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“How’s the station?” He smacks my upper arm before stepping back. “Still out saving lives and fighting fires?”
“Yes, Sir.” My smile becomes more genuine. Nolan is an older version of the guys–warm blue eyes, strong cheekbones, and broad shoulders. Although he’s softened out over the years, he still has some of the mass he had when playing sports. “I’ve not been called to save much lately outside of a stray kitten and rounding up Gertrude and her ducklings before they get smashed into the pavement, but it’s all in an honest day’s work.”
“Yes, it is,” he sighs and shakes his head. “Every time I see you, it shocks me that you’re an adult, living out on your own. Where did the time go?”
“I don’t know. But times have changed.” I guess I’m not the only one struggling with the changes.
“Are you seeing anyone?”
“No. Not right now.” Harbor’s face flashes before my eyes, and I dodge his gaze, blocking out the intrusive thoughts. There’s something creepy about wishing I was with Harbor while talking to her dad.
“That’s too bad. None of the boys are, either. It’s getting annoying. How’re we supposed to have grandchildren when none of our kids will settle down and reproduce?”
“I’m not sure.” Heat covers my cheeks as the intrusive thoughts barge back in–only this time, they’re less rated R and headed straight to the adult section.
I’ve been successful for years at keeping my feelings for Harbor at bay. But it’s become harder in the last few months. So hard that I avoided seeing her when she came back for her graduation party. I wanted to see her, but what was the point?
If she were somehow interested, Connor’s warning rings loud and clear. He’d interfere, and if we started seeing each other without him knowing, the second the truth was out, I’d lose my best friend since kindergarten.
“Ah….” He chuckles and pats my shoulder. “Listen to me. I shouldn’t be complaining to you about my sons’ shortcomings. Unless you want to encourage them to stop the never-ending cycle of random hook up's and meet some nice girl from next door?”
I clear my throat and walk to the door. “I think I’ll stay out of it.”
“Good answer, Cole,” Connor says from the hallway. “Dad, you need to mind your own business.”
“Son, don’t forget, you are my business.” He wanders off in the other direction. “See you around, Cole.”
“Yeah.” I swallow over the dryness in my mouth. Will there be a next time? Maybe in a couple of weeks, I won’t switch with Vargas or one of the other guys, so I can make the next party.
“I thought you were out of here?” He arches an eyebrow.
“I am. Your dad stopped me on the way out.” I twist the doorknob, and open the door, finding my sister, Emilia, parked across the street in my Jeep. The kids are tucked into their car seats in the back as she talks on her cell phone.
Her hand waves around as she explains something to whoever’s on the other side of the line. If I had to guess, it’s her loser of an ex who dumped her when she got pregnant with Thatcher, skipped town with his assistant, and headed to New York City to live. He’s the biggest douchebag I’ve ever had the pleasure of punching in the face. And I’d do it again.
“I’ll see you around. Are you off tonight?”
“Yes, but I’m watching the kids so Em can go to work.” When Emilia sees me, she waves. My sister has been through a lot, but she’s the most upbeat person I know. Her hand drops when she notices Connor standing behind me.
“Is that your sister?” He glances over my shoulder as Emilia returns her attention to the phone. She may be upbeat, but she’s never been a fan of Connor. He’s too laidback with no sense of direction. Those are her words, not mine.
“Yes, she dropped me off.”
“I see. Well, I’ll see you around.” His face is tight as he steps back inside. “I’d offer to stop by tonight, but I wouldn’t want Emilia to throw a fit over me rubbing off on the kids.”
“Good idea. I don’t want to hear her talk trash about you.” I laugh awkwardly and jog down the steps. Did we remain friends all these years to spite our sisters? A part of me has wondered about that more than once. But Connor is a great friend. He’d drop everything to help me if I was in a jam.
The second I slide into the passenger side of my Jeep the kids chatter nonstop. ‘What you doing?’ ‘You miss us?’ ‘Love you, Unc Co.’ ‘Where you been?’ ‘What you doing there?’ The cycle of questions only intensifies when I make the mistake of saying I’d been to a birthday party.
Sofia swings her feet, hitting the backs of her sneakers off the seat. “Did they have clowns?”
“Cake? Yum.” Thatcher swipes his arm over his lips as his eyes dance. He’s two years younger than his older sister.
“Way to go?” Emilia glares and moves the shifter into drive.
“Sorry,” I sag into the leather cushions and exhale. It feels good to let my guard down and relax. “I wasn’t thinking.”
“You’re never thinking when you’re around Connor.” She flips on the blinker, checks her mirrors, and eases onto the street.
