When We Are Enough (Valiant Hearts #1)

17. Patrick

Chapter 17

Patrick

T he street is alive with the sound of hammering, and the buzz of volunteers and fire crew moving swiftly from house to house. We’re all here with one goal: to secure these homes and businesses against the hurricane. Despite how much we still need to do, my mind is relentlessly elsewhere.

Sheets of plywood are measured, cut, and secured, Emmy thrashing through my thoughts the entire time. The heat of her skin, the taste of her mouth, the feel of her body crushed against mine… the sheer craziness of it all.

I keep circling back to it, replaying it. I’m angry with myself for letting it happen, for the lapse in self-discipline, and yet, I can’t stop picturing that kiss, half turned on and completely thrown off balance, like the ground has shifted and keeps shifting before I can properly get my footing.

Pretty isn’t the word for Emmy. She’s so pretty it’s fucking impossible to not look at her, and I can’t stop. I want to memorize every detail of her: soft, honey-blonde waves. Expressive hazel eyes that sometimes look green, sometimes darker, hinting at a depth I can’t quite decipher .

She’s got that classic girl-next-door vibe, effortlessly gorgeous even in jeans and a t-shirt, wearing no makeup and her hair pulled back. When she smiles, it’s like the whole world gets rendered in technicolor. She’s just... beautiful.

And her body—long legs, small waist, a softness to her ass and boobs. I’m getting hard just thinking about her, the way she pushed herself against me, like she wanted me just as bad. Too late, I realize I’ve frozen in place, hammer raised, staring off into the distance. One of the volunteers is looking at me, and I give her a smile before getting back to work.

I’ve always been the steadfast one, the rock for my family and friends, the one everyone depends on, especially in times like this. But now, hammering another nail into the plywood, securing another window, I’m pretty much working overtime to get back my self-control, and I’m anything but steady.

And when I’m not focused, that’s when people get hurt. There’s never an excuse to drop the ball. I have to get Emmy Brooks out of my head.

Which means the mindless work is honestly the last fucking thing I need today. It doesn’t help; it doesn’t distract me enough from her. And the truth gnaws at me—I’m not sure I can trust myself around her again.

She’s in the bedroom next door, we shower in the same bathroom. She’s going to be on the other side of a thin wall, just several feet from where I sleep. The worst part? Something deep down tells me Emmy might feel the same way.

The girls already love her, of course. And what’s not to love? Both Riley and Nora have separately texted me to tell me how great she is, how lucky for Granny Sloane’s sake that the first nurse we hired was just so damned perfect.

And they’re right.

If we’re alone together, if Emmy kisses me again, I won’t be able to stop myself. It’s not like I’m some saint. But I never get involved with someone who needs more from me than I’m able to give. And Emmy deserves the world.

I glance down the street, checking on how much plywood we have left, half expecting to see her, caught between dread and hope. I need to manage these feelings, keep them from spilling over and affecting me. People are relying on me to be at my best, now more than ever.

Emmy’s not here, of course. She’s safe at home with Granny Sloane. I called three times already to check on them, and Granny Sloane is starting to get annoyed. I haven’t told her what happened to Emmy—something tells me she’d rather fewer people know, and if she wants to tell Granny Sloane, that’s up to her.

I went to speak to the sheriff, though. He made a report and told the guys in the precinct to keep an eye out, but beyond that, there’s not much we can do. My hand tightens around the hammer, a surge of rage blindsiding me. The thought of anything happening to Emmy at the hand of some piece of shit leaves me literally seeing red.

“Should the volunteers start on the sand bags now?” Antonio is standing behind me, his words snapping me back to reality.

Checking my watch, I realize it’s already late afternoon. But we can’t afford to waste any time, not with the storm on the horizon. “Yeah, let’s get them started on that,” I reply. “Thanks, mate.”

Antonio nods and turns to relay the message to the volunteers, while I take a moment to look over the crowd. The turnout has been impressive. Jake’s efforts the night before, sending out texts and emails, really paid off—more than a hundred locals showed up ready to help, with promises from others in the coming days.

Just as I’m about to pick up my hammer again, the sound of loud music rolling down the street catches everyone’s attention. A familiar pickup truck pulls up, Ethan’s music blaring from the speakers. A moment later, the music comes to an abrupt stop and Ethan and Liam jump out with Ethan’s dog, a Blue Heeler called Bandit, both looking completely oblivious to the urgency and tension that’s gripped the rest of us, their smiling faces jarringly out of place.

As they slam the truck doors and head over, my hammer goes down with a clatter and I’m striding toward them. Liam’s acting so unconcerned when everyone else is working hard to protect the town, and anger splices through me. When is he going to grow up? He’s twenty-five, for fuck’s sake, not five .

“Liam, Ethan,” I call out, my voice rising over the noise of the volunteers and my crew.

They look up, surprised by my tone, and the easy smiles drop from their faces. As usual, I’m the one holding things together, while they’ve been God knows where, no doubt doing something stupid trying to make a buck.

As I close the distance between us, I try to tamp down the churn of emotions. There’s a lot to say, questions about where they’ve been and why they both missed the Valiant Hearts meeting, but more than anything, there’s an overwhelming need to get Liam back on track, away from Ethan.

The volunteers bustle around us as we come face to face, trying not to stare, but it’s obvious they’re all watching us. Every muscle in my body is tensing, a rigid line of controlled anger. My gaze settles on Liam. “Where were you last night?”

My voice is even for the benefit of those around us, but Liam eyes me warily before his posture stiffens, his expression closing off as he instantly goes on the defensive. We’ve been down this road before.

“We got a good offer to keep the charter boat out overnight. My phone died, Patrick. It’s not like we planned it.”

“It’s not good enough, Liam,” I reply sharply. “You must have known about the hurricane, it’s all over the news. You and Ethan missed the Valiant Hearts planning session when we needed everyone there. Even if you didn’t get my messages, you must have known that we all needed to talk.”

“I told you, my phone died.”

“And no one on board had a charger or a phone you could borrow?”

In the corner of my eye, Ethan leans against their truck, a casual observer. His black, curly hair is still salt-crusted from the ocean, his gray eyes pale against his deep tan. He pulls out his vape, expression unreadable as he takes a long inhale, his dog sitting by his side.

“Ease up, man.” He exhales a stream of smoke. “It was a solid gig. And we’re here now.”

His nonchalance ignites a fiercer anger in me, the flame of my temper flaring hot and bright. I’m dangerously close to telling him everything that’s burning at the back of my throat: how I hate that he was so unaffected by what happened to Danny, how he’s living in a fairytale most of the time, with no idea how hard the real world is. And how I want him to keep the hell away from Liam.

But then the reality of our situation reels me back. Around us, people are relying on me to lead, to stay focused, and several of the older women, including Dot McLellan, are gawking at us. It’s not a good look for the fire chief to lay into anyone, especially with an audience.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, my anger gets pulled in, tamped down. There’s a job to do, and I need to make sure it gets done.

My gaze lingers on Liam and Ethan in turn, my voice firm. “We have a hurricane coming. It’s due to make landfall in three days, and we might need to start evacuations by tomorrow. I need you both to get to work. Now .”

Liam looks away, frustrated, but he knows the seriousness of the situation. Ethan takes another drag of his vape but nods. As they head toward the group of volunteers to join the efforts, I watch them for a moment longer, ensuring they’re actually getting involved.

Anger continues to simmer beneath the surface, but for now, it’s overshadowed by all the other shit going on. My role as fire chief and leader of the Valiant hearts, someone who others depend on, steadies me. It has to.

There’s no space for mistakes, no space for anything other than the work ahead of us.