Chris stared at the doorway, his heart sinking as Cally’s parents came into the kitchen. He got to his feet, his stomach churning, his throat suddenly dry. Mrs. Drake froze when she caught sight of him, her mouth falling open. Mr. Drake was behind her.

  “Shelley, what’s the holdup? Why have you—?” His eyes widened. “Dear Lord.”

  Chris tried to find some spit, and swallowed hard. “Mr. and Mrs. Drake. Hi there.” He aimed a hard stare at Cally, then pulled out a chair for her mom. These were people he’d known his whole life, and he felt awkward as hell.

  Cally was in for it when they left.

  For the first time, it dawned on Chris that there was yet another reason why he hadn’t married her. She’d have driven me crazy.

  Mrs. Drake placed her purse on the back of the chair. “Chris. I had no idea you’d be here.” She made no move to sit down, however.

  Chris coughed. “I think that was the general idea. Wasn’t it, Cally?” He extended a hand to Cally’s dad, his heartbeat racing.

  Mr. Drake stared at it for a second before finally shaking it. “You’re looking well. And I understand we have you to thank for getting Cally to the hospital.”

  Cally grinned. “That’s Chris. My white knight.” She gestured to the table. “Sit down, and I’ll pour us all some coffee.”

  Now Chris got the need for the best china.

  He waited until they were seated before joining them. He knew he had to say something, but he had no idea how to break the ice.

  Lucy solved that problem. She went over to Mrs. Drake and sat in front of her, gazing at her. Mrs. Drake let out a soft aww, and she stroked Lucy’s head. “Is this your dog, Chris? She’s adorable.”

  “And she knows it.” Not that Chris meant a word of it. Lucy was doing what she did best.

  “I always did like golden retrievers,” Mr. Drake murmured, stretching out his hand toward her, his fingertips brushing her silky ears.

  Chris wasn’t going to get another chance like this.

  “Can I say how sorry I am for what happened? I never planned to... to run out on Cally the way I did. And I know all the trouble you went to, preparing for the wedding.” He fell silent, anxiously awaiting their reaction.

  Mr. Drake cleared his throat. “I’ll be honest. If you’d showed up a few days later, I’d have whupped your ass till you couldn’t sit down for a month. As it is...” His gaze flickered to Cally. “I’ve been made to look at the whole situation from a different perspective.”

  Thank God for Cally.

  “Is it true you’re back here for good?” Mrs. Drake inquired. “I heard something about you working with dogs.” She went back to stroking Lucy.

  Chris glanced at Cally. “The Saugatuck grapevine strikes again,” he muttered. He gave Mrs. Drake his full attention. “That’s correct. I’m setting up a dog training business, based here in Saugatuck, but I’m hoping to spread out.”

  Mr. Drake peered at Cally. “Suppose you tell us why we’re here. Was it only to have this... reunion? Or is there something else going on in that devious mind of yours?”

  “Frank!” Mrs. Drake gaped at him, but he merely chuckled.

  “Oh, come on. We both know she can be devious.”

  Cally filled the cups, then passed them around. “Actually, you’re right. I brought you all here for a reason. Not the least being that you needed to see Chris to show him you don’t hate him.”

  Mrs. Drake bit her lip. “Hate him? Chris is like one of the family. Has been since he was a little boy.”

  Cally nodded. “And we’re here to decide what we’re going to do about another member of this family. Hunter.” She glanced at Chris. “I invited Chris because he’s an ally. He thinks the same as you, Mom.”

  Mrs. Drake jerked her head toward Chris. “You think he’s in trouble too?”

  Chris took a steadying breath. “I think he needs help. But it’s not going to be easy, because right now, he doesn’t accept that.” He wasn’t about to reveal everything—they didn’t need to know that—but he wanted them to see they all had Hunter’s best interests at heart.

  “What kind of help are we talking about?” Mrs. Drake asked, her brow knitted.

  “Well, I know he was seeing a therapist, if only for a short while. We need to encourage him to go back to her.” Chris felt this was an important step. “Then we need to get him thinking about work again. He must be almost through with the physio by now.” The last full day Chris had spent in the house, Hunter hadn’t worn the sling at all. “And finally, we need to get him out of the house and mixing with people again. People who care for him and support him.”

