It's all delicious, and as I'm chewing a mouthful of tomato and avocado drizzled with olive oil and lemon juice, I realize that this is the first time that I've ever had a meal prepared for me by a man.
Long may it continue.
The boys fill Holden in on a minor fire they attended at a ranch outside of town. A cigarette was carelessly discarded and set some dry grass ablaze. The owner of the property had been very apologetic. "We're seeing more of these avoidable fires recently."
"It's always that way in summer," Holden says. "Ground is dryer, and people's heads are affected by the heat."
"Do you like what you do?" I ask. There is no way I'd ever have chosen a career that put my life in danger.
A strange look passes between them as though none of them are sure how to answer. "Someone has to do it," Kane says in the end. "If we didn't have the fire service, more people would die unnecessarily."
"But don't firefighters die too?"
"You worried about us, Connie?" Harris asks, trying to make light of the conversation.
"Of course, I am," I say. "Wouldn't you be if I was potentially running into hazardous situations daily?"
"We know what we're doing," Karter says gently, reaching out to take my hand. "We've been doing this job for long enough to be able to judge what is safe and what isn't."
"But you're not the kind of guys to leave anyone behind," I say. "You're the kind to put yourselves in danger for the sake of others." I lower my knife and fork, looking around at them seriously. "I want you to remember that I'm here, waiting for you to come home. When you're considering what to do in a crisis, just remember that if anything happens to you, my heart will break."
Karter squeezes my hand as another look passes between them all. Were they not expecting me to be this passionate, to feel this deep?
If they didn't know how invested my heart is in this relationship, they do now.
"We're always careful. You sound a little like our dad."
"Yeah, he's always telling us that he can't lose..." Harris stops mid-flow.
"That he doesn't want to lose any of us," Holden says. "His favorite saying is, 'A father shouldn't have to bury a child.’"
"And we keep reminding him that we're not children anymore."
"You'll always be his little boys," I say softly. The idea of Blake having a heart seems strange, but I guess he must have a decent one buried under all of that arrogance. He raised these good men after all.
"Have you met our dad?" Holden chuckles wryly as though my sentiment is misplaced.
"I have had the pleasure of a conversation with him." I decide not to elaborate, and the boys raise their eyebrows with interest.
Kane leans back in his seat, stretching his arms into the air and then placing his hands behind his head. His shirt rises, exposing an inch of tan skin hugging the ladder of muscles across his abdomen. For a moment, I lose track of the conversation. "Dad likes women," he says lazily. "It's his sons that he's had trouble with."
"Trouble?"
The evening breeze blows the scent of flowers across the yard, and I watch as Kane seems to wrestle over what to say next. "Trouble letting us be who we want to be."
"Sounds like my dad." I shrug, but it isn't a topic that I will ever hold lightly. His disapproval eats away inside me.
"Maybe it's a universal dad thing." Karter's watchful eyes flick between his twin and me, ever concerned about the people around him.
This sounds like it's a topic that holds a lot of hurt for them too. I wish I could help them, offer some words of wisdom, but I don't have any. If I did, I would have used them on myself a long time ago.
"It's our family way," Holden says. "Conrad was the same with Mason, Miller, and Max. He had his own plan for them. They had to fight tooth and nail to steer their own ships."
"It seems you've done that too," I remind them.
"But our dad hasn't accepted our decision. He's still pushing for us to join the family business. He wants us to use our college education for something more than arguing with nature, as he puts it."
"Wow. That's dismissive." Shaking my head, I take a swig of my cool beer, which runs down my throat like a trickle of liquid ice. All this dad talk is reminding me that mine has no idea about the choices I'm making. If he did, I wouldn't be here. Maybe it's better that we put this conversation to rest. I have a feeling that my boys wouldn't like it if they knew I've run away from my life without sharing my plans with anyone except Natalie. "How about you tell me the good places to go in this town," I say, hoping to distract them.