Page 27 of Memories with Fire

When she doesn’t finish the rest of the sentence, I smile knowingly. “Carry her to her room?”

Debra cringes a little, but then nods. I have the sense that she doesn’t enjoy needing my help, and while she doesn’t want to ask me, she also doesn’t want to leave Hailey on the bathroom floor all night. Even in her disappointment.

“Of course,” I tell her.

We give it another five minutes, but when Hailey seems to pass out against me, we agree she’s probably spent for now, and I maneuver her until she’s back in my arms. It’s an easy walk to her bedroom, but not so easy to put her down, especially when she clings onto me when I try to stand upright.

“Iiiied,” she murmurs on a soft sigh, her words still slurring together. It’s a good thing I’ve learned to speak drunk during my years as a firefighter. Translation, she lied. Then she adds, “I donate you.”

Drunk talk for ‘I don’t hate you’.

I smile. A smile I feel deep down into my soul. The kind of smile I haven’t smiled in months. Real. Genuine. Happy. For the first time since well before I left Waco, I see some kind of light at the end of a long, dark tunnel.

“I donate you either,” I tell her, pushing her hair off her forehead to put the cool cloth there again.

Hailey giggles. It’s drunk, but it’s as happy as the feeling in my chest. “Good. I’m Sally. You’re Sal.”

It takes me a minute, but then I laugh. “The Salvation Army?”

More giggles from her, but then a content sigh falls from her lips, and she settles, mumbling, “Knew you’d know me.”

“Night Sally,” I murmur, and if it weren’t for her mom right behind me, watching like a hawk, I’d lean over and press another kiss to the top of her head. But I refrain this time, pulling in all my control.

She seems to sink deeper into the bed, and as I stand, she says, “Night Dimples.”

My heart stops, and I rub my chest, both a smile and a cringe warring on my face. Dimples. Dang. I haven’t heard that one since the day I left her at the airport. All summer that’s what she called me. She was Freckles, and I was Dimples, and we were happy.

Turning towards Debra, who is keenly watching me, I drop my hand and shove them both into my pockets. “Make sure she takes some aspirin in the morning. And her car is still at 10-42. Don’t go first thing in the morning.”

Debra’s eyebrows furrow. “Why not?”

“Because with the amount she drank tonight, who knows if she’ll still be drunk in the morning. Make sure she eats something and drinks some water before you let her drive,” I tell her, moving towards her and the door.

“Okay,” she nods her agreement, turning to lead me down the hall to the front entryway. I’m to the door when she says, “Thank you. For bringing her home and staying.”

And even though I don’t think Debra will believe me, because no one ever does, I say it out loud for my benefit, “Years and distance will never change my feelings for Hailey. If there is something that she needs, I will give it to her. No questions asked.”

Debra just gazes down the stairs at me, chewing on her bottom lip.

I nod to her, opening the door. “Night ma’am.”

CHAPTER 10

HAILEY

Humiliation and shamedon’t even begin to cover how I’m feeling as I walk through the gift shop at Tree Toppers, two days after the engagement party. Heading for the door that will take me out to the picnic area, and beyond, the obstacle course, I will my frayed nerves away.

Luke’s Jeep is in the parking lot, and he’s not inside, which means he has to be out there. I’m not really eager to come face to face with him after the other night.

The hangover the next day was the worst I’d had since my twenty-first birthday when friends took me out and got me plastered. After that one night, I said I’d never get that drunk again, and I’ve been perfect at keeping that goal.

Until Luke showed up, anyway.

I woke up the next morning thinking everything had been a dream. It was fuzzy, and I could only remember parts of it. The heat of his body. The strength of his arms that carried me even though, in the real world, I should have been too heavy. The intoxicating scent of his cologne—the one that hasn’t changed since the day we met.

It was that same scent that pulled me harder from my slumber because it was wrapped all around me, as thoughhewas wrapped around me. I’m surprised I didn’t break my neck with the speed at which I turned to look and make sure he wasn’t in bed with me. He wasn’t, and so I was certain my mind was playing tricks on me, ‘cause I swore I could smell him. His cedar scent. And citrus. Quinn was right that day when she pegged it.

It wasn’t until I got out of bed and looked down at what I was wearing that I realized it hadn’t been a dream at all. Which kicked my memory into gear, and more and more flashes of the night came back to me. In pieces, of course, because why would it all come at once?

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