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“Cool! Firetrucks are here! Look, Uncle Scott! Look!” Logan cheers from the window seat, his eyes lit up with excitement.
I hang my head, defeated.
Bridget wiggles in my arms, wanting down. I let her slip gently down my body and she staggers to the window to see what her brother is pointing to.
Month one back in my hometown with Bridget and Logan and already I was drawing attention to myself. Something I did not want.
Coming back here had been my only option after Sara and Todd died. Not only was I dealing with my own grief over losing my sister and brother-in-law, but I was also dealing with the confused grief of a seven- and two-year-old. The kids had meant the world to Sara and Todd; they had been their shining stars, the greatest loves of their lives, and in order to do my best by Sara, I knew coming back home was the only choice I had.
Here, I had a family to help me navigate this new territory of being a single-dad-slash-uncle. I clearly had no idea what I was doing, but I was trying my best. I loved Logan and Bridget with everything in me and only wanted what was best for them.
Even if it meant leaving behind my military career.
The stomping of boots snaps me out of my thoughts. Moving toward Logan and Bridget, I position myself in front of them, unsure of what’s happening in the building. I wasn’t a hundred percent sure emergency services were called here because of me. It was a high possibility but still…
I hear the crew before I see them. The heavy slaps of boots start pounding down the hallway, growing louder the closer they come to our open apartment door. Bridget tucks herself against my leg, not liking the noise. Placing a hand on her upper back, I give her a reassuring rub before picking her up again.
“Anyone in here?” a deep voice calls out seconds before a suited firefighter enters my line of vision.
“Yes. Here,” I say, just as he spots me and motions to someone else over his shoulder. Two other firefighters enter my apartment and hustle to the kitchen. There’s only a light haze of smoke now thanks to the open windows and door so I can see everything clearly.
I hear multiple “clears” called out as my apartment is searched. Logan’s little hand is clutching my pant leg as he watches the firefighters in action. Bridget has fallen asleep, her head resting in the crook of my neck.
There’s more noise outside in the hallway, but I’m focused on the people in my space. I know I was the one to set off the alarms and I need to apologize for the inconvenience. I give all of the suited firefighters a weary grin as they make their way into the main room, taking off their helmets in the process.
My apology is on the tip of my tongue, my hand extended in thanks, when I do a double take at one of the firefighters. I lose my breath.
Elyssa Laidlaw. She’s here. Standing in my apartment.
My best friend’s little sister and the one girl who was off-limits in my teenage years. That didn’t stop me from having a huge crush on her though.
“I—umm,” I start, trying to tear my eyes off her and address the other people in the room, but I fail. My mouth opens but I keep making the same nonsensical sounds.
“Sir, are you aware that your floor fire alarm was activated by you opening the front door and letting smoke out into the hall?” the man with the deep voice asks me.
Placing a comforting hand on Bridget’s back, I nod. “Yes. Well, er, no. Sorry. I panicked when all my alarms started going off in the apartment and opened everything so the kids wouldn’t be affected.” With a quick raise of my eyebrows I realize the irony of what I just said. “But I guess that didn’t really work out.”
The man’s eyes dart down to Logan—who has been surprisingly quiet—and he nods with a small grin.
“I understand. But in the future, if your fire alarm goes off for a baking-related reason, please keep the front door closed. Apartment alarms don’t trigger a call to us but a common area alarm, like the hallway, will. Best to open all the windows and wait if you’ve burned something on the stove.”
“Right. Will do. Won’t make that mistake again.”
“Good.” The man looks to his team members, gesturing to leave with a tilt of his head. I dart my eyes back to Elyssa, wanting one more look at the beautiful woman she’s become. If it’s possible, her warm hazel eyes hold more mischief in them than they did at sixteen—the last age I’d seen her at before I enlisted.
She’s staring at me too, an almost quizzical look on her face as she scans me from top to toes and back again.
“Scott,” she breathes out my name, a bit of surprise and hesitancy in her tone.
“Elyssa. It’s good to see you.”
“Oh wow. Scott! You’re back! You’re home!”
“I am.” I smile back at her. Not a full smile, my ongoing grief turning in my stomach, but enough of one that she doesn’t catch the hint of sadness in my voice.
“Does Davis know? I seriously can’t believe you’re here. Last I heard you were some big shot pilot in the air force.”
The rumble of my chuckle has Bridget stirring on my chest, her adorable hand closing into a fist and gripping the edge of my shirt’s collar.
