Jonah's Return (Detroit Heat Book 3) (6 page)

Jonah and I had our plans.
 
His transfer went through, and Monday morning he’d start working at headquarters.
 
He and I would be back in the same building doing far different jobs, though.
 
Seven in the morning on Saturday, Jonah left Engine 37 for the last time.
 
I was out for a jog, and I saw the digital clock slowly rotating over a bank.
 
7:01. I was in the midst of my runner’s high, but even still, a shiver ran through my body as I worked mile number five.

Trying to not let it all get to me, I went about my Saturday like it was ordinary.
 
Jogging first thing in the morning, grocery shopping around lunchtime.
 
The afternoon was usually reserved for cleaning my place.
 
The Saturday of my date with Jonah, I found myself in my favorite place to think through life’s problems: the bathtub.

I’d been in the tub so long that I had to replace some of the luke-warm water with fresh hot.
 
I leaned back and closed my eyes.
 
My thoughts weren’t on Jonah in that moment.
 
Instead, they were on Engine 37; they were on the calls I had gone on before my transfer.

Adrenaline pumped through my veins like I back on the engine, my hand out the window, taking in the wind as we rushed through Detroit.
 
I remembered the heat of my first fire, and an older captain pointing out that part of my gear had melted.
 
I could see that he was impressed with me for dealing with it.
 
I remembered doing CPR on an eleven year-old boy and pulling him from death’s grasp.
 
I remembered how much I hated leaving.

Two years isn’t enough time to use the
he was younger a dumber then
excuse, but I was going to do it anyway.
 
Peer pressure, the stress of the job, and maybe falling a bit too hard for me all wrapped Jonah up in a paranoid little package.
 
I could understand it up to a point, but only to a point.
 

If he had talked to me, asked how
I
felt about it all, we might have survived Engine 37 together.
 
I still would have left eventually, but I would have left with an understanding partner by my side.
 
Instead, Jonah left me to start a new career by myself, brokenhearted and shattered.

Two years had made quite a difference in my life.
 
Back then, I lived for the job when I was on Engine 37.
 
It was my reason for going to bed, waking up, and working out.
 
I worked myself half to death to keep up with the larger guys, even though I knew I’d never be a strong.
 

What I lacked in strength, I made up for in speed and size. They may have joked at my expense at the station, but when they needed someone to squeeze into a partially collapsed building, all of a sudden the jokes stopped.
 
I’d make the rescue, but I never seemed to earn the respect of some.

Some like Havens, a world-class pain in the ass.
 
Havens had made it his mission to make my life hell ever since day one at Engine 37.
 
Less than an hour into my first shift, he made a pass at me in the weight room.
 
It was really more of an unannounced, volunteer breast exam.
 
The twenty-pound weight to the groin put an end to his makeshift exam, and it had him dragging his nuts around for the rest of the twenty-four hour shift.

From that day on, Havens did anything and everything to destroy me.
 
He was sexist, he attacked everything about my personality, and he tried to frame me for whatever he could.
 
Sometimes he was called out on it by the others on my shift, but what is it they say about the silent majority?
 
Oh yeah, fuck them.
 
The loudest voices are often the most extreme.
 
Havens was beyond extreme.

Jonah did the best he could to keep Havens away from me, but it was a small station, and twenty-four hours is a long time.

I shook the bad memories away.
 
I didn’t want to waste my bath on people like Havens.
 
Jonah was the one I wanted to waste time on.
 
He was still goofy and slow with his words, but when he did say something, he meant it.
 
What he had told me in my office shook me.
 
He shared his feelings more with me then than when we were dating.
 
I didn’t fault him for it.

It was actually one of the things that convinced me to give him another shot.
 
The chemistry between us was undeniable.
 
The second that he walked in, the air sparked between us.
 
In an instant, I missed his body, his touch, his
hands.
 
Was it really going to happen?

I sank lower into the bath until I was completely submerged.
 
The water felt incredible over my skin.
 
Thinking of the good times with Jonah made me wish I had taken a cold shower instead.
 
I had to keep my expectations low, and most importantly, I was going to move
slowly.
 
Echoing Kate’s overprotective outburst, I did agree that sex shouldn’t be what we were after.

Sex should be something that comes only after Jonah and I are both sure, and we both trust each other again.
 
Stop thinking about sex, Abbey.
 
Yes, definitely the cold shower.

A blast of cold before I got out didn’t help much, and by the time I was dressed and ready for dinner, sex was about the only thing on my mind.
 
I couldn’t promise myself that all the memories of him and me sneaking off to fuck somewhere in the station wouldn’t get the better of me.

When I opened the door, though, all thoughts of sex vanished in an instant.

Jonah’s left eye was black and blue, and a gash across the bridge of his nose caused his entire face to swell.
 
Based on the dried blood, it had happened hours before.

“What the hell happened to you?”
 
I grabbed him by the shirtsleeve and pulled him inside.

