The Firefighter's Appeal (Harlequin Superromance) (18 page)

Maybe Katja’s ghost had been nudging her while she slept, pushing her toward Garrett and the information he could provide. Though there could never be a future for them, Lily wouldn’t change the moments she’d shared with him. In many ways, he had changed and enriched her life. And she couldn’t be angry at him, even if she wanted to be anymore.

She sank all the way to the ground and clasped her arms around her bent knees. She wanted to grieve, but she also wanted to let go. So she sat a bit and did both.

* * *

L
ILY
HAD
DRIVEN
around the block three times to avoid going inside the fire station, feeling stupid and hoping Garrett wouldn’t see her as she passed by again and again.

Finally, at the end of the third rotation, she forced herself to park in the lot. Garrett’s paperwork sat in her bag, the reason she’d come. But despite her visit being totally professional, there wasn’t a way to keep her personal feelings out of it. And here she sat, torn between wanting to see Garrett and anxious at the thought of actually doing so. It would have been easier to send one of her employees to deliver his proposal, but that would have been a blatant cop-out, and she’d never been one to leave her work undone.

One big garage door opened, revealing the fire engine sitting behind it. Two men walked around the side of the truck. It only took a second for Lily to recognize Garrett. He had his hand on another man’s shoulder, laughed at something before tousling the shorter man’s hair. Three men got out of a vehicle parked two down from hers, two of them wearing some kind of helmet. Garrett waved to them with a huge smile on his face. The men crossed to Garrett and the entire group took turns giving short man-hugs and pats on the shoulders.

Lily contemplated leaving and coming back another time. Garrett was clearly busy. A few more men came out to stand by the engine. This wasn’t really the place to bring up anything personal. She’d catch him for a minute about the proposal and leave.

She was still hedging when Garrett spotted her, looked straight at her and didn’t hesitate a lick before jogging her way. No turning back now. She’d just opened her door when Garrett was at her side.

“Hi,” he said quietly. “What are you doing here?”

The beautiful lines of his face struck her stupid, almost as if she was seeing him for the first time. In a way, she kind of was. She was seeing the Garrett she knew and cared about instead of the man she’d assumed he was. Bittersweet longing filled her. Yep, she’d made a mistake by coming here herself.

“I called the bar, but they said you were here. I have your proposal. You seem busy, though, so I can come back.”

Garrett glanced back at the crowd by the truck.

“No, no. You’re just in time. Dinner is almost ready.” His smiled and opened her door. “I’m really glad to see you.”

Lily hesitated before getting out. She’d planned on dropping off his papers and leaving. She gave a resolute sigh. When did anything with Garrett turn out the way she’d intended? Especially when he was more of a reminder of her pain than he’d been before?

They crossed the street and she focused on the group of men to keep her composure. It was hard when she wanted to cry and laugh at the same time. Her emotions were a mess and looking for a way to escape. Lily was sure it wouldn’t be pretty when it happened.

She recognized Mikey as they approached. He gave her a crooked grin, his elbow bumping into the man next to him. It only took a flash for her to realize it was Mikey’s brother, Bodie. They looked alike—the same dark chocolate hair, the same rounded chin and narrow, heavily lashed eyes.

“Bodie, this is the lady who sent you the keys. Lily Ashden.”

Mikey spoke quietly and evenly, and after a second, Bodie gave a nod. He reached out a hand but made no move to actually grasp hers when Lily took it.

Undeniable grief welled inside her when she saw the arm braces he wore. The right side of his head was misshapen just above his ear, like a lump of Play-Doh had been poked and molded into an oddly shaped ball. His right eye was nearly closed; his cheekbone and jaw were slightly sunken. He smiled—a smile that lit his entire face and showed the handsome lines of the man underneath the injuries—as he eyed what could be seen of her tattoo beneath the flutter sleeve of her top.

“Wicked ink.” His words were slightly slurred, but she understood. As much as she wanted to come back with something witty, the lump in her throat wouldn’t allow it, so she nodded with a smile instead.

“Oh, here we go. He’s a tattoo freak.” Mikey gave him a light punch on the shoulder. “That doesn’t mean you can whip off your shirt and show her yours. Deal?”

