Should Have Been Me – Chapter 12 (Rewrite)

Author's Note: Sorry it took so long to update, but since I'm posting two chapters, I hope I can be forgiven. I am hard at work on Chapter 14 and hope to have it finished and beta'd and posted before I leave for vacation on June 5 (not to return until June 13), but if I don't, it won't be for lack of trying.

To my fabulous beta, Pace Fan, once again, your comments and suggested edits have done wonders for these chapters. *Big virtual hug*

To everyone who reviewed the previous chapters: You know who you are and how much I love you. Enjoy!

Slam! Clang!

"Don't you just love that sound?" said a familiar voice.

Trent spun around to see his older brother, Collin, standing behind him in the men's locker room, smiling like he'd just won the lottery.

"Nothin' says you made it through another shift like the slamming of a couple dozen locker doors," Collin continued. The sound he spoke of echoed through the crowded locker room, as did the other sounds associated with shift-change at the fire station, running showers, buzzing razors, jingling belt buckles and the low rumble of male conversation.

"Hey, brother, what brings you to my station? You don't have enough fires to fight up in Celina?" Trent teased as he grasped Collin's right hand in his and pulled him into a one-armed hug, complete with mutual backslapping.

"See, I told you he'd forget. Good thing we came down here to get him." Sean Donnelly, the first born, always did know how to darken a room, but his sense of humor had all but completely vanished since their mother's death last winter.

"Hello, Sean," Trent greeted the older, taller man who had to squeeze past Collin to shake his youngest brother's hand. There was no levity in the moment whatsoever.

"Forget what?" Trent asked sheepishly, dreading the exasperated look he knew was coming. If the usual pattern held, the look would be followed immediately by a peacekeeping attempt by Collin. As the middle child, he was the self-appointed family arbitrator.

"Mom's headstone? Remember? Dad said he told you we were going to drive up to Sherman tonight to inspect it before we authorize delivery. We're sure as hell not paying them to deliver another one with half the words misspelled." Sean produced 'the look'. Some things never changed.

"Yeah, who would have thought 'Mary Ann Donnelly, beloved wife and mother', would be such a challenge?" Collin tossed in right on schedule, trying in vain to lighten the mood.

"How many of us does it take to do a spell check?" Trent mumbled under his breath as he stripped off his black uniform pants and stuffed them into the open duffel bag on the bench beside him. His white uniform shirt was already in the bag, which also held his uniforms from the previous three shifts this week.

"I suppose you have something more important to do than seeing to it that our mother's final resting place honors her appropriately?" Sean had learned the art of inflicting guilt from the master, but he couldn't do it with her style.

Mary Donnelly had a special talent for getting the Donnelly men – including his dad - and their baby sister, Kathleen, to do her bidding without ever actually asking them directly. Instead, she pointed out all the ways she would suffer if the chores didn't get done or if she had to do them herself. Then she stood back and let their inborn need to please their mama do the rest. She always made it sound purely practical, never mean or whiny—or sarcastic, like Sean.

The truth was Trent did have to talk to Callie before she went on her date with Ranger Gage. He had planned to do it in person, since he had a surprise for her. If push came to shove, however, he could tell her about it over the phone, but Sean didn't have to know that.

"As a matter of fact, there is something I have to do, but it should only take me about an hour, maybe less. I'll meet you at the ranch. I assume Dad and Kathleen are coming with us?" Trent offered.

"Well, it's almost six-thirty now. Pearson's, the stone carver, closes at nine o'clock. It's an hour's drive from the ranch to Pearson's and Dad was hoping we could all have dinner at the main house before we left. Olivia made Mom's pot roast and Jenna baked cherry pie for dessert," Sean stated. He knew Trent had a weakness for his wife's cooking and Collin's new bride made the best cherry pie in three counties.

While Sean laid out the evening's agenda and menu, Trent dressed in jeans and a black T-shirt.

"Sean, you know I would rather not miss either of those culinary delights," he said as he pulled on his well-worn cowboy boots, "but it can't be helped. I have to see somebody in the West End. It should only take a few minutes. I can be in Celina no later than seven-thirty, I swear." Trent held up his right hand, but crossed the fingers of his left hand behind his back. He'd be pushing it to get to the ranch by seven forty-five, maybe even eight o'clock. So what else was new? Trent seemed to make a career out of disappointing his family, a fact Sean never failed to point out whenever the opportunity presented itself.

