Page 98 of Combust (Everyday Heroes 2)
“What are you talking about?”
There is a mischievous smile on her lips as she reaches into her monster-sized purse. “Did I mention to you one of my clients is Marcy Holden?” That gets my attention. “I stopped by her studio to book some pregnancy photos—that I’m sure Grant will bitch about having to take with me—and she happened to get her first shipment of these in. She thought that since I’m Grady’s sister-in-law and everything that I might swing some by the station. So I did. But not before I grabbed an extra to bring to you.”
She pulls the calendar out of her purse, and for some reason I’m hesitant to look at it. I’m nervous for Grady and how his photo turned out, considering how anxious he was.
“Have you looked at it?” I ask and then feel stupid when I see it wrapped in plastic.
“I figured I’d let you do the honors.”
I glance at her as I take it from her hands and slowly peel the wrapping off. The front cover is a picture of all twelve guys with their turnouts on, their jackets unfastened to reveal their shirtless chests underneath. If I may say so, the Sunnyville Fire Department has some hot firefighters. Grady’s smile is wide in the photo, and it’s more than obvious they were all laughing about something.
When I flip to the first page, both of our breaths hitch. It’s a picture of Brody in his dad’s gear. The uniform almost swallows him whole, but it’s the smile on his face and tears welling in his eyes that grabs my heart and doesn’t let go. And beneath his photo is a thank-you note for supporting the fireman’s widow fund.
Talk about a knife to the chest.
I lift the first page to January and laugh when I’m met with Bowie and his cheesy grin. He’s attractive in his own right, but I can’t get past picturing the silly antics of his. Dixon’s up next, and I’m impressed with how much the camera likes him. Emerson and I go through each month, making small comments here and there, but it’s when I hit August that the gasp falls from both of our mouths.
My first thought is Grady’s going to lose his mind.
My second thought is oh my God, that’s the Grady I know.
The image is in black and white. It isn’t of Grady in his turnouts, flexing his muscles. It isn’t him looking serious (and uncomfortably stiff) back at the camera. It’s of Grady looking back over his shoulder when the shoot was complete, relief in his eyes, and a genuine smile on that handsome face of his.
It was when he was looking at me.
Marcy captured the moment perfectly. The authenticity of it. The emotion in Grady’s eyes, and the pleasure in his smile.
And his burns.
They are part of the picture—like they’re a part of him. Probably the only part of the picture he’ll notice, but deep down, I know no one else will see them because they’ll be too busy falling in love with Grady Malone.
Just as I have.
I inhale an unsteady breath as the reality of the thought hits me like a sucker punch to the solar plexus.
“Holy shit.” It’s Emerson who speaks. The words are drawn out and full of unexpected awe.
“That about sums it up.” I laugh nervously.
“Don’t tell Grant I said it, but his little brother is seriously hot.”
My laugh turns more genuine as my hands clutching the calendar relax some, but my eyes never leave the photo. “I won’t.”
“This picture . . . it’s everything.”
“It is,” I murmur.
“He’s going to hate it,” she says.
I love it. “I know.”
“It shows his burns, but no one is going to notice them because they are going to be staring at—”
“The look in his eyes,” I finish for her. We both fall silent for a moment as we take in the picture again. The dark contrast of his burns against the lighter parts of his skin. How they seem so muted when compared to the look on his face. In his eyes. The smile on his lips that lights his face.
“I’d love to know what he was looking at,” she says.
Me.
