Single Mom’s Firemen: A Contemporary Reverse Harem Romance (Lucky Lady Reverse Harems)

It’s all a bitter haze.

I’m not dead.

I can hear Luna and Sammy crying out for me somewhere in the darkness. Eric calling out to Wyatt and Chase to help him. The sound of a wheeled gurney rushing across from the ambulance. The fire still burning as the diner caves in. Good grief, it sounds awful. Like the earth itself opened and ate it all up.

“I’ve got her,” Eric says.

“We need to get her to the hospital,” someone replies.

Their voices echo in my head while I swim in the darkness.

“Mama!” Luna screams.

My sweet baby Sammy keeps crying. The sound of his voice breaks me into thousands of little bits and pieces. I hate to hear him and Luna suffer like this. I know they’re terrified. But I can’t move. I’m not really conscious; I’m somewhere in-between the world of the living and the world of the dead.

I’m loaded onto the gurney.

I feel someone touching my wrist. Looking for a pulse.

“Is she breathing?” Eric asks.

“I need to intubate her.”

I feel a poke and everything fades away.

My eyes peel open for a brief moment but I can’t focus on anything. I hear monitors and people rushing about but I can’t make sense of what’s happening. I think I’m in a hospital.

I hear the words, “smoke inhalation” and “second-degree burns.”

Second degree? That sounds bad.

The darkness comes back for me and it all washes away.

I don’t know how long it is before I actually wake up. I drift in and out for a while, catching snippets of conversation. My left upper arm and shoulder are tightly bandaged, a cool sensation traveling all the way to my tingling fingers. My whole body aches, every joint screaming and begging me not to move though moving is all I want to do.

The room feels cold.

I take a few minutes to open my eyes. When I do, the picture before me is clear. I’m in a hospital room with clinical white walls and harsh ceiling lights that make my head hurt. The neon buzzing scratches the very surface of my brain, made worse only by the steady beeping of monitors.

I’ve got an IV in my good arm and an oxygen mask on my face. The air feels sharp as it feeds my lungs and cleanses my system of everything I inhaled during the…

“Fire,” I manage, my gaze desperately darting across the room.

I try to move but it hurts too much.

Eric pops into my line of sight. I didn’t even see him until now. He’s still in his uniform, his face blackened from the soot.

Sammy. Sammy’s face was like that. My children.

“You’re okay,” he says. “You’re gonna be okay, Halle.”

“Sammy… Luna…”

“They’re safe, they’re next door. I’ll bring them in as soon as the doctor’s done with his checkup. They still have a few tests to run, to make sure there’s no carbon monoxide issues.”

My mind is fractured and I can’t think straight.

I can only look deep into Eric’s blue eyes and desperately cling to the sense of comfort that his presence provides. He saved us. He saved my children. He and his brothers.

I’m safe. We’re safe.

I fall asleep to that mantra.

The next time I wake up I am infinitely more alert and more aware of my surroundings. The clock on the wall says it’s two in the morning. I can still smell the smoke and burnt wood. My hair stinks of that raging fire. I’ll need a long bath to get it off of me.

“Sammy… Luna…” My voice is weak and raspy.

“Hey, hey,” Eric says, reappearing in my field of vision. “Welcome back.”

I give him a long, confused look as the moments leading up to this replay in my mind. The events that brought me here to this hospital room. “Oh, God…”

“You’re okay. The kids are fine. They’re asleep,” he says, then points to the left corner of the room. “Look over there.”

I follow his gaze and find Luna and Sammy huddled together under Eric’s firefighter jacket on a cot the staff has brought in. Both of them are sleeping soundly, exhausted and quiet. I would like nothing more than to jump out of bed and hug them both and never let them go, but my limbs feel weak and heavy. Besides, after everything they’ve been through, they need sleep. Tomorrow holds a different kind of challenge I realize, as tears prick my eyes.

“The diner burned down,” I manage.

“Almost completely, yeah. I’m sorry,” Eric says. “You were lucky that we were at the firehouse when the call came through. A few minutes more and I don’t think it would’ve ended as well.”

“Good God.”

“You’re alright and the kids are too, that’s all that matters. Nobody else was at the diner, nobody else got hurt.”

I glance down at my shoulder, frowning as the discomfort takes center stage. “I’ve got some burns, right?”

“Nothing awful. With some care and a good topical ointment, you probably won’t have visible scars,” Eric replies.

“They said second-degree burns.”

