Melt For Him(65)

She wasn’t sure how, but she was going to figure it out.

There was a knock on the door. For a brief moment, her heart beat in double time, thinking it was Becker. But then the knock played in the rhythm of “Shave and a Haircut.” It was Travis.

“I invited him for dinner,” her mom said.

“I’ll let him in,” Megan said, as she left the kitchen and headed to the front door.

Travis stood in the doorway, brandishing a note. “I saw this on your bike. And I think I know who it’s from.”





Chapter Twenty-One

With shaky fingers, she began unfolding the paper. She didn’t have to recognize the handwriting on the front to know who it was from. She knew. Her heart lodged itself in her throat as she opened the note.

Megan,

I thought you’d be gone by now. But you’re still here, and I want to believe that’s good. Only you can tell me where we go from here. Because here’s the thing—I’m in love with you too.

Becker

She looked up at her brother and her mom. Her hands were trembling, and she was sure they could read her every emotion that was ping-ponging through her body as fear turned to hope.

“Well?” her mom asked.

“It seems I’m in love with someone who’s in love with me too.”

She waited for Travis to curse or cringe, to tell her she was foolish. But he didn’t. Instead, he wrapped an arm around her and squeezed her shoulder. “What are we going to do about that, Megan?”

Surprise took over her features. “You never call me Megan.”

“I know. But I need to start, since that’s what you prefer. And if you two fools are in love, far be it from me to stop it. Let’s figure this shit out.”

“Travis,” their mom chided. “Watch your mouth.”

“Sorry, Mom.”

“Now, come inside, sit down, have some dinner, and let’s come up with a plan.”

“Yes, Mom,” she and Travis said in unison, and there was something darn near perfect about this moment—the roles in her family were as they should be. Her brother was her brother, her mother was her mother, and she was her own woman. They were going to help her figure out what to do next. They’d been fractured years before, but now they were a family working together.

…

He tried to pretend he wasn’t counting the hours since he’d left that note. But he was no good at that kind of lie. It had been thirteen hours and twenty-two minutes with no word from her. Granted, he’d managed a dreamless sleep for most of that time, and his body had needed it after fighting that fire wrung him dry. Ironic, that he always slept the best when he’d been battling a massive fire. Now, he and Smith were finishing up a talk at the local elementary school on fire safety.

“What are the three words you’re going to remember after today?” Smith asked the group of first graders, and Becker had to hand it to the guy. He could work a room like nobody’s business. He had the local six-year-olds eating out of the palms of his hands. Enrapt.

“Stop, drop, and roll,” the kids shouted in unison, and Smith gave them a rousing applause. “Now, who wants to see a fire truck?”

His friend led the group from the small classroom and to the truck stationed outside the elementary school. The kids happily scampered around the engine, with Becker and Smith showing them how everything worked, even plunking down plastic helmets on their heads if they wanted to pretend they were firemen too. Most of the boys did. That was normal; this was a job that a lot of kids said they wanted to grow up and do. But for the first time, there was a low voice in Becker’s head that wanted him to warn the kids to find another job.

Okay, so no one was signing up for duty at the ripe old age of six, but he almost wanted to tell them there’s a flip side to the job. That it can mean you’re man against the world. That it can mean you can’t have other things. Can’t want them. Shouldn’t want them.

“Fuck,” he muttered as he pushed a hand through his dark hair as soon as the demonstration was over, and the first graders had started to march back into their school. But a lone straggler overheard him and looked up.

Ah, hell.

“You okay, sir?” the little kid asked. The girl had sweet, wide eyes and rosy cheeks.

“Just fine. Just thinking about something. Why don’t you let me walk you back inside?”

The girl nodded, and then started chattering about the end of the school year, and how she was going to teach her family stop, drop, and roll. “I think everyone needs to know that. I’m glad you were here today, sir, as a community helper,” she said, repeating the words the teacher had used to introduce them.