Blowing Smoke: A Small-town Firefighter Gay Romance (The Wilds Book 2) Page 13

  “It’s okay…”

  “No, it’s not. You were just trying to look out for me and I was a monster. I told you I’m going to try to be better, and I am, but it’s hard to break old habits.”

  I lace my fingers with his and give him a small smile. “Jared Easton, I have known you for a dozen years or more, you think I don’t know you’re an asshole?”

  “Hey,” he protests.

  My small smile grows to a grin. “But I fell in love with you despite you being an asshole, and a colossal pain in my ass, and—”

  “Gee, thanks,” he mumbles, pretending to be wounded.

  “Let’s go feed some chickens,” I laugh, both of us bundling up before we head out holding hands.

  It’s another bright, frigid day, the air glittering with suspended ice. I walk slowly through the snow, trying to keep the pace easy for Jared, who’s out of breath before long.

  “You sure you don’t want to stay inside? It won’t hurt my feelings…”

  “I bailed on you yesterday. I can pull my weight around here,” he says, teasing through puffs, but I can see he’s struggling despite his efforts to lighten the mood. “Just need to catch my breath,” he mutters, leaning on me.

  “Inhaler?” I ask.

  He makes a face, then coughs when he tries to breathe. It’s a raspy, shallow cough, but he keeps going. He can’t seem to stop, and then he’s patting at his coat, wheezing between coughs. I find his inhaler in his pocket before he can, and he takes a puff, his other hand on my shoulder for stability. It doesn’t stop his coughing though. He doesn’t get a good dose of the medicine, and I see him start to wobble.

  “Jared? Let’s get you sitt—”

  I’m too late with the suggestion, his eyes roll back and he lands in the snow with a muffled thud.

  Even though my first instinct is to panic, I have too much training for that to happen. I sit him up, loosen all the clothing around his neck and chest, and do what I can to rouse him.

  “Let’s get you inside,” I say, shoving aside all other thoughts right now. He’s going to go to the doctor whether he likes it or not, even if I have to get my brother’s help to carry him to the truck.

  I should’ve known he was putting on a brave face for me. I know he wants to help, but this isn’t the way. Spring will be here before we know it, and with spring comes the start of jumping season. Even before the fires start we’ll be doing training and drills—I don’t want to leave him alone.

  I’m not sure I can leave him alone. As it stands, it seems like Jared’s a danger to himself with his refusal to admit his own weakness. What’s going to happen when I’m gone and there’s no one around to rescue him and take care of him?

  If I knew he’d at least ask someone else for help with me being gone it wouldn’t be so bad, but he won’t even come to me. He’s so stubborn and proud it’s going to be the end of him. And us.

  “I can…” he breathes, then takes a deep breath. “I can walk,” he says, staggering forward on his own.

  “Well you better steer your ass straight towards my truck then,” I say, leaving no room for argument. His shoulders sag, but he’s literally got no leg to stand on after this.

  I call his doctor’s office on the way and let them know what’s going on. They tell us to go right to the hospital for x-rays, assuring us they’ll call ahead to let the hospital know to expect us.

  “I’m never getting back on active duty at this rate,” Jared grumbles, head falling back against the headrest.

  “Is that really what you’re worried about right now? Instead of the possibility of you dying?”

  He sighs. “I’m not dying… It’s just a cold or something.”

  “Yeah, after you just had surgery to drain like a gallon of fluids from your lungs two months ago. You’re not Superman, Jared. No one is. But you’re going to kill yourself pretending and then I’m going to be really pissed.”

  Chapter 19

  Jared

  They’ve got me on oxygen while I wait for the x-ray machine to be available. Every doctor and nurse that I’ve interacted with has been politely cool at best. I’ve already gotten a couple of lectures about waiting to address the issue—everyone in this small hospital seems to know about my saga, even if I only sort of recognize some of them.

  Last time I went through all this, I was near death and fully out of it. I don’t remember the tests, the needles, the hurry up and wait while lead grows tighter and tighter in my chest. Hunter’s with me the whole time, but he doesn’t say much to me. We sit in awkward silence in the hall outside the x-ray room, only the hiss of oxygen cutting through.

