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He’d lost the woman he loved, the brother he’d never had, his surrogate family and the man who’d stepped in and become his father figure.
When everything had happened in California a few weeks ago and he’d found himself on forced leave for two months, the only thing he’d wanted was to come home and lick his wounds.
He should have known that the ones still festering deep inside would just get ripped back open and add to the misery.
Colt’s gaze, the same deep brown as Lola’s, stared back at him, steady and completely unreadable. For a split second Erik wondered if the other man just wanted to get him alone so he could rip him a new one without an audience.
Not that he didn’t deserve it.
“Yeah, okay.” Backing up, he gestured for Colt to lead the way. Chairs scraped across the floor behind him, and soft voices murmured. Someone flipped on the music that had stopped after he threw the first punch.
At the door, he couldn’t prevent himself from glancing behind him. He wasn’t sure whether he wanted her to be watching him leave or ignoring him like he probably deserved. But she wasn’t doing either.
Lola was gone.
* * *
ERIK STOOD BY, a little helpless, as Colt, using the door and the handle in the ceiling, levered himself up from his wheelchair and into the front seat of Erik’s truck. Erik wanted to offer to help, but wasn’t sure it would be appreciated.
Besides, it obviously wasn’t needed.
Colt pointed to his wheelchair. “Pull up on the seat and it’ll fold. Stash it in the back so we can get out of here.” He swung around to settle in the passenger seat. “We have some catching up to do.”
For the last six years, Erik had worked as a smoke jumper, taking risks and pushing himself to the brink of disaster to fight out-of-control forest fires. Because he could. Because he was damn good at it.
Because he had nothing to lose.
He’d moved around a lot, never settling with one team or in one place. He’d been in Idaho, Washington, Alaska, Montana and, most recently, California.
Over that time, he’d used the excuse that he was busy to stay away from Sweetheart, coming home mostly at holidays. He’d always managed to avoid Colt and Lola during those trips, telling himself he was there to spend time with his mom anyway.
That was a lie. He hadn’t wanted to deal with the accusation he knew would fill their expressions.
The entire drive to his place, Colt kept up a steady stream of conversation. On one hand, it felt like the last six years hadn’t even happened and they were right back where they’d always been.
And if he hadn’t just picked up the chair Colt was forced to live in, maybe Erik could have pretended. He should have stayed in California. Coming home was a stupid idea.
The pressure of all the words he wanted to say—should have said six years ago—clogged his throat. So Erik sat there, his grip on the steering wheel getting tighter and tighter. Screw his jacked-up knuckles and the pain shooting through his hands. That was nothing compared to what Colt had to live with.
How could he ever ask forgiveness for what he’d cost Colt?
He couldn’t.
If Colt noticed Erik’s brusque responses, he didn’t let on. Erik pulled into Colt’s driveway, put the truck in Park and set up his chair outside the open passenger door.
Reaching out, Colt rolled the chair close and then dropped into the seat, repositioning his legs. Colt had always been a strong guy, but even Erik had to marvel at the flex of his biceps.
“Jesus man, what do you bench these days?”
Colt laughed. “More than I used to.”
“Obviously.” Erik shifted uncomfortably on his feet, about to make his escape. Before he could, Colt started rolling away.
“Get your ass in here and have a beer. And some ice. I bet your hand is throbbing like a bitch.”
Erik followed. What else was he supposed to do? “I’ve had worse.”
“Yeah, like the time you wrecked that piece of shit motorcycle you bought off the internet.”
God, he’d forgotten about that. It really had been a piece of shit, but he’d planned to repair it. The bike could have been amazing...if he hadn’t run it off the road on the way home, smashing it into a tree. He hadn’t been seriously injured, but the bike was toast.
Colt, who had been following behind him, picked up the pieces and drove him to the hospital. And he kept the truth from Erik’s mom, who hadn’t wanted him to buy a bike in the first place.
Those were the days. When he had a brother backing him up. Not that he didn’t get along with the guys he worked with now, but it wasn’t the same. You couldn’t replace the kind of history he’d shared with Colt.
Colt didn’t bother stopping to give Erik the grand tour, just wheeled straight to the side-by-side freezer, tossed him a bag of frozen peas without even looking and then snagged two beers.
