Light up the Night (Firehouse Three #2)(51)

Drake had promised to text her. How would she know he was okay? There wasn’t any landline here, she couldn’t just call him to let him know. She’d have to spend the entire evening wondering if he was okay. Not knowing. Being there alone, when they were supposed to be together. Being safe, while he was in danger.

How was she ever going to handle this?

She turned to face the spray, and told herself that the wetness on her cheeks was all from the shower.

Crying for him wasn’t smart, because they weren’t anything to each other. Not yet. They couldn’t be. It was too soon.

Her heart called her a rotten liar.



“You’ve got to be f*cking kidding me!” Belinda screamed at the stupid hotel, but the smoke kept billowing out from the ground floor anyway.

After days of planning, she’d been ready to roll on Plan B. She’d hired an actor—kid was nineteen, but looked like he was still waiting for his first wet dream—to accuse Everly of messing with him when he was underage. The ruination would be public, ugly, and final.

No way in hell could Drake stay with a woman accused of being a pedophile. Even his parents would have to jump in on that one—with his name being what it was, his reputation had the potential to drag down Hammerfell Investments if he was involved in a public scandal like that.

But now? Since she’d been dragged out of her bed at o’ dark-thirty and all her shit was still inside the Hyatt doing a damn good imitation of beef jerky inside a mesquite wood grill?

All that shit was on the back burner. Literally.

“Un-f*cking-believable,” she growled as she paced back and for the behind the police tape. There were flashing lights everywhere, hotel guests and staff milling around to watch the carnage.

Apparently the fire had started a few buildings down, but something had exploded, and lucky for Belinda, her hotel was joining in the fun. The only positive she could see in the whole situation was that there were firemen everywhere.

Drake had to be there somewhere, didn’t he?

She craned her neck, pushing against the bright yellow tape to get a better look at the fire engine that had just joined the scene in front of the Hyatt. Several guys in turn-out gear were climbing down and trading off with the crew that had been manning the hoses since Belinda and the rest of the guests had been evacuated.

And then she saw him. He’d just taken his helmet off as he exited the building. Dirty, and sweaty, and gross, but it was him.

“Drake!” She screamed his name and tore through the stupid plastic tape. Sprinting for him, she dodged trucks and stunned firefighters to reach his side, right there at the base of the smoking hotel.

God. To think he was here, finally, within reach. He’d come to save her, he’d—

“Watch out!”

The shouted warning jerked her gaze toward the sound, but she had no way to stop the massive ladder as it descended directly toward her.

Something heavy caught her around the middle, and she had the incredible sensation of flying as she went backwards, a strong arm wrapped around her back, another cradling the back of her head and protecting it from the impact against the blacktop.

The ladder connected with the back of her rescuer’s head and he went limp.

“Oh shit. Drake! Drake, are you okay?” She slapped his face, trying to wake him up. He was out for the count, a streak of blood running down his cheek. His leg was still pinned under the huge, heavy ladder.

Someone dragged her away from him as another guy barked into his radio. Only a handful of seconds later an ambulance pulled up.

“You’re taking me with you,” Belinda demanded of the EMS. “I’m his fiancée.”

The paramedic just kept strapping Drake down, but he didn’t argue when Belinda climbed into the back of the ambulance next to him.

“It’s okay, Drake, I’m here.” She patted the back of his hand awkwardly.

Finally, she was where she should be. Right beside her Hammerfell. He better bounce back fast from this. She wanted a June wedding.



After the most sleepless night she’d had in a very long time, Everly loaded up to head home. With all the dogs secured in their car harnesses, and the small bag she’d packed in the trunk, along with the things Drake hadn’t had a chance to take with him, she climbed into the driver’s seat.

The first faint fingers of dawn were stretching out over the house’s roof. She’d be home by eight. Since it was Sunday, the cell phone place wouldn’t open until eleven. There were hours to kill, but she couldn’t just sit around the house and pretend everything was fine. So, she drove.

A cup of drive-through coffee was the only breakfast she needed, and she sipped it slowly as she headed down the highway. But after only a few miles, the silence was getting to her. Gossamer’s loud, sniffly breathing wasn’t enough of a distraction from her swirling thoughts.

Drake was the most important person in her life. She knew that now. After pacing a hole in the floor all night because she couldn’t hear a word from him, she was definitely convinced of that fact. But asking him to quit his job because it made her worry wasn’t a possibility. So, how could she handle this? Falling in love with him hadn’t been in her plans, but now that it had happened, what was she to do?

She’d love to call Jesse and talk it through, because her best friend was going through the same damn thing with Hunter, but her lack of a cell phone put the kibosh on that idea.