Hometown Hero's Redemption

She snorted. “Not even close. I was so naive. Thought I could make a difference. I tried. I really did try.”

“I’m sure you made a big difference in a lot of people’s lives.”

She quickened her pace, and he sped to keep up with her. “I’d get kids placed in a foster home, and the next month they’d be removed at the foster parents’ request. They needed stability, but did they get it? Or I’d try to get kids out of an unhealthy, neglect-filled home, but the parent would find a way to work the system.”

“Some of the cases you worked on must have turned out well.”

“Some did. The last one, though... I couldn’t do it anymore. Those kids meant too much to me. I always got in too deep emotionally.”

“It’s better to be emotionally invested than to be apathetic. When you don’t care about other people, you only really care about yourself. Trust me. I know.”

“What if you don’t care about yourself, either?” The breeze blew the hair around her face, and she tucked it back behind her ear.

“Then you end up living with a bunch of potheads and working at a gas station because you’re so mad at the world, you can’t handle living in it.” He checked his watch. “I didn’t realize the time. I hate to cut this short, but I’ve got to pick up Wyatt.”

“No problem.” They turned around and started walking back to her apartment. “Do you ever miss playing football?”

“Miss it? I still play.”

“When?” Skepticism laced her tone.

“Me and the guys throw the ball around whenever possible. You should see us when football season starts. We watch all the college and NFL games, and we split into teams to play outside, too. Well, we did back in Detroit, anyway.”

Her smile lit her face. “So I assume you’ll be coaching a rec team for Wyatt this August, huh?”

“Unfortunately, no. Chase made me promise I wouldn’t let Wyatt play.”

“Why not? Isn’t he the big football star?”

“That’s part of the problem. He blames the celebrity lifestyle for coloring his decisions. Like I said, he wants Wyatt—”

“To have a normal life.”

“Yep.”

They crossed the street at a traffic light.

“Hmm...” She appeared deep in thought.

“What’s the ‘hmm’ for?”

“I guess I was thinking no one really has a normal life.”

Drew opened his mouth to refute it, but she had a point. What was normal?

His job was normal. He loved being a firefighter. Craved the adrenaline rush of his duties. Didn’t mind the danger.

Lauren’s complexity intrigued him. What about that last case had made her lose her faith in herself? What had her life been like in Chicago? Why did this golden girl, who seemed to have it all together, not view herself the way he—and everyone else—did?

The questions would have to wait. They reached the parking lot, and he stopped in front of her building’s back door. “Thanks.”

“For what?”

“For giving me the time of day. For letting me talk to you.”

A blush spread across her cheeks. Whoa. He couldn’t help staring at her and wishing things were different.

“Listen, I’m taking Wyatt to the fish fry at Uncle Joe’s Restaurant Friday night. Why don’t you join us? Say, six thirty?”

She bit the corner of her lower lip and averted her gaze. “I’ll think about it.”

At least she hadn’t said no. It would have to be enough. “You know where the restaurant is?”

“Everyone knows where Uncle Joe’s is.”

He nodded and jogged to his truck. As he started it up, he looked back, but she’d disappeared inside.

For a firefighter, he wasn’t being smart. He knew better than to light matches near a dry forest. What was he doing, thinking about beautiful Lauren Pierce? He ran his palm over his cheek. Just because he’d made peace with his past didn’t change the fact that he’d made big mistakes.

She’d been too good for him then, and she was too good for him now.

One thing had changed, though. She’d grown sassy enough to tell him off.

Maybe this was life’s funny way of getting back at him. Because that sass only made him like her even more.

* * *

Lauren didn’t bother changing out of her work clothes after Drew drove away. Instead, she poured a glass of sun tea, selected an adult alternative radio station to play over the wireless speaker on her shelf and stretched out on the couch. What was she going to do now? Babysitting Wyatt no longer felt like an absolute no. But what about the tumbling class or researching a cheerleading academy? Wouldn’t either be the smarter move?

Zingo, her Maine coon cat, jumped on her stomach. “Oof. Watch it, big guy.” He circled on top of her legs three times before curling into a purring ball. She reached down to pet him. “Love you, too.”

Staring at the ceiling, she tried to empty her mind, but it churned with all the things Drew had told her. About Wyatt. About himself.

Hearing about Wyatt’s parents hadn’t shocked her, and she sniffed at how Drew thought it was the saddest story. Yes, it was sad, but so was the destruction she’d witnessed over and over in her life.

Physical abuse, parents giving drugs to their small children, molestation, death—it horrified her. She’d dealt with it all, seen it all, and she wished Wyatt could have been spared. At least he had been able to rely on Drew all this time.

A laugh escaped her lips, and she clapped her hand over her mouth. Where had that thought come from? In one day she’d flipped from thinking Drew a complete waste of time to an upstanding guy?

He’d been honest. Open. Bared his soul, not knowing if she’d retaliate or not.

She was surprised she hadn’t. Well, she kind of had. Her angry outburst earlier had come out of nowhere. The venom still puzzled her.

What had Drew said about being mad at the world? She closed her eyes, trying to remember. They’d been discussing her getting too close to the kids, and he’d said something—something important.

Being so mad at the world you couldn’t handle living in it. That was what it was.

She sat up. Zingo glared at her in protest, then resettled on her lap. Mindlessly, she stroked his fur.