I shook my head and gave Jonah my best disapproving-mother look, “You’re really not going to tell me what happened?”

I dabbed Jonah’s wound with peroxide and he winced out of instinct, pulling away.
 
“Nothing happened, so there’s really nothing to tell.”

Our reservations could wait.
 
There was something Jonah wasn’t telling me, and I’d get it out of him one way or another.
 

"Who was it?" I knew the answer, but it was important for Jonah to say the name. I could make an educated guess about the circumstances, too.

I put the bottle of hydrogen peroxide back into the medicine cabinet. While I was in there, I grabbed the ibuprofen. I'm sure he had one hell of a headache. I could feel the makings of one, myself.

Jonah waved a hand, "It doesn't matter. It really doesn't matter. Look, I’d like to forget the whole thing, and—“

"It's hard to forget when it's staring me in the face, Jonah. Was it just Havens, or were there more?" The thought of Havens or any of the other fire fighters laying a hand on Jonah had me shaking. Adrenaline had my senses working overtime.

Jonah knew me. He knew I wouldn't give up. "Just him. It's not about you, though. Nobody knew today was my last shift. I asked Clay to keep it that way. I was in the locker room cleaning mine out when he came in. He thought it was because of him, the prick. Called me a pussy, told me to handle my problems like a man, blah blah blah. Don't worry, your name didn't come up."

That had been my initial fear.
 
I was afraid that Havens would find out what was going on, he'd start talking shit, and Jonah would get pushed over the edge. I supposed this was a better scenario, but not by much.

My EMT certification had expired four months ago, but the training would never go away. I gave Jonah the standard rundown, "The good news is your nose isn't broken." I put a finger and thumb on either side of the bridge below the cut and wiggled.

"Ow, God dammit. Could’ve fooled me." Jonah brought a hand up quickly and slapped mine away.

"Baby. Anyway, there's more good news."

Jonah pulled away for me, leaning back on the toilet. "Christ, if that's your good news, I don't hear the bad."

I had to laugh. I loved messing with him, and he knew it. If Jonah wanted another shot with me, he was going to have to get used to that. "The other good news, if I can continue," it was like I was talking to a child, "is that besides some swelling, your eye will be just fine."

"And the bad news?"

"The laceration on your nose won't stay closed. It's not going to heal without a stitch or two." So much for the perfect evening. I gave Jonah my cutest look, "How long do you think they'll hold our reservation?"

Storybook. That's exactly how I described my relationship with Abbey the first time. Two fire fighters and an inferno between them. I knew it the moment I saw her. She told me the same. It wasn't long before the two of us were fucking like rabbits any time, any place. It wasn't just that, though. It was sweet; it was romantic. It was nothing like the second time around.

I pulled off the Band-Aid Abbey had put on at her house. I let out a sigh; it was soaked through with red. We'd been at the emergency room for a half hour, and I just knew it would be another half hour before they saw me.

Abbey had denied my request to stitch it herself, instead opting for the less insane route. On the way to the hospital, I had convinced Iridescence to hold our reservation for another hour. It had taken all of my charm, plus dropping the fact that we were both Detroit fire fighters. It didn't hold the weight that it used to, but it still helped every now and then.

Looking up, I saw Abbey heading back into the waiting room carrying two small cups. I gave Abbey my best
I'm sorry
smile. A smile I thought I should get good and used to using.

She looked down at my nose and gave me a worried look back. Handing me the coffee, she said, "I'll pay for the before; dinner cocktails, don't worry. Yours is a virgin, on account of alcohol thinning the blood."

I smiled, shook my head, and took the coffee cup from her. Like any good fire fighter, Abbey could handle herself under pressure, and like any
great
firefighter, she would laugh her way through it. "Thanks."

She plopped down into the rigid and uncomfortable chair beside me. "This is actually better than our first date." Her voice was casual, like it was any other statement.

My mind drew a blank.
 
I looked up at the ceiling and squinted, regretting it as soon as the pain hit me. "Don't hit me, but what
was
our first date?"

"There's people around, Jonah. I'm not going to hit you in public. Our first date, if you can call it that, was lunch behind the station. I think it was about two weeks after I started working, and a week
after
we started having sex."

The memory jumped back into my mind. "That's right. I attempted to cook for you. I made marinated chicken something or other, or I tried to. I didn't realize you had to marinate something overnight for it to count as marinated."

It had been my first real attempt to impress a woman, and luckily Abbey was easily impressed.

"It tasted fine." Her words lied, but she was smiling. It was a Christmas morning smile; only good things.
 

For a few minutes the two of us sat back staring off into the past. It was hard for me to comprehend that two years had gone by. Her hair was different, a little longer than when she was on Engine 37. Despite the stress of her job, the gray was being kept at bay. Abbey's body was as fit as ever, or at least what I could see was.

The dress that she wore stopped just above the knees, showing off her shapely and sexy calves. "Still running marathons?" I hoped my question didn't give away where my eyes lingered.