Single Dad Burning Up - Cathryn Fox Page 0,2

to protect here.”

Her lips quirk at the corner, then her smile falls. “You good, Callan?” she asks, her voice soft, and I get what she’s asking, what people are still asking two years later.

“I’m good,” I lie. I’m as good as can be expected, I guess. Truthfully is anyone ever ‘good’ again after losing their wife and unborn baby boy? I was once told that when you lose someone you have bad days and days that aren’t as bad. I hate that I fully understand that now.

“Do you keep in contact with any of the old gang? Are you and Mason still friends? Wait, he’s a firefighter too, right?”

“Yup, still best friends,” I say. “Come on, I’ll walk you out.”

“Sure.”

We head toward the doors, and the warm afternoon sun shines down on us, but it does little to loosen the tightness in my lungs. On those bad days, I walk around with an invisible band around my chest, squeezing tight. Who am I kidding? On those days that aren’t as bad, the belt is still there. I’m not sure it will ever slacken, and maybe I don’t want it to. Maybe I deserve the grief.

Gemma leans into me, her warmth and citrusy scent stirring the controlled storm in my body. Her voice is low, for my ears only when she whispers, “If she’s serious about lessons, I do have an opening.”

I nod, and consider it. “She would probably love it. Her mom…” I let my words fall off.

“I know,” Gemma says, and glances at her feet. “We can talk about it more later if you want.”

Her reaction isn’t unusual. Most people avoid the subject of my wife. They don’t know whether it will upset me or not. I’m glad they don’t know how to react. It means they’ve not had loss.

“We can talk about it over ice cream,” I say to Gemma.

“Ice cream,” Kaitlyn belts out, and we both laugh.

“Nothing gets by her.” I shake my head. “Unless you have other plans,” I say, hoping she doesn’t.

“I do,” she says. A ridiculous sense of disappointment sits heavy in my gut and I work to ignore it. “But,” she says brightly, holding up an index finger. “Ice cream first.” A smile reaches her dark eyes when they meet mine. “It’s been too long, Callan,” she says in a soft voice. “Let’s get caught up.”

“I’d love that.”

“Yay,” Kaitlyn says, her hand sliding into mine. “Swing me, Daddy.”

I pick her up under the arms, and give her a swing, and she squeals in delight. I set her down and she grabs my hand and Gemma’s. “Now both swing me.”

“Kaitlyn—” I begin, wanting to set boundaries when it comes to other people.

“It’s okay,” Gemma says, and we both take one arm up high, so it doesn’t pop from the socket as we swing her.

“That was fun,” Kaitlyn says as we reach the car. She hops into the back to buckle herself in, and I glance around to see what Gemma is driving.

“I walk to school,” she says. “I bought a townhouse a few blocks away.”

“Oh, nice. I didn’t realize.” I pull her door open for her. “Ride me.” What the fuck. I give a quick shake of my head at my blunder. “I mean ride with me,” I say quickly.

“I know what you meant,” she says, mature enough not to needle me as she slides into the car and sets her papers on the back seat beside Kaitlyn. None of the guys at the station would have let that go, and when I say guys, I mean the female fighters. I love them all dearly, like family, but they love to ride my ass—as in harass me relentlessly, all in good fun of course. I get a whiff of her scent as she settles in my passenger seat, and I tug my hair, closing the door behind her.

Ride me?

Really, Callan?

Shit, it was a simple slip, but now that I’ve said it, I kind of can’t stop thinking about it. Me in bed, sweet Gemma on top of me. My dick twitches as I circle the car and I clench my teeth and work to purify my thoughts. Yeah, the guys are right. I do need to get laid. I never was the kind of guy to sleep around, but maybe it’s time for a one-night stand. Not with Gemma, of course. We’re just friends. Yeah, sure she was cute in high school, but four years of college later, combined with a couple years of