I don’t know how long we stand by the door. The firefighter supports me as I cling desperately to his strong frame, sinking into my grief, his hold steady and unyielding. He doesn’t let me go, not until I reluctantly pull away to look up at him.
‘Sorry,’ I mumble, giving him a weak watery smile, feeling the tinge of embarassment as I try to stop my cheeks from heating. ‘Everything is a bit of a mess right now . . . I doubt this is how you envisioned your New Year going.’
Ryker’s expression is solemn as he looks at me. ‘Actually, this is exactly how I hoped my New Year would be,’ he replies softly.
He takes my hand, the callouses on his palm a blunt contrast to my own. He leads me toward the couch where he helps me out of my coat. He places it on the coffee table before perching on the e
