My shoulders sag. “What now?”
He tries to keep his mouth straight, but the bastard’s lips twitch. “One of Ember’s cats is stuck up a tree.”
I blink at him. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me?”
“Nope.” His grin finally cracks through. “Call came through about half an hour ago. Neighbour spotted it. Thought I’d assign it to you.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, but my pulse kicks up. “You couldn’t send anyone else?”
“I could.” Flint crosses his arms, watching me like he knows exactly what he’s doing. “But I’m not. Cat’s called Ghost, apparently. Thought you’d want to be the hero again.”
The lads snicker behind me.
Bear laughs. “Don’t suppose you had anything to do with this, Chief.”
“I might’ve coaxed the stubborn thing up there.”
I glare at all of them, but I can’t fight the grin tugging at my mouth. “You’re unbelievable, Chief.”
“Go get the cat, Coleman.” He smirks, shoving a set of keys into my hand. “And maybe make my sister see sense while you’re at it.”
“Yes sir.” I take the keys to the truck and practically fly out the door. I’m covered in soot from the fire I just put out, and I’m rushing headfirst into another blaze.
I hearEmber’s voice before I even pull up onto her curb.
“Ghost! Come on, boy. Please get down. Sansa, come on.”
She’s in the front garden, dressing gown tied tight around her waist, hair loose, wet and wild in the porch light, as if she’s not long been out of the shower, with one crutch under her arm, one hand digging into her generous hip as she peers up at the stubborn lump of fluff wedged in the branches, and a ginger tabby in the tree, like a pair of lovebirds.
“Bloody cats,” I mutter, slamming my truck door. “The mischievous little minx probably planned this along with the chief.”
Ember’s head jerks, eyes widening. “Drake… what are you doing here?”
I jab a thumb at the tree. “Apparently Ghost fancied a midnight climb. Your brother thought I should handle it.”
Her jaw sets, like she knows exactly what Flint’s up to. “Of course he did.”
I grab the ladder from my truck, ignoring the way her gaze clings to me. The climb’s quick, the rescue even quicker. Ghost yowls once, then lets me tuck him under my arm while I reach for Sansa.
Back on solid ground, I hand the ginger one over, keeping Ghost against my chest for moral support. “Your knight in shining armour,” I say dryly.
She strokes Sansa’s fur, but her eyes stay on me. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet.” My voice is rougher than I mean it to be. “We need to talk.”
Her mouth opens, then shuts. She hugs the cat tighter, like a shield, as she walks to the front door. “Drake?—”
I step over the threshold and place the cat on the floor. He darts into the living room with Sansa, like two teenagers who’ve just been caught.
“I’m sorry.” Ember tidies her kitchen. Empty bottles of wine, ice cream tubs, and boxes of chocolates line the worktop.
“You had a party?”
She scratches her neck, following my gaze. “If you mean a pity party for one, then yes.”
I’d come here guns blazing, ready for a fight, but seeing that she’s just as hurt as I am stabs me in the chest. “What happened, pumpkin?”
A sob escapes her when I call her pumpkin. “I just want you and Sienna to be happy.”
