Logan rubs at his chest in mock offense before turning his gaze on the man beside me. “Ha ha, very funny, Luke. You’re not leaving. You just got here. I know you practically live at that damn bookstore, but there is a world outside of it, you know?”
His brother.
“Oh my gosh. I should have realized. Hi, Luke. I’m Tessa,” I say, turning to hold out my hand. I know they’re not related by blood, but for some reason, I still had it in my head that I’d recognize Luke when I saw him.
Luke’s grip is firm as we shake hands. “Should’ve guessed.” He chuckles. “Beautiful brunette with a kid.”
My eyes dart to Logan’s as I quirk a brow. “Is that all you’ve told him about me?”
A red tint coats his cheeks as he pulls his hat off his head, runs his hand through his hair, then slips the hat back in place. “I talk about you all the time, darlin’. He’s just trying to get a rise out of me.”
His brother shrugs, clearly unbothered by that statement. “And it worked.” The two of them share a look I don’t understand before Luke adds, “But he’s also mentioned that you’re a reader.”
I keep my voice low as I say, “I’m strictly a romance reader.” I’ve had countless conversations with people about books and reading in general, and so many seem to think romance books shouldn’t count as reading. I haven’t had a chance to visit Blue Ridge Bookery yet, seeing as it’s not the kind of thing I want to do with my son in tow, but I’ve browsed through the store’s website and social media pages. I know Luke keeps a decent supply of romance books, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s a fan.
“Ah,” he drags the word out, head nodding in understanding. My stomach twists uncomfortably, worried I’ve somehow already messed up this interaction and my chance at getting to know Logan’s brother simply because of the kind of books I read. Then he surprises me by taking a step closer, hands folding over his chest. “Want to know a secret?”
I frown. “What?”
“I prefer romance books too.”
A laugh bursts from my chest. “You do?”
Logan steps up beside his brother, grabbing him by the shoulder and giving a playful shake. “The smuttier the better, huh, Luke?”
I watch as color blooms on Luke’s cheeks, and he shoves Logan’s hand from his shoulder.
“Those are the best kind,” I say. “You have no idea what you’re missing out on, babe.” The simple term of endearment slips free unexpectedly, but I don’t miss the way Logan’s eyes heat as they meet mine.
“Can you show me the station now?” Jake asks, stepping up to Logan and tugging on his hand.
“Sure, buddy. Help me take these inside, and then I’ll give you the grand tour.” He hands Jake one of the containers of cookies.
My stomach twists with nerves as we head into the station. I know Logan said this dinner is no big deal, that it’s just something they like to do to boost spirits and keep everyone connected, but it also feels like an initiation of sorts.
A baptism by fire.
The honorary family surrounding first responders is something I didn’t realize I would miss. When I lost Ryan, as much as those around us tried to help and be supportive, I sank deeply into the dark of depression. When I finally began to crawl out on the other side, most had moved on with their lives. Those I was personally closest to are who stayed—Liv, Grayson, Ryan’s partner, Zack, and my parents.
I’ve been looking forward to meeting Logan’s fire family, aside from those I already know, like Grayson and Blair. However, it’s also something that, in the back of my mind, I’ve been dreading. If I were to lose Logan someday, I’d lose them too. And my heart has suffered enough loss for one lifetime.
Chapter thirty-four
Logan
TheexcitementradiatingfromJake as I lead him around the firehouse is contagious. My cheeks ache from the smile that’s been imprinted on my face since they arrived. Tessa and my brother seemed to hit it off right away, which isn’t all that surprising. He owns a bookstore, and she loves to read. How could they not be friends? However, I can’t say watching them bond over a shared love of reading smut was on my bingo card.
“Yousleephere?” Jake's eyes dart around the sleeping quarters. There’s nothing special about the room. It’s bare and just big enough for a couple of twin-size beds. Our station is small; there aren’t typically more than a few of us on duty at once.
“Sure do.” I laugh. “This place is basically our home while we’re working. We have to sleep here in case someone needs us in the middle of the night.”
“Can’t they wait until morning?”
Another laugh bursts from my chest. “It doesn’t work that way, little man. There’s no set time for when an emergency might happen.”
“What’s in the other rooms?” His curiosity about the sleeping arrangements quickly dissipates as he grabs my hand and tugs me downthe hall. His excitement wears off when he realizes the firehouse is much like a regular house, except for our “huge garage”—his words, not mine.
“But you don’t live here all the time, right? You have another house?” he asks as we’re walking back to the main living space to join everyone for dinner.
