Love in the Light - Laura Kaye Page 0,44

the sauce and meatballs into bowls for lunch and to freeze, and then she dove into doing the dishes.

When she was done, she gave in to the yearning inside her and sent Caden just one text:

Take as much time and space as you need. I’ll be here no matter how long that is. xo

She hit Send and then went to bed, hoping against hope that he’d feel better in the morning.

But the morning didn’t bring any word from Caden. Nor did the afternoon, or the next night. Or any day that week. By Friday night, Makenna was a wreck of worry and heartache. She couldn’t bring herself to go home and face her empty apartment. She was worried for him that he was in such a bad place, and she was worried for herself that it might be so bad he’d never make his way back to her.

And she didn’t know what to do.

So she went back to her apartment building to get her car. She wasn’t sure where she was going or what she was even thinking. Or maybe that was just kidding herself. Because within twenty-five minutes, she was driving down Caden’s street, and then past his small cul-de-sac. She slowed down enough to see that his place was dark and his Jeep wasn’t parked in its usual spot. So next she made her way to the Station 7 Firehouse just a few blocks away.

His Jeep wasn’t there either.

Her car idling along the curb on the far side of the street, Makenna stared at the building, a golden glow spilling out into the street from some of the windows.

Part of her was sorely tempted to go in and see if any of the guys knew where she might find him. Or at least knew how he was. Had he even been going to work? But another part of her worried that going to his job to ask after him was crossing a line. Certainly a line that violated his request for space, and possibly one that could impact his livelihood.

She couldn’t bring herself to do it…but maybe she could call one of the guys she’d gotten to know a little better. Isaac Barrett! He’d come to her house one night for dinner with Caden and a few of the other guys, he’d often made a point of talking to her when she’d come out to the station’s softball games earlier in the fall, and he’d given her a big hug when she’d dropped cookies and brownies off at the firehouse. She wouldn’t call them close, but maybe close enough to ask a couple hopefully casual-sounding questions.

Luckily, she had his cell phone number from when he’d RSVP’d for that dinner. She found it in her contacts and pressed Send.

Two rings, then, “Hello? Bear here.”

“Bear, it’s Makenna James, Caden’s—” She momentarily got tripped up on what to call herself given what was going on between them. “—uh, girlfriend.”

“Makenna of the wonderful brownies,” he said. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Hey, I’m sorry to bother you but I was wondering if you might know where Caden is.” There. That sounded casual. Right?

“Gimme a second,” he said. Muffled words she couldn’t make out sounded in the background, and then a door closed. “I’m back. So, Caden took a leave of absence. Didn’t you know?”

A leave of absence? Makenna’s belly slowly sank as a feeling of dread spread through her. Caden was so dedicated to his job, so much so that it seemed more like a calling to him. She couldn’t imagine him walking away from it. Unless he absolutely had to. “Unfortunately, no.”

“Is he okay, Makenna?” Bear asked. “His last coupla shifts, he was running way ragged.”

“He’d been sick,” she said. “But, I don’t know, maybe there’s something else.”

“Yeah,” Bear said in a knowing voice. “I hope everything’s okay.”

“So do I,” she said, her throat suddenly thick with tears. “If you hear from him, is there any chance you’d let me know? I’m…well, I’m worried.”

“Count on it,” Bear said. They hung up.

Sitting in her car in the darkness, Makenna finally gave into the tears she’d been holding back all week.

* * *

His Jeep parked in a spot behind Makenna’s building, Caden didn’t know what he was doing there. He head and his heart were still a fucked-up wreck, and he had no idea what he’d even say if he saw her. He had no more clarity, no more certainty, no more faith in himself than when he’d left there Tuesday night.