Page 45 of Just For Us


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With my dad, ignoring my existence was a pretty damn big screw-up. I did a quiet check-in with myself—plumbing the emotional depths of that little boy still inside me. The one who had grown up without a dad. The one who’d still hoped to meet him for so many years. Now, somehow, I’d finally connected with him. Less than a year before he was probably going to leave this earth.

It was a strange relief. Not that he was sick and facing down the end of his life. At least, I didn’t have to wonder anymore. I had the truth. I could sit there and tell myself I would’ve handled things differently if I’d been in his shoes. Maybe I would have. But he and my mom were barely more than teenagers. She had been twenty-two when she got pregnant. She’d joined the Air Force straight out of high school.

I was thirty-three now. The idea of being a parent felt like a big deal. When I’d been the age my mother was when she had me, I couldn’t imagine what that must’ve been like. Contemplating the responsibility of a having a child would’ve terrified me.

I took a long, slow breath and let it out. Tori slipped into my thoughts again, nudging her way inside the way she always did—quietly, insistently. She was the first woman I’d been with where I actually wondered about the future.

Oh, hell. I knew I wanted more with her. I didn’t even like considering the thought of not seeing her when I got back. That had never even occurred to me before when I’d even casually dated.

I’d always figured I was the perfect fit for this kind of life, for being a hotshot firefighter. No ties. No missing someone I loved when I was out in the field.

But now? I was surrounded by men on my crew who were happily committed. Many of them had kids back home. They made it work.

In the end, if I’d learned anything from my mom, it was that you made the life you had work. She had done more than that with me.

I knew that no matter what happened with Tori, we could make it work, too. But I also knew how hard trust came for her, and the long shadows cast by what happened in her family.

I understood why. What a fucking asshole her dad had been.

I took another deep breath, letting it out slowly as I stared up at the stars. I counted a few and tried to get my thoughts settled before I drifted off to sleep.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Tori

Two weeks later

“They got extended,” Maisie said, shaking her head slightly. “Sometimes they’re out for as long as a month.” I’d just stopped by Firehouse Café and encountered Maisie there at the counter.

“I heard they haven’t gotten any rain up there yet either,” I added. I took a swallow of coffee, willing the churn of my anxiety to slow inside. I missed Kincaid, and I didn’t even know what to do with that feeling.

“I miss Beck,” Maisie said flatly.

Casey tipped her head to the side. “Completely understand. I always miss Leo when he’s out working.”

All of a sudden, Maisie turned toward me. “Do you miss Kincaid?”

My cheeks burned. I tried to play it cool before I gave up and let out a little laugh. “Yes, I do. In all honesty, I miss him a lot.”

“It’s not great, but you’ll get used to it,” she offered matter-of-factly.

“Will I, though?” I couldn’t help but ask.

Casey sighed. “You’ll have to if you’re going to stay with him. If you don’t want to get used to it, well, you'd better stay away from the firefighters.”

I snorted. “There’s a lot of firefighters in Willow Brook.”

“Tell me about it,” Luna said dryly.

“How serious are you two?” Casey asked.

I paused, contemplating that question, as much for myself as for trying to answer. “I don’t know,” I said slowly.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Maisie asked, her brows rising.

“I don’t know,” was all I could offer in return. I wished I knew how serious we were. I knew my feelings were starting to feel big in a way I’d never expected. Against my better judgment, Kincaid had knocked away my defenses, and I hadn’t even seen him coming.

Just then, a cluster of customers came in, and Casey and Luna shifted into work mode to wait on them. Maisie dragged me over to a table. “I need company—adult company,” she explained as we sat down.