Stronger By Your Side (Great Love Book 2) (10 page)

He shrugged his shoulders. “Okay. I was just going to watch recaps at Dad’s anyway, so I might as well do it here.”

I shook my head and decided I didn’t feel like arguing. “Okay, but after I’m done, you leave.”

He put his hand in the air and scrunched his brows. “Scout’s honor.”

I snorted as I hopped out of his truck. “You were a lousy Boy Scout, Travis Farmer.”

He walked around the truck to me, pretending to look hurt. “Says who?”

I laughed as I opened Charlotte’s door. “Says Charles.” At the mention of his name, Travis’s face went sad.

He swallowed hard, then his lips pulled into a smile. “That asshole, I was a great Boy Scout!” I smiled with relief and rolled my eyes.

Travis carried Charlotte upstairs and gently tucked her into bed. I said her prayer and kissed her head. A minute later, I walked out to the living room, my bedroom, to find Travis with his feet up, already watching TV. I laughed.

“Alright, I’ll be downstairs.” He nodded and shooed me with his hand never taking his eyes off the TV.

About an hour later I was mopping the floors as I listened to Ed Sheeran’s latest song,
Kiss me
. My eyes lifted off the floor for a moment and then back down. I froze instantly, my heart panicking into a frenzy of beats. I quickly looked back up to see a man standing in the front doorway. A scream left my lips before I could recognize who it was. A dark shadow covered the man’s face. I grabbed the broomstick and held it tight like a weapon, praying that maybe Travis heard me and that I could be as badass with this broom as I felt—quite unlikely, but what the hell.

I couldn’t help the smile that pulled at my lips. My little warrior, with her long, black hair pulled sloppily on top of her head and her flushed, pink cheeks, holding the broomstick like it was a deadly weapon. I stepped forward slowly, hoping she would see my face before she attacked. I was wearing a baseball cap, which probably didn’t help my case, but instead of removing it I decided to take my chances.

“You going to broom me to death, Pumpkin?” At the sound of her childhood nickname, she stilled immediately and sighed as her shoulders slumped.

“Shit.” She whispered. I laughed, because it was adorable when she cursed. It sounded so wrong, like it didn’t belong coming from her. Suddenly, someone slowly began to creep from the shadows behind her.

My heart thudded in my chest and the hairs on the back of my neck rose. No way in hell was I going to let her get hurt. I glided quickly to her and pulled her, in one swift movement, behind me by her elbow. She grunted at the quick movement, but my eyes focused on what, or who, was in front of me. A man slowly stepped out of the shadows, not quite revealing his face, but I could see he had a knife. I could feel Megan squirming behind me to see, but my being almost a foot taller and much broader made it difficult.

The male voice spoke. “Let her go, asshole, or I swear to God I will kill you.”

I laughed. “You’re the one sneaking up behind her with a knife. Back off, or
I
swear to God,
I
will kill
you
.” I spit his words back at him.

Megan quickly jumped around me and I grabbed her arm. “Travis, it’s okay!” She said in a hurry, and then reached up and pulled my cap off.

I watched the man’s face pull into what looked like recognition, and then he slowly put the knife in the sheath. I narrowed my eyes in anticipation. Travis? Had I heard that name before?  Still on edge, I held Megan’s arm firmly. When Travis stepped out into the light of the moon, I let go of Megan, recognizing him from the bar.

He glared at me and wrapped his arms around her. “Damn it, Meg, You scared the shit out of me!”

She sighed. “I’m sorry. I thought I checked the front door, but that was supposed to be done at close . . . ” Megan looked up at me, and the fear in her eyes made me want to do exactly what Travis was currently doing. As if she sensed me being uncomfortable, she slowly nudged out of his arms. I had to fight the smile it brought me. “I’m fine, Trav.” Megan whispered.

Travis ran his hand down his face. “Fine.” Then he turned to me. “What are you doing here? You think scaring a girl shitless at night is appropriate?”

I shifted my feet and returned his glare. “I could ask you the same thing.” Travis reached for Megan’s hand, but she quickly picked up the broom from the floor to avoid it. That made me chuckle to myself.

Travis glared harder. “Is something funny, Jolly Green Giant?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “Nothing I can’t fix, Small Stack.” Travis was by no definition small. He was around at least 6 feet tall, which was tall by normal standards, but I was 6 feet 5 and was used to being called names.

Travis gritted his teeth together, and just before he was about to say something, Megan stepped in between us. “Okay. Travis, can you go check on Lotte?” He looked at her, and then up at me. “Trav, please.”

