Fire at Twilight: The Firefighters of Darling Bay 1 (14 page)

Tox said, “I’ve seen some pretty men. I won’t argue with you on that,” and Grace felt herself fall a little further.

She put in her silver hoop earrings, the ones Samantha had given her years ago. At one point, she’d wondered if Sam had stolen them. Or bought them with money made in a way that could get a person jailed. Or worse.

She fingered them gingerly. She loved them, no matter where they came from.

“You look incredible.”

Surprised, Grace looked down at herself. “Me?” Her voice felt high and nervous, as if she were speaking while crossing a tightrope. She was only wearing a black t-shirt and jeans with old yellow cowboy boots. Her favorite comfort outfit. “I thought I looked kind of … not that good.”

“One,” he pulled her back into the wide circle of his arms, “You do look that good. And two, I wasn’t looking at your clothes.”

He kissed her, and Grace came perilously close to forgetting why she had her keys in her hands.

“No,” she said, pulling away with difficulty, ignoring the heat that rose inside her. “I’m going.”

“I want to see you later,” Tox said.

“Okay …” she said. The word was easy, but it fell into the space between them awkwardly. “I mean … when Sam is better, and when you’re on your time off again, you go in for a couple of days tomorrow, right? It’s just …”

“Grace.” He tilted her head up by touching her chin. “We had a good time, right?”

A good time.
Is that what people called it now? Was it that easy for him? “Yeah.”

“Then maybe you’ll think about giving me a call later today.”

“Sure.”

“Or come by the station tomorrow.”

“Sure.”

He nodded and released her. “Seems like that’s the best I’m going to get out of you, then.”

“You got the best out of me last night, I think.” She wanted to sound bold and brazen, but instead, she just sounded shy.

He laughed.

Grace didn’t like the confusion she felt inside. What was wrong with her? She was scared to see any more of him, in case she really did fall, and at the same time, she hated the thought of
not
being around him.

They left the house together. It felt strange to turn and lock the door behind them. Like any other couple on a Wednesday morning. They walked down the steps, their arms brushing. With a salute at the edge of her walkway, Tox grinned as he turned right to head to his truck.

Walking toward her car, Grace wondered how in the world he could be so casual. Maybe he was that used to leaving the house of a woman in the morning? The thought made her feel faintly ill. But she would ignore it …

Behind her came fast footfalls. A large hand at her elbow. Tox spun her, pulling her into his arms.

“You fit here, you know that?”

Grace’s mouth dropped open.

“I love the way you fit in my arms. This could be good. It might actually be
good,
” said Tox. Then he kissed her once, hard. “I just wanted to make sure I told you that.”

He let her go. Grace watched him walk away, her fingers on her lips, trying to swallow the smile that just wouldn’t go away.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

In the hospital, Samantha said, “It’s about time!”

Grace pulled out her cell phone and glanced at it. “You said you would call me, though. Oh.”

“I’ve been calling since last night. They said I could go home at seven this morning, but you never came.”

“I’m sorry,” Grace said. “I didn’t see the messages. I had my ringer off, I guess. I’m so sorry. How are you feeling?”

Sam stretched one arm in front of her and then the other. “I hurt. I feel muscles I didn’t even know existed. Ever.”

“You look amazing,” said Grace, touching the side of her sister’s face softly.

Samantha winced and pulled away. “I saw. I look like an alcoholic ex-prizefighter.”

“Who got in a car wreck after losing his last round.”

“After being hit on the head with a frying pan by his wife when she found out he was cheating on her,” said Samantha.

“Something like that,” Grace said.

Samantha made a buzzing noise and stood, slowly. “Not what you tell the lady getting sprung. You tell her she’s pretty.”

“You’re pretty.”

Margarita, the head nurse poked her head in. “Yes, lovey, you’re pretty.”

It was true—even bruised and swollen, Samantha’s delicate features inspired a take-care-of-me vibe that every person who popped in and out of the room seemed to feel. Each nurse smiled, touched her somewhere, wished her the best.

“That makes me feel better. That’s what a girl needs to heal.” Samantha said, tossing her hair. “Ow. Dang it. I can’t do that right now.”

“So don’t do it. Come on. Let’s blow this dump.”

In the hospital corridor, Grace put her arm around her sister’s shoulder. Samantha wrapped her arm around Grace’s waist. Together, they went home.

<>

Grace gave her sister an hour.

Then she went in her room. “So.”

Samantha sighed and flopped backward onto her pillow. “I hope you’re here to bring me more tea.”

She knew better than that. “Who is he?”

Sam raised her hands and let them flop onto her stomach. “Just a guy.”

“What’s his name?”

“Justin.”

“What does he do?”

“Why does that always matter so much to you?”

Grace sat on the edge of the bed, conscious that if she said the wrong thing now she could erase the careful trust that had built between them over the last year. “It matters because it says a lot about a person.”

“Fine. He doesn’t have a job, as it happens.”

Drug dealer. Pimp. Gambler.
It didn’t help that Grace had accidentally dated all those guys, too. “What does he want to do?”

“He’s an environmentalist.”

“Oh, yeah?”

Samantha sighed. “He has money from his parents. I guess, like, a lot of money.”

That would explain the car at least.

“He does something with cleaning water.”

“What?” Grace tried to keep the skepticism from her voice, but found it impossible. “So you’re dating a mob boss.”

“Jesus, Grace.”

“A mob boss wannabe?”

“Why can’t he just be a guy? A normal guy?”