“It looked worse than it actually was, trust me,” he says, giving me a reassuring smile. He’s so calm and comforting. “You’re going to be fine, Halle.”

“Thank you,” I say with a trembling voice. “Had you not been there, I would’ve—”

“Hey now, don’t let this fool take all the credit,” Wyatt chimes in.

I look around and realize that Wyatt and Chase are also here, both of them standing by the window. They’re still in their firefighter gear—the pants and tees, at least. Their jackets occupy the second chair next to the kids’ cot, along with their oxygen tanks and radio stations.

Despite the nightmare I just survived, I can’t help but notice how ridiculously handsome the Danson brothers are, even after a night’s worth of hard work. They’re sweaty and dirty from the fire, tired and worn out, yet they still carry themselves with the kind of grit and determination that gets my engines rumbling.

These are some ridiculous thoughts for me to entertain at this point in time, but it is better than facing reality.

“You’re all here,” I say, my gaze bouncing from Eric to his twin, Chase, then Wyatt and back. Eric and Chase are almost identical, though the former is slightly bigger and buffer than the latter. Wyatt is taller and more slender, but just as athletic and dominating with his presence. “Why?”

“We were worried about you,” Wyatt says with a wry smile. “We just witnessed our favorite waitress in deadly peril. Our favorite diner burning down. We’re in a lot of pain here, Halle.”

“You’re in a lot of pain?” I scoff, shaking my head slowly. “I’m homeless.”

“You were renting the apartment upstairs, weren’t you?” Eric asks, looking at me with a certain intention in his eyes.

I nod slowly. “For cheap, too. I lost everything up there. My ID, my wallet, my clothes, the kids’ stuff. We’ve got nothing. We had little to begin with, but now… nothing.”

“Hey, hey, it’s gonna be okay,” Eric tries to comfort me but the tears run freely, my whole body shuddering as reality comes crashing down on me harder than the ceiling beam did earlier. “You and the kids are going to pull through this.”

“How?” I mumble. “The diner is gone. I don’t know if they’ll rebuild it or cash the insurance check and sell the plot altogether. I don’t have a job anymore, obviously. My kids and I are homeless. How the hell am I going to pull through this?” I take a deep, almost painful breath in an effort to regain my composure. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to complain or to sound ungrateful after what you and your brothers did for me, for us.”

Eric reaches for a glass of water resting on the bedside table, puts a straw in, then gives it to me. I grab it with my good hand and sip half of it in one, long gulp. “First things first, Halle,” he says. “Is there anybody that you’d like us to call?”

“No,” I say, decidedly.

My mother let me down one last time earlier tonight. She’s out gambling and being her usual self. I’m done trying to reason with her, and I’m certainly done foolishly relying on her for anything. Colby is out of the question, and so is that sociopathic shrew of a mother of his.

“Are you sure?” Eric asks, carefully analyzing my expression.

“Yes.”

“She’s all alone,” Wyatt confirms, then looks at my kids.

“I’ll manage,” I say. “You don’t have to worry about me. You’ve already done so much.”

Chase scoffs, giving me a long, persistent glance. “We were just doing our jobs, Halle.

“You’re still here,” I shoot back. “You didn’t have to stay. I’d argue that’s going above and beyond just doing your jobs.”

“We were worried about you,” Eric says. “We still are.”

“He’s right,” Wyatt insists and crosses his arms.

The brothers exchange meaningful glances, and for a moment, I find myself completely lost. It all happened so fast. In the blink of an eye, my whole life went up in flames quite literally. My fresh start blown to smithereens. Reduced to ashes.

What the hell am I going to do?

“It’s gonna sound weird, crazy even,” Eric says, pulling me back into the moment.

“What is?” I ask, totally confused now.

“You’re going to stay at our place,” he says, after what feels like a long and heady silence.

“I’m going to what, now?” I blurt out, my brain failing to properly register what I just heard.

“You’re going to stay at our place,” he repeats, while Wyatt nods in agreement. Chase frowns slightly, but he doesn’t seem entirely against it, either. “Until you get back on your feet. You and the kids can stay with us. We have a house up on 7th Street, a couple of blocks east of the fire station.”

“Two bedrooms all to yourselves,” Wyatt says. “One for you, one for the little ones.”

I’m speechless. It feels like forever before I manage to string a few words together. “Have you three lost your minds?”

“No, but you lost the roof over your head,” Chase grumbles, almost insulted.