  I really didn’t think it was all that serious, but the response from the hospital staff makes me a lot more fearful. I kind of thought they’d roll their eyes that I’m wasting their valuable resources with a silly cold, but it’s been the opposite.

  I almost died two months ago. What the hell was I thinking just trying to go back to normal? I’ve always been too stubborn for my own good, but there’s a line where stubbornness crosses into stupidity, and I think I crossed it a more than a few miles back.

  After the x-ray, I’m sent back to my room while we wait for the results.

  A nurse comes in and hooks up a bag to my IV.

  “What’s that?”

  “Antibiotics,” he tells me. “It’s to clear up the infection. The x-ray will tell us if we need to drain your lungs again. This could have all been avoided if you came in the moment you weren’t feeling well,” he adds.

  “Yeah, I’ve heard that a few times,” I mutter.

  “Well, Chief, maybe you should try listening.”

  I figure it’s better to not start an argument with the person sticking needles in me, so I press my lips together to keep my response in.

  The worst part is I know he’s got a point.

  “You’re lucky you’ve got someone looking out for you,” he adds, looking over at Hunter, and the green-eyed monster of jealousy suddenly wakes up. Is he flirting with Hunter?

  “I know I am,” I answer, narrowing my eyes at the nurse.

  There’s a knock on the door, a doctor coming in with her tablet.

  “Got those x-rays,” she says, flipping the screen around to face me. I don’t know what I’m looking at. It’s an x-ray of my lungs, I guess, but what am I supposed to be seeing?

  “And?” Hunter asks, the first time he’s said anything in a long time.

  “Looks like you got lucky this time. If you’d waited another day you’d probably be in one of these beds for another week,” she says, giving me that stern look that always comes down from authority figures when they’re disappointed in you.

  “No tubes?” I ask, not sure I want to believe it. I’ve been dreading going through all that again, especially since I’ll be fully aware and conscious this time.

  “I don’t think that’s necessary, no,” the doctor answers. “But I really want to impress upon you how much worse this could have been if you didn’t come in today.”

  “I understand,” I tell her. Her expression doesn’t change.

  “Do I have to stay the night?”

  “No. Once the medicine is in your system and your oxygen levels are good, you can go home.”

  Even though I don’t look at him, I can feel Hunter seething beside me. Does he want me to have to stay in the hospital again?

  Isn’t it bad enough that I’ve been through all this crap again?

  As scary as it all is for me, though, I can’t imagine what it’s like from where he’s sitting. He’s just helpless, wishing I’d been honest with him sooner.

  Everyone in this hospital is doing a great job of making me fear for my life, but that fear pales in comparison to the one brewing every time I look at Hunter.

  Have I done it this time? He’s been so patient and understanding, but on the way here, something felt different. He was worried, he was scared, but he was also angry. With good reason. But now I have to wonder if I’ve pushed him pas
t his breaking point.

  What if he decides I’m not worth the headache anymore?

  I swallow, my throat tight, my whole body going cold with panic at the thought.

  I can’t let that happen. I can’t lose him.

  I have to turn this around. No more half-assing it or trying to ignore my problems.

  The doctor checks on all the monitors attached to me before she leaves, the nurse following behind her. As soon as they’re gone, it’s like the air is sucked out of the room.

  I don’t know what I’m going to say to him, but I have to say something.

  “Hunter, I—”

  He holds up a hand, his expression grim. He takes a deep breath, and it’s shaky. He’s withdrawn and not looking directly at me. My heart sinks.

  I’m too late.

  “I can’t keep doing this,” he says, barely a whisper. He looks over at me, eyes bright, and shakes his head. “I love you, but I can’t keep going like this. I can’t be the only one that cares about your well-being. We’re either in this together or we’re not in it at all, and it’s becoming increasingly obvious which one of those it’s going to be…”

  I sit up straighter in the bed and reach for him.

