Page 19 of Bonfire with Beckett
Hank shrugs. “So don’t kill it. Find another way.”
I glare at him. “You think I didn’t consider that? The conditions aren’t safe. It’s not about bending rules. It’s about keeping people alive.”
“I’m not saying break rules.” He tips his glass toward me. “I’m saying get creative.”
When I just stare at him blankly, he rolls his eyes. “You’ve been building safety workarounds your whole damn career. Figure out a different way to give her what she wants.”
I grunt. “Yeah, because when people think of romance, they think of county-issued fire rings and water tanks.”
Hank grins. “I don’t know, bro. You’ve got the broody thing going for you. Women eat that up.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.” His smirk fades, and his eyes sharpen. “You forget, I’ve known you my whole life, little brother. You’ve been carrying this shadow around since the day you came back. Like you decided you didn’t get to be happy. That you’d had your shot at it and lost.”
My gut clenches. I look away, but the words find their mark.
Hank doesn’t stop. “You did your service. You saw things most people will never understand. And you came home like you’d left the best parts of yourself behind. But that’s not how it works. You’re still here. You still get to want things. You still get to fall in love.”
I let out a harsh breath. “It’s not that simple.”
“Why not?”
I slam my glass down harder than I mean to. “Because guys like me don’t get happy endings. I’ve answered too many calls where people didn’t walk away. I came home too many times when someone else didn’t. You start believing maybe you weren’t meant to. That you were the one who shouldn’t have made it back.”
The words hang heavy between us. I rarely say them out loud. Hell, I barely let myself think them.
“I know what that’s like.” Hank leans in. “Just like I know you were supposed to come back. Each time. You’re my brother. You’re a man who’s saved more lives than anyone could count.Whether you want to admit it or not, you deserve more than a life of sulking in bars and pretending you don’t care.”
I stare at him, throat tight, wishing I could believe it as easily as he says it.
He softens. “And don’t look now, but you already fell for Willa. Don’t waste your chance at happiness because you think you don’t deserve it.”
I close my eyes. Her face flashes through my head. Her laugh, her stubbornness, the way she kissed me like she was giving me her whole heart.
“I have fallen for her,” I admit finally, the words rough as gravel. “Fuck me, I’m in love with Willa.”
Hank grins. “Then prove it.”
Before I can argue, he cuffs my shoulder and drains his pint. “I’ve got somewhere I need to be. But I know you’ll figure something out. You always do.”
He tosses cash on the bar and heads out, leaving me in the dim glow of neon beer signs and the low rumble of the football game.
I stare at the bottles along the back of the bar, but this time my mind isn’t blank. It’s filled with a whole new image.
A fireless bonfire. Not flames, but light. Heat without sparks. A way to keep the heart of Willa’s vision alive without risking the town.
It’s crazy. Maybe impossible.
But the longer I sit there, the more the pieces start slotting into place. Portable heaters. Strings of orange and red lights. A steel frame. Smoke machines.
A fireless bonfire. Safe, controlled. Something memorable that looks and feels like the real thing without catching a single ember on the wind.
I can almost see Willa’s face, lit up by it. That wonder. That joy.
For the first time since the weather alert came in, hope sparks low and steady in my chest.
I don’t know if I’ll ever believe I deserve happiness. But I know this: Willa deserves it.
