Page 101 of The Fire

“Lance! Lance, don’t you try to get out of the car by yourself, you hear me? You’ll fall and crack your head, and if I have to spend anotherminutebreathing the nasty air of that hospital, I’m going to scream. Parker! Parker, grab the crutches!”

I took another breath and closed my eyes for a second.

“Mom, he’s fine. The crutches are just a precaution,” I reminded her.

“If you trustthatdoctor,” she muttered. “He wouldn’t even admit your father, despite how pale he looked.”

“You’d look pale too, if you’d taken a golf ball to the back of your leg,” my father grumbled, throwing open the passenger’s side door. “Damn thing knocked out my knee and had me sprawled on the grass.”

I rolled my eyes and went around the back of the car to get the crutches from the trunk along with my backpack. “You know,” I told my mother, “you had me believing Dad was dying.”

“Well, how was I supposed to know? Gerry said he collapsed on the golf course!”

“And of course you believed the worst,” I said.Of course.

“Still can’t believe how badly Stu fucked up that shot.” My father snorted. “Wait until I see him.”

“I thought he told the doctor thatyouwandered into his shot.”

“Please,” my father scoffed. “His shot went wide. And it barely evenbruisedme. No power behind the driveat all. I’m never gonna let him live this down.”

“I’m so glad I’ve never taken up golf,” I muttered. I brought the crutches to my dad and held out a hand to help him from the car, but once he was up, he waved the crutches off and limped toward the house on his own.

I rolled my eyes. Lance Hoffstraeder on crutches? Never gonna happen.

“But you’ll take it up now!” my mother said. She smoothed my t-shirt across my shoulders and sighed in satisfaction, then looped her arm through mine and led me around my limping father toward the front door. “Now that you’re here, we’ll finally get you out on the course. After we get you some new shirts, of course. And pants.” She patted my arm and moved ahead of me with her key out.

I smoothed a hand over the soft thigh of Jamie’s jeans, which were hanging from my hips. “I like my pants just fine,” I said softly. The only thing I would have liked better was if Jamie was here wearing them, because that would mean…

“Oh, Holy Mary!”my mother screeched, jumping back and nearly knocking me over until I caught her shoulders and set her back on her feet.

A tall, broad-shouldered figure emerged from the shadows next to the door, and at first I thought I must be imagining him—conjuring his features or something, because I wanted him to be there so badly.

“Jamie?” I whispered, hardly daring to hope.

But then he said, “Hey, Parks,” in his deep, soft voice and… fuck. I felt like kneeling down and crying, no lie. And my dad could think what he liked.

“Jameson Burke?” my mother gasped.

“Beatrice,” he returned, his eyes never leaving mine.

“How in God’s name did you get here?” she demanded.

Jamie scratched his head like the question confused him, and I had to stop myself from reaching for him and kissing him right there and then.

“Well,” Jamie said. “There was a plane. And then a Lyft. Before that, I borrowed Parker’s car to get to the airport.”

“Welivein agated community,” my mother informed him.

“Yeah,” he said, looking at her for the first time. “You might wanna be careful about that. The driver knew the code ’cause he’s been here a few times.” He shrugged. “And when I got to your house, your neighbor told me you were at the hospital, so I decided to wait. She’s got the cutest little dog. Pomeranian, I think.”

My mother sucked in a gasping breath, but before she could say a word, Jamie’s gaze swung back to me, and then beyond, to my dad, who’d finally hobbled his way up the path.

“Everything okay?” Jamie asked me softly.

And just like that, itwasokay. Because Jamie wasthere.

So, it was the easiest thing in the world to take the two steps that separated us, to grab his head in my hands and yank him down to me, to press our lips together with absolutely no finesse whatsoever, and show him how fucking glad and relieved I was.