Page 51 of Single Mom's Firefighter SEALs
Buck’s face changes all the way then, leaving Kozlov back in the office. “Interview project,huh?”
T.J. nods and lifts the notebook. “We have to ask questions about a real job in town, and I picked firefighters because it’s cooler than the grocery store, and because you guys have actual equipment.”
“Solid reasoning.” Weston huffs out a laugh as Elena comes up behind T.J., a few strands of hair loose and brushing her cheeks and forehead. There’s an apologetic look on her face that doesn’t quite hide her smile.
“His words, not mine,” she says, her gaze flicking briefly to Buck, then Weston. “He’s been talking about this all week.”
T.J. looks up at me, open-faced, and I try not to see Tyler in his features. He’s a good kid. Too brave and too ready to trust us, which only adds to the ugly weight already sitting in my chest.
“You came prepared,” Buck says.
T.J. flips the notebook open to a page covered in careful printing. “I have eight questions. I need to think of two more before I’m done.”
Weston grins. “That looks official. Better make sure we give you good answers.”
T.J. beams, and I hate that all I feel is the weight in my chest getting heavier.
As Buck and Weston close in on T.J., Elena’s gaze flicks to mine, and her smile fades a little at the edges.
Buck sets an easy hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Come on, buddy. We’ll show you the engine. You can’t interview firefighters if you haven’t seen the cool stuff first.”
T.J. goes with them at once, and Weston throws Elena a nod as he passes. “We’ve got him.”
For a second, it’s just me and her near the open doorway, with T.J.’s excited voice carrying back from the bay.
She studies my face, and whatever she sees wipes the last of her smile away. “What happened?” she asks quietly.
I glance over at the guys, who are steering T.J. toward the back of the engine. “This isn’t the time,” I tell Elena.
Her eyes narrow at me. “Calder.”
“You’re here with T.J. I’m not dropping something heavy on you while you’re in mom mode and he’s ten feet away.”
She steps closer. So close, a faint, warm scent of vanilla comes with her. “You can’t say that and expect me to be patient. Was there another fire?”
“No.”
“Then what?” When I hesitate, irritation flashes across her face. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Look at me like that and then tell me it can wait.” Her voice stays low, but there’s steel under it. “If something’s happened, I need to know.”
“Elena—”
“Tell me what’s wrong, Calder.”
I draw a slow breath and glance over to see T.J. writing something in his notebook while Buck balances a Halligan bar across both palms. “Come intothe office.”
Elena follows me down the hall, and I end up taking her into the quiet room off the administrative hallway instead of Buck’s office. It’s a space meant for breaks and briefings, with a few chairs and an old couch. I close the door behind us.
She doesn’t sit, and I don’t ask her to.
I know what Elena was told about Tyler’s death, and I want to spare her from the truth, but sparing her and lying to her are nearly the same thing.
“There’s something we found,” I say. “About who might be behind the fires.”
Her face goes a shade paler. “Okay.”
