Page 31 of My Grumpy Fire Chief Next Door
But I don’t say any of that.
I can’t.
“Can we drop this conversation? I don’t make a habit of talking about my private life.” My voice comes out harsher than I intended.
“Your private life hasn’t existed since Josie,” Knox counters gently. “We’re not asking to interrogate you, man. We’re just…surprised. And curious.”
Emily grins. “And a little impressed.”
I exhale, jaw tight. “It wasn’t like that.”
Knox lifts an eyebrow. “No?”
“No,” I lie.
I eye the front door, my eyes catching on the faint mark her feet made from dashing through the storm. The curve of her bare leg flashing before the door closed behind her. My shirt hanging too loose on her frame. Her hair still tangled from sleep.
So, I lift my shoulders like none of it matters and mutter, “She just moved in, she doesn’t need me poking around in her business.”
Emily nods, slicing into the pie again, her eyes flicking to mine with quiet understanding.
“She didn’t seem to mind this morning,” she says softly. “She seems… accommodating and alive.”
Yeah. That’s what it felt like.
Being with Kate didn’t just feel good. It felt alive. It felt like color seeping into places I’d kept gray on purpose. It felt safe and accommodating.
And that terrifies me.
Because it means I feel something for her; feelings mean cracks. And cracks mean loss. And I’ve already watched what happens when something I love slips through.
Emily wraps the remaining pie back up and slides it toward me like an offering. “You can pretend it was just a night, Noah. You can try to play it cool. But she’s not just passing through, and you know it.”
“She has her business; she’s definitely not searching for a relationship,” I say too quickly.
Knox raises an eyebrow. “Did she say that?”
My lips press into a thin line. No, she didn’t. She didn’t need to spell things out; the way she stopped me spoke volumes, and that’s the problem because it grates on me.
They don’t push any further. They don’t have to. They’ve already said enough. Emily lifts Maddox, kisses his cheek, and walks toward the door. Knox follows, still watching me like he’s waiting for something I’m not ready to give.
The door creaks open. Before she leaves, Emily pauses in the doorway. “I’m really happy for you, Noah. I’ll stop by and give her some pie.”
The door clicks shut, and then it’s just me.
Me and the pie. The scent of warm apples and sugar pulls at something buried deep, something soft I’ve tried not to touch in years. Something that feels like home.
I stare at the note Emily taped to the top. “Don’t say I never spoil you. – E.”
I smile, but I don’t really feel happy.
She slept right there on the couch last night, and her son in my guest room.
I watched them.
Something in me shifted.
And I don’t know what the hell to do with that.
