When he’d been eighteen. During the weeks leading up to high school graduation, when he hadn’t yet known exactly what he was going to do with his life but had at least known he couldn’t keep living with his bitter shell of a father. The uncertainty of the situation and his father’s near-total abdication of parental responsibility for or interest in Caden had been bad enough. But it was also what would’ve been Sean’s sixteenth birthday, and the combination sent Caden into a downward spiral that had ultimately resulted in a diagnosis of depression.
And fuck if Caden wasn’t feeling the similarities with that time more than he wanted to admit.
It felt like such a colossal defeat after having held himself together for so long. And now everything seemed to be coming apart at the seams.
It was all almost more than he could bear. And didn’t that make him feel weak and worthless. He was better than this. He should be better than this. Sonofabitch.
He slid his key into the lock on the apartment door, eager to see Makenna. It had helped seeing her Sunday night, when she’d been so sweet as to bring him that care package. She was the light to Caden’s darkness and had been since they’d been trapped in that elevator. If anyone could take some of the weight off his shoulders, if anyone could make it easier for him to breathe, it would be her.
Stepping into the apartment, he was instantly surrounded by the rich, spicy smell of tomato sauce, and for the first time in days, he actually felt hungry. “Red? I’m home,” he called.
Makenna rushed out of her bedroom, wearing a pair of jeans and a blue sweater and the most beautiful smile. “There you are,” she said, rushing right up to him. She flung her arms around his neck. “God, I’ve missed you.”
“I missed you, too,” he said, reveling in the press of her soft heat against all his cold hardness.
Loosening her hold, she pushed onto tiptoes and kissed him in a soft meeting of lips that quickly deepened to more. “Really missed you,” she whispered.
Caden managed a little chuckle as he slid his hand into all that gorgeous red hair. “I can tell.”
Makenna pulled back and gave him a smile. “Are you feeling better?”
He nodded, because what else was he going to do? And being with her did make him feel better, so it wasn’t really a lie. “What smells so good?”
“I made spaghetti sauce and meatballs. All I have to do is cook the noodles and dinner will be ready. You hungry?”
“I could eat,” he said. He’d kept down the small cup of corn chowder he’d eaten for lunch at the firehouse, so he was hopeful that his body would let him have this.
“Good,” she said, slipping away to the stove. She turned on the burner under a big pot. “Make yourself comfortable. Everything will be ready in less than fifteen.”
“Okay,” he said, heading for the bedroom. He changed out of his uniform into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, and then he sagged down to sit on the edge of the bed. Exhaustion settled over him like a lead blanket. God, what was wrong with him?
You know what’s wrong, Grayson.
Yeah, he probably did. Goddamnit.
But for the next few hours, he was going to let all that go and just be with Makenna. If that was possible. He hauled himself off the bed and returned to the kitchen to help get dinner ready. Soon, they were seated at the table with mounding servings of spaghetti, sauce, and meatballs. Crusty, warm garlic bread filled a little basket, and Caden took a big piece for himself.
“This looks fantastic,” he said.
“Good. Eat up. There’s tons left,” she said.
They dug in and ate in silence for a while—which was really unusual for Makenna. She’d always been the one initiating conversation or keeping it going. The talkative yin to his quiet yang.
Looking at her, he asked, “How was your day?”
“Oh.” She looked up. Gave a little shrug and a nervous laugh. “The usual,” she said, waving her fork.
Since he was the king of nervous awkwardness, he recognized it when he saw it. “Is everything okay?”
She scoffed. “Yeah. Of course.” Her smile was just a watt too forced.
He arched an eyebrow and nailed her with a stare.
“Okay, fine,” she said, setting her fork down. “I have some things I’d like to talk about, but I was trying to wait until we were done eating.”
Caden didn’t love the sound of that. He set his fork down, too. “What do you want to talk about?”
She heaved a deep breath, like she was bolstering herself for what she had to say. A boulder parked itself in his gut. “So, I have an idea. We’ve pretty much been living together for the last two-plus months, right?” He nodded, wariness clawing over his skin. “And I’ve been wondering why you’re keeping your place because you’re always here—which I love, but it’s a waste of money, really. But when I was at your house the other night, it occurred to me that if we were going to think about fully moving in together, it would make more sense to move into your house since it’s bigger. And then I’d get rid of this place.” The words spilled out of her in a rush.
He stared at her for a long moment, his brain struggling to catch up, to process. “You want to move into the townhouse with me?”
“Well.” Makenna gave a shy little shrug, one that revealed just how much she wanted it. “I’ve just been thinking about it.”
Caden swallowed around a constriction in his throat. She wanted to move in together. Permanently. For a moment, it felt like maybe there wasn’t enough air, but he forced a couple of deep breaths. The idea wasn’t that big of a deal since they’d pretty much been living together. Right? Though, it took things to a whole other level. And it also took away his ability to retreat into his own space if he fell apart like he had this weekend. That realization sunk tension deep into his shoulders.
“Makes sense, I guess,” he managed. “Let’s think about it and decide what’s best.”
