Page 90 of Chasing Smoke

Shit.

I concentrate on my plate.

The conversation moves on, and Russo tells us about the first time he ever made his shepherd’s pie when Caleb was on shift and how he ate Gonzalez’s portion right off his plate because he took too much time in the can. Everyone laughs.

“He talked about you, you know,” Russo says. “All the time.”

“It would drive us crazy,” Gonzalez says.

“It did not drive us crazy,” Ramsey clarifies.

“Ramsey liked it,” Fleming says.

He nods. “I liked it.”

Probably because Ramsey is married to his high school sweetheart. He is always on all of us single guys to settle down.

Collins’s gaze studies her plate. “Thanks.”

Russo breaks the tension by changing the subject. “Anyone want more?”

Plates are passed, and the conversation moves on. Gonzalez spills his drink at one point, and there’s a scramble for napkins. I use mine, and when it’s soaked, Collins pulls hers from beside her plate and passes it to me without thinking.

It’s the sort of thing a person does with someone they’re used to seeing every day, someone they’re comfortable with. It doesn’t land wrong for anyone but Fleming, whose eyes come to mine a second time.

He doesn’t say anything, just looks back down at his plate.

By the time we’re finished eating, Russo is telling a story about a call from three years ago, and Ramsey is arguing a detail with him. Gonzalez sides with Russo because he always does.

Collins stands and stacks plates.

“Sit down, you’re a guest,” Russo says.

“I’m helping.” She turns and takes the plates over to the counter.

I collect more plates and bring them over to set them on the ones Collins has just set down. She opens the dishwasher, and I pass them to her one at a time. Our hands brush more than a few times, and I swear Fleming’s gaze bores into my back.

When it’s time to wrap up, I tell the guys I’m going to walk her out. I walk Collins out of the firehouse and into the parking lot, over to her SUV. I didn’t bother with a coat before I came out and the cool spring air settles against my skin.

We’re standing between her vehicle and another, so I take her hands. I study her for a beat. “How are you doing after all that?”

“Better than I thought, honestly.”

This woman’s strength amazes me.

“It felt different than last year,” I say.

“I wasn’t here, but I’ll take your word for it. Even so, I feel different this year. I’m in a different place than I was then.” She pauses before continuing. “I think I’m going to go home and call Caleb’s parents. Feels like I should reach out today.”

I slide my thumb over her knuckles. “Have you decided yet whether you’re going to tell them about the baby?”

She shakes her head. “Not yet. I’ve been giving a lot of thought to our conversation with Fowler and how I’ve sometimes questioned whether it would be better had I never known. I realize it would be a little different for them, but I need more time to think it over.”

“You’ll know when you have your answer.”

Collins glances away for a beat before she meets my gaze again. “Then I’m going to write my letter to Caleb.”

I simply nod. An acknowledgment that it’s another step forward for her. Another item off the checklist that puts us closer to the finish line. “I don’t get off shift until tomorrow morning, but did you want to do something tomorrow night?”