Page 17 of Give Me a Reason

“This is why the two of you can’t have nice things.” Tanner shook his head from across the table, a few seats down. The senior firefighter reminded Anne of a rugged cowboy with his sun-bleached blond hair and deeply tanned skin. Or it could be the Southern twang of his accent. “All right, rookies. Round up the empty plates and start loading the dishwasher.”

Anne’s eyes drifted to Frederick, who sat one seat over from Tanner. Her ex looked irritatingly handsome and virile, all forBethany’s viewing pleasure.Stop it, Anne.She had no idea she could be so catty, and it was quite alarming.

“But we haven’t had dessert yet,” Nick protested.

“Speaking of dessert. Who wants pie?” Pete pushed away from the dining table and walked over to the island at the other side of the spacious kitchen, where half a dozen pies sat in gluttonous glory. “Other than the rookies.”

Sandy threw her napkin on the table and got to her feet, glaring at her fellow rookie. “This is all your fault.”

“If you get the dishes loaded quickly enough, there might be some pie left for you,” Michelle said, her expression stern but kind. Even with dark cropped hair and a broad, muscular build, the driver operator exuded a maternal air that made you feel safe. She clapped her hands twice. “Let’s go, rookies.”

“Not you, too, Michelle.” Nick shook his head sadly even as he reached for Anne’s plate.

“Oh, I can’t let you do that.” Anne hurriedly rose from her chair. “I’m happy to help.”

At the sound of an exasperated scoff, her eyes flew to the other end of the table. The sunny smile he wore for Bethany was nowhere in sight as Frederick glared at her, a muscle ticking in his jaw. What was his problem? Anne glared right back, embracing her own flash of temper. It felt uncomplicated and liberating, and if she was being honest, more than a little hot.

“B Shift doesn’t make a habit of making our guests do the dishes,” Frederick said to the rookies. “Do we now?”

Her gaze shot toward Sandy and Nick. They stood ramrod straight at the cold steel in their captain’s voice, exchanging an uneasy glance. She didn’t mean to get them in trouble. Frederick obviously had a problem with her. He shouldn’t take it out on the poor rookies. How dare he bully his own team members. She spun on him, daggers shooting out of her eyes.

“If you have something to say—” she began, seething with frustration and anger.

“Anne, we’re not really giving the rookies a hard time,” Pete cut in before she could give Frederick a piece of her mind. His chuckle sounded a bit forced. “We take turns with the cooking and the cleanup. It just happens to be Nick and Sandy’s turn.”

“I…” She stood irresolutely with her plate in her hands, her indignation fizzling out. But there were so many dishes. She still wanted to help out.

“Why don’t you leave the dishes to the rookies and come help us with the pie, Anne?” Katie joined her husband at the kitchen island without waiting for an answer.

Left with no choice, Anne handed her plate to Nick with a rueful smile and made her way to the island. She and Katie hadn’t spoken other than a quick introduction, but Anne was honestly a little afraid of her. The woman seemed to have it out for her. But what reason could Katie have to dislike her? Pete said the two of them were fans of her work.

Unless… Was Katie angry about the ending ofOne Hundred Days? A lot of people were upset with the ambiguous, up-to-your-imagination ending. The poor writer received a funeral wreath delivered to the station for that one. But that show aired two years ago.

Anne shook her head and found an extra knife to cut the pies with. She glanced over to the dining table to check on the rookies’ progress, but everyone was chipping in to clear the table, so no one would be missing out on the pies. With a smile, she sliced down the middle of a pumpkin pie, digging deep to cut through the crust.

“Pete, can you grab the blueberry cheesecake pie from the car?” Katie cut into an apple pie with deadly precision. “I forgot to bring it in.”

“I think we have plenty of pie, honey,” he said in a low, pleading voice.

“There is no such thing as plenty of pie.” Katie leveled a glower at her husband.

“Okay,” Pete acquiesced with pained reluctance. He gave Anne a mildly terrified look before attempting an encouraging smile. “I’ll be right back.”

Katie returned to slicing pie without another word, so Anne followed suit. She finished cutting the pumpkin pie and moved on to the pecan pie. It was so dense and sticky. Her teeth ached imagining the sweetness.

“We’re not going to stand by and watch you break his heart again.” Katie suddenly broke the silence.

Anne barely felt the knife slice into her thumb as mortification, anger, and relief erupted inside her. She understood the anger and mortification. A complete stranger had dredged up Anne’s painfullest memory—her greatest regret. But the relief? The relief was for Frederick. He hadn’t been alone in his heartbreak. He had friends like Katie by his side, willing to stand up for him.Thank God for that.

But when dark blood dripped onto the counter, Anne gasped and stumbled back, the knife clattering to the floor.

“Oh my God,” Katie cried. “Anne—”

Frederick was by her side before Katie could finish her sentence. He snatched a white towel out of nowhere and wrapped it around Anne’s hand, applying pressure to her cut. He shot Katie a look of such fury that the woman blanched and took a step back.

“It was my fault. I got distracted, and my knife slipped,” Anne rushed to explain. “You know how clumsy I can get.”

Frederick’s eyes turned slowly toward her, emotion rippling across his face. Only then did she realize what she’d said. Why did she have to say that? Reminding him of what they used to have. Reminding him of what they’d lost… because of her.

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