And now I feel bad.

“No. I couldn’t possibly impose, but thank you, guys, really, thank you.”

“Where will you go?” Chase asks, pinning me with his gaze.

I look around. “Where’s my phone? I’ll get a room.”

“Your phone is melted, and you said all your money and ID burned,” Eric sighs deeply. “Halle, they’re gonna let you out of the hospital tomorrow. You need somewhere to go. Just stay with us for a while until you find a new job and a new place to stay. You’re going to need to get a new ID along with any other cards you lost in that wallet. We’re more than happy to help.”

Wyatt’s eyes pop wide as he remembers something. “Hold up. Chief Holt needs a new PA. There’s a job opening.”

“Chief Holt?” I ask.

“Our chief at the fire station. Chief Ben Holt. Suzie retired about a month ago. He’s been practically derelict ever since. He’s had plenty of interviews but—”

“None of them stuck,” Eric interjects. “You know, Wyatt, you could be on to something,” he adds and smiles my way. “You should apply.”

“This is too much,” I say.

“What have you got to lose?” Chase asks.

I realize the answer is nothing. I literally have nothing left to lose.

“Only until I get my feet back on the ground,” I mumble.

“Only until then,” Eric replies with a cool grin. “You’ll have all the space and privacy you need. Our mom runs a daycare center, by the way. Worth checking it out for Luna and Sammy.”

This really is too much. I can’t process everything in one go. My eyes are getting droopy. I’m exhausted. “Thank you,” I say. “Thank you, Eric. Wyatt. Chase. I can never repay you.”

“You don’t have to,” Eric’s reply fades into the background.

I’m already drifting back to sleep, my eyelids coming down on their own.

The next morning finds me in a better mood. My shoulder and arm still hurt, but I am able to move a lot better. It will be a couple more days before I’m back at my full capacity. The doctor says I need a whole week of bandages before I can let the skin breathe, but he’s confident that the burn cream will do its thing.

Luna and Sammy are looking much better too. They’re still wearing last night’s clothes and soot from the fire, but they slept well, and they’re both too happy to be with me to even care that the three of us smell like a clogged furnace.

“I was so scared,” Luna says. She sits to my right while Sammy’s got my left hip covered, constantly caressing the top of my hand but careful not to bother the IV needle. He’s usually a Tasmanian devil, yet given the circumstances, he is so gentle, calm, and sweet.

“I know, honey. I was scared, too. But you were both so brave. I’m so proud of you.”

“Are we safe now?” Sammy asks, giving me one of his signature wide-eyed looks that melts my heart. I have no choice but to muster the most reassuring smile I can as I try to soothe his fears.

“Honey, we are absolutely safe. In fact, we’re gonna stay with those nice firemen for a while. They’re going to keep us extra safe.”

Luna gasps with excitement, tucking some of her brown curls behind one ear. “Oh, that’s so nice! Their house definitely won’t burn down!”

“Let’s hope not,” I giggle. “How are we on the hunger meter right now? Want me to call the nurse and see what they’ve got downstairs at the cafeteria?”

“Wyatt gave us Jell-O and Pop Tarts last night while you were sleeping,” Luna says.

“The breakfast of champions,” I laugh.

Sammy nods in genuine agreement. “Jell-O was good-O.”

“Good-O, huh?” I laugh again, though my shoulder stings a tad in protest.

The door suddenly opens and in walks Eric, a warm smile stretching across his lips. “Good morning, ladies and gent,” he says.

He looks so dashing in his jeans and plaid shirt, the fabric hugging his muscular figure in all the right places. His broad shoulders look even bigger wrapped in blue and black plaid, while his linebacker thighs struggle against his jeans. As soon as she sees him, Luna lights up with delight.

“Mr. Eric!” she exclaims, then jumps out of my bed and rushes to hug him.

“Come on,” he says, laughing as he scoops her up so she can give him all the love in the world. She’s the affectionate type and I love that about her. “We need to get the three of you out of here.”

“God, yes, I desperately need a shower,” I reply with a soft chuckle.

Sammy gives me a worried look but I offer a smile in return.

He knows we’re going to be okay now.

I can see it in his eyes.

The Danson brothers’ house is lovely. Big but standard for this residential neighborhood. The whole area is quiet, with cul-de-sacs and white picket fences, generous backyards, and lots of joggers darting about at every hour of the day.

“Oh, wow, it’s a mansion!” Luna exclaims as we get out of Eric’s SUV.

