Page 99 of Living with Fire

I bark out a surprised laugh. “No.” I sigh, reaching my hand out to run my fingers over hers as I gaze at the cast she’s in. “She’d probably give me shit if she knew the things I was thinking.”

Then she’d make me forget all about it.

“Then maybe you should give her what she wants without her having to tell you,” he suggests.

I wave a finger at him. “You’re a wise man, Mr. James. A very wise man.”

He smiles in acknowledgement, and we lapse into another silence.

Brody, to my surprise, is the first one to break it. “What do you want to do about the auction?”

I curse under my breath, scrubbing my free hand over my face. The auction is the lowest thing on my priority list right now. It shouldn’t be, because the bar is screwed without the money that will potentially come from it, but I don’t know if I can deal with it. Don’t know if my heart has the strength. The auction was Savanna’s baby. Sure, she asked for my approval on this or that while she planned, but she was the one with all the knowledge of it.

My answer might be different if I could just see her eyes, but in the dreary hospital room with the machines beeping, the cords strung all over, and the distant sound of voices down the hall, I tell him, “Cancel it.”

While I hated that it was Brody with his perceptive eyes, keen sense, and wise words, I’m grateful it’s him now, rather than Liam. The latter would have fought me on it, but Brody just nods his acquiescence and lets me be.

I know he’s letting me soak it all in, to stew in his words about guilt and the auction, but my thoughts drift from what happened today to what Brody’s gone through, and after a few minutes I say, “It wasn’t your fault man. No matter what you might think, it wasn’t your fault.”

Rather than agree with me, he just gives me a smile, this time a placating one. I know he doesn’t believe me. “Thanks man. Appreciate that.”

The next day, I stay away as long as I can, but I can’t be away from her any longer. With a coffee in hand, I’m headed back to Savanna’s room after leaving her bedside when her family got into town.

It was awkward at best to begin with, them not knowing me, me not knowing them. I could tell they were a little hesitant about me, and who could blame them, with everything she’d been through. They all but threw me out within the first half hour they’d been there, telling me to go home and get some sleep since I’d been at her side since she’d gotten out of surgery the day before.

Out of respect, I conceded without much of a fight. It wasn’t that I wanted to leave her, but I know they needed some time to be with her after all this time, and after everything that had happened.

Jordan and Bryn had brought my truck up to the hospital in San Jose the night before, along with some dinner, so I made the trek back to my place in Santa Rosé where I slept for a couple of hours. I did more tossing and turning than sleeping, though. I laid there for ages, thinking about how cold the bed was without Savanna beside me, lonely without her pressing against my chest, and devoid of any laughter and happiness without her smiling face.

I think under normal circumstances, being without her would have been tolerable, but given what we’d gone through the last thirty-six hours, and few weeks as a whole, it was my own personal hell. I don’t want to live without this woman. Today, tomorrow, the rest of my life.

I half wish she was in the hospital in Santa Rosé. At least then I’d know people who I could hang out with, sort of, without being in Savanna’s room. Close enough I could check in every once in a while and still give her family the space they needed.

Then again, she wouldn’t have gotten the same treatment in Santa Rosé as she got in a trauma center in the big city. I’m grateful for that treatment. Grateful to the surgeons that put her back together, and the nurses taking care of her. I’m grateful to my family and friends who have reached out with an outpouring of love and support, offering to bring me food, help with the bar, and look after anything that either of us might need.

I’ve always known I have an amazing circle around me, a second family within the firehouse, but the last day and a half of my life have really shown me how special everyone is, and how lucky I truly am.

The great thing about the hours I keep at the bar, and at the firehouse, is that I won’t have a problem taking the night shift with Savanna. It’s not quite dinnertime, but now that I’m back at the hospital, I’m here to stay until at least the morning, hence the coffee in my hand.

I nod at the nurses as I walk by and then head into Savanna’s room, hoping to find the woman I love sitting up and laughing with her brothers and her father. Disappointment assails me when I see her still laying there, the tubes and wires still connected, the sound of the machines still monitoring her.

One brother sits in a chair at her side, head bowed as he looks at his phone that’s plugged into the wall. Connor.

Sensing my presence, he looks up, dirty blonde hair, a few shades darker than Savanna’s, tousled like he’s been running his hands through it all day. He gives me a nod when he recognizes me.

I nod back, taking the chair opposite him, on the other side of Savanna’s bed. “Any change?”

He shakes his head. “No. I would have let you know.”

I nod with appreciation. Connor swore he’d let me know if there were any changes in her condition, and I’m glad he mentions it now. Meeting the family with Savanna being out cold might have been awkward, but I like him. Out of the three of them, Connor seemed the most welcoming of me.

“You the only one around?” I ask.

“Yeah. Dev took Dad back to the hotel for a bit. This has all been a lot for him.” Setting his phone down on the arm of his chair, he regards me thoughtfully. “It’s been a lot for all of us. Especially her. I’m glad she had you looking out for her.”

I wave my hand, brushing off the comment. My eyes drop to where her arm with the fractured collarbone and dislocated shoulder is in a sling, the other in a cast. “Nothing to be glad for when she still ended up like this.”

I can feel Connor’s eyes burning a hole into me, but I don’t give in to the need to look at him. I don’t need to see the reprehensible look in his eyes. Or maybe worse—pity.