The peas felt good on the back of his hand. But the cool beer flowing down his throat felt better.
Although he nearly spit the mouthful back out again when Colt said, “This is the point in the evening’s entertainment when I tell you to get your head out of your ass.”
“Excuse me?”
Colt gave him a pointed stare. “First, whatever you keep thinking when you look at me, forget it. Me being in this chair is not your fault.”
“Yes, it is.”
“No, it isn’t. I made my own choices that night, Erik, knowing full well the risks involved. I agreed to those risks every time I went into a burning building.”
“But you shouldn’t have been there. You wouldn’t have been if I hadn’t gone in after Chief gave the order to pull back.”
Colt rolled across the kitchen floor, wheels squeaking softly against the hardwood. “Come here.”
“What?”
“Come here.” He crooked a finger.
With a shake of his head, Erik leaned down and yelped when Colt smacked him in the back of the head.
“What the hell?” he asked, rubbing the spot.
“Someone needs to knock some sense into you. You know me better than that. Always have. If you hadn’t gone back into that building, I would have. I wasn’t about to leave another boy without a dad if there was something I could do about it. Just like you.”
A jolt rocked through Erik. His hands clenched. And a weight he’d been carrying for so long finally...fell away.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. He needed to say the words. Maybe not for Colt, but for himself.
“Yeah, man. I know. What happened sucked, but it was an accident. I’ve found peace and purpose in it. I’m about to graduate with my master’s in psychology. My plan is to help people deal with difficult situations like mine. I’m good. I promise. You, on the other hand, are in a world of trouble.”
Wait. Hadn’t they just cleared the air?
“What the hell do you think you’re doing with my sister?”
With a groan, Erik slumped against the kitchen counter and knocked back a huge gulp from his bottle.
“Nothing. I’m not doing anything with your sister.”
“That’s not what it sounded like. It sounded like you’ve been home for less than a handful of days and have already managed to get her into bed.”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“Sure, because your dick accidentally slipped, right?”
“Hey! I woke up from a dead sleep to find your sister in my bed wearing nothing but a bra and the skimpiest panties on this earth.”
Colt made a disgusted sound and ground his palms into his eye sockets. “That’s a visual I will never be able to wipe from my brain, asshole.”
Erik had to chuckle. This, at least, was familiar territory. This sounded like countless other conversations they’d had about his relationship with Lola. Honestly, there was a part of him that had enjoyed torturing Colt on occasion. So he was human. Whatever.
“Look, I said it back then and I’ll say it now. You’re both adults, so what you do together is between you guys.”
“You say that, but why don’t I believe you?”
“Because unlike before, this time I know what’s coming—for both of you. What happens when it’s time for you to leave town again, Erik? Lola was devastated. You didn’t have to watch her waste away for months, heartbroken that you’d left without even really telling her goodbye. You didn’t watch the hope she couldn’t quite extinguish slowly drive her crazy...until it finally went out altogether. Which, I have to tell you, was ten times worse.”
Setting his bottle on the counter, Colt backed away, putting space between them.
“All I’m saying is that you really need to think hard before you act. What do you want? And what’s best for Lola? Don’t start something with her again if you’re not sure you can give it one hundred percent this time. I’m not sure she’d survive the aftermath of you running again. And we both know that these days, running is what you’re good at.”
Without waiting for his response, Colt rolled away, heading into the back of the house.
Erik had been dismissed.
But Colt’s words followed Erik out the door and back to his mom’s place. His friend had always been the smart one.
He needed to leave Lola alone. They’d crashed and burned before. Neither of them could survive doing it again.
* * *
IT HAD BEEN six weeks since he’d seen Lola. After his talk with Colt, he’d purposely avoided her so he wouldn’t make another mistake with her.
The last thing he wanted was to hurt her more than he already had.
Honestly, Colt’s words had scared him—a hell of a lot more than parachuting out of a plane into any wildfire he’d faced.
He’d picked up more shifts at the station. A couple of the teams often operated with three men instead of four so it was easy to fill the empty spot, especially when he’d worked with most of the guys before and had a rapport. That history made it easy to blend into a cohesive group.
