Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92841 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92841 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Shane looks at me, confused for a moment, and then nods. “Okay, then let’s walk.”
He extends his hand for me to take, and without giving it thought, I do, letting him guide me onto the sidewalk.
“Do you work on the weekends?” Shane asks as we walk toward Main Street, where most of the restaurants and bars are located.
“We’re open a half day on Saturdays and off Sundays and Mondays. What about you?” I ask, realizing that while he tends to hold most of the conversation, it’s usually geared toward me.
“I work two shifts per week on different days. My next shift is on Monday.”
“That’s cool. So, you only have to work two days a week?”
“Yeah.” He chuckles. “But I’m there for twenty-four hours, from eight to eight, for each shift.”
“Have you been a firefighter paramedic for long?”
“My entire adult life,” he says, glancing at me. “I found out Taylor’s mom was pregnant a few months after I graduated from high school. I had already enrolled in college to become an EMT. Thankfully, my parents are amazing and helped out once she was born.”
“She mentioned her mom the other day,” I say carefully, knowing how hard it is to talk about heavy shit. “It sounded like she’s not around much.”
“She’s not,” he says with a sigh. “When Jamie found out she was pregnant, she wanted to have an abortion.”
His words cause my body to stiffen and my steps to falter, and it’s then I realize we’re still holding hands. Glancing down at our threaded fingers, I can’t help but notice how much bigger his are compared to mine. They’re also rougher and stronger—probably because they’re hands that are used to protect and save people—and I find myself being comforted by our hand-holding rather than being freaked out, like I’d expect to be.
“I’m sorry,” he says quickly. “I didn’t mean to …”
“No, it’s okay. Sure, it’s hard to think about women not wanting their baby when I wasn’t given a choice when I lost mine, but I believe in women’s rights and wouldn’t judge anyone for making the choice they feel is best for them.”
Shane nods in understanding, then continues, “We were young and not careful, and when she told me she was pregnant, I told her I’d go along with whatever she wanted. But then we went to her doctor’s appointment and heard her heartbeat, and she had a moment of weakness, saying she wanted to keep the baby.”
“Why do I sense a but?”
“Because isn’t there always one?” he says with a humorless chuckle. “Everything was fine until a few months after Taylor was born. Jamie was offered an internship with a huge magazine overseas. She said it was too big of an opportunity to give up, that it would secure her entire future as a journalist, so she took it.”
Shane stops in front of The Black Cat and releases his hold on my hand, and the coldness I feel at the loss of his touch doesn’t go unnoticed.
“She said it would only be for one semester, like a study-abroad type of thing. So, I moved in with my parents so they could help me, and I prepared myself to be a single dad for a few months. Only she never came home.”
“What?” I gasp. “But Taylor seems to know her.”
“She does, as much as a child can know a parent who’s been traveling their entire life. They text and FaceTime, and Jamie occasionally passes through town to visit. Less often since her parents passed away, so she doesn’t have any ties to this town, aside from Taylor.”
Aside from Taylor? That should be reason enough to never leave.
Shane sighs. “It’s one of the reasons I haven’t really dated since Taylor was born. I was so worried that I wouldn’t be enough, that she would resent not having a mom around, that I tried to be twice the parent—for her mom and me.”
Oh, this man. As if he couldn’t get any more perfect.
“I’ve only been around you guys a couple of times, but even I can see that your daughter thinks you hung the moon. If you’re worried about your relationship, don’t be. It’s evident you’ve done a damn good job making sure she’s had a good life.”
“Thanks,” Shane says, hitting me with a warm smile as he opens the door so we can go inside.
It’s busy since it’s Friday night, but we’re able to find a two-person high-top table near the bar. We’ve only just sat down when an older woman comes over and says hello, referring to Shane by his last name.
“This is Trudy,” Shane says. “Her husband, Billy, works at the station with me on the same shift, and Trudy here owns this place.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” I tell her. “I’m embarrassed to admit that I’ve never been in here.”