  “No,” I say. “You’re wrong.” He doesn’t hold my hand, but he doesn’t snatch his back. “I’m so sorry, Hunter. You deserve so much better and I keep screwing up. I’m going to do everything they tell me I need to. It took way longer than it should have, but it’s sinking in how serious this is…” I squeeze his hand, so warm compared to mine. “I don’t want to lose you.”

  The lectures had some effect, but it’s really seeing how all this impacts Hunter that’s driven this wake-up call home for me. He doesn’t deserve to be worried like this, and I can’t keep pretending I’m an island, that what’s going on with me doesn’t affect anyone else. The evidence to the contrary is sitting right next to me.

  Not to mention the waste of resources. I’ve used up hours of the doctors’ and nurses’ time that could’ve been spent with other patients with needs that aren’t their own damn fault. I made an oath to protect and serve this community, and I haven’t been doing a good job lately.

  Hunter and Gateway deserve better.

  “I’ll do whatever it takes to make this up to you,” I say, lacing my fingers with his, my heart in my throat. “Is there any way you could forgive me? Give this thick-headed asshole one more chance?”

  Hunter huffs, looking down at our joined hands. He squeezes my hand back.

  “You know I can’t stay mad at you even if I wanted to,” he grumbles, thumb tracing the outline of my palm. “It’s just… It’s so scary to think I’m going to lose you. I can’t imagine my life without you—”

  “And I’m doing a terrible job of ensuring I’ll always be around for you,” I offer.

  He swallows, nodding. “Yeah, you really are.”

  “Did I say I’m sorry?” I ask, tugging on his hand. He stays seated, pursing his lips.

  “Not enough times yet,” he answers.

  “Well, I am. I should have let you help me, and I should have told you I wasn’t feeling great.”

  “I could tell, you know. I’m not stupid.”

  “I know,” I say, tugging his hand again. “Come here.”

  He’s still pursing his lips, but he sighs, rolling his eyes, moving to the bedside.

  I pull him down into a kiss, my heart swelling. Maybe all hope isn’t lost. It’s been too long since I’ve told him, I don’t say it nearly enough, but I’m going to make more of an effort. I need to be better all around. For him, I can do it.

  “I love you,” I whisper, hand on the back of his head, keeping him close. “I promise I’m going to do better. No more trying, I’m gonna do it.”

  “You better,” Hunter says, his voice tight, eyes shimmering. I kiss him again, sealing that promise, imbuing it with all the sincerity and determination I feel.

  We’re going to be okay. We have to be. I don’t know what I’ll do if we’re not.

  Chapter 20

  Hunter

  Jared keeps looking at me over the edge of his coffee mug like he’s waiting for something.

  “Everything okay?” I ask, making a face. As far as I know, he’s been feeling a lot better lately. It took about a week of bed rest after the hospital visit before he was up and around again, and then we’ve gone through the slow process of building up his strength, working on his stamina. I know it’s been hard for him, but he really is doing everything he’s supposed to without complaint.

  He hasn’t even grumbled when I check he’s taken his medicine.

  “Aren’t you going to check on the animals?” he asks, refilling his mug.

  “Eventually,” I answer with a shrug. “They’ll be all right for another ten minutes.”

  “Mm,” he mutters, looking away, then back to me.

  What is going on with him? He’s being weird.

  “Are you sure everything’s okay? You’re not feeling short of breath or feverish or anything are you?”

  “No, I’m fine,” he says quickly. “You’re just normally more of an early bird kinda guy. It’s almost nine,” he says, chuckling nervously.

  Okay, now I’m really suspicious.

  “Are you waiting for me to leave for something?”

  His eyes widen, he sputters, scoffing. “What? No… Why would I… What? No,” he laughs, still nervous and awkward.

  My stomach twists. I’m not one to concoct hypothetical situations of deceit or infidelity, but something is going on with my boyfriend.

  “Come on, Win,” I murmur, eyes narrowed at him as I take my dishes to the sink. “Apparently we’re not wanted here,” I add, dosing my voice with a hefty layer of drama.

  Jared jumps to his feet, crossing the kitchen in three steps. “That is not at all what I said,” he says, his voice a low growl that sends shivers down my spine.