Eric laughs. “Not quite a mansion but you’ll have plenty of space.”

There’s a narrow stone path leading up to the front porch where a woman in her early sixties awaits in a wooden rocking chair. As soon as she sees us she springs to her feet, rushing over to give us a warm welcome with a sweet smile and a voice to match.

Almost immediately, I realize she’s Eric, Chase, and Wyatt’s mother. Wyatt has her eyes. They’re the same wild shade of green.

“I’m so glad to see the three of you safe,” she says upon reaching us. “When the boys told me what happened, it damn near broke my heart. I’m Marie, by the way. Marie Danson.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Marie,” I say, shaking her hand.

“Come on, let’s get you all inside,” Eric cuts in. “Wyatt and Chase will be back later. They’re on a shopping spree.”

I give him a confused look while Luna gingerly takes Sammy’s hand and escorts him up the front steps of the house. “Shopping spree?”

“Well, yeah,” Marie says. “That fire left you without anything. Y’all need clothes, underwear, shoes. The kids need toys. That fridge needed restocking,” she adds with a reprimanding tone as she looks at her son.

Eric laughs. “We just got out of a twenty-four-hour shift, Ma, have some mercy.”

“I had enough mercy to write a list for the boys before sending them out,” Marie replies.

“You don’t have to buy us anything,” I say, my voice barely a whisper, my protest ridiculously meek. Who am I kidding? We do need clothes and underwear and, well, everything. “You’re all too kind.”

“Hey, we’re human beings,” Marie says. “We help each other out when it gets tough. Besides, you might’ve gotten over it a lot quicker had you been on your own, Halle, but you’re not. These two angels deserve better.”

“You’re absolutely right,” I exhale sharply. “Thank you, so much.”

We walk through the front door and can’t help but marvel at the size of the house.

It’s spacious and breezy, with wide hallways and massive windows, allowing an abundance of sunshine into every room. The ground floor consists of the living room, a bathroom, the kitchen and the dining area. It’s clean and tastefully decorated, though the Danson brothers are not exactly art aficionados.

Earthy and creamy neutral tones dominate the living spaces while the kitchen features a bold, dark red backsplash against white marble countertops and a black acrylic floor. “Wyatt poured that floor in himself, ” Marie says as she gives us a quick tour of the house.

“Sammy, don’t run,” I call out but it’s too late.

He’s already far ahead of us with Luna by his side, both of them giggling while bolting left and right, checking every room in the process. Eric laughs as he shows me to my room first.

“There are five bedrooms in total,” he says. “We’ve got the three on the left side, and you and the kids get these two. Ours have ensuite bathrooms, but you can share the fourth with Luna and Sammy. Hope that’s not a problem.”

“Are you kidding? It’s sheer luxury,” I reply, in genuine awe of what I’m seeing.

My room is decorated in a neutral shade of grey. Nothing overbearing but soft and pleasing to the eye.

Sammy and Luna’s room is beige, with two twin beds sporting cream-colored bed covers and simple, linen curtains. The furniture is oak, simple but elegant. I notice the carpet right away, thick and plush enough so the kids can play on it without any concerns of them getting hurt.

“It’s going to be okay,” Eric says at one point.

I’ve been staring out the window for the better part of a minute, admiring the back garden with its neatly trimmed shrubs and flower bushes, stone-paved terrace and bistro-style seating with a hot tub and rattan lounge chairs.

“I hope so,” I reply with a heavy sigh. “It’s the quiet after the storm.”

“Don’t you mean before the storm?”

I shake my head slowly. “Well, there’s the quiet before the storm, when you know something terrible is going to happen. But then there’s the quiet after the storm, when the worst has passed, and you’re able to breathe again, wondering what you’re going to do next. The quiet of one’s thoughts, I guess. The aftermath.”

“Halle, we don’t know each other outside of the diner,” Eric begins, standing an inch too close. His cologne fills my lungs with a delightful fragrance of lemon blossoms and sea salt. I could breathe all of him in. “But from what I’ve seen so far, I can tell you one thing with certainty. You’ve got a strong spirit. You’re gonna pull through all of this. By this time next year, you’re gonna look back and laugh about it.”

“You’re giving me way too much credit,” I reply with a half-smile.

“No, I’m not. I can see it in Luna and Sammy. They’re strong and resilient kids. They had to get that from someone.”

I give him a long, curious look. “I’ve had my ups and downs, Eric. And right now, I’d say I’m at rock bottom.”

