Page 15 of Steamy Dreamy Hearts

A while later, we stopped for gas. Caleb went inside the convenience store with me, loading up on snacks as I paid for the gas.

“Want a drink or anything?” I offered, moving toward the juice section.

“A Sprite, please.”

Nodding, I grabbed Caleb’s soda and an iced tea for myself. Caleb carried his bag full of snacks as we headed back to the truck. I glanced over at the overflowing plastic bag. “Did you leave any candy inside the store?”

“Nope, all for me. I skipped breakfast.” He grinned before putting a licorice stick between his lips. I had to look away before my thoughts ran away with me again.

“We can get more food? A turkey wrap? Or a burger?” I asked.

“This is good.”

We piled into the truck and got on the road once more. I tried to ignore Caleb’s scent, like oranges and sunshine.

“You really should have protein.”

God, why was my stupid mouth running? He was a grown man. If we weren’t fighting fires yet, it wasn’t my business.

Caleb raised his eyebrows as if he agreed with my silent assessment. “Thanks, but I never eat much before noon. Besides, I love sugar. Maybe that’s why Halloween is my all-time favorite holiday. I love the candy and the costumes, always have. And I already have the mask.” He jerked a thumb toward his face.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Make those jokes where you put yourself down.”

“Humor helps.” Caleb shrugged.

His scars and burns were cruel in the light, the mottled skin and patches of scars a telling map of Caleb’s pain. I didn’t see it as destroyed flesh, marring his incredibly handsome face down the middle. But I doubted Caleb would agree—it was how he saw himself. That Beauty and Beast nonsense. My heart sank. He wouldn’t believe me if I even had the courage to tell him.

I swallowed the sadness in my throat like a brick. “Why make such hurtful jokes about yourself?”

Caleb sighed. “’Cause if I don’t laugh at it, I’d let the depression take over. Especially during my rehab, I used gallows humor to get through it.” He drummed his fingers on the dashboard. “It’s a habit now.”

Depression?My brain zeroed in on the word. I hated to think of sunny and sweet Caleb depressed. But his recovery had been traumatic, the scars left on his face and neck visible proof of that. Somehow, though, I sensed he meant beyond the accident.

I was quiet for a long moment. “It seems like you’ve had reasons to be down. And habits are difficult to break. Like…I have a habit of saying no to things involving Erin. It takes me a few tries before I can be objective and say yes. And not jump to worry.” I paused. “We all want to avoid hurt or hurting other people we care about.”

“Yeah,” Caleb agreed.

I smiled at him. “I’ve always admired your strength. After the accident, when you applied for transfer to our firehouse, I wanted you with us.”

“Really?” Caleb leaned closer.

“Honest to God.”

“That helps. Thanks for telling me.” Caleb rubbed his face, the side without scars.

“Welcome.” I cleared my throat. “Does the depression get bad?”

“Sometimes. It’s more this feeling in my body. A tension that won’t release. I manage…” He trailed off.

“You can tell me more. And I promise to just listen without judgment.”

“I know you wouldn’t judge me.” Caleb bit his lip. “You’re always stern but fair. I’m just…trying to move forward.” After an awkward minute, Caleb sucked in a big breath. “And since we’re being honest with each other over things…I’ve always wanted to tell you that since day we met and you didn’t treat me like I was a pathetic victim or a lost cause, it really fucking helped me.” He stared at me. “So much.”

“Me?” I startled.

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