SWNOVELS Finding Hayes: Chapter 1
I pulled on my boots and glanced out the window to see the snow falling, hiding the grass outside the firehouse, which was covered in a layer of white powder. I was happy to be done with my three-day shift and ready to get out of here and get some sleep. We’d been slammed every day with several medical emergencies due to the cold temperatures. There’d been a bad car accident, and my paramedic training had come in handy when we’d received the call, but thankfully, everyone was going to be all right.
This afternoon, we’d gone over to the elementary school because, of course, I’d volunteered to talk about fire safety for my godson Cutler’s second-grade class. He was my best friend’s son and my boy in every way imaginable, and there was nothing I wouldn’t do for him, even if it meant calling him by his favorite handle, Beefcake, in public.
I was tired and ready to call it a night.
“Hey, Rambo, you heading out?” Beebs asked, as he dropped his backpack onto the bed across from me.
We all had nicknames, aside from Lenny Davis, who was just a dick by nature, and I knew calling him “asshole” wouldn’t fly, so he was the only dude who went by his given name here.
I’d been granted “Rambo” my first year on the job when I’d gone into a fire and came out covered in soot, carrying a three-year-old little girl. The local newspaper had run a story about it with my photo on the front page, saying I looked like Rambo charging out of that fire. The little girl had been okay after a short hospital stay, and the name had stuck because the guys at the firehouse wouldn’t let it go.
I’d hated the attention at the time, but it had been worth it to be able to place that little girl in her mama’s arms.
Priscilla Larson was a thirteen-year-old teenager now, and she still brought me cookies every single year on the anniversary of that fire.
These were the things that I loved about my job.
“Yep. I’m ready to sleep for a week.” I pushed to stand and grabbed my coat. The snow had been coming down hard all day, which meant it was cold as hell outside.
“Yeah, it’s not letting up out there, so drive carefully. I actually walked here, and I stopped in at Whiskey Falls for a quick bite on my way in. The hottest chick I’ve ever seen was in there talking to Ruby. Damn, I was pissed that I had to leave for work,” Beebs said. He’d gotten the nickname because his long hair was styled to swoop across his forehead, and it was no secret that he spent a shit ton of time on it every morning. So, he’d started out as “Bieber,” and somewhere along the way, he became “Beebs.”
“Who was she? A tourist?” I asked, pulling the zipper up on my coat.
“Nope. She said she grew up here. She’s here for Abe’s funeral,” he said, and my hand froze on the zipper.
“Was her name Savannah?”
“Probably to you,” he said, as he barked out a laugh. “But she told me that I could call her Savvy because I think she was feeling the Beebs, if you know what I mean.”
“Sure, she was.” I rolled my eyes. “She must be into that young boy-band look, then.”
Savannah Abbott was in town.
I knew she’d come.
She’d loved Abe Wilson like he was her own grandfather.
But I was surprised to hear that she was hanging out at Whiskey Falls bar, because the few times she’d ever come back to town, she’d only gone to see Abe.
She’d avoided me, or at least it felt that way.
“I’m all man, baby,” Beebs said, as he pounded his chest before turning to see Lenny walk through the door, his face straightening.
“Beebs, get downstairs. We’ve got a meeting in five.” Lenny was the other lieutenant on our crew, and we always worked opposite shifts.
There was no love there.
Long before he’d fucked my fiancée, I hadn’t cared for the dude. He’d always been a whiney little bitch, even back in high school when I was quarterback and he sat on the bench. Instead of working harder to be better, he just complained about the injustice of not getting play time.
Maybe you should suck less, dickhead.
“Yeah, got it. I’ll see you later, Rambo.” Beebs clapped me on the shoulder, and I nodded before making my way toward the door.
Lenny just stared at me as I moved in his direction, and then he held a piece of paper out to me. “Hey, Woodson. Kimber is hosting a fundraiser this weekend for the firehouse. It would be nice if you showed up, because the guys tend to go if you go.” He hadn’t ended up with my ex, because apparently, she’d cheated on him shortly after I’d found them together. And the asshole had the gall to come try to discuss it with me and bond over the situation.
We weren’t friends. Never would be.
I snatched the paper out of his hand. Another fucking fundraiser. Just in time for Cap to retire in three months.
How fucking convenient.
“And what exactly are we raising money for this weekend, Lenny?” I said, not hiding my disdain for the man.
He quirked a brow. “Kimber thought we could get some new bedding and window coverings in here and spruce the place up.”
Spruce the place up? It’s a fucking firehouse.
He had no interest in fixing this place up. She’d never hosted so many events as she had these last few months when word got out that Cap would be announcing his retirement soon.
Which he did announce recently.