  And love him.

  “You haven’t changed,” Mrs. Drake said softly. “You’re still a good person with a good heart.”

  After everything he’d put them through, her kind words were almost more than Chris could stand.

  “You always did love him like a brother,” Mr. Drake commented. “I’m glad to see that hasn’t changed either.” He straightened in his chair. “What can we do? Especially if he’s resisting all forms of help.”

  “We don’t let him hide away from the world,” Cally declared. “We let him know we love him, and we’re not giving up on him.” Her jaw was firm.

  Chris smiled. For the first time since he’d gotten home, it felt like there was hope. And that was down to good people who wouldn’t let Hunter go under without a fight.

  Let’s see how long he can resist them.

  A snuffling sound came from the bassinet, and Mrs. Drake was over there in a heartbeat, reaching into it to scoop up her grandchild, cooing and making nonsensical sounds. What surprised him was that Mr. Drake joined her, bending over to kiss Judy’s head.

  Cally caught Chris’s eye and shook her head. They’ll be like this for hours, she mouthed. Her eyes sparkled.

  Chris couldn’t think of a better way to pass the time.

  Well... maybe one more way.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Hunter got behind the wheel, his stomach churning.

  So that’s it. He’d finally been given the all-clear by the physio, which meant only one thing.

  Time to go back to work.

  That realization should have made him happy. He loved his job, for Christ’s sake. He had a great set of co-workers, he got on well with the fire chief, and he was doing something to help others.

  So why did the thought of climbing onto the fire truck send rivers of ice flowing through his veins?

  Fuck, this is so messed up.

  He drove home in a daze, along the Blue Star Highway, past the fire station which he did his best not to look at it. On an impulse, he drove through the town along Water Street, past the B&B owned by Chris’s parents.

  Impulse my ass. You wanted to see him. Even a glimpse of him.

  It had been four weeks since Chris’s return. Four weeks and... nothing.

  Why the hell would he visit? I didn’t exactly make him welcome the last time. No wonder he’s keeping his distance. Maybe Chris was doing what Hunter could not—getting on with his life.

  The thought sent a lance straight through him. His heart pounding, Hunter took a right, then another, heading for home.

  Sanctuary.

  He got inside the house and locked the door, then went through to the kitchen in search of a glass of water. His hand shook as he filled it.

  Get a grip. This isn’t you.

  Except that lately, it was him, more and more. His days consisted of intermittent naps because he wasn’t sleeping at night. He tried to avoid the news on TV because the slightest thing tended to send him into an irrational rage. Daytime felt... darker somehow, as if the sun couldn’t break through the trees that stood beside his house.

  And the nightmares still kept coming.

  Hunter knew he couldn’t be far off breaking point. And each time that thought occurred to him, he yearned to reach out to someone. Anyone.

  Who was he kidding? Only one person fit the bill.

  Chris.

  He got out his phone, scrolling through the Internet but not really paying much attention. Nothing seemed to hold his attention lately. When he saw the notification for new emails, he opened it, surprised to see Cally’s name there. The email was short, containing nothing but a link. He clicked on it, and stilled as Chris’s face came into view. It was a photo of him with Lucy.

  What the fuck is this?

  It was a Facebook page, advertising a dog training business—Chris’s business. As Hunter scrolled down, he saw posts from happy clients, some of whose names he recognized. There were photos too: Chris working with different dogs, photos of happy-looking pups, and a pic of Chris standing by the river, Lucy sitting beside him.

  He really is doing this.

  Then another email pinged in. This one was from his dad. Hunter opened it, and found a link to a page listing professional dog trainers. Frowning, he peered at the list, until he realized Chris was on it.

  Hunter spent the next ten minutes Googling Chris, and found a host of links. It seemed he was advertising his services over a wide area, not just around Saugatuck.

  Then it struck him. My dad is sending me stuff on Chris?

  A text from his mom popped up. Hunter opened it. Texts he could deal with—it was her calls he was avoiding.

