The sun had finally dipped below the horizon when they left the tavern two hours later. While country music blared inside the bar, as soon as the door closed behind them, all Ivy could hear was the buzz of the cicadas and the occasional chirp of a cricket.
“Wow,” Carter said, looking up and down the street. “This place really does shut down at night, doesn’t it?”
“Did you live in Houston proper?” she asked. “I imagine this is a far cry from city life. Spent some time in Boston when Charlie and Allison first had the baby and then again after he…” She cut herself off and shook her head.
Charlie had thought their parents would flip when he told them he was moving to the east coast to be near Allison’s family. Instead they’d seen it as an adventure—a reason to travel more—especially with their father nearing retirement. Ivy hadn’t expected them to move there permanently, but then no one expected Charlie to die. After that, her parents couldn’t leave the place where their son was buried, and Ivy couldn’t blame them. “It’s like it’s happening for the first time every time I think of it. I wonder if it will ever get any easier.”
They walked slowly, Carter seemingly careful to keep his hands in his pockets, which she appreciated. If his pinky accidentally brushed hers, she might do something stupid, like hooking her finger around his.
Why had it been so easy to mention Charlie’s name with a man who was a stranger before this morning? To share a sacred shot of apple pie liqueur and even her fried pickles? Opening day was a success, but she couldn’t get past how it had started, with a fire and the reminder of what she’d lost. And here was this man who was the embodiment of that loss, and he’d somehow made it better.
“Couldn’t you have been a jerk instead of a perfect gentleman?” she mumbled.
“Did you say something?” he asked.
She turned her head toward him, her eyes wide. “What? No. Cicadas,” she said, protesting a bit too much.
“Cicadas,” he mused. “Sure thing, Serrano.”
She shifted her gaze back to the sidewalk and tried to ignore the charming lilt of his accent. They ambled along the sidewalk to where it looked like the street hit a dead end at the trees, but she kept on to the right and led him to a small residential area where most of the Meadow Valley locals lived if they weren’t farmers or ranchers.
“It’ll always hurt,” he said as they slowed around the curve. “But after a while the hurt has a harder time clawing its way to the surface. It gets covered up by the good memories of the person you lost and eventually by new joy you let into your life—when you’re ready, of course.”
She stopped, shoved her hands in the back pockets of her own jeans, and turned to face him.
She stared at him for several long seconds. They were the only two people outside at the moment, but the way he looked at her made it feel like the quiet street was their own little world. If he were anyone else—if he did anything else for a living other than risking his life—she would… What would she do? The only relationship Ivy’d had for the past two years was with her own grief. She still wrapped it around herself like a blanket—a reminder to protect her heart from ever having to go through that again.
“You ever lose someone close to you?” she finally asked.
He nodded once but hesitated before saying more.
“It’s okay,” she said, breaking the silence. “You don’t have to tell me. It helps enough simply knowing when people understand.”
He cleared his throat. “We already shared my first emergency since coming to town, my first taste of fried pickles, and my first and last shot of apple pie liqueur. Why not share personal loss as well?”
His attempt at humor would have sounded callous if she couldn’t tell it was a defense mechanism. She was an expert there.
“I’m all ears,” she said.
He shrugged. “I was an idiot kid who got in the car after a party with a buddy who shouldn’t have been driving. But because I’d been drinking, too, I believed him when he said he was okay to drive. Made it all the way to my street before he lost control and wrapped the car around a light post. Front end caught fire. I got out—and he didn’t.”
He said the words so quickly and matter-of-factly, like it was the only way he could get them out. It didn’t stop her heart from aching, or the tears from pooling in her eyes. He more than understood what she’d been through yet hadn’t said a word all night while she’d cocooned herself in her grief blanket tighter than she had in months.
She reached for him but pulled her hand away before making contact. This was too much. Their connection kept getting harder to ignore. She had to make a concerted effort to keep him at arm’s length.
“I’m so sorry, Carter. I—you—this whole night you were so nice to me, and I had no idea that—”
There were no right words for wanting to wrap him in her arms while also wanting to run as far from him as possible.
“Hey there,” he said, resting a palm on her cheek and wiping away a tear with his thumb.
She shook her head and stepped back, hating herself for doing it. But all she had left was self-preservation, and Lieutenant Carter Bowen was the biggest threat to it.
He cleared his throat, taking a step back himself. “It was more than a decade ago. And I meant what I said. It does get easier. I can talk about Mason now—remember how he was the best at making people laugh, even our teachers. He kicked the winning field goal at our homecoming game junior year. And he had a real future planned, you know? Football was going to take him to college, but he wanted to be a doctor. A pediatrician, actually.” Carter laughed. “He was the one on the straight and narrow path while I cut class more often than I went.”
Her eyes widened. “I don’t believe that for a second.”
He forced a smile.
“It’s true. I never cut for the sake of cutting. It was always for work. My brothers and I knew from the time we were young that our future was already mapped out. After graduation, my two older brothers went to work at my old man’s auto body shop. I was supposed to do the same. It wasn’t like there was money for college for three kids, least of all the youngest.” He shrugged. “I accepted my fate like my brothers had—until Mason died.”
Ivy crossed her arms tight over her chest, the urge to touch him—to comfort him—almost more than she could bear. “You changed direction after the accident,” she said. It wasn’t a question. She knew.
He nodded. “Much to my father’s dissatisfaction, but I was done letting others make decisions for me, especially when I know better than anyone else what’s right for me.”
“What about your mom?” she asked, tentatively.
“She was sort of caught in the middle. She understood us both but wasn’t about to take sides. So I got my grades up senior year. Did two years at community college, got my EMT certification, then took out a loan so I could finish my bachelor’s in fire science.”
“So fighting fires is your penance for surviving when Mason didn’t?”
He shook his head. “Maybe it started that way, but the more I learned, the more I realized I could help people in all sorts of capacities. Even did some presentations at local schools about my firsthand experience being in the car with someone under the influence. I hope to set up a similar program in Meadow Valley and neighboring areas.”
She let out a shaky breath. “You’re a good man, Carter. Your father should be proud of you. I hope he comes around someday.” Ivy dropped her hands to her sides. “I’m only a few more minutes this way. You can head back if you want.”
He glanced up at the star-studded sky, then back at her. “Don’t really have anywhere to be. Plus, I promised Casey, and I don’t want to get on the bad side of the person who runs the one nighttime establishment around here.”
She shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
But she smiled softly as she turned away from him and strode toward the bend in the road. The safest thing she could do was put as much distance between herself and Carter Bowen as possible, but a few more minutes with him by her side wouldn’t hurt anyone.
He didn’t say anything for the rest of walk, letting her silently lead him to her porch, where she stopped short of the front door and pivoted to face him once again.
“Can I ask you something?” he finally said.
“Okay,” she answered.
He scratched the back of his neck, avoiding her eyes for a moment, then squared his shoulders and set his blue-eyed gaze right at her.
“I’ve dated plenty. Some relationships got more serious than others, but I’ve never told a woman about Mason until tonight, and it hasn’t even been twelve hours since I met you, Ivy Serrano. Why do you suppose that is?”
Because, Lieutenant, there’s an undeniable connection between us.
Because, Lieutenant, if I believed in such a thing, I’d say we were kindred spirits.
Because, Lieutenant, it feels like it’s been more than twelve hours. If it didn’t sound so crazy, I’d say I felt like I’ve known you all my life.
But it wouldn’t help either of them to say any of that. So she swallowed the knot in her throat. “Because, Lieutenant, I’m simply a good listener. It’s my blessing—and maybe my curse. People like to tell me things they wouldn’t tell anyone else. I guess I just have one of those faces.” She shrugged, hoping it would sell the lie. “I wouldn’t read any more into it than that.”
Except that I’m a liar, and I want to kiss you, and you scare me, Lieutenant.
She finally gave in and skimmed her fingers along the hair at his temples and where it curled up above his ear. She couldn’t let the night end without any sort of contact, hoping he understood this was the most she could allow herself to give.
“You need a trim,” she said. “I could do it. Casey went to cosmetology school right after high school. She used to practice on Charlie, even taught me how to do a simple cut.”
He laughed. “And here I thought you were going to break your own rules and do something crazy.”
“Like what?” she asked, but she knew. She wouldn’t be the one to say it, though. She wouldn’t break the rules.
“Like kiss me,” he said. And even though he was teasing her, hearing the words out loud made her realize how much she wanted them to be true.
Her cheeks flushed. “I don’t date firefighters, Lieutenant. And you made it very clear that you don’t want to date me.”
“Good. Then we’re both on the same page. I can’t let anything get in the way of work right now. My future rides on everything that happens in the next month. Plus, I’ve already dated a woman or two who either couldn’t handle the hours I worked or the risks I took. I won’t change who I am, not for my father and not for any woman, even if it means missing out on something great. On someone great. No matter how much you bat those big brown eyes at me.”
“I do not bat my lashes,” she insisted. “Wait, what did you just say?”
She stood there, eyes wide, for a long moment as everything he said registered. Then she held out her right hand.
“Friends, then?” she said, the word leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. But it was all she could offer and all that it seemed he’d be willing to take.
He wrapped his hand around hers, his calloused palm sending a shock of electricity up her arm as he shook.
“Friends it is.”
“Well then,” she said. “I’m around after five tomorrow if you want that haircut. No charge, of course. Just a favor from one friend to another.”
He nodded once, then let her hand go. “Appreciate the offer. I’ll get back to you on that. Good night, Ms. Serrano.”
“Good night, Lieutenant.”
He flashed her a grin, spun on his heel, and then headed off the way he had come.
Ivy leaned against her door and let out a long, shaky breath.
“Friends,” she said to herself. “Friends.”
If she said it enough, she might even it believe it was true.