Bodie grinned and leaned away, clearly enjoying the attention. Bodie would have been Mikey’s height, Lily figured, but his back was slightly bent, making him appear smaller. His frame spoke of past strength, but he was now lean, even his hands gaunt.

She recognized the look of his hands—long fingers, big knuckles, the slight appearance of bone beneath tight skin. They were the hands of a man who never stopped tinkering—the hands of a builder, a maker, one who worked his art with a feverish pace. She’d seen hands like that before on some of the painters, carpenters and metalsmiths she’d worked with over the years.

Bodie had beautiful hands.

Lily realized she’d been staring and quickly looked away. The group was talking softly. Garrett put one big hand on her shoulder and pulled her closer.

“Once a month, we have Bodie’s friends by for dinner, and they help us check equipment and whatnot. These boys here are former marine and army, like Bodie. Derek and Rod.” He indicated to the two men wearing the special helmets. “They’re part of the traumatic-brain-injury support group Bodie and Mikey go to.”

Bodie tapped Lily’s arm with the back of his hand. “Hey. I have things for you.”

Just then a booming voice came over an intercom loud enough to resonate outside. “Hey, jackasses, come and eat.”

Bodie made a happy fist pump and hurried off, pulling Mikey behind. The group drifted inside, but Garrett held Lily back.

His eyes were searching when he turned to her, smoothing his palm down her upper arm. She waited for him to speak, but he didn’t, just gave a nod with his head for her to follow him. He crossed the threshold and went inside the garage.

Lily hesitated, her heart pounding. The awkwardness between them was almost painful, but she understood. Things might never be the same, but she hoped they could find peace together, if nothing else, before she left town. He glanced back, then turned and walked to her with concern.

Before she could think of anything to say, Garrett gathered her in his arms and held her tight. There was no fight, no resistance, just a flood of relief that she’d get a chance to say her piece and they’d part on good terms. Lily pressed against his chest, his warmth wrapping her in comfort and memories. The muscles of his chest relaxed as he slowly exhaled.

“You’re not mad at me?”

“You were right,” she said against his uniform shirt. Garrett stroked her hair and made no move to pull back. “There was nothing anyone could do for my sister. She made her choice to go back and she paid the price for that.”

Yes, he was right, but it didn’t make the hurt feel better.

His voice was heavy when he spoke against her hair. “I’m sorry, Lily.”

“Don’t be.” She pulled back enough to look at him. “I needed to hear the truth. I mean, I think I already knew, but I just needed to hear it.”

It had taken a lot for Garrett to give her that truth; it had cost him, too, and she hoped to set his mind at ease. Garrett touched her cheek and leaned in as if he was going to kiss her. Lily tipped her head in response—it was so automatic to want his touch—but he stepped back.

She swallowed her disappointment. It was better this way.

“Hungry?”

No.
“Sure.”

“Yeah? Follow me. We’ll look at those papers when we’re done, all right?”

He took her hand again and held it gently while leading her down a hallway and into a big open room. A long metal table sat in the middle with folding chairs all around. A small commercial-style kitchen was visible on the far end; the other end boasted a wide-screen television and several leather recliners.

Most of the chairs were already taken, but Bodie pointed to a couple of empty ones by him and gave a shout. Garrett made introductions as he and Lily made their way over. She barely heard him over the noisy banter and chatter. A radio blasted country music from somewhere in the room, and the television was on. Despite the activity, the chaos wasn’t overwhelming. The men were so comfortable with each other, and with being in this place, that it was akin to being plopped down in the middle of a loving family.

Lily sat next to Bodie, who immediately started rattling off something she couldn’t understand. She tried to pull conversation out of what he was saying, but Bodie barely took a breath and mumbled more to himself than to her. Luckily, he didn’t seem too concerned that she wasn’t giving any kind of response.

Mikey leaned back in his chair and shook his head. “I swear he never talks this much. He’s got a mumbling problem sometimes. The mouth and brain don’t always connect.” He slapped Bodie on the back. “Bode, maybe you should stop talking Lily’s ear off. You’re going to scare her away.”

Bodie looked at him, silent and expressionless. Then his face lit up, and his words came out crystal clear. “Maybe your girlie hair is going to...to scare her off.”

A roar went up from the table. Mikey crossed his hands over his middle. “That the best you got, little brother?”

