Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Tony

"Think fast!"

Thanks to my Ranger career, I was no stranger to chaos, but even I had to jump as a football soared over my head at six a.m. in the kitchen of Eric's house. Sean was snug in his little carriage house with his boyfriend, Denver, and I'd taken over Sean's old room, which placed me right in the thick of teen central.

Since he'd discovered that I used to play, the middle teen, John, had been trying to goad me into practicing with him. His latest idea seemed to be this breakfast sneak attack. I was still bleary from a late night finishing my audiobook, but I managed to snag the ball with one hand.

"No footballs in the house." Eric gave John a stern glare. Despite the early hour and it being summer, all three teens were in the kitchen, devouring large bowls of cereal.

"Thank God, someone has sense where sports balls are concerned." Wren, the youngest, had a perpetually dry tone and was the opposite of their more athletic sibling, preferring the science lab to the gym.

"And no phones at breakfast either." Eric shook a finger at Wren and Rowan, the oldest teen, who'd been glued to his phone in its purple sequin case the entire time I'd been living here.

"No problem." Rowan deposited his bowl in the sink and grabbed a banana as he headed to the kitchen door. "I need to head out anyway. Gotta get to drama camp on time."

"Go earn some bacon." Eric laughed fondly. Rowan was a camp counselor for a day-camp drama program for elementary school kids, and on the rare occasions he looked up from his phone, camp was all he talked about.

"You could bring some actual bacon home," Wren mused as they refilled their cereal bowl. "We're out. Again."

"Enjoy your cereal." Eric gave a long-suffering sigh that I remembered from when my sisters and I had roared through a very limited grocery budget.

"You okay?" Eric turned toward me as I helped myself to some coffee. "This morning chaos is pretty typical, but I know it's new to a bachelor like you."

"It's fine." I waved a hand. The last thing I needed was my recently widowed friend worrying over me adapting to life with his teens. "A lifetime of sisters and base housing prepped me well."

"Work going okay? I haven't seen you enough to ask." As a paramedic, Eric worked similarly long shifts as Sean and me, but he'd staggered his hours so someone was usually around for the teens.

"Work is fine." I wasn't about to complain to Eric about that either. He didn't need to hear about my doubts about fitting in or how weird it was to start over at forty-two. And no one wanted to hear about the weird pull Caleb seemed to have over me. It wasn't simply his distracting scent and eyes. A purely physical reaction I could suppress, but I enjoyed being around Caleb on an unfamiliar level. In fact, thinking about seeing him again soon made my pulse speed up, and I didn't like that one bit.

"And?" Eric continued to stare expectantly at me.

"I'm getting used to how young most of the crew is." I kept my tone nice and bland.

"You and me both, buddy." Eric saluted me with his coffee cup. "I'm the old man on my crew too."

"Speaking of you old dudes who can't keep up…" John cackled before adopting a more pleading tone. "Can one of you throw for me tonight? I need to get some reps in."

"What does practice matter? Your team never wins." Tone hyperlogical, Wren shook their head mournfully.

"It matters to me. There's a scholarship out there with my name on it. I just know it."

The memory of being sixteen and similarly convinced slammed into me with all the force of the tackle that had stolen said dreams and replaced them with reality.

"Here's hoping." My tone came out way too pragmatic, and John and Eric both frowned. I forced a smile and a brighter tone. "If my shoulder cooperates, I can throw for you. Hey, maybe we should call Cosmo, see if he wants some practice too?"

I'd only seen my sisters a couple of times since I'd been back, and I was still adjusting to how old the nephews were now, including one who was John's friend.

"I forgot your sister has a kid on the team." Laughing lightly, Eric shook his head. "How are Cathy and Angel mom-age now? I guess we all went and got old."

"I know, right?" Catching sight of the oven clock, I swallowed the last of my coffee. "I should head out."

"Make like a tree and leave." Eric's dad joke drew a chorus of groans and gave me a chance to escape to the older compact I'd bought off Angel so she could upgrade to a newer SUV for her family.

Once at the station, Mr. Disconcerting Himself, Caleb, had more training tasks for me.

"Today, we're taking more inventory." He led me to the shelves located off the engine bay. He lowered his voice to a sympathetic tone. "Nothing messy, so you shouldn't need gloves, but I grabbed a pair for you in case you prefer."

Even though Caleb was clearly trying to be considerate, I tensed and glanced around. "Mess doesn't bother me."

"Liar." He rolled his eyes as he handed me a clipboard. "And it's okay. Everyone has their hangups and dislikes."

"Name one of yours?" As far as I'd seen, Caleb was agreeable, almost to a fault, never complaining, even when the rest of the crew gave him a hard time or left him to a dreaded chore like loading the dishwasher.

"Hmm." Caleb pursed his lips, taking the question more seriously than I'd expected. "I don't trust the SCBA tanks. Always check mine a dozen times, and still hate the damn things."

There was a story there, but his cloudy eyes warned against asking. "Fair enough."

"Let's get to work." Far from his usual affable self, Caleb was unusually clipped, which continued as we counted and straightened gear. I was known for being detail-oriented, but Caleb took things to an extreme, making minute adjustments to items I'd handled, placing everything at exact right angles, and muttering to himself the whole time.

Finally, I had to ask. "What's got you in a snit?"

"Me? I'm not in a bad mood." Caleb was an utterly terrible liar, so I gave him a pointed look.

"Yeah, you are. And I'm starting to wonder if you've got a problem with me." I was nothing if not direct. "From what I've seen, you're usually Mr. Cheerful Personality."

