Page 95 of Combust (Everyday Heroes 2)
Because I know that isn’t a possibility. He’s made that more than clear.
“Wait up!” I shake my head and scramble after him, not wanting to get too far behind because that means I’ll just have that much farther to walk in an accelerated speed.
“You have quite the imagination,” Grady says when I catch up to him.
“It’s an occupational hazard to make up stories.”
“Well, lucky for you, Grant’s a detective so if I did have some elaborate plan to off you, I’m sure he’d sniff out my lies and throw the book at me.”
“So you aren’t going to off me then?” I pant, needing the levity and our reflexive banter to prevent me from overthinking what Grady said moments ago.
“Nah. I’ll at least let you enjoy the view first.” He chuckles as I step beside him. My breath catches at the sight before us. The valley is laid out in greens, and the hillside is an array of row after row of lush vines. It’s mesmerizing and utterly peaceful all at the same time.
“Oh, wow.”
“Exactly,” he murmurs.
“I feel like we’re on top of the world.”
“Not hardly, but it’s close.”
I take in the scenery as Grady removes his backpack and takes a seat on a large, pancake-shaped rock. When I look back at him, I’m startled to see him with a bottle of wine in one hand and a paper cup extended to me in his other.
“We have reached the wine portion of our program.”
“Are you serious?” I laugh.
“Deadly.”
“I knew I lov—“ I loved you. My mind staggers over why the words falter. Normally, I’d say them because wine equals love and the person who provides it deserves my adoration, and yet for some reason, my saying the words to him seems like they will mean so much more. Either that or I want it to mean more. But Grady’s sitting there, looking at me and probably wondering why I stopped midsentence, so I scramble to think of something to say. “I knew you’d reward me.”
“Pain and suffering deserves some pleasure.” A coy smile plays at the corner of his lips as he leans back on his hand and watches me.
I take a sip and meet his gaze over the lip of the cup. “So . .
. you aren’t trying to off me. You’re not trying to get me drunk and push me off the edge of the cliff to shut up my complaining . . . then what exactly are you trying to do here, Grady?”
“Who says there has to be an ulterior motive besides needing fresh air?”
“You’re a guy. Aren’t ulterior motives part of your MO?”
“Ouch.” He fakes a dagger to the heart and then grins as he takes a drink of his own wine. Then sighs. “Sometimes I just need to clear my head. This is where I come to do that.”
“The accident last night?”
“Mostly.” He nods, his voice softening. “It’s been a long week. The photo shoot. Some shit at the station. Drew . . . but mostly last night.”
And it always comes back to Drew. Full circle every time. Every trigger, every emotion is rooted in that one event for him.
I take a seat beside him but keep my eyes on the Northern California valley below. “Want to talk about it?”
Grady stares at the view and doesn’t answer.
“It has to be hard. I often wondered how a first responder deals with the emotions and fallout of the things they see on a daily basis.”
“Some days are easier than others. Some like last night, not so much. The upside for me is that I have my brothers to talk to about it. They see it all too, and they understand. And then there’s my dad. I have a support network most others don’t have, so I’m lucky. But I’m not going to lie and say it doesn’t stick with me. The sights. The smells. It makes me react to things in my everyday life a little differently.”
“Like how?” I ask, wanting him to maybe see the contradiction in his words and his actions since his accident.