She twisted her lips. “Okay,” she said. “It just doesn’t seem to make as much sense to keep a smaller place when you have such a nice house right by where you work.”
He braced his elbows on the table and clasped his hands together. And tried to ignore the pool of anxiety threatening to bubble up inside him. “Although it’s further away from yours.”
“True, but I don’t mind,” she said, her hands fidgeting on the table top.
“Well, like I said, let’s think about it. Your place is a lot homier than mine.”
Makenna smiled and waved a hand. “That’s just because you haven’t decorated much. But once we moved some of my furniture in and maybe did some painting and hung some pictures, your place would be homey, too. Your townhouse is great, Caden.”
Tightness parked itself in the center of his chest. Why was she pushing on this right now? And why did it make him feel like the walls were closing in on him? “Okay,” he said, picking up his plate and getting up from the table. “Dinner was great, by the way. Thank you.” He walked into the kitchen, needing space so he didn’t flip out when his stress really had nothing to do with her or her idea. He was just in a bad fucking place to be thinking about permanence, which made him feel like an asshole.
She followed him. “Gah, I’m going about this all wrong.”
“Going about what?” he said, that rock getting a little bigger in his gut.
Makenna closed the distance between them, her hands falling on his chest, her baby blues looking up at him with so much affection. For a moment, she appeared to struggle for words, and then she said, “God, I’m being a tongue-tied idiot right now.”
“Whatever you have to say, just say it,” he said, dread prickling like ice all down his spine. Her unusual nervousness spiked the anxiety inside him and tightened the knot in his chest, making his breathing shallow out.
“Okay. Here goes. Caden, I…I love you. I love you so much that I can barely remember my life before you. I love you so much that I can’t imagine my life without you. I’ve been dying to tell you, but I know we haven
’t been together that long. Though, to me, the number of weeks that I’ve known you feels completely meaningless to how attached my heart has become,” she said, her voice urgent and so damn earnest. “I love you. And I’m in love with you. That’s what I really wanted to say.”
He heard the words as if through a long tunnel. They came to him slow and detached, as if his brain had to translate them from some other language to one he could understand, to one he could trust.
Makenna loved him.
Makenna had said the words. Words her actions had been communicating for weeks. Hell, maybe more.
The gates that held back the darkness in his psyche had been badly battered the past few days, and hearing her declaration destroyed what was left of them. All his fears, all his doubts, all his insecurities came rushing forth until he was drowning, suffocating, going under fast.
On the face of it, his reaction made no sense because she’d given him what he wanted—her love, her commitment. But it was getting what he wanted that made him so afraid.
Because deep inside, he was the fourteen-year-old boy who believed he should’ve died so his twelve-year-old brother—the best friend he’d ever had—could live. He was the kid sick with survivors’ guilt who desperately wanted his father to acknowledge him instead of choosing to abandon him. He was a man who’d been taught that life didn’t give you what you wanted, or if it did, it took it away again.
The past. Anxiety. Fucked-up fears. Caden knew it, but he couldn’t fight it. His heart wasn’t whole. His feet weren’t steady. His brain wasn’t right.
He wasn’t right. And in that state, he didn’t trust himself with loving her.
He grasped her hands and pulled them away from his chest. “Makenna, I—” But no further words came out, because it was like his brain had frozen. He knew what he felt, but he didn’t know what to say. How to put it into words, or whether he even should. He was fucking paralyzed.
“You don’t have to say it back,” she said, something sad and maybe even a little disappointed flashing through her eyes. “I didn’t say it with an expectation that you would say it back.”
So she’d expected him to fail her. And that’s what he was doing. Like he needed more proof that she deserved better.
He gasped a breath, all the stress of the past week crashing down on him like a ton of bricks. Or maybe it was more like a house of cards, because in this moment Caden felt like a fucking fool to have ever believed that he was capable of being one of two when his half of that equation was so damn damaged.
“Makenna, it’s just, this is all…” Shaking his head, he stepped back, out of her grasp. His skin was suddenly too sensitive to allow her touch. Hell, the clothes on his back felt too rough, too heavy, too confining. “It’s just a lot. It’s just fast,” he said, not even sure of the words coming out of his mouth.
A look of hurt flashed across her pretty face, and even though she tried to hide it, tried to recover, he knew what he’d seen. “It doesn’t have to mean anything—”
“Yes, it does,” he bit out, hating that his emotional bullshit was making her discount her feelings. To try to make him feel better. “It means fucking everything.” He grasped at his chest, the lack of oxygen setting off a burn right in the center. His head throbbed out a punishing downbeat.
“Caden—”
“I’m sorry,” he said, wincing as he tried to suck in a deep breath. “I can’t…I gotta…go. I just need some space. Okay? Some time?” His fight or flight instinct was kicking him in the ass. Hard. “I…just need some space. I’m sorry.”
Then he was out the door, his whole world imploding around him. Because he’d probably just destroyed the best thing he’d ever had. But maybe that was as it should be, since he clearly couldn’t handle it anyway.
And Makenna deserved someone who could.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Makenna stared at her apartment door¸ the sound of it closing still echoing loudly all around her. What the hell just happened?