"Yep, that's me. The crew comedian." His voice was flat.

"So, either it's me you dislike, or something else is bugging you." I wasn't sure why I was continuing to press him. Friendly Caleb was far more dangerous than this surly and distant version, and I shouldn't have cared so much about what was happening with him. But I did.

"It's not you." Caleb's tone was just cagey enough to make me doubt that. "And it's no big deal. Just kid crap."

"Kid?" I tried to keep my expression neutral and not reveal my surprise. "You're married?"

"Oh, hell no. Not that that would be bad…" Caleb's cheeks went pink as he trailed off. "No kids of my own, but I have my teen brother staying with me for the summer and school year. And he hates me."

"You sure he actually hates you?" I kept my tone conversational as I started checking wear on various pieces of turnout gear. "I have younger sisters, and I'm pretty sure they hated the entire world between thirteen and eighteen."

"It's more than generic teen angst." Caleb stopped abruptly and shook his head. "Sorry. You don't need the whole story."

"We've got nothing but time." I gestured at all the shelves of counting and sorting awaiting us. "And maybe talking will help more than snapping at your new coworker?"

"Point taken." Caleb moved to check the contents of the medical kits. "Scotty got in trouble at school last year—again. Bad friend group. Drinking. Partying. Dangerous pranks. He got kicked off the football team, and my mom sent him to me for a fresh start. Which he doesn't exactly want."

"You're a good brother to take that responsibility on."

"Yeah, I'm decent." Caleb's tight expression said he believed the opposite. "But the problem is, I'm a big brother, not a dad. I have no clue how to be any sort of parent. "

"God, how I know that feeling."

"Oh?" Caleb sounded genuinely curious, and I couldn't exactly encourage him to talk without doing the same.

"Told you. I had sisters. My old man was pretty much worthless by the time I reached high school. Our mom was long gone. Left it to me to try to be all the things—big brother, mom, dad."

"How'd that turn out?" Caleb looked up as he zipped one of the black canvas bags and checked the shoulder strap.

"About as well as you'd imagine." I chuckled self-consciously. Talking about my past always felt weird, a tightrope between complaining and bragging. "I worked too much at my part-time mechanic job, got crappy grades, and barely managed to keep my spot on the football team."

"Of course you played football." Caleb gave a sarcastic sigh.

"Something wrong with the game?"

"You've seen how good I am at it." His pink blush gave way to bright red spots on his cheeks. "But football is all Scotty lives for, and I've got another month before practice even starts to keep him busy."

"Bring him by Eric's tonight. John and my nephew want me to throw for them, but if your brother has an arm, he'd be the better pick."

"Scotty has a good throwing arm and speed." Pride tinged Caleb's voice. "He's the whole package. And not a bad kid when he's not running with the wrong crowd or complaining about how tiny Mount Hope is."

"Bring him over." I nodded sharply. Eric's place was always overflowing with kids' friends, one of those true hangout houses for the whole neighborhood. "We'll give Scotty something to do, maybe some better friends."

"Thanks." Caleb went quiet for a few minutes as he made some notes on the clipboard we were sharing for inventory. Setting the clipboard aside, he glanced over at me. "How'd your sisters turn out? Give me some hope."

"Not gonna lie, it was a wild few years." I clapped him on the shoulder. My palm tingled and fresh awareness shot through me as I forced myself to drop my hand and keep talking. "The youngest is still a hooligan but a gainfully employed one at a music venue in Portland. The other two are nurses and moms."

"I can't let Scotty have any more wild months, let alone years."

"And you can't take on that responsibility," I countered. I could see hints of my younger self in Caleb, especially his weariness and the worry lines around his otherwise youthful eyes. That similarity only strengthened his pull over me, making me want to touch and comfort. "You can't let yourself bear that burden."

"I kind of already took the job on." Caleb made a vague gesture as if I were missing the obvious.

"Learn from me. All you can do is be the best big brother you can." I distilled years of painful lectures from my sisters to one of the hardest lessons I'd had to learn. "You're not going to be a parent, and you won't be able to stop all his mistakes."

"I can try."

"Ha. I'm going to tell you what my youngest sister used to scream at me. It's not about you. Or even how hard you try. I didn't want to admit it for a long time myself. My sisters are all successes now, but that has far more to do with them than me."

"Maybe you don't give yourself enough credit." Caleb was maddeningly earnest. And lord, did I remember those years of thinking a little more money, a little more time, a little more attention would fix whatever ailed my sisters.

"Maybe you give us both too much." My heart gave a weird squeeze as I stepped closer to Caleb. I had no clue what I was doing, only that the need to comfort him had reached near- painful levels. Inhaling deeply, I was hit with another whiff of lemons and grass. Dammit. At this rate, I was going to get inappropriately distracted the next time I had my favorite lemon meringue pie. And that thought should have been enough to make me move away, yet I took another step. "I know it's hard."

My hand snaked forward on a humanitarian mission I hadn't authorized. However, right as I was about to touch Caleb's shoulder again, voices sounded.

"Dude, you owe me another twenty."

I recoiled as two uniformed crew members came through the bay, quickly followed by a third.

" Dudes. Both of you stop betting on sports."

"Let me take the idiot's cash, Suzy."

Stepping back, I didn't make eye contact with anyone, busying myself in crouching to examine the soles of a pair of boots. I had no business letting Caleb generate more than a casual level of sympathy from me. The more I got to know him, the more I liked him. Worse, I'd apparently invited the guy over after work. Danger. The alarm bells I'd heard with our first collision kept blaring louder and louder.