Page 97 of My Grumpy Fire Chief Next Door
“Say that again,” I snap, stepping in close. The heat on my neck spikes hands flexing at my sides.
“You want to run your mouth, do it to someone who gives a damn.”
“Alright, alright, back the hell off.” Maggie’s voice cuts in, low and even, stepping between us before it gets worse.
My fists clench, pulse hammering in my ears. I stare at Liam like it’ll force down this heat crawling up my neck.
I shove past them both and storm back inside the station, hearing Maggie mutter behind me, “He’s losing it.”
Iamlosing it.
I stomp down past the break room, shoulder open the bathroom door, and slam it behind me. The echo of the door against the frame is too loud in the silence. I brace my hands on the sink and force myself to look up.
Fuck.
The man staring back is unrecognizable. My beard is overgrown, my eyes sunken and red-rimmed like I haven’t slept in days, which I haven’t. My T-shirt’s wrinkled under my turnout coat, collar crooked, face drawn tight.
I look like someone who’s been hit by a truck and is still bleeding on the side of the road. And the worst part? I don't even care.
The door creaks open behind me, and I can barely hold back from snapping at whoever it is.
“You gonna punch a mirror next?” Maggie’s voice floats in, casual but lined with steel.
I don’t move, nor do I turn to face her.
“You want the truth?” she asks, stepping in behind me. “You look like hell.”
“Gee, thanks,” I mutter and turn on the faucet with a jerky movement.
“You’ve been walking around here like a wounded animal, biting anyone who gets too close. Ezra says you didn’t show up for post-call beers. Liam says you’re acting like he burned your house down.”
I snort, but there’s no humor in it. “Maybe he did.”
“Noah.” Her voice softens, but only slightly. “You’re not mad at Liam. Or Ezra. Or the crew.”
I say nothing as I stare at the running water.
“You’re mad at yourself. And her.”
My shoulders go stiff.
“For what, though?” she asks, stepping closer, arms crossed. “For not telling you who she is? Or because you’re scared of what it means?”
I clench my jaw. I don’t want to hear this. I don’t want to admit she’s right.
She lets out a breath, almost a laugh. “Everyone knows, and you would know that if you haven’t been hiding away all these weeks.”
She eyes me, “You think we missed the way Sinclair rolled into town? Or how he stormed through town looking for his daughter and trying to pay everyone? The fact that Kate has been hiding away wasn’t missed either. Small towns talk.”
“Then why….”
“Why didn’t anyone say anything?” she finishes for me. “Because it didn’t matter.”
Her eyes find mine, sharp with certainty. “I know Kate probably thinks everyone is mad at her or something, but most of us don’t think it’s a big deal.
Except for me, of course. A small voice mocks in my head.
“She’s still the same woman who helped out with the fundraiser. The one who brings snacks to every practice. The one who looks at you like you’re more than the man who’s been grieving for 20 years.”
