“It’s not stupid,” I say automatically. Because it isn’t, and I don’t like him talking down on himself.
“I’ve gotten a lot better with things. I’ve kinda had to when I spend so much of my time on planes and in hotels, but sometimes you can have all the exposure therapy in the world, and there will be one thing that reverses all the progress you made.”
That’s something I know all too well, but I’m not going to dump my own trauma at his feet.
“One setback doesn’t mean you’ve failed, though,” I say, and I have to shove my hands into my pockets to stop myself from reaching out to him. This need to comfort him is something I don’t usually experience with anyone else. “And I can tell you one thing, none of us here think any differently of you. If anything, I think you’re incredibly brave.”
Surprise flickers across his face at my statement. “I am?”
“Yeah. You didn’t let your fear get the better of you when you got back in another elevator with me, and I assume you have to put yourself into a lot of different situations you’d rather not be in.”
He drops his chin and uses the toe of his shoe to scuff a spot on the floor. I’m glad my hands are in my pockets because it takes everything in me not to take hold of his chin and lift his head up. To let me look into those pale eyes that are almost like green glass in the sun.
But I resist, ignoring this needy desire that burns inside me whenever I’m around him. A fire I haven’t felt since Duncan died.
Because I can’t go down that road.
“I made you these,” he says after a long minute and holds out the pink box.Jacob’s Delicious Dessertsis written on the top in cursive lettering. “Well, my brother-in-law helped me. He owns the bakery with his brother, so he’s a professional.”
I take the box but keep my eyes fixed on Elliot as he continues.
“But I helped. Well, kinda.” He lets out a defeated sigh and runs a hand through his loose blond waves. “Okay, so maybe he did most of it, but I put the chocolate chips in, then I made them into balls to put on the tray.” He tenses, and his eyes widen suddenly. “Wait. Can you eat chocolate? I have a teammate who can’t eat dairy, and that includes chocolate. Oh, shit. I’m gonna end up killing you, aren’t I?”
“Don’t worry,” I laugh. “I can eat chocolate. You’re not gonna kill me.”
His entire body sags in relief. “Thank god. I would’ve been really upset about that.”
I can’t stop my mouth from tipping up with a smile. “Yeah, me too.”
His expression turns soft and shy. Those full, pillowy lips curl up as he dips his head again and looks up at me from beneath his lashes.
Fuck. In another life, I would ask him out. I’d promise him anything he wanted and make sure everyone knew he was mine.
But I’ve learned the hard way that life is a cruel beast, and men like me don’t deserve angels like Elliot Olsen.
“Thank you for making these,” I say with genuine gratitude. “You didn’t have to do anything, but I’m definitely going to enjoy these with a cup of coffee.”
The way his face lights up has something tugging in my chest. Like hearing I’m going to enjoy something he did is the highlight of his day.
“I better go. Alex is waiting for me outside.” He points over his shoulder.
“Thanks again”—I lift the box up—“for these.”
He smiles softly. “Thanks for saving me, Hunter.”
I want to argue that I didn’t save him, but before I can get my words out, he turns on his heels and heads toward the door.
The following morning, I swing by the grocery store to grab some things for breakfast before heading home.
The house I share with my uncle isn’t anything special. A three-bed town house with a small yard in a quiet neighborhood. It doesn’t have a view of the ocean, unlike my last home in California, and it doesn’t have the scenic views I became familiar with growing up in Massachusetts. But it takes me less than thirty minutes to drive into work—or less than twenty if I’m riding my motorcycle, and it’s somewhere that Duncan never visited. It’s free of any memory of him, except for the ones that live in my head.
After my ten years with the Navy SEALS were up, I needed to get away. A fresh start. There was nothing left for me in Coronado. Literally. The home I shared with Duncan went up in flames while I was deployed, taking my husband and everything I owned, and I didn’t want to go back home to Massachusetts.
Everywhere I went, it reminded me of Duncan. We met in high school, and he supported me through everything. He was easygoing and charismatic, and could light up a room the second he stepped inside. People often called us the black catand golden retriever couple because we couldn’t have been more different, yet we worked together.
And while I still loved him, constantly being reminded of him was haunting me. His favorite coffee shop or the local brand of ice cream he would buy in bulk. Everywhere I went was a reminder, and I could sense myself starting to spiral. I knew if I didn’t get out, the odds were not going to be in my favor.
That’s where Uncle Walter came in. Now a retired fire chief, he spent four decades living and working in Chicago and offered me to stay with him under the guise he needed help around the house. It was the out I needed. He’s never been married and has no kids. He devoted his life to the Chicago Fire Department, and now, all he was left with was a broken body and his nephew taking up his space.