  Your dad and I have decided to get a dog from the Humane Society. Chris is coming with us to help us pick one out. I think it’s great what he’s accomplished so far.

  Hunter stared at his phone. What is this—an organized campaign to make Chris look good? Have they formed the Chris Lomax Appreciation Society while I wasn’t looking? He knew what Cally was doing. She’d been sticking up for Chris for a long while. But their parents? This was a new one.

  How long are they gonna keep this up? And why are they doing it? Does Chris even know about this?

  There was one way to find out.

  Hunter’s thumbs were a blur as he typed the text.

  You got five minutes in your schedule to come by the house? I need to talk to you. Disconcertingly, his hand shook as he clicked on Send.

  Chris’s response was swift. I can be there in an hour. That okay? With a client right now.

  Hunter sent a thumbs up, then tossed the phone onto the couch. An hour gave him plenty of time to work out what he wanted to say. His stomach quivered. Why are they sticking up for him? What has he told them about me? Do they know why Chris left? Then he gave himself a hard mental shove. Chris wouldn’t out me. He just wouldn’t. Except the unease didn’t dissipate.

  The Chris he’d known five years ago would never have done that.

  Now? Hunter wasn’t so sure.

  Hunter opened the front door. Chris stood there in jeans and a white shirt, Lucy at his side as always. “I see you brought Lucy for moral support.”

  Chris gave a half smile. “You know Lucy. Anything to lend a paw.” He cocked his head to one side. “So... are we gonna talk on your doorstep, or do I get to come inside?”

  Hunter moved aside to let him enter, Lucy following. “Can I put some water out for her?”

  “That would be great, thank you.” Chris stood in the middle of the living room, his hands by his sides, giving the room sidelong glances.

  “For God’s sake, sit down. You look about as awkward as a pig in a parlor.”

  Chris arched his eyebrows, but said nothing. He sat on the couch, and Hunter left him to find a bowl for Lucy.

  “It looks like business is really taking off,” Hunter called out from the kitchen. “Seems like every day, someone is sending me stuff about you.” He felt as awkward as Chris looked, but he had to say something to get the ball rolling.

  “Really?” To Hunter’s ears, Chris’s surprise felt genuine. “Why would they do that? You don’t have a dog.”

  Hunter placed the bowl on the tiled floor, and Lucy trotted over to have a drink. He bent down to scritch behind her ears. “Hey, beautiful,” he said softly. Then he straightened and went into the living room. “I had thought you’d put them up to it.”

  Chris blinked. “Why the hell would I do that?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Hunter replied with more nonchalance than he felt. “Maybe that was your idea of proving to me that you really are here to stay.”

  Chris held up his hands. “Hey, if people want to send you stuff, that’s their choice. I’m too busy getting on with my life to be entangling myself in subterfuge.”

  Hunter stiffened. “And what was that? Some passive-aggressive dig at me for not getting on with my life?” His face heated. “Maybe inviting you here was a mistake.”

  Chris paled. “Hunter.... Are you all right?”

  “Me? I’m just dandy. Ain’t nothing wrong with me.” Fuck, he couldn’t stop the words from pouring out in an acid stream. Hunter was growing weary of feeling angry most of the time. It was exhausting.

  Hunter’s phone rang on the seat cushion beside Chris. Chris handed it to him, and Hunter gave the screen a cursory glance. Cold rippled through him.

  It was David, the fire chief.

  “Excuse me, but I gotta take this,” he murmured before stepping through the arch into the kitchen. He connected the call. “Hey, David. How are you?” Sweat popped out on his brow.

  “All the better for getting the good news.” David sounded gleeful.

  “Good news?”

  “Yeah. Your physio just called me to say you’re cleared. That’s great.”

  Something wasn’t connecting in Hunter’s brain. “Why would my physio call you?”

  “Because the fire service pays for him. You were injured on the job, so we get reports on how you’re progressing. I gotta say, I was never more pleased. We need you, buddy, especially in fire season. So, you ready to come back to work?”

  Hell no, he wasn’t ready. His heartbeat sped up, and his palms were clammy.

  “Sorry, David, but I’ve got someone at my door. I’ll call you back, okay?” And before David could respond, Hunter disconnected the call, his fingers trembling.

