Because of her distracted state, I triple-check after her as she enters her office and returns with a purse. “Ready,” she states, holding the bouquet close to her chest without squishing it.
Ushering her out of the building, I wait until she secures the door and then pulls it to make sure before I take her hand in mine. She seems startled at first but then relaxes as we walk.
“Did you drive?” I sincerely hope not. I know she and Laken often walk home together. Have to say I’m not a fan of her doing it on her own, given that I know she often starts her days with the sun rising.
“No, I walked this morning.” I hold back the growl in my throat.
Barely.
Instead, I squeeze her hand gently and guide her to my parked truck. “Perfect. I had planned to make us dinner at my place.” Helping her into the vehicle, I buckle her belt and steal another quick kiss.
“Oh. You cook?” She sounds surprised.
Jogging around the truck, I climb in and start her up before answering Ophelia. “I’m a man of many talents, Philly.”
She mumbles something, but I don’t catch it all. Though I think she said something like, I’m learning that. But I can’t be sure.
We ride to my place in silence. I don’t live far from Hale, and in turn, it’s not far from her. Not by design, of course; it just happened.
Fate, my mom would call it.
Staring at Ophelia as she attempts not to look at me, I think I’m in agreeance with her. I’m now a fan of Fate. Something I never thought would happen.
Parking in the garage, I wait until the door lowers before getting out and opening Philly’s door. With a hand, I offer her a step down. My truck has a lift on it, and until now, I hadn’t realized just how much of a nuisance that could be to someone shorter.
“So, what are you making?” she finally asks as we enter the house. Hanging my keys up, I kick my shoes off after she does. Her toes dig into the plush carpet I spent an insane amount of money on. I now know it was all for this moment as she releases a blissful sigh.
“It’s a surprise,” I respond. Which brings me to my next problem. This was impromptu; I was not prepared at all. I just wanted her in my space.
I didn’t lie when I said I can cook, I just don’t have anything pulled out to make her a decent meal. “Why don’t you take a look around, and I’ll be right back?” She hums her confirmation but doesn’t say anything else.
Dipping down the back hallway, I head to the laundry room and the deep freeze I have in there to see if there are any of the premade meals Mom often brings over. Spying a frozen pan of chicken parmesan, I grab that and go to the kitchen.
Ophelia is in the living room, inspecting the photos hanging on the wall beside the TV and fireplace. She looks like she belongs here. And I want her to feel that way, too, because I can’t picture a life without her anymore.
I’ve spent the last decade focused on my career, being the best I can be. I’ve dated sporadically, nothing too serious. And until Hale met Laken, I hadn’t given much thought to a partner for myself. I didn’t realize how much I craved that.
Over the last year, I’ve spent many lonely nights trying to imagine what my future wife would look like. Not once did I think it could be Ophelia. Sure, I was attracted to her from the moment we met, but I’d never imagined it being more until our lips touched on that first date.
“You’ve fought wildfires?” She looks over at me as I’m preheating the oven.
“A few times.” Leaning back against the island in the middle of the kitchen, I watch a range of emotions play across her face. “I flew to California a few years ago. I was there for almost a month.”
“Where was this one taken?” Her fingers trace the flames of burning trees in the background.
“Fort McMurray, Canada. Back in 2016. I was there for a week. Nearly ruined an entire city. One of the angriest fires I’ve ever encountered.” I still remember the devastation left in the wake of that horror show. It was like a ghost town when I’d left.
“Do you do it often? Leave to fight wildfires?” She isn’t looking at me, which can mean a hundred things. Her shoulders are tense, and her arms are crossed, so I have to believe it’s out of worry for me.
After sliding the pan of chicken into the oven, I approach her, standing behind her slight body. Slipping my hands onto her hips, I draw her frame back into mine, cradling her against my body as I lean over to kiss the side of her neck.
Goosebumps rise on her flesh as she shivers, her hands moving to hold mine. “I go about once a year, wherever I’m needed. Fighting fires is a calling for me, Philly.”
“What happens if you don’t come back?” The emotion in her voice has me wrapping my arms farther around her body before turning her in my embrace.
“That’s a risk with any fire I fight. Wild or in the city. It’s what I signed on for when I took the job.” I see the understanding mixed with fear in her eyes.
Ophelia is terrified of letting herself feel something for me out of fear of losing me. Christ, she’s precious.
“I’m good at what I do, Philly. I don’t take risks I don’t need to. I’m always cautious, but a fire is never predictable, so, yes, the risk is higher.” I pause, letting her process that. “I promise to always do my best to come back to you, though.”
I don’t give her a chance to respond as I swoop down to capture her lips with mine. I’m unsure who needs the connection more, her or me. But I’ll be damned if I don’t take it anyway.
Ophelia
“You made this?” Torque’s eyes shift as a crimson hue brightens his cheeks.
“Honestly, my mom did. I just stuck it in the oven.” I smile at his bashfulness.
“So do you actually cook, then?” Dipping my last bite of bread into the marinara sauce, I savor it because whether he cooks or not, his mom is amazing.
“I do. She taught me everything I know.” With his dimples, his grin comes off boyish, and I feel myself getting heated. “Tonight, however, I just wanted you here with me. I didn’t have a plan, and since I’ve got a few of her meals in the freezer, it worked out.”
Bringing the glass of rosé to my lips, I swallow back the last bit as I ponder his words. “Next time, you’ll cook for me then?”
His eyes light up. “So, there’ll be a next time?”
I shrug, not committing to anything. But if he were to ask me formally, the answer would be yes. I’m drawn to Torque in a way I’ve never experienced before. I enjoy the way he makes me feel. There’s no pressure, despite the number of kisses he keeps stealing from me.
“There’ll be a next time.” His smoldering gaze has me biting my lip and lowering my eyes. Torque is intense in a way I wasn’t expecting. He makes me want things I didn’t think I’d be lucky enough to even wish for.
I grew up in a less-than-ideal situation. It left an imprint on me, and even on the days where I think I’ve outgrown my fears of men and what they’re capable of, they often come roaring back tenfold. But with Torque, every emotion is displayed on his face. He lets me know what he’s thinking and feeling without saying a word.