Page 14 of Spark

“See there? We can do this. It’ll just take some learning for the both of us. What do you think, Gracie-girl? You think you’d like to have me as a dad?”

At my question, she looks up from her chewing to smile at me again. I’m filled with twin shards of delight and guilt. Her smile is a carbon copy of Avery’s, but her eyes? They’re all mine. I don’t need the DNA test we’d taken to confirm paternity to know she’s mine. I knew the moment I saw her. To have her smiling at me? It’s the world’s best Christmas present and winning the lottery all in one.

But there’s guilt there, too. Guilt because a part of me knows Avery wasn’t far off the mark when she said I needed the thrill, that my job is dangerous. I won’t deny both of those reasons are why I love being a Wildland Firefighter so much. If I do decide to stick around, could I give those things up? Much as I want to think I’d be the selfless parent that Avery is, I’m not sure I could.

Chapter 10

Avery

I’ll be the first to admit, I had my doubts about Walker.

Clearly.

But when the first night of babysitting—or rather I should say parenting—didn’t end in absolute disaster, I have to admit, I was wrong. Gracie was happy and healthy when I went to pick her up after my shift and Walker didn’t even seem frazzled. I guess when you compare it to a wildfire, watching after one baby can’t really be that intimidating.

We continue with this routine for the next couple of weeks. He spends more and more of his free time cleaning up the rest of the larger debris in my yard. In no time he has the large fallen trees hacked to pieces and burned. He even climbs up on top of my roof and replaces the tin that had gotten torn up when I told him it was leaking inside the house during the next rainstorm.

The be-all and end-all, though, is when he’s with Gracie. If I had no feelings for him after our night together, seeing him with our daughter would have done it for me. He was awkward at first, a little unsure, but the two of them have a rapport I don’t think I’ll ever be able to attain. He’s lighthearted and daring, letting her grab onto his fingers to practice her wobbly legs and cheering her on while I bite my nails off. He lights up when he sees her and the more time I spend with him, the harder it is for me to remember why I shouldn’t want anything more than a father for my daughter.

Before we can blink, it’s nearly Christmas time. I insisted he spend the night so he could be there for Gracie’s first Christmas morning. How could I not? Seeing him watching her would be the best Christmas gift I’ve ever received.

If I thought he was good-looking in a pair of cut-offs and a T-shirt, it was only because I hadn’t seen him in a flannel and jeans. Or even worse, a Christmas onesie that matches the drooling giggling baby girl in his arms. “You’re sure you don’t mind?”

I give myself a mental shake. Must stop picturing him stripping for me. That’s not exactly the platonic coparenting relationship we agreed on. “I’m sure.”

“I can just drive over in the morning.”

He has Gracie in his lap. He’s staring down at her as she coos and waves her arms. The look on his face is indescribable as he babbles at her like they’re having a full-blown conversation. It’s like I don’t even exist. I’ve never been so happy to be ignored in my life. I can’t believe I thought it would hurt her to have him in her life. If anyone knows what it’s like to be without a parent, it’s me.

After clearing my throat, I say, “I said I was sure. Geez, Walker, are you going deaf already? You can borrow some of Grandma Rosie’s hearing aids.”

“Fine,” he replies with an exaggerated expression which causes Gracie to giggle up at him. Be still my heart. He places her in her bouncer to kick and play with the toys hanging over her. “I’ll stay, but I’m sleeping on the couch.”

I nearly roll my eyes. “Really, like we haven’t shared a bed before.”

At this, his gaze turns molten and the air between us heats like we’re creating our own personal wildfire. “Right. And remember what happened the last time?”

My cheeks burn. We’d been dancing around each other for weeks. The sexual tension hadn’t gone away because we’d decided to be mommy and daddy. It had only gotten worse, at least for me, because I knew making a move would be a huge mistake. “Fine. Stay on the couch.”

But my words come out way more breathless than I’d like. Instead of joking back with me, Walker says nothing. His eyes drop to my lips and I can feel his gaze like he’s kissing me again—something he hadn’t done since the first day. Something I’d been thinking about damn near every second since.

Grandma Rosie is napping and Gracie is happily kicking away in her bouncer, but it feels like Walker and I are the only two people in the world. It’s the same way he’d made me feel the first night I met him at the restaurant. It had been crowded then with the dinner rush, but the second we locked eyes, everything else faded away. I used to make fun of women who talked about love at first sight. Okay, maybe it was lust at first sight and love the moment I saw Gracie smiling up at him.

I’d been hit on at work before, but it didn’t feel that way with Walker. He hadn’t hit on me, not really. At the end of my shift, he’d asked me to a nearby bar, no pretense, no phony coaxing, and I’d said yes without hesitation. I’ve asked myself a thousand times why? What made him feel so safe?

Now I know.

It had been his eyes. They’d been so achingly sad and lonely. Not in a pitiful, I’ll be your female knight-in-shining-armor kind of way. More in an I’ve found my likeness in another sort of way. In his eyes, I saw my own loneliness reflected and for a moment, maybe I thought…it’s silly now, but maybe I thought he’d understand how that felt.

I wonder if he can read how much I want him in my eyes just as easily. The air between us seems to crackle with potential. Potential for heat. For more. Potential for heartbreak. The tension sizzles along my skin, taking with it what little self-control I’d cultivated.

Giving in, I lift my hand to his chest and nearly shiver at the mere feeling of his warmth underneath my palm. I’ve spent so many nights since he kissed me after the storm reliving the moment and wishing I’d let myself enjoy it more that my knees nearly buckle at the contact. Underneath my palm, his heart beats in an unsteady gallop and I wonder if he’s thought about touching me as much as I have him.

I look up and his blue-gray eyes have gone stormy dark. His lips are slightly parted and his chest lifts rapidly with each inhalation. My stomach clenches with the knowledge that I’m not the only one who has been tortured by the distance. I’m not the only one who has been suffering with needs long repressed.

“We should put the baby down for bed,” he says in a rough voice. “So she gets enough sleep for tomorrow.”

“She’s fine,” I say with a shake of my head.