Eric looked over at Hank, then down at the whiskey in his hand. Here he was at almost midnight on a Friday night drinking and looking pathetic enough that Hank, of all people, was on the brink of offering him advice.
Jesus.
He was a rock-and-roll man, but his life had turned into a country song. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.
“Hey, Joe, hit me again.” Hank pushed his soda glass across the bar as if it were a shot glass.
“The bar’s closed, Hank. We’ll see you tomorrow.”
Hank got down from his bar stool, pointing to Eric with a sideways jab of his thumb. “Why doesn’t he have to leave?”
Joe cleared Hank’s glass. “He’s not done with his drink, is he?”
“I guess not.” Hank shuffled off, clearly pissed at being told to go.
Eric tossed back the rest of his drink, set the glass down on the bar. “Since you haven’t kicked me out, can I have another?”
“Nope.” Joe took his glass, then pulled his cell phone from his pocket to read a message. “You’ve had enough.”
“Oh, come on. Two shots won’t even put me over the legal limit.”
“Exactly.” Joe leveled his gaze at Eric. “That’s why we’ll stop at two. We need a sober fire chief.”
Eric knew Joe was right. He needed to be able to respond in case the Team got called out tonight—or something crazy happened at the firehouse. In his profession, he just didn’t have the luxury of getting shitfaced.
He got to his feet. “Well, goodnight.”
“Sit down.” Joe’s tone was so stern that Eric’s ass hit his seat immediately. “I know what’s eating you, but I don’t think you have to worry. Victoria loves you.”
Perhaps Eric had had too much to drink after all. That would explain why he started babbling. “I’m trying to give her the time she needs, but this is harder than I thought it would be. I love her and want to be with her. I don’t understand why she’s not here if she loves me.”
Joe looked over Eric’s shoulder and smiled.
“Iamhere.”
Eric got to his feet so fast that he knocked his chair over. “Vicki?”
“Hi.” She stood there, looking like a dream in a short black dress, purple fleece jacket, and heels. Then she was in his arms.
He held her tight, some part of him wondering if he was drunk or dreaming or just out of his damned mind. “Vicki. Jesus. I can’t believe you’re here.”
“God, Eric, I missed you so much.”
“I missed you, too.” He ended the hug without letting go of her, his mind racing with questions. “I thought you had to go to some kind of dinner with your boss.”
“I quit.”
“You …what?”
Words spilled out of her. “I went to the dinner because I really had no choice, but I felt so out of place. The view from the penthouse didn’t even matter to me, and these two interns started talking behind my back. One said I was a bitch, and the other said my boobs were fake, and then it just hit me. I don’t belong there anymore. I belong here in Scarlet with you. So I quit my job and bought a plane ticket and called Joe. I wanted to surprise you, but he couldn’t pick me up, so he called the Team, and Sasha and Nicole came to get me.”
Her words came out so fast that most of what she’d said went over his head—except for the most important part. She’d come back to him. “You’ve decided you belong here now?”
“If you still want m—”
He cut the question short, answering it with a long, hard kiss, blown away by the goodness of just being near her, the weight of missing her and worrying that she might not come back lifted off his shoulders so suddenly that he was floating. He only stopped kissing her when he heard laughter.
He and Victoria looked toward the bar and saw Joe, Rico, and Rain standing there, together with Sasha and Nicole, who waved at him.