  I can’t do this. I just can’t. He paced up and down the kitchen, running his fingers through his hair, his heart rate climbing.

  “Everything okay in there?” Chris called out.

  No, everything is not okay. It’s about as far from okay as it’s possible to be! He tried to draw air into his lungs, to calm himself, but it just wasn’t happening. Something inside him burst.

  “I can’t do this!” he yelled, his phone slipping from his hands and clattering to the floor. “What the fuck is wrong with me?”

  Chris was there in a heartbeat, his eyes wide. “Hunter?” Lucy was at Hunter’s feet, whimpering.

  “Why the fuck don’t I want to go back to work? I fucking love my job. This makes no sense.” Tears pricked the corners of his eyes, and he wiped them away. “Look at me. I’m a mess. I’m falling apart here over a fucking phone call.” But the tears wouldn’t stop.

  Chris wrapped his arms around Hunter. “You fall apart if you need to,” he whispered. “I’ve got you, okay? I’ve got you.”

  Hunter struggled to free himself, but Chris held on. “Let go of me,” he ground out. Except Chris’s arms felt so goddamn good. Hunter sank to his knees on the kitchen floor, and Chris went with him, holding him tightly as though he was afraid Hunter was about to shatter into a million pieces. Lucy was in his lap, her weight against his chest.

  “What’s wrong with me, Chris?” Hunter asked between sobs. He leaned into Chris, his head on Chris’s shoulder, Chris’s arm around him as they sat in the middle of the kitchen floor. Lucy hadn’t budged, and he stroked her with a gentle hand. “There are days when I don’t even wanna get out of bed. The doorbell rings and I ignore it, because I don’t wanna move from under my comforter.” He shivered. “Days when everything seems so... black.”

  “Whether you want to admit it or not, you have a problem,” Chris murmured.

  Hunter couldn’t deny it anymore. His present state was all the evidence he needed that something was badly wrong. “So... what do I do?”

  “You do something before it gets worse, that’s what.” Chris kissed his head, and the simple gesture sent fresh tears trickling over Hunter’s cheeks. “There are so many people who love and support you, and we’ve all been trying to get you to see what we’re seeing.” Lucy let out a small woof, and Chris smiled. “Even Lucy.”

  Hunter raised his chin to look Chris in the eye. “And what’s that?”

  Chris’s lips twitched. “A man with his head up his ass.”

  Hunter chuckled. “Bastard.” Then a fresh bout of weeping overtook him, and he shivered. “I fucking hate this. I want my life back.” Lucy was warm against him, and he cuddled her close.

  Chris wiped away Hunter’s tears with his hand. “And you’ll get it back, I promise. We’ve all been hoping you’d come to this conclusion, and yeah, I know I’ve pushed you, but you were the only one who could make that choice.”

  Hunter swallowed, some small degree of calm returning to him. “So what’s the first step?” His voice quavered.

  Chris locked gazes with him, but Hunter didn’t look away. “You go back to your therapist. And this time you tell her everything, okay?”

  He nodded. “I can do that. Only...” He hesitated. He had no right to ask anything of Chris, not after the way Hunter had treated him.

  “What is it?” Chris’s voice was low.

  “If I’m gonna do this... I don’t want to do it alone.” Hunter gazed at him, his heart quaking.

  Chris’s eyes were warm. “You won’t be.” And before Hunter could utter another word, Chris leaned in and kissed Hunter on the lips, a gentle, tender kiss that was nothing like the kiss Hunter had forced on him all those weeks ago.

  It was like balm to his soul.

  Hunter cupped Chris’s head and returned the kiss, keeping it light, but with so much emotion bound up in it that it sent a surge of joy through his body.

  Then a warm tongue licked his cheek, and Hunter gave a start. Lucy’s tail was wagging, and her paws were on his chest.

  Chris laughed. “I think Lucy wants to kiss you too.” Lucy gave a soft bark.

  Hunter stroked her head. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Lucy, but I prefer your daddy’s kisses.” And if kissing Chris made him feel this... light, Hunter wanted more.

 

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