He shifted his feet. “Fine, but I’ll be back. Holler if you—”

Megan nodded. “Need you . . . always.” She smiled sweetly at him, and then once he was up the stairs, she glared at me. “What. The. Hell. SJ.”

I laughed. I hadn’t gone by SJ since Megan left, and it felt nice to hear her call me it again. “I just wanted a cup of coffee on my break, and I thought I’d check out the local coffee joint. Didn’t realize it would be closed. It’s Saturday night.”

Her eyes looked me up and down, taking in my work uniform. “SJ, first of all, it’s eleven o’clock. Second, you work in the next town over, thirteen miles away. So what are you doing here, and how did you know I would be here?”

I closed one eye and pursed my lips. She put her hands on her hips and glared at me. I put my hands up in defense. “Alright, you caught me.”

Megan shook her head and then pointed at me. “Explain, creep.”

I laughed and bent down to grab my Wheatland Fire Department ball cap that I was borrowing, and I placed it back on my head. She just stood glaring at me. I smiled coyly. “Fine. I’m covering a shift down the street at Wheatland Fire. They’re short-staffed, and we try and help out . . . ” After a brief pause, I shrugged. “Maybe I took the shift knowing you lived in town. Maybe I asked around the station about you, and maybe one of the guys knew you might be here.” I smiled my cheesy smile that used to always work on Megan as kids. Usually it was when I “accidently” ate her pudding cup—but hey, it was worth a try.

Megan shook her head and fought a smile. Guess it still worked. “You’re something else, SJ.”

I laughed again. “If you say so, Pumpkin.”

Megan’s face twisted a little, and then her eyebrows raised. I shrugged and smiled wider. That seemed to do the trick, because I could feel her walls go down. She smiled back, and the image shot a desire through me, one that I hadn’t felt strike so deeply in eight years. A desire to claim her, to love her, to keep her. I buried it down deep, like I had for years, and I told myself,
Not here, not now . . . later
.

She broke my concentration as she spoke low. “How much time do you have left?”

I shook my head, realizing I was staring at her soft, pink lips. “Huh?”

She rolled her eyes. “Your break, how long?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “I haven’t been paged yet. It seems a little slow tonight, which is ultimately a good thing. Fifteen minutes is safe.”

She nodded. “Decaf or regular?”

I smirked. “I’m pulling a double tonight for a volunteer who’s sick . . . regular.”

She laughed. “How about a double shot, peppermint mocha? You still like those?”

I smiled. “I do.”

She shook her head, trying not to smile.  “Christmas in a cup,” We both said in unison. We locked eyes and then both laughed.

“It’s not too early for Christmas in a cup?” She asked sarcastically.

I lifted a brow. “Never too early for Christmas.”

She shrugged, and after a moment of staring at each other, I took a deep breath and she focused on making the drink. I didn’t have long with her, so I decided to get right to it.

“So you work here, too?” She shifted her feet as she bit her lip, looking uncomfortable. “Um, not really.”

I furrowed my brows. “Not really?”

She sighed. “I live upstairs and clean this place at night.”

I nodded. “How long have you been teaching kindergarten?”

Her shoulders relaxed and her voice eased at the easy question. “Here? Two weeks.” She laughed. “I taught in North Carolina for four years.”

I tapped my fingers on the counter as I watched her. “North Carolina?” She tensed a little. “So that’s where you disappeared to, huh?” My voice lowered against my will. She shrugged, ignoring my question.

I decided to push my luck as I continued, “So is Lotte your daughter?” Her eyes pinned me as she put the lid on my drink. I smiled at her, trying to make her more comfortable. “You asked Travis to check on Lotte. Short for Charlotte, right? Your daughter?”

Her eyebrows furrowed a little. “Yeah, how’d you know?”

I shrugged my shoulders. Unable to lie to her, I was honest. “Saw the newspaper, but I remember you always liking that name.”

She sighed. “I always have. It worked out that her daddy was a Charles. So you know it all, huh?”

I frowned. “Yeah. I’m so sorry, Pumpkin.” My voice dropped a little, and I truly meant the words I spoke. I didn’t know what else to say to her. I hated what she had gone through, what she had lost.

My eyes pinned her glistening eyes, and she cleared her throat and changed the subject. “She’s great.”

She handed my drink, and I smiled. “Thanks. And if she is anything like her Mama, then I’m sure she is.”

I took a sip of the drink as I looked into her steel grey eyes. “God, this is good.”