There were moments when he missed the adrenaline rush of smoke jumping. But with a little distance, he’d realized his chief back in California was right. He’d needed a break. For the last six years he’d been going nonstop. Running from fire to fire in some misguided attempt to make up for what had happened in Sweetheart.
And instead, he’d barreled straight into another tragedy that had cost him a friend and sent him careening into a situation that had almost cost him his own life. Losing Aaron had carried with it a warped sense of déjà vu.
Standing behind Aaron’s widow, listening to her muffled sobs, had ripped something open inside him. And he’d taken the bleeding mess straight into another fire and used it to push himself beyond the point of breaking.
Cut off from the team, surrounded by fire with no way out, he’d been lucky. They’d managed to rescue him. He’d been grateful, until Chief had given him the two-month suspension for ignoring orders.
Restless, it had only taken him a few days to realize he needed to be somewhere other than California, watching news stories about a wildfire his team was fighting but he wasn’t allowed to touch.
So he’d come home to Sweetheart and walked straight into a history that he’d never actually dealt with. Seeing Lola...it had been like a shot to the gut. He’d wanted her. Missed her.
That single night they’d shared wasn’t nearly enough. Nothing between them ever had been. Even back when they were dating, he’d felt this overwhelming need to be with her. To touch her. To listen to her talk and rile her up. Lola was so passionate and interesting...he constantly wanted more of her.
Not smart.
Today Erik had come home from an unusually long shift during which he’d barely gotten three hours of sleep, none of them consecutive. They’d been called out on two accidents. In one, a four-year-old child had been trapped inside the twisted metal of a totaled car. Luckily, they’d gotten him out, and from all reports, he had minor injuries and would be fine.
Then, around midnight, they’d gotten a call about smoke coming from the attic in a two-story house just inside the city limits. That one hadn’t taken long to extinguish, but before they’d even returned to the station, they were sent back out on a medical call.
Erik had dropped into his bunk and gotten forty-five minutes before a three-alarm apartment fire had come in. That one had kept him up way past time for his shift to end.
He hadn’t gotten home until almost 10:00 a.m. and then immediately dropped into sleep. Now it was well past three and he was finally awake. Sort of. His mother was banging something downstairs, the sound of it reverberating through his throbbing skull.
He definitely needed more sleep. Or coffee. Lots of coffee.
Realizing sleep probably wasn’t in the cards, Erik pushed up from the bed and tossed on a pair of sweats, not bothering with a shirt. He could smell whatever his mom was cooking, and it was making his stomach rumble. He hadn’t eaten in hours.
Shuffling downstairs, he paused in the doorway of the kitchen to find his mom rolling out pie dough. God, he loved his mom’s pies. When he was younger he hadn’t appreciated all the sacrifices she’d made for him. As a single mom, she’d worked two jobs to provide for him and still somehow managed to have enough energy to do things like bake homemade cookies to include in his lunches and her famous peach pie for Sunday supper.
“Please tell me you aren’t taking that to the neighbors or something.” Because that was a distinct possibility, and Erik wasn’t sure he could deal with the disappointment right now. Not with his head pounding and his body still begging for sleep.
It would be cruel and unusual punishment.
“Of course not. I know you had a rough shift last night, so I wanted to make your favorite.” His mom beamed at him, and a short burst of love mixed with guilt shot through him.
He hadn’t been home nearly enough since Colt’s accident.
Crossing the kitchen, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in for a bear hug. She was a small woman, but somehow he’d never thought of her that way. Not once in his entire life had he heard his mother complain. She always wore a smile, even if it was sometimes lopsided from exhaustion.
“Love you, Mom,” he mumbled into the top of her head before stepping back.
“What was that for?” she asked, staring up at him out of her calm, steady eyes, which matched his own.
“Can’t I give my mom a hug and tell her I love her?”
“Anytime you want.” She offered him a serene smile, turning back to the ingredients spread across the counter. “I’ve also got a roast in the oven. Everything should be ready in a couple hours. I wasn’t sure how long you’d sleep.”
“Great. That gives me enough time to fix the faucet upstairs. The handle keeps falling off whenever I turn the water on.”
“Yeah. I’ve been meaning to call someone in to take a look, but there really hasn’t been a need since you haven’t been home.”
