. Maybe I didn’t know all the details, but something about the way Chase described the situation struck me. I also recalled the guarded look that passed through Tiffany’s eyes with more frequency than I wished. I already knew trust didn’t come easy for her.
“Okay,” I finally said, uncertain how else to reply. “I would never hurt her.”
“You wouldn’t mean to, but that doesn’t mean you wouldn’t,” Chase said bluntly.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Tiffany
I twisted my hands together in my lap. I was over at my dad’s, having dinner. Chase was stopping by to pick something up. I’d promised myself I would finally tell my dad and Chase about my surgery.
Because I was me, and whenever I got nervous, I tended to blurt things out, so I decided I was going to tell my dad first. Right this minute.
“Before I moved home last year, I thought I had cancer.”
My dad had just closed the oven and turned around, oven mitt still in hand as he stared at me. “What? Are you okay? Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Dad, it wasn’t cancer. I’m fine.”
He held my gaze for a long moment before carefully setting the oven mitt on the counter and walking over to the table to sit across from me. “What happened?” he asked.
I looked over at my father, the man who had been the mainstay in my life. My throat tightened as I recalled the times I’d wished my mother hadn’t wanted to drag me with her when she chased after the latest something. Nothing ever panned out for her, or at least that was how it felt. She was always chasing something. She craved attention. She wasn’t cut out to be a mother, but she’d focused on me more than Chase. It felt sort of good when we were younger, but it was mostly confusing because I never really felt good when I was with her.
I was an afterthought, something sort of annoying. She never liked being alone, so she brought me with her. When the child she’d dragged along with her was inconvenient, she would plunk me off to the side and ignore me.
My dad put a stop to it when I was about eleven years old. I would learn years later that it was after she had one of her two affairs. She’d left me alone in a hotel room for the night, and the owners had called my dad. To this day, I didn’t think Chase knew that detail. I didn’t even piece it together until I was older.