She clutched her stomach, just that moment realizing she’d never even gotten to the point of telling Caden about the baby. And, Christ, how was she supposed to do that now? When hearing that she loved him sent him into a full-out panic attack. Never in all the time she’d known him had she ever seen his face go so pale and distant and just…blank out like that. Like she was looking at a shell of the man she knew.
Given how marked by abandonment he was, she’d always worried that hearing her say she loved him might trigger his anxiety. But she never thought it would be this bad.
On instinct, she dashed for the door and wrenched it open, but the hall was empty. She sagged against the door jamb and stared at the emptiness.
Every urge within her told her to run after him. But he’d asked for time and space. Would going after him make things worse? Would it push him away? Was it worth the risk?
The thing was, Makenna understood a lot about how Caden reacted to things. And, after doing some reading on the subject, she understood a lot about how his anxiety and PTSD worked—that didn’t mean she always knew how to handle it, and she certainly had no imaginings that she could fix it, but she understood that he faced these struggles. Hell, his need for a distraction from his claustrophobia and anxiety was what had led them to get to know each other in the first place.
And she didn’t love him despite of all of his issues, she loved him because of them. Or, rather, because they were part of who he was. And she loved who he was. With everything she had.
Which meant she should probably give him the space he needed. Even if it left her heart an aching, bruised mess.
She walked back into her kitchen and let the door fall closed behind her.
Dropping her head into her hands, Makenna fought back tears. She’d gone about that conversation all wrong. At the table, she’d gotten nervous about the big things she had to tell him so she’d blundered into the conversation about moving in together. Which no doubt must’ve seemed to Caden like it came from out of left field. And then she’d piled on her feelings.
“Okay, don’t panic,” she said to herself. Her words sounding loud in the quiet space. “He’ll be fine. We’ll be fine.” She just had to keep telling herself that for however long he needed.
Desperate to keep busy, she mechanically worked through putting the sauce and meatballs into bowls for lunch and to freeze, and then she dove into doing the dishes.
When she was done, she gave in to the yearning inside her and sent Caden just one text:
Take as much time and space as you need. I’ll be here no matter how long that is. xo
She hit Send and then went to bed, hoping against hope that he’d feel better in the morning.
But the morning didn’t bring any word from Caden. Nor did the afternoon, or the next night. Or any day that week. By Friday night, Makenna was a wreck of worry and heartache. She couldn’t bring herself to go home and face her empty apartment. She was worried for him that he was in such a bad place, and she was worried for herself that it might be so bad he’d never make his way back to her.
And she didn’t know what to do.
So she went back to her apartment building to get her car. She wasn’t sure where she was going or what she was even thinking. Or maybe that was just kidding herself. Because within twenty-five minutes, she was driving down Caden’s street, and then past his small cul-de-sac. She slowed down enough to see that his place was dark and his Jeep wasn’t parked in its usual spot. So next she made her way to the Station 7 Firehouse just a few blocks away.
His Jeep wasn’t there either.
Her car idling along the curb on the far side of the street, Makenna stared at the building, a golden glow spilling out into the street from some of the windows.
Part of her was sorely tempted to go in and see if any of the guys knew where she might find him. Or at least knew how he was. Had he even been going to work? But another part of her worried that going to his job to ask after him was crossing a line. Certainly a
line that violated his request for space, and possibly one that could impact his livelihood.
She couldn’t bring herself to do it…but maybe she could call one of the guys she’d gotten to know a little better. Isaac Barrett! He’d come to her house one night for dinner with Caden and a few of the other guys, he’d often made a point of talking to her when she’d come out to the station’s softball games earlier in the fall, and he’d given her a big hug when she’d dropped cookies and brownies off at the firehouse. She wouldn’t call them close, but maybe close enough to ask a couple hopefully casual-sounding questions.
Luckily, she had his cell phone number from when he’d RSVP’d for that dinner. She found it in her contacts and pressed Send.
Two rings, then, “Hello? Bear here.”
“Bear, it’s Makenna James, Caden’s—” She momentarily got tripped up on what to call herself given what was going on between them. “—uh, girlfriend.”
“Makenna of the wonderful brownies,” he said. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
“Hey, I’m sorry to bother you but I was wondering if you might know where Caden is.” There. That sounded casual. Right?
“Gimme a second,” he said. Muffled words she couldn’t make out sounded in the background, and then a door closed. “I’m back. So, Caden took a leave of absence. Didn’t you know?”
A leave of absence? Makenna’s belly slowly sank as a feeling of dread spread through her. Caden was so dedicated to his job, so much so that it seemed more like a calling to him. She couldn’t imagine him walking away from it. Unless he absolutely had to. “Unfortunately, no.”
“Is he okay, Makenna?” Bear asked. “His last coupla shifts, he was running way ragged.”
“He’d been sick,” she said. “But, I don’t know, maybe there’s something else.”
“Yeah,” Bear said in a knowing voice. “I hope everything’s okay.”
“So do I,” she said, her throat suddenly thick with tears. “If you hear from him, is there any chance you’d let me know? I’m…well, I’m worried.”