"If you say so. Don't be late, Trent. You don't want to upset Dad. He's got enough to worry about."

"I know, Sean. I talk to him everyday, too. Just because I don't live at the D-Five doesn't mean I don't keep up with what's going on," Trent shot back, slinging the duffel bag over his shoulder. The tension mounted as the three Donnelly men exited the locker room and headed for the station's front door.

"So, what's in the West End, little brother? You got a date?" Collin put in. Peacekeeping was Collin's special calling, but matchmaking ran a close second. Since he and Jenna got married two months ago, Collin had been on a mission to find Trent a wife. Trent knew it was just a manifestation of his brother's natural optimism; he believed everyone should be as happy as he was. But to Trent, Collin's enthusiasm on this subject was beginning to wear thin.

Of course, it didn't help that Trent couldn't tell any of them about Callie. Sean and Collin were both firefighters with the Celina Fire Department. Their dad, Casey, was weeks away from retiring after thirty years as an arson investigator with the Dallas Fire Department. All three boys had grown up in and around fire stations and were well aware of the department's most sacred unwritten rule.

"Oh, sure, man, I'm gonna show the lady a real nice time inside of ten minutes, or maybe I could bring her back to the homestead with me so she can join us to go look at a gravestone? Of course, I don't have a date, you knucklehead!" Trent chastised him, grabbing Collin around the neck, pulling his head down and rapping him soundly on the noggin with his knuckles. "Just because you love being married and spend every waking minute trying to get Jenna pregnant, doesn't mean I'm ready for the old ball and chain and a passel of rug rats."

"So, what are you doing down there? It hardly seems worth the trip for just a few minutes," Sean probed. Translation: You better have a really good reason for upsetting Dad.

"I'm looking at a motorcycle Callie's cousin in selling. He works down there and he's got another buyer who's interested, so I want to get a look at it sooner rather than later," Trent lied. "If it's really what I'm looking for, I can give the guy a deposit and he'll tell the other guy no dice." Since Trent and his dad shared a love of all things Harley-Davidson, this story practically gave him carte blanche.

Sean glared at him. Trent had the good sense to suppress the smirk he felt tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Where is Callie? She light out early today?" Collin asked as they approached his dark green SUV.

"Guess so. She mentioned she had a date tonight," Trent replied casually. Actually, he knew exactly when she left and where she was going. As soon as he ditched his family, he was going to drive like hell to catch up with her so they could talk before she was supposed to meet Gage.

"Lucky fella, her date. That girl's got more looks than any one woman has a right to, and guts, too," Collin mused.

"Oh, you don't have to sing her praises to Trent, does he, little brother?" Sean shot Trent a sidelong glance that made his heart skip a beat. Had Sean found out about him and Callie? No, Sean was about as subtle as a runaway train, especially when he was angry. If he even suspected that Trent was sleeping with his partner, he wouldn't be dropping hints. He'd have come at him head-on.

"That's right, big brother, I know I couldn't ask for a better partner," Trent confirmed. Silently, he added, at work, in bed, or anywhere else.

Collin and Sean climbed into the SUV and Trent turned to go, his thoughts already racing ahead to how he was going to tell Callie about his surprise.

"See you about seven-thirty, then," Collin called as he closed the driver's door. Trent turned back, waved and watched them drive away before sprinting across the parking lot to his truck.

-----

He caught sight of her car just as it entered the parking garage. He had hoped she would take her time getting ready before coming here to meet Gage. She must have done so, because he had arrived here ahead of her by about five minutes. Parked along the far wall of the garage, Trent watched as she cruised the lot looking for a space.

He saw that her hair was not in its usual French braid and the mild jealousy he'd been feeling ever since Callie and Gage met ratcheted up a notch. He didn't like it that she got dressed up and let her hair down for him.

Unbidden, a memory flashed into his head of the first time he'd seen her out of uniform. It all started with an accidental glimpse of her underwear…

He was on his way to the station's main ambulance bay when, just as he passed the women's locker room, an EMT named Margie Donahue flung the door open and stepped out. Startled by Margie's sudden appearance in his path, he glanced up. Before the door could swing shut, he caught sight of Callie crossing the room wearing only a lacy lavender bra and a pair of matching bikini panties, her long blond hair draping down her back.

He did an about-face so fast his neck nearly snapped, but it was too late. The image was burned into his soul. The sight of that bra lