The Baby Bond (15 page)

Cassidy kissed Alex on the forehead, laid him on the play mat that had recently appeared in Nic’s apartment without explanation and followed Nic into the kitchen area. “Too late for caffeine. How about water?”

“Works for me, too.” He motioned toward the fridge. “I’m on shift tomorrow. Gotta get up early.”

“Tap water is fine. We’ll save the bottles for running.”

“We. I like the sound of that.”

“Don’t get cocky. I only let you come along to entertain Alex.” She cast a quick glance at the baby. He was doing mini-push-ups and drooling on a terry-cloth fire truck.

The popcorn began to pop, the scent filling up the apartment. Nic sniffed the air. “Man, I love that smell.” When the microwave
pinged,
he removed the bag, holding it by the top with the tips of his fingers. “Hot, hot. Good thing there’s a firefighter on the premises.”

The comment cooled Cassidy’s enthusiasm. She wished he wouldn’t remind her of the primary reason why she shouldn’t be here. He was on duty tomorrow. Anything could happen.

She found a glass bowl in the upper cabinet and held it out while he dumped the popcorn. “What did you need to talk to me about?”

Nic’s hands paused on the now empty bag. “In a minute. Wait until we sit down.”

A worse feeling crept over Cassidy.

Nic blew into the popcorn bag, twisted the top and slammed his hand against the bottom.
Pop!
Even though she’d seen it coming, Cassidy jumped.

She jabbed an index finger toward him. “If Alex starts crying, you’ve lost your superhero status.”

Nic peered over at the child who seemed unfazed by the unexpected noise. “Superhero status, huh? So now you admit it.”

“I admit nothing.” Pretending haughtiness, she pitched a piece of popcorn into her mouth before going to the couch.

Nic settled close. Real close. Cassidy knew she should probably scoot away but she didn’t want to. Not yet anyway.

“Alex is trying to sit up alone now,” she said, more for
something to fill the silence than to start a conversation about baby development.

“I noticed. It’s kind of cute when he topples over.”

She chuckled. “I know. It’s like watching slow motion. One minute he’s up, and then slowly, slowly he leans sideways.”

“The leaning tower of Alex.” Nic tossed a piece of popcorn into the air and caught it in his mouth.

Cassidy applauded, making fun. “A man of many talents.”

He aimed at her. When she didn’t open her mouth, he tossed anyway. The popcorn bounced off her chin.

They both laughed.

“Nic, this is fun, but I can’t stay long. I need to get up early in the morning and try to get some work finished before I go to the office.”

“Still behind?”

“Yes. And my boss is not a happy camper. He says I’m ruining my career.”

“Are you?”

“I don’t know. I love my work but it doesn’t consume me like before. My mind is in a dozen places instead of totally focused on the job.”

“Life isn’t all about work.”

The comment was something she would have expected from Nic before, but now she knew his goal and the efforts he’d taken to reach it. “Let’s don’t talk about this. Tell me why you wanted me to come down.”

“All right.” He pressed both palms against his thighs, shoulders arching before reaching for a piece of paper on the end table next to his medical guide. “Got this today.”

“What is it?” She leaned forward and saw the words
fire marshal
across the top. Dread pulled at her insides. She must have gasped because Nic snagged her gaze with his.

“You asked to see the report when it came in.”

She nodded, unable to speak just yet. With each passing day the grief had settled more and more into a deep, abiding ache instead of screaming agony. Yet, not a day went by that she didn’t remember the fire that had stolen her sister and Alex’s parents.

“Are you okay?” Nic touched her cheek, brought her gaze back to his. “Can you handle this?”

She nodded again, not sure at all.

“Cass,” he said softly, studying her face. “Is it the memory of your sister or the idea of fire in general that upsets you most?”

Her lips went dry. “Both.”

“Talking about fire scares you, doesn’t it?”

She shuddered, suddenly cold though the room temperature was pleasant. “Terrifies me.”

Nic’s fingers trailed down her arm to grasp her hand. “For a while I thought it was me, but now everything makes sense. The smoke alarms in every room of your apartment, even the way you’ve tried to push me away.”

“I didn’t try—” But she couldn’t lie. Nic was an intelligent man. He’d known she wanted to avoid him. “The problem isn’t you.”

