Heat pooled low in my belly, and I felt the strongest pull. My hand fell to his chest, where I could feel the rapid thump of his heart. I wasn’t thinking, at all, when I leaned up and brought my lips to his. I wasn’t sure what would happen, but he met me right there. His hand, palming my cheek.
I felt rare in this moment, fragile. Our lips brushed together once, and then again, his lingering on mine for a beat before he drew away. Just close enough for me to still feel his breath.
“You’re human,” he said. “You’re allowed to fall apart sometimes.”
I started to shake my head to argue the point, but I was tired. And, honestly, so off-kilter. “Okay,” I whispered.
When his arms slid around my waist, and he held me for a few beats of my heart, all I could think was that no matter how unsettled I was, I truly did feel safe when I was with him.
The sound of the door opening onto the deck snapped through the moment. We stepped apart. My head whipped toward the noise, wondering who had come out. Someone shook a dustpan into the trash can tucked just outside the door on the porch.
“Are you still working?” Kincaid asked.
I took a shaky breath, gathering myself. “Yeah.”
“I’ll walk you back in.”
A few minutes later, I was back in the rhythm. Although time and again, I found my gaze darting over to where Kincaid was at the bar with a few other firefighters.
Shelly was gone, and she’d left me a ridiculous tip. “You can’t bribe me, Shelly,” I whispered to the cash as I tucked it into my apron.
I knew I needed to talk to my mom about seeing her. I wasn’t ready, though. I told myself I could deal with that on another day.
The heat from that brief kiss with Kincaid still felt like embers burning inside.
I fell asleep hours later at home, thoughts of him spinning through my mind.
Chapter Eight
Kincaid
“You got that?” I glanced over at my mom.
Her eyes twinkled as she replied, “Of course I’ve got it.”
Her hand was curled around her cane, and it twisted my heart to see her using one. “Now, come on. Catch up, Kincaid,” she teased.
A few minutes later, we were situated in an exam room at the doctor’s office, and the friendly med assistant was smiling at my mom, who made light of absolutely everything when it came to her health.
My heart gave another twist when I looked over at her. The thing was, she was at peace. And yet, I constantly fended off worry on her behalf. She was all I had when it came to family for me. It had always been just me and her against the world.
It wasn’t as if life with my mom had been perfect. There was no such thing. But there’d never been a moment where I doubted her love, and never a time when she didn’t make the best of whatever the situation at hand offered us.
I was old enough now to know she had kept us going on a threadbare budget. She was a really good cook and made the best of what we had. To this day, one of my favorite comfort meals was whatever pasta she picked up at what I now knew was a food bank, tossed with nothing more than butter, chicken or beef, and whatever seasonings she had in the cabinet.
“How’s your pain level?” Heidi, the med assistant, was asking.
My mom tilted her head to the side, lightly tapping her fingertips on one knee. “Well, I’d like to lie and tell you it’s fine.” She lifted one shoulder in barely a shrug. “I live with pain, but I hate pain medication. It makes my brain fuzzy.”
Heidi nodded, her eyes flicking to mine briefly. “How about you rate your pain on a scale of one to ten?”
My mom rolled her eyes. “Heidi, get real with me.”
Heidi smiled slightly, but her brow furrowed, and worry flickered in her eyes. “I know you’re going to tell me you just live with it, but I’d like to know how bad it feels for you. Quality of life is important.”
My mother’s sigh filtered out. “Well, a ten is if I’m in the emergency room and something truly horrible has happened, say a bone is sticking out of my leg.”
Heidi’s eyes widened slightly while I snorted. “My mom definitely tries not to exaggerate,” I offered dryly.
