“Merry Christmas Eve.” He got up and gave her a hug. She leaned into it, smelling his aftershave from his endless attempts to control his beard. “I wasn’t sure you were going to make it tonight with your schedule.”
“Couldn’t resist, but I forgot your Christmas present.”
“You are the Christmas present,” he said. “Though your other presents were nice.”
“And transparent. Not tonight, though, because I am tired,” Erin admitted.
“Want your present?” he squeezer her tighter.
“Save it for the weekend. If I crash here, I’ll pick up yours tomorrow before I come back… I am allowed to do that?” It occurred to Erin she’d essentially invited herself to his place for the holiday.
“See you twice on Christmas? That’s the perfect present.” Noah rubbed his cheek against hers, prickling her skin with his fast growing five o’clock shadow.
“Even if I spend most of it asleep?”
“You’re cute when you’re asleep. Let me grab you water.” He filled a glass in the kitchen. “Holiday shifts have no time to eat or drink between calls, which is making it worse.”
“Had an awful run to MetroGen. A pregnant woman mom with a heart problem at MetroGen begged me to save her baby.” She sipped her water and set it on the coffee table.
“Sounds tough.” He hugged her again.
“It was awful.” she folded herself into his arms and rested her head on his shoulder.
“That bad?”
“It was that bad. I think she’s dying.” Erin hated to say those words.
“Dying?” his hand stilled, and he stiffened. “Did you have to deliver her in the field? MetroGen didn’t call me.”
“No. Why would you think that? We scooped and ran like we’re supposed to. She kept asking me to save the baby. To tell the doctors to save the baby. And there was nothing I could do.”
“Those are the worst calls,” he agreed. “But more importantly, are you okay? These past months have been hard, but you shake things off. The gasoline tank and being at 13 alone.”
“Firehouse 13 is fine. They’ll be a good team someday, and I have Theo. As for the gasoline, I’m a firefighter. Climbing into a flammable container is another day at work.”
“I’m asking you if you’re okay.”
“The gasoline thing was easy. I knew what to do. My path was clear—save the kids, save Carver. But this… no good path.”
“Your path was clear. Get her to the hospital. Let the doctors figure it out,” Noah reminded her.
“The pain doesn’t end just because I did what I had to do. What about her? You didn’t see her. ‘Save the baby, not me,’ she said. How can anyone, doctor or not, make a decision like that?”
“You learn to live with it. You have to live with it.”
“No, this one was different.”
“Was it? You saved those two kids before Carver in the gasoline tank, even though he had the best chance of survival. You picked the choice that helped the greatest number of people.”
“But they were in more danger. Carver had time,” she protested.
“You didn’t know that. You picked those kids over Carver, your teammate, because it was the best choice you had, even if it was a decision you didn’t want to make.”
“And the road to hell is paved with good intentions. I know it’s not my fault. But, Noah, she said it was her dead husband’s baby… and that was all she had left. Who should I save? Who would you save?”
He took her chin in his hands, staring into her eyes. “We can’t save everyone. You can only do the best you can. You’re an amazing firefighter and an amazing person. You are the best.”
Her breath caught. This man. This feeling between them. It was everything every stupid love song she’d ever heard talked about. Every movie she’d ever seen that ended with the epic kiss. She’d never been in a relationship so honest and true, where he listened and wanted to hear her. It was the type of relationship her parents had never had.
