find it admirable, and honestly, ridiculously hot … I also hate it. Fawn Hill and its surrounding towns don’t have much of a crime or fire rate, but it doesn’t mean that both jobs still aren’t dangerous. The description of the career is literally putting your life on the line anytime they need it, and right now, he was running into a burning building. The thought of losing him, the man I’d loved my entire adult life, even more than I already had …
Fear is a virus spreading through my limbs as I pull on clothes, ready for what, I’m not sure. Do I assume at this moment that I’ll go drive out to the fire, try to get to him? I’m not thinking rationally, that much is clear. But I can’t help it. Even if he doesn’t want me, even after the hurtful things he said that night at the bar, even if the two of us mean nothing to each other … I can’t bear not to be there if he’s hurt.
My phone dings again, and I dive for it.
Presley: Keaton is trying to find out as much as he can. Word is, the fire has spread to the surrounding forest. They’re trying their best to put it out.
I can’t sit here, alone, while Bowen might be dying on the outskirts of town. That is what my brain in haywire chaos tells me, and before I know what I’m doing, my keys are in my hand and I’m walking out the front door. It’s only nine o’clock, but it feels like the darkness is closing in on me as I walk cautiously through my neighborhood. In reality, most of the people here are probably still awake, and I’m just letting the ghosts in my head spook me more than I should.
The distance between my townhouse and Bowen’s craftsman is nothing … and it doesn’t escape me on my nightly drive home from the library that we’re basically neighbors even though he hadn’t known that until recently. For over a year, we’ve lived down the street, in the same town, and couldn’t bring ourselves to speak about the past.
Now here I was, standing on his front porch, ringing the bell. What a stupid thing to do … clearly, he wasn’t home. Presley had told me as much, and the house was dark with his truck missing out of the driveway. But it’s instinct, and I’m surprisingly disappointed when I’m not greeted by that annoyed, gorgeous face opening the door.
I stand there, indecisive, sure that I should walk home but my feet won’t move.
I’ll just … sit here until I see his truck turn down the street and then I can go. I just need the reassurance he’s okay, and he won’t know I was ever here.
So I sit down on the top porch step and lean my head against the white wood railing. I don’t even realize when I drift off, the summer night wind breezing through my hair.
“Lily?” A gruff, surprised tone invades my ear, and I blink my eyes open.
My vision is hazy and at first, I think I’m in a dream … until the smell of the man standing in front of me hits my nose.
I blink again, straightening up where I sit on his front porch and look around me.
“I … I must have fallen asleep.” The fog of my unexpected nap still shrouds me. “You’re okay.”
He nods, tilting his head in confusion at my being here. “Did you … how are you …”
Bowen trails off, not really knowing what question to ask, and I take a moment to study him. His hair is wild, brushed this way and that … but still sexy in its chaos. His face is streaked with soot and dirt and sweat … and is that blood? His uniform pants are almost black, the greenish-yellow of them completely covered. The blue of his eyes is dulled, and he looks exhausted. The way his bones sag shows just how much he’s been through tonight.
I look up into his face, not moving from where I sit on the steps. “Presley texted me … about the fire. Said you were in the house. I …”
Swallow the emotion, Lily. I gulp, telling myself that I cannot cry in front of him. It would be foolish and misplaced, and he doesn’t care for me. Not the way I care for him.
“You were worried about me?” More questions.
“Of course, I was.” My voice cracks.
Bowen leans on