“But you’re still smiling and making the right decision for your children,” he says. “It speaks volumes.”

I’m about to thank him for the umpteenth time when Marie joins us in my room. “The kids are getting settled in their space, exploring every shelf and drawer,” she laughs.

I take a moment to really look at this woman. She’s petite and plump, with strawberry blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail and a penchant for flared jeans and hippie-style shirts. Everything about Marie screams, “the world’s greatest grandma.” The kind of matriarch who is soft but stern when she needs to be. I can tell she’s the type of woman who will make sure you keep your nose clean but won’t tell you about the crazy stuff she used to do when she was your age. I like her. She seems genuine and kind.

“Good. They’ll be sleeping like logs later tonight,” I chuckle.

“Did Eric tell you about the daycare?” she asks.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“The offer stands,” Marie says, and Eric nods in agreement.

“You should consider it, Halle.”

“I will, thank you.”

Marie gives me a warm smile. “I know you’re a tad apprehensive. We don’t know each other and I get it. But here’s my card,” she says and hands me a business card. “The daycare’s website has more details. Have a look, think about it, and when you’re ready, just let me know. I’ll make sure the kids have their slots allocated. Free of charge, mind you.”

“Oh, Marie, free of charge? That’s too much,” I protest albeit meekly again.

She shakes her head and laughs lightly. “Halle, once you can afford to pay for their daycare, I’ll gladly direct you to our payment portal. Until then, don’t worry about it.”

“I’ve never seen so much kindness in the span of… what, twenty-four hours?” I mumble, giving Eric a wondering look. “You people are amazing.”

“Like Mom said, we’re human beings. We help each other out,” he replies with a casual shrug. All I can do is smile, humbled by their good hearts.

Had I met people like the Dansons before, maybe my life would’ve turned out differently. But I will absolutely do my due diligence before I send Luna and Sammy to Marie’s daycare. It’s not that I don’t trust her; it’s that I don’t trust anybody.

Colby did quite the number on my decision-making abilities, and I’m still reeling from the mountains of self-doubt that he left me with. But for now, I’ll thank the heavens for thrusting me upon the path of these folks.

I’d have been lost without them.

As the evening settles in, I put Sammy and Luna to sleep in their room. We’re all squeaky clean, smelling like fresh apples and cinnamon, courtesy of a deliciously fragranced shower gel that Wyatt left in our bathroom, along with a bunch of other toiletries and cosmetics. That list Marie gave them had to have been a foot-long, at least, because we’ve got a little bit of everything.

I head downstairs once the kids are asleep and fire up Eric’s laptop. He set up a guest account for me to use to check my emails, contact my bank and the DMV for a new ID, and to look for jobs in case the firehouse gig doesn’t pan out.

Wyatt said that Holt is exceptionally picky about choosing his new PA because he was so fond of and used to Suzy, and he still hasn’t gotten over the fact that she retired before him.

The first thing I do is look up Marie’s daycare. My shoulder is starting to itch underneath these bandages. I’m going to have to change them later. “Focus,” I mutter to myself, then take a long sip of my jasmine tea and proceed to scroll through the daycare’s website. I notice they have public records and I follow the link, going over every report with an eagle eye.

Outside, the darkness settles quietly over the back garden, the night lights coming on, one after the other. The house itself is warm and cozy.

I honestly think we’re going to be okay.

“Still awake?” Eric’s voice has me jumping out of my chair. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I didn’t hear you come in,” I gasp, trying to catch my breath. I end up belting out a nervous laugh as I stand awkwardly beside the counter, slapping the laptop shut so he won’t see the amount of detective work I’m willing to do on his mom in order to make sure my kids are safe. “I thought you were fast asleep already.”

“Almost, but then I got snacky,” Eric chuckles and heads straight for the fridge.

Only now do I notice how scantily dressed he is in shorts and a tight white tank top, and I’m getting a generous view of his muscle design from where I stand. I swallow back a ball of nerves, ogling the man with impunity while he’s not looking. He settles for a Greek yogurt, then comes over to the counter, offering me some.

“No, thanks, I’m okay. I ate half of your fridge earlier,” I say with a shy smile.

“You’re looking better,” he replies.

“Well-rested. That’s the word you were going for, right?”