“It’s my job, isn’t it?” Nic loosened his grip on her hand and leaned forward, elbows on his thighs, to stare at Alex. A subtle shift in mood had occurred that Cassidy didn’t understand.

“Firefighting is dangerous, Nic. I’m glad you’d rather be a doctor.”

Normally any hint that she might be concerned about him would instigate a wisecrack about his ego or some other sassy Nic remark. This time he let the opportunity slide and instead made a funny little huffing sound.

In a distant voice, he said, “Yeah. Good thing.”

Several seconds ticked past while Cassidy contemplated
Nic’s odd behavior. Alex flopped over on his back and gurgled, a reminder of the time. The baby needed to be in bed. So did she.

Though she had no great desire to hear the ugly details of her sister’s death, she might as well get it over with. “Will you tell me about the report now?”

Nic’s gaze flicked to her and then to the page in his hand. After a couple more seconds, he shook off the strange mood.

“The cause of the fire was pretty much what we thought. No arson or foul play. An electrical short. It started in the downstairs front bedroom.”

Pain pierced Cassidy’s heart. “Where Janna and Brad slept.”

“Yes.”

Cassidy closed her eyes, imagining the menacing flames that sucked the life from her only sibling. Her throat threatened to close. “No wonder they didn’t have a chance.”

“They didn’t. That part’s a mercy, Cassidy. As hard as it is to believe there could be good in this, that part is good. Toxic gas took them quickly.”

The horror of such an insidious killer made her nauseous. Deadly fumes that sneaked up on her beautiful sister while she slept, dreaming happy dreams of her home and husband and baby.

“But why didn’t the smoke detectors work?” she asked, tormented by that one thought. “I bought them myself. I helped Brad install them the day they moved in.”

She’d tried so hard to keep her tiny family safe. Dear, accommodating Brad had thought she was overcautious and paranoid on the subject of fire, but he’d done the work on the spot to appease her.

“The one in Alex’s room worked properly,” Nic said. “I heard it myself. Someone had removed the battery from the one downstairs.”

With a groan, Cassidy pressed a palm against her forehead. “Dear Lord, why? Why?”

But she knew why. Janna complained about the instrument’s sensitivity. When she cooked certain foods, the alarm reacted.

“We’ll never know for sure who disengaged the battery. Unfortunately, it’s a common occurrence. We see it all the time. Let me tell you, finding a nonfunctioning smoke alarm makes a firefighter crazy.”

“Me, too.” That’s why she had one in every room of her apartment and hanging over her desk at work. Brad and Janna had refused to be that “paranoid,” they’d called it.

“Janna loved scented candles,” she said, trying to piece together the truth that killed her sister. She shuddered. “I hate them. I begged her not to buy any at all, but she thought they were perfectly safe. She wouldn’t burn one while I was there because she knew they upset me, but I know she used them. Vanilla,” she said sadly. “The house always smelled of vanilla. Maybe one of them caused the alarm to sound so she took the battery out and forgot about it.”

“Yeah, it’s possible.” Absently, Nic popped a knuckle. The sound was loud in the quiet room. “Whatever the reason, I’m sorry, Cass. For you, for Alex, for her. She was beautiful. Like you.”

The sadness in Nic’s remark shook her. She’d never considered that a tragic scene would also have affected him. She’d only considered how he reminded her of her sister’s death. Not of how much he’d done, and how he’d tried to save her family.

“You carried her out,” she murmured. “Oh, Nic. How awful for you.”

His jaw tightened. He swallowed.

With mingled sorrow and gratitude, she touched his cheek. Their gazes collided.

“Hey,” he said softly. “You’re crying.”

Cassidy hadn’t realized she was, but now she felt the wetness rolling down her face. Unable to speak, she shook her head and tried to turn away. Nic would have none of it. He pulled her to him, pressed her cheek against the soft cotton of his silly T-shirt. His hand stroked the back of her hair, comforting.

“Cry if you need to, baby. You don’t always have to be strong.”

As if she’d needed permission, Cassidy let the tears come. Part of her wanted to feel foolish for the long overdue reaction to her sister’s untimely death. Another part of her knew she needed this cleansing.

While Nic stroked her back and hair and murmured reassurances, she cried for her sister and Brad, for baby Alex’s loss of his parents, for her own parents long dead.

