Page 2 of The One Who Risked it All

She glanced up, catching my gaze for a brief moment, and it was like a jolt straight to my heart.

I wanted to go to her. To say… what? Sorry for letting my father’s stupid feud keep us apart? Sorry for pretending I didn’t care all these years?

Instead, I stayed rooted to the spot, caught between the disapproval in my father’s voice and the longing that threatened to overwhelm me. Some brave firefighter I was. I could run into burning buildings without hesitation, but I couldn’t face my own heart.

I plastered on my best charming grin and turned back toward the rest of the party. There was Mrs. Henderson, our elderly neighbor who’d always had a soft spot for me. “Well, don’t you look lovely today! That hat is absolutely fetching.”

And by fetching, I meant the mass of feathers and netting looked kind of like a dead bird dragged in by a hunting dog. But if she liked it, who cared?

Mrs. Henderson giggled like a schoolgirl, swatting my arm. “Oh, Eli, you flatterer! How’s that handsome fire chief treating you boys down at the station?”

I launched into a story about our latest drill, gesturing wildly and dropping in just enough innuendo to keep her entertained. But even as I played up the rakish firefighter act, my eyes kept drifting to Carla. She was laughing at something Rebecca said, her head thrown back, exposing the graceful line of her neck.

Heaven help me, I wanted to nuzzle that spot right where her pulse fluttered. I pushed away the entirely over-the-line thought. Why hadn’t the pull toward her faded after all these years?

I worked the crowd, moving from guest to guest with practiced ease. It was comfortable, this playboy persona I had worn for so long. Safe. But every time I caught a glimpse of Carla, it slipped just a little. The same way it had when we were in high school.

I was in the middle of regaling Jake’s grandmother with a highly-embellished tale of my firefighting heroics when I spotted Nathan and Rebecca off to the side. They weren’t doing anything scandalous – just talking quietly, heads bent close together. But the intimacy of it hit me like a sucker punch.

My brother reached up, tucking a stray strand of hair behind Rebecca’s ear. The tenderness in that simple gesture made my chest ache. Rebecca leaned into his touch, her eyes shining with a love so deep it was almost painful to witness.

I swallowed hard, suddenly aware of how hollow my own laughter sounded. Was that what I’d been missing? That connection, that…belonging?

For a moment, I let myself imagine what it would be like. To have someone look at me the way Rebecca looked at Nathan.To be able to reach out and touch Carla without worrying about family feuds or disappointed fathers or my own blasted insecurities. Or someone else.

It didn’t have to be Carla, obviously. That was why I had tried dating so many different girls. But somehow it never went anywhere, despite the rumors that swirled around town. I’d never so much as made it to the third date with any of the girls I’d taken out.

And as much as I hated to admit it, I was beginning to wonder if it was because none of them were her.

I glanced back toward Carla. The longing was so intense it stole my breath. I pulled myself back to the circle of listeners and jumped into the story my captain, Kyle Parker, was telling.

“…and then I said to the chief, ‘Well, if you wanted a hot date, you should’ve just asked!’” I finished with a wink, covering my momentary lapse with an extra dose of swagger.

But as the group around me erupted in laughter, all I could think was: When did playing the clown stop being enough?

I was saved from my brooding by a tug on my sleeve. I looked down to find my nephew Lincoln grinning up at me, gap-toothed and mischievous.

“Uncle Eli! Guess what?” He bounced on his toes, practically vibrating with excitement.

I crouched down to his level, matching his enthusiasm. “What’s up, little man? Did you finally master that backflip I’ve been teaching you?” Backflip was code for somersault for the five-year-old, but it sounded cooler.

Linc giggled, shaking his head. “Not yet! But I’m gonna stay with Mimi and Papa for two whole weeks!”

“Two whole weeks, huh?” I ruffled his hair, ignoring the twinge in my chest. His older brother, Alex, had shared the news with me earlier at the church, but I was still surprised. Two weeks with my father, the infamous Harold Wells? Poor kid.“That’s quite the adventure. You think Mimi and Papa can keep up with you?” Let’s just say, I had my doubts.

“Mimi’s gonna teach me how to make her apple pie for Thanksgiving, and Papa said I could help him get the garden ready for next year!” Linc’s eyes were wide with anticipation.

I forced a grin, pushing aside memories of my own childhood attempts at gardening with Dad. How nothing I ever did seemed to measure up. Not much had changed in that respect. “Sounds like you’ve got it all planned out, buddy. Just don’t eat so much pie you turn into one, okay?”

As Linc rambled on about his upcoming stay, my gaze drifted across the pavilion. It was like a homing missile, effortlessly finding her in the crowd every single time. Carla. The late-afternoon sun caught her hair. She was laughing at something one of the other guests said, and the sound carried over to me, light and musical.

Before I knew what I was doing, I was on my feet. “Hey, Linc, why don’t you go see if your mom needs help with anything? I’ve got to, uh... check on something.”

I made my way toward Carla, heart pounding. What was I doing? This was a terrible idea. But I couldn’t seem to stop myself.

“Hey there,” I said, aiming for casual and missing by a mile. “Having a good time?”

Carla turned, surprise flickering across her face before she schooled it into a polite smile. “Eli. Yes, it was a lovely ceremony.”

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