Eric laughs again. “It’s amazing what good quality sleep and proper food will do to your system. Oh, by the way, I spoke to Mrs. Langston, your boss at the diner. She was devastated, of course. She’s back in Dallas and wanted me to let you know that you’ll still have a job once the place is rebuilt, if you want it. It’s gonna take a while, though.”

“She’s sweet.”

“You’re sweeter,” he shoots back so fast, I barely register it.

I stare at him for a hot second. “Thank you.”

“I’m gonna miss coming in for breakfast and a coffee. You were the highlight of my day after a long shift,” Eric says, never taking his eyes off me while he plows through his yogurt.

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere, mister,” I giggle, but I can feel a fire spreading from my cheeks all the way down to my core.

Eric was always the sweet guy who lit up the whole room, my gaze finding him no matter where I was in the restaurant. It didn’t matter if I was serving five or six other tables. I’d never shy away from stealing a glance at him, and he would often gladly reciprocate. Now that I’m safely—and unexpectedly—under his roof, I guess he feels more comfortable around me. I certainly feel more comfortable around him.

I’m not sure when this emotional transition happened, but I’m fine to follow the flow. After almost dying in that fire, I reckon any one of life’s moments can turn into an opportunity, any chance taken into the adventure of a lifetime.

“I’m really glad you’re okay,” Eric says quietly. “When I saw you up there, the flames burning all around you… I have to admit, it rattled me.”

“But you went up the ladder anyway and saved us. You’re a hero,” I reply, my voice slightly trembling.

“I didn’t like the idea of a world without you in it.”

Whoa. His words are so kind, so heartfelt. And they’re having quite the effect on me because my knees are getting weaker with every breath that I take. When did this happen? Was I not paying attention back at the diner? Was I too busy drooling over this hunk of a man to notice that he, too, was developing an attraction toward me?

“I’m just sorry I wasn’t awake for the whole thing. You know, me holding on to you for dear life, you, the dashing firefighter, carrying me out of the flames. They make movies and write books about that kind of stuff, ya know,” I chuckle.

Eric gets up and comes around the counter.

“What are you doing?”

“Hold on to me for dear life,” he says, his arms out, biceps and shoulders bulking and eager to hold me while a playful twinkle dances in his eyes, a smile spreading across his lips.

“Wait, what?”

He scoops me up off my feet. I’m weightless in his arms. This man is something else, and I can’t help but giggle like a flushed teenager as I put my arms around his neck. “Like this, right?” I ask, jokingly.

“Is this how you hold on for dear life? Try harder,” he says.

I tighten my grip and it brings me closer to his face, closer to his lips.

Time stands still, his fingers digging into my flesh. I breathe him in. Our eyes are locked on one another and I forget to breathe.

“Like this?” I ask again, quieter this time.

He kisses me then, and every emotion that I’ve held back, every thought and dirty idea, every sinful figment of my imagination, it all unravels like a ball of yarn as Eric’s mouth commands me into submission.

I moan against his lips, our tongues clashing and swirling in heated conflict.

I slide from his arms and lean into him while he hugs me tightly against his chest, deepening the kiss. I keep my arms locked around his neck, my breasts pressed into his rippling pecs. His hot breath tickles my lips, his taste making me drunk and hazy.

We’ve lost control. It’s sheer madness yet neither one of us can find the strength to stop.

“Oh, wow,” I mumble as I take a deep breath. I don’t know how I managed to pull back, but I did. My body is close to melting, my throat dry and my core tingling. Liquid heat has already pooled between my legs, and I don’t know what to do with myself. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m not,” Eric replies with a cool grin. His breath is ragged, his chest rising with every inhale. “In fact, I’m down for round two. I think we can do better.”

“Oh no, this is wrong,” I manage, panic rushing to take over and ruin everything. “No, you’ve been nothing but kind and welcoming, helpful and… no, I can’t. I don’t want you thinking that I’m taking advantage.”

“Halle, wait—”

It’s too late. I’m already rushing up the stairs and straight to my room, my heart thudding painfully in the merciless clutches of anxiety. Where did the bubble burst, exactly? Have we been struggling with this sexual tension from the moment we met?

It doesn’t even matter.

I’ve got two kids to take care of, an abusive ex-husband to keep hiding from, and a new life to rebuild from the ground up. Again. I don’t have the energy or the bandwidth for something like this. And even if I do let Eric in, the day will inevitably come when I will have to take Luna and Sammy, and leave. It’ll be better and safer for everyone. Colby has a way of always finding me, of hunting me down and haunting me.

I need to focus.