“I’m pretty sure hair that long is against the dress code. Anyone got scissors?” someone offered up from down the table.

The sudden volume of conversation made it impossible for Lily to tell who was saying what. The men were laughing and poking fun at each other and she lost herself in the hominess of it. She looked around, realizing for the first time that Garrett was nowhere in sight.

“I’ll be right back,” Bodie said. His head bobbed as if it were too heavy for his neck all of a sudden. The finger he pointed at Mikey was as steady as a beam. “Don’t eat my wings.”

Mikey gave a noncommittal shrug. “Well, then, don’t drag ass and get back here.”

His words died off as Garrett appeared with another man beside him, both carrying big silver trays of wings and fries. The chatter gave way to the clink of plates and forks.

“God, I love wings,” Mikey said as he piled his plate high. He turned a pair of chicken-filled tongs her way. He frowned when she put up a hand. “You don’t eat chicken?”

“No. But I’ll eat the fries,” she replied.

Garrett sat beside her, digging in like the rest of them. She was pulled into conversation with the firemen, whose names she couldn’t remember, soaking up the moment with an ease she’d never thought possible. She thought about what Garrett had said at the Pit, about every man on his squad carrying around emotional baggage caused by their firefighting work.

She’d been selfish to think any of their lives were worth less than her sister’s or anyone else’s. In that perspective, no life was worth more than another, but she realized now that any one of these men would have tempted fate to get her sister out had they had the chance. She’d just taken a drink of water to wash down those thoughts when a small box plopped on top of her plate, sending her food flying.

“Easy, Bodie!” Mikey’s hands went wide as a fry made a double backflip into his glass of root beer.

Bodie blushed. “Sorry.” He nudged Lily with a hand. “Open it, okay?”

Garrett gathered up Lily’s plate, trying to hold back a snicker and failing miserably. Lily slid the box closer and lifted the top. Everyone leaned in, crowding her like a pile of kids at a birthday party. She pulled aside crumpled pieces of newspaper, her heart flipping at what lay beneath.

A string of glittery crystal beads ended with a skeleton key attached to the bottom. Hand-pounded copper and brass disks were fastened to the opening in the top of the key and hung down like eclectic earrings. A bit lower than the circles hung a tiny square picture frame.

“See?” Bodie opened his left hand, showing her a similar ornament. Inside the picture frame was the face of a smiling man in a marine’s uniform.

Garrett rubbed the back of Bodie’s neck. “Is that Zach?”

Bodie didn’t reply right away, and Lily couldn’t tell if it was because of emotion or inability. “Yeah. For his mom.”

“God, Bodie. It’s beautiful.” Garrett’s voice was thick. He turned to Lily and gave her a wan smile. “Zach was killed in the same blast that injured Bodie.”

Bodie blinked rapidly, staring at Lily. “It’s a key to heaven.”

Lily flipped the ornament, fingered the disks with their decorative stamped edges. When she held it by the top of the string, the disks jingled like a chime. She gave a small smile, the best she could manage through the maelstrom of emotion inside. How did Bodie know that she’d have a picture to put inside? And how could she have misjudged this entire department so badly?

Bodie mumbled, but Lily understood him. “Everyone has someone in heaven, right? Thanks for the keys. Hey, where’s my food?” He moved off to his seat. Moment over.

Garrett watched her closely as she put the ornament inside the box. She hadn’t even said thank-you, but Bodie didn’t seem to care. Her mouth formed the words, but sound didn’t quite make it out.

Each second that she was inside this fire station, she forgot her pain a little more. Garrett did more for others than he probably did for himself. Mikey’s dedication to his brother went beyond the duty of a brother and the honor of a fireman. These men—they loved each other in the quiet way that men do, and it spilled over, filling the room, filling her.

Lily fingered the top of the box as she caught Garrett’s eye. He was everything she wanted in a man—was everything she’d convinced herself she’d never have. He’d been off-limits because he was a fireman, but hell, how could she overlook the person he was? It spoke louder than her insistence he could never be right for her. She wanted to hang on instead of let go. Not just for right now, but longer. Tomorrow, the next day, the day after that. She wanted to keep hanging on. She was slipping...falling...so deeply into him, and she didn’t want to hold it back.