I lay there for a long time, letting the ceiling fan brush my skin with cool air as my body gently moved with the even rising and falling of Holt’s chest as he breathed.
I thought about my mother, my home, the fires, Mr. Goddard, and Tony Diesel. I had a lot of decisions to make, a life to put back together.
Funny thing was, even after everything, I didn’t feel like my life had fallen apart.
I felt like it had fallen together.
I never really allowed myself to think outside the box before. From the age of fifteen, I decided what I wanted, set a path, and followed it. I had only one goal in mind. Stability and independence. It’s all I truly wanted… but now that didn’t seem like near enough.
My home was taken from me. My job put on hold. Someone tried to run me over with a car, and I moved in with a stranger.
But through it all, I learned that maybe there was more to life than my job, my home was something that could be replaced (and maybe by something even better), and I wasn’t ready to die because life was finally getting interesting.
I didn’t need to know for sure if Tony Diesel really was my father because it didn’t matter. It wouldn’t change the way I was raised, the memories I had of my mother, and I wasn’t about to let it dictate my future.
I didn’t have everything figured out, and I didn’t know what was going to happen, but that was okay.
Beneath me, Holt stirred, so I leaned up to pepper his face with kisses. He stretched against me and then rolled, wrapping me in his arms and pinning me against the mattress. “I could get used to waking up like this,” he murmured before dipping his head and kissing me.
“What time do you have to be at work?” I asked when he finally pulled away.
“I don’t. I took today off.”
I arched an eyebrow. “You did?”
“With everything going on, I wouldn’t be able to concentrate at work anyway knowing you were here alone.”
“I’m a big girl, Holt.” I didn’t want him thinking I couldn’t take care of myself.
“Actually, you’re kind of tiny.”
I grabbed him by the face. “If you need to go to work, go.”
“The only place I need to go is out for pancakes.”
“Can I come too?” I asked sweetly, batting my eyes.
“I might be persuaded to bring you along,” he said suggestively.
“Hmmmm,” I replied playfully, reaching around and cupping his butt. “Well, I should probably get to work persuading you.”
I did a really good job.
* * *
The waitress delivered me a plate of towering blueberry pancakes dripping in butter. The sweet scent of the fluffy goodness had my stomach rumbling in appreciation. I pushed back my tall glass of orange juice to make way for the food that was about to be introduced to my belly.
I swirled my finger around in a giant pad of softening butter and brought it to my lips as the waitress handed Holt his own stack of pancakes plus a plate loaded with scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast.
When she was gone, I reached for the syrup.
“Are you trying to kill me?” Holt said, leaning over the table and stabbing his fork in my direction.
I glanced dubiously at the fork. “Are you trying to kill me?”
He grinned. “You can’t just go around licking your fingers like that, Freckles. It makes a man forget he’s in a public place.”
I laughed and dug into my pancakes, shoving an unladylike bite into my mouth and then groaning as the sweetness slid over my tongue.
“There you go again,” he said, his eyes darkening with desire.
“Wasn’t last night and this morning enough for you?” I asked playfully.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.”
His words affected me somehow… A sort of longing came over me. What he said implied some kind of long-standing relationship, something that would last. The idea that this could be my life, that my days could be filled with passion and laughter, was so intensely wanted that it caught me off guard.
I watched him eat for a few minutes and as I looked, I realized I didn’t really know much about him other than the fact he was divorced. “So how’s a guy become the fire chef at the age of twenty-four? That’s kind of young, isn’t it?”
“It just kind of happened.”
“I’m gonna need more than that,” I said, feeling brave and stealing a piece of bacon off his plate. I saw the hostess leading a woman across the room and seating her in a booth near our table. The woman had long very blond hair and lips so full I thought surely they must have been treated with Botox. I watched as she slid into the booth, took the offered menu, and ordered a coffee. There was something about her… something that seemed vaguely familiar. When the hostess disappeared, she looked up, catching me staring. I averted my gaze immediately and returned my attention to Holt.
He set his fork down and looked up. “Fire control was something that always seemed to interest me,” he explained while I chomped down on the bacon. “So when I was sixteen, my dad suggested I volunteer with the local fire department. So I did and I really liked it. The guys there were really cool and it was something I felt made a difference in people’s lives.”
“Sounds like you had a great dad.”
He nodded. “Yeah, both my parents are really great.”
“They’re still married?”
“Yep, they live across town. They’re going love you.”
“Me?” I choked, reaching for my juice. “Why would they want to meet me?”
“They’re going to want to know the reason their son is so happy.”
I abandoned my food and fought the urge to cry. I didn’t want to hope… I didn’t want to think there might be a family—a family full of people like Holt—that would embrace me and make me one of their own. I spent too much time hoping for that with every single foster home I went to. In the end, it all turned out exactly the same way: bad.
His hand came across the table and covered mine. “Hey, what did I say?”
I shook my head. “Nothing, I just…”
“What?” he prompted when I didn’t speak.
“I’ve just gotten really used to being alone.”
He squeezed my fingers. “You’re not alone anymore, Katie. You’re never going to be alone again.”
He pulled his hand away and went back to eating, like his words didn’t just alter the entire universe.