When the siege ended, she remained in Nic’s arms, reluctant to pull away. Funny how safe and comforted she felt in a fireman’s strong, fit arms. No, not just any fireman’s, but Nic’s alone.

The thought was both scary and enticing.

Beneath her cheek, Nic’s strong heart beat steady and sure. He smelled of cotton and popcorn and that special something that was Nic’s alone. Something comforting and good.

“I’m okay now,” she managed through a throat still clogged with emotion, the sound muffled against Nic’s chest. She sniffed, a little embarrassed.

As she leaned back a tiny bit, Nic’s hands slid around to cradle her face.

“Are you sure?” he asked, peering intently into her eyes.

She nodded shakily.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “I needed that.”

Nic’s thumbs traced the tracks of her tears and stroked the corners of her mouth. Her lips tingled in response.

“You know what
I
need?” His voice was husky and warm.

Before she could venture a guess, he lowered his face, his breath a feather-touch against her lips. She knew in that instance he was going to kiss her.

Cassidy tried to think of all the reasons why he shouldn’t.

She tried…and failed.

F
ire Engine One swung around the tight corner on the return to the station. The inside reeked with the smell of burned rubber. The fire at the tire manufacturing company had taken hours to subdue, and even now one engine company remained on the scene to kill hot spots.

Nic glanced across the seat to his buddy, Sam Ridge. What he saw brought a laugh. “Man, you should see your face.”

Black soot smeared his high cheekbones and rimmed his mouth and eyes.

Ridge’s mouth twisted. “Can’t be as bad as yours.”

The captain, seated in the front, swiveled. “None of you boys are winning any beauty contests. Not even your women will recognize you.”

His friend harrumphed but said nothing. Nic knew what the captain didn’t. Ridge didn’t have a woman, although plenty of ladies noticed his native good looks and long, athletic form. Nic knew his friend had reasons for steering clear of the female population. His wounds ran deep.

As for Nic, his thoughts immediately went to Cassidy. She’d freak out if she smelled this smoke and fire all over him.
He’d be sure to grab a shower and plenty of cologne before he jogged up the steps to bug her.

Cassidy. He smiled, aware that his teeth gleamed snow white against his sooty skin.

Last night, he’d kissed her. He’d thought of little else today to the point that his captain had commented on his quietness during the fire call. He, who usually jabbered and bounced around as hyper as a rat terrier, was struck dumb.

Nic wasn’t sure what the big deal was. He’d kissed plenty of girls over the years, though if he admitted it, none in a while. Not since Cassidy and Alex began to occupy all his time as well as his thoughts. Kissing Cassidy was different, though. Not that he could put his finger on what that difference was.

Weird. He wasn’t sure what was going on in his head or maybe in his heart, but one thing was for sure, he’d never felt this way about anyone else.

That fact made him a little nervous.

His cell phone ripped into his latest download, the creepy movie theme from
Jaws.
The sound always brought a smile to his lips and usually a shiver from the ladies. He kind of liked that.

Ridge shook his head and grinned before turning to look out the window.

Nic flipped open the instrument. “Party Central. Elvis speaking.”

“Nic. Adam.” His brother’s tone was short and serious, not at all like Adam. Nic’s radar went up.

“What’s up, bro?”

“Got some bad news.”

All the flippancy went out of Nic. He sat up straight, tensed by the sudden foreboding in the back of his mind. His brother wasn’t one to exaggerate. “What’s going on? Is everyone all right?”

By everyone, he meant family. Had there been an accident? One of the kids. Oh, please, God, not that.

“Mom’s in the hospital.”

“What?” His hands started to shake. “What happened? Did she have an accident?”

“Look, I’m sorry to tell you on the phone, but we’re trying to get the word out. We need to start the prayer chain. Nonstop.”

The words scared Nic even more. His throat tightened. Mom was the rock, the family hub, the one to whom everyone went with troubles. She couldn’t get sick or hurt.

“Adam. Brother. What’s the matter with our mama?”

A long pause pulsed through the phone. Nic was aware of passing cars, of people on the sidewalks, of Ridge and the captain staring at him, of the awful stench of burned rubber.

Finally Adam’s strained voice said, “When your shift ends, come to the hospital. Nicky,” he paused again and sucked in a quivering breath, “Mom’s got cancer.”