She chuckled. “It’s just a simple holiday mocha.”

Our stare was broken with Travis’s voice. “Meg?”

She looked at me and then turned to walk to the open stairway that led upstairs. “Hey, Travis, sorry. I’m just about done. SJ—Sawyer—is leaving in five.”

I didn’t hear a reply from Travis, just thudding upstairs that sounded like pacing. Did he live with her? “He worries about me,” She said quietly as she walked back to the counter.

I hated how rough my voice was when I spoke, but I couldn’t help it. “Yeah? That makes two people then. He lives with you?”

She tilted her head. “Why would you worry about me? And no he doesn’t, not that it’s any of your business.”

Aw there’s my feisty girl
. I smiled as I played with my cup. “I’ve always worried about you, Meg. You thought leaving would stop that?”

Megan’s eyes widened a little, as if my words caused her pain. Her lips were in a tight line for a second, and then she dryly answered, “I was hoping it would.”

I shrugged and couldn’t help that my voice sounded defeated. “Nah . . . you failed.”

She nodded sadly, and then after a sigh, she asked, “Did you follow me here, SJ? To Wheatland?”

I could feel my face twist a little at the accusation. “No.”

Her brows furrowed. “How did you find me?”

I shrugged again. “I didn’t.”

She looked confused. “Are you telling me that you just ran into me? Across the country? After eight years? Since when did you become a firefighter, and why were you at the bar?”

I smiled and then sighed. “As you stated, it’s been eight years, Meg. My interest changed slightly. After you left, I buried myself in my studies. I decided I wanted to help people. I got a degree in fire science, then went to the fire academy. I’ve been working as a firefighter for five years. Uncle Tom, Mom’s brother, is the chief at my station. He called me two years ago with the opening. I moved here, bought a ranch, and began working. I was at the bar on a work call. There was a lot of fire there, Pumpkin, kind of my job to make sure it doesn’t burn down.” I paused and stared at her, then shrugged when she was silent. “I told you at the firehouse that I was thrown, too.” She licked her lips. She had to stop doing that.

“Uh, yeah . . . I know, but I didn’t think it was possible that we would just happen to both be so close to each other, thousands of miles from where we grew up. I guess I remember now that your mom grew up in California. I thought your Uncle looked familiar when I saw him,” She said with a hint of disbelief. Then she sighed. “You have been here longer than me, so that would mean it looks like I—”

I smiled. “Followed me? Looks that way, babe. So how did you find me, Megan? Did you follow me here?” I asked in a patronizing tone and then winked.

She huffed and shook her head. “Obviously I didn’t do it, either, but I guess I’m glad I found you.”

I laughed. “Oh, don’t sound so happy.”

She smiled wider and giggled. “Sorry, I am happy, it’s just . . . ”

I licked my lips and nodded. “Confusing?”

She nodded back and smiled weakly. “So you didn’t find me . . . you just stumbled upon me. I still can’t believe it.”

She tilted her head and I mimicked her, and then in a low tone, asked, “Pumpkin . . . have I ever lied to you?”

She shifted her weight and then shook her head. “No.”

I nodded. “I don’t plan on starting now, so I need you to believe me when I say that I don’t know how I found you—because trust me, I tried. I didn’t listen to your little rant about hating me and the whole never looking for you crap you spewed. I looked. I hunted. I gave up about four years ago.” I bit my lip and she stared at me in awe. Her eyes were wide and had a small glisten to them, like my words affected her. I couldn’t help the hope that filled my chest at the sight of her shocked face.

“Yeah.” I said in a hushed tone. “I don’t know how or why I finally found you, Meg, but I thank God.” Her lips parted a little, and I could see her breathing heavily.

I wanted to grab her, to touch her, but before I could, she swiftly turned on her toes and then walked to a desk where she signed a couple of papers. I couldn’t help but watch the familiar way her body moved. I had loved Megan for as long as I can remember. As I finished my mocha and silently watched her hustle about, ignoring me, I remembered the first time I realized I loved her.

It was my eighth birthday. I was getting better at soccer during recess and seemed to be making more friends. Girls often brought me dandelions and left notes for me saying that I was cute. I always shrugged it off because . . . cooties! I guess girls were pretty and all, but I just wanted to play and run. My best friend was a girl, Megan. She was the prettiest girl, but that’s not why I liked her. I was her friend because she was nice and she didn’t care if she got dirty at recess. She liked to play and run too. Other girls would cry if they got their clothes muddy, but not Meg. She would laugh.