And now this fake motherfucker wanted to present this family environment, as if that made him some sort of leader. He wasn’t the dude charging into fires anymore. He always sent the younger guys in first.
Lenny Davis did not lead by example. He was good at playing the game.
And I’d always hated that part of my job.
The politics.
I wasn’t any good at it. I was all about putting out fires, helping people in distress, and making sure our guys all got home safely.
“Sure.” I smirked. “And what did last month’s fundraiser get us?”
“Are you referring to the hoedown that Kimber hosted at our place? We raised enough money to get that big-screen TV down in the hangout and the standing popcorn maker.”
Like I said, the man doesn’t lead by example.
“I don’t think the people in this town should be giving their hard-earned money to buy us a TV or new curtains. We have a budget for those things.” I stepped closer, leaning in and keeping my voice low. “You could just try doing your job and not acting like a fucking saint to impress Cap. We’re here to fight fires, remember?”
He stepped back, the corners of his lips turning up the slightest bit. “It’s not about the fires, jackass. You just don’t get it, Hayes. The owner of a football team isn’t the guy cleaning up the shit in the stadium; he’s the one showing up to the party who everyone wants to talk to. I’m the face of this house, and you—you clean up the shit.”
I shoved him back against the wall, getting in his face. “This is a fucking firehouse. Those guys need to be led, not attending parties so we can buy stupid shit. Do your fucking job.”
I could see the fear there. I was several inches taller than him and probably had forty pounds on the asshole. But he held that annoying smirk on his face and pushed me back, barely moving me. “And why should I do that? I’ve got you to do my shit work.”
“Everything all right in here?” Cap’s voice pulled me from my anger.
I nodded slowly as I took a step back. “Yeah. Everything’s fine.”
“You know Woodson just has a temper sometimes, Cap. But I can handle him.” Lenny chuckled, and my hands fisted at my sides. This fucking guy got under my skin.
“How about you go get your meeting started,” Cap said to Lenny, turning to me after Lenny walked out of the room. This man had been more of a father to me than my own dad ever had. “You all right, Hayes? Long shift?”
“I’m good. I’ll catch up on sleep over the next few days.”
“All right, son. Take it easy.” He called me that sometimes, and I didn’t show it, but it meant something to me. “Get some rest.”
“Will do, Cap.” I made my way out to the cold, jumped into my truck, and headed through downtown toward my house. But when Whiskey Falls bar came into view, something had me turning the wheel and pulling into the parking lot.
I hadn’t seen Savannah in years, and I was curious to see how she was doing.
Hell, the truth was, I’d never understood the way she’d cut me out of her life so abruptly all those years ago.
I pulled the door open, and the place was quiet, aside from Ruby, who was standing behind the bar, which was not the norm, as she didn’t work here anymore. Her father owned the place, so maybe she was filling in for someone tonight. But my gaze landed on the woman she was speaking to, sitting across from her, head back in a fit of laughter.
Savannah Abbott had the best laugh.
Always had.
She was the one person who could bring it out of me because she was funny as hell. At least, she used to be. She also used to be a scrawny little thing, with her hair tied back in a ponytail. But today, long caramel-brown waves ran down her back, and she didn’t look like the sixteen-year-old teenager who’d left town in a hurry.
Who’d left me.
She wore a pair of faded jeans and a black turtleneck sweater, and the foot of her cowboy boots rested at the base of the barstool.
“Looky here,” Ruby said, when she turned to see me walking in. “I figured you’d head home after your long shift.”
“I didn’t expect to see you here either,” I said.
“Dad’s got the stomach bug, so I’m covering for him tonight. What’s your story?” She arched a brow.
“I guess I was craving a burger,” I lied. I’d come to see if Savannah was here, but instead, I feigned surprise when my gaze met her honey-brown eyes. “Hey, Sav.”
“Long time, no see, Hayes.”
“That’s a fucking understatement,” I said, my words coming out harsher than I’d meant them to.
“I’m sure you survived just fine.” She shrugged, reaching for her wineglass and taking a sip.
“Let me get that burger going for you.” Ruby set a beer in front of me and disappeared into the kitchen, and I dropped onto the stool beside Savannah.
Damn, she was pretty. Always had been, but she looked different now.
She was gorgeous and sexy and all grown up.
But I’d be cautious where this woman was concerned. She was probably going to be gone as quickly as she came.
“I’m guessing you’re here for Abe’s funeral?” I asked, as her gaze moved along every inch of my face, making no effort to hide it.
“Yep,” she said, letting out a long breath. “You look good.”
“You need to get out more, then. I just got off a three-day shift, and I feel like shit.”
“Always the optimist.” She chuckled.
Damn. I’d missed her laugh.
“You look good, Shortcake.”
I was surprised at how easily her nickname rolled off my tongue.
Like no time had passed at all.