  “So tell me what’s going on,” I whine. “Haven’t you given me enough gray hairs for one lifetime?”

  A slow smile spreads across his face, and he leans in to kiss me. “Have a little faith, hmm? Just trust me.”

  “That’d be a lot easier if you weren’t being so weird,” I grumble, folding my arms over my chest.

  He takes a step closer, his body trapping me against the kitchen counter. His hand slides up the back of my thigh, cupping my ass, pulling me against him. He kisses me long and deep, his tongue slipping past my lips, moving in ways that make me groan, clutching at his shirt.

  Heat rises up in me and my dick starts to harden, my body familiar with this lovely song and dance even though we haven’t fooled around much since his latest hospital trip. He grinds against me, tongue claiming me, body hot and solid against mine. His hand’s still on my ass, and I keep waiting for it to shift, or for his other to come down. I keep expecting him to take this the next step, but he seems satisfied with kissing me senseless in the kitchen.

  All of a sudden, he’s pulling back, both of us breathing heavy. My whole body feels hot and flushed and I want to drag him back to the bedroom, but there’s still the question of what he’s up to playing in the back of my mind.

  “Go feed the chickens,” he says, smirking at me.

  It doesn’t help with my suspicions, that’s for sure.

  Whatever it is, though, I’m not going to figure it out by pestering him or sticking around. He’s being mysterious for a reason, and I’m just going to have to trust him, like he says.

  Ryder’s pulling up as I’m heading out with Winnie, and I wave at him, but don’t hang around to chat. I’m too eager to get my morning chores done and catch Jared. What I’ll catch him in, I don’t know, but he’s definitely up to something. I hope like hell it’s not something reckless and dangerous to his health. I really want to believe him when he says he’s taking that more seriously now. He’s not a kid with nothing to lose anymore.

  It’s been a few days since we’ve had any fresh snowfall, so the top layer is crunchy ice,
every footstep deafening in the otherwise still silence of the farm. The chickens are eager to enjoy the sun, well used to the routine by now. I don’t know why I didn’t make them a sunroom sooner, but I’m pretty sure they’ll never winter without one now.

  After raking the litter and tending to the chickens, I head out to the barn, still miraculously standing after all this snowfall. Whoever built this thing really knew what they were doing. Everyone wants to give me shit about the state of it, but I think it’s worth saving. If Tanner and Jared had their way, they’d just rip it down to the foundation with a backhoe. Ryder would probably tell me I don’t need a barn at all if its only purpose is to keep warm the cats that are only around to rid the empty barn of pests. No pests if there’s no barn, no cats if there’s no pests, no barn needed for the cats. Problem solved.

  Ryder doesn’t get it, though. He never has. As much as he says he looks up to me and has been following in my footsteps, he and I are fundamentally different in what we want out of life.

  The barn cats are mostly feral, but this time I come bearing treats: meat trimmings and scraps I’ve been saving up. Though none of them are particularly friendly, I do get the quickest headbutt against my hand from one of the orange guys. A gray one winds around my legs, making the raspy sounds of a cat that never learned to meow.

  Meowing is a thing they do for us. It’s like the baby voice some people put on around cute animals or small children. They use an entirely different voice when talking to each other, and if a cat’s never been socialized around people, it doesn’t meow, it just makes weird throat sounds, chatters, chirps, growls, hisses, no meows.

  This one makes a sound that sounds like he’s saying “ah” or “ow” but he’s in front of a fan. “A-a-ah-ow.” I give him another scrap of caribou meat. Ryder came home with a whole roast a couple weeks ago, a cow this time. I’m still wondering who his friend who knows a hunter is, but prying isn’t really in my nature.

  “Winnie, that’s for the cats,” I warn. She’s sniffing her way over and a couple of the cats dart off right away, one of the older ones standing her ground, back arched, ears flat. “She’s gonna get you,” I warn again. Winnie sniffs a little closer and the cat hisses, swiping. That’s enough to scare Win off, even though I don’t think she actually got hit.