“Where did you meet him?”

Her sister crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t have to tell you.”

Awesome. Had Samantha fallen off the wagon again? Was she at the bar while Grace was at work? “How’s your drinking doing?”

Samantha took in a loud breath. “You know what? You always ask me things like
that
. How’s my drinking? How’s my using? Why not ask the more accurate question. How’s my sobriety going? Today?”

“Your defensiveness makes me worry that I’m going in the right direction.”

Samantha stood, wincing as she did so. “I’m getting out of here.”

“Where are you going?” Grace watched as Samantha shoved clothes into a duffel bag. “You can’t just go.”

Samantha didn’t say anything. She just moved into the bathroom and began collecting her toiletries into a plastic case.

“Come on. Talk to me. I’m only concerned about your well-being.”

Pausing, a bottle of eye-makeup remover in her hand, Samantha turned to face Grace. “I don’t think you are.”

Pain knifed through Grace. “Of course I am. I’m never anything
but
concerned about you.”

“That’s the whole problem. Your concern isn’t flattering.”

“But …”

“I’m not a junkie.”

“You—”

“I had a problem with drugs. I was an addict. But I’m not anymore. I’m clean. I’m sober. I’m healthy.”

“But this guy—”

“Is none of your business, Grace.”

It felt like a sucker punch. How many times had Grace heard this from her sister? How many times had Samantha said she was fine, only to call a month later from a bus stop in an inland state, needing fare money home? And then never arriving?

“You have to tell me at least something. What his last name is. Where he lives. Where you’re
going
.”

“I have a place to stay.” Samantha threw an eyelash curler into the bag.

“With him? Isn’t he still in the hospital?” Grace had tried to check on him in the hospital but the nurses hadn’t let her go inside the ICU. No one but family.

“Gracie,” Sam said in a soft voice. “You should call that guy.”

“Who?” Grace tried to keep her face blank.

“Please. I know why you were late this morning to get me. It was obvious. Call Tox and have a good time.”

“No.
You’re
the most important thing in my life.” It was true. It would always be true.

Samantha said, “But you have to let me make my own mistakes.”

Not when you’ve already made so many.
“Are you in love with him?” She followed Samantha through the living room and out to the porch.

“Of course I’m not. I just met the guy. But I know where his key is, and he’d already asked me to stay. I talked to him in the hospital and he said I could crash at his place.”

Grace threw her hands in the air. “Why not? You already crashed with him once.”

“Oh,
come
on, Grace.”

“You can’t do this. You’re better than this.”

“I know,” said Samantha. “You did an amazing job of teaching me that, okay? But I can’t handle you anymore.”

“What do you mean?” Grace would agree to anything at all, if Samantha would just stay here, where she could keep an eye on her. Where she could check on her at night. Make sure she was fed. Safe. Healthy. “I’ll back off. I know I can be pushy.”

“Pushy?” Samantha dropped the bag at her feet and faced her, hands on her hips. “If I make hot chocolate at night, you get up to check whether I’m doing it right.”

“The two-percent is just better for you.”

“I like whole. Just like sometimes I stay up too late and I’m tired the next day. Sometimes I eat the whole pint of ice cream.
In one sitting.
”

Grace flinched.

“My body, my rules. How many times have you told me that? I get to make my own decisions, that no man can make them for me?”

“No man can,” said Grace, reached out a hand. “Don’t let him.”

“I won’t. And I’m not going to let you either. It’s my life. Not yours.
Mine
. You know I love you, Grace, but you need to take care of yourself. And no one else.”

Samantha went down the steps, turned right, and set off on foot down Taylor Street, toward the water. Grace sank with a thump to the top step of the porch.

It was a perfectly valid argument.

That was the hardest part. Her sister was right.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Methyl was terrorizing Station One.

Even though Tox thought he hadn’t let her out of his sight since he’d arrived to work that morning, she’d already managed to chew up Bonnie Maddern’s right boot, Mazanti’s A’s baseball hat, and a full pack of paper plates, leaving nothing but slobber and rubble. Every time he blinked, every time he thought about waking with Grace yesterday morning, in her warm bed … every unfocused moment was a moment Methyl ate something ill-advised.

Warm smells of garlic bread wafted from the kitchen where Knowland was fixing up his famous blue cheese spaghetti plates. On the big screen, the baseball game was only important to Hank.

“I thought you said she was sickly,” said Bonnie, holding up her boot. “You gonna pay for this?”

“What? The station dog doesn’t get a free pass or two?”

“The
station
dog?” Chief Barger came into the day room carrying a destroyed iPod charger. “When did we get one of those?”

Tox looked sideways at Bonnie who wasn’t hiding her laughter. “Just for A shift, when I’m here. And I have an extra one of those cords in my locker. I’ll give it to you.”

“You better. And you better check with HR about having a canine in the house.”

Bonnie pulled the broken, wet lace out of her boot. “You realize that if he checks with HR he’s dealing with my sister Lucy, right? And that she has twelve dogs and fourteen cats?”

Barger’s spindly eyebrows shot straight up. “Darling Bay has a limit of four of each.”

“Then sic June in Code Compliance on her, but seeing as they’re tennis partners, I don’t think you’re going to get much traction there. Lucy’s been trying to get us to adopt a station dog for two years. The only thing she’ll say no to is us finding our own.”

Methyl chose that moment to race into the day room, make one fast lap around the long table, and then sit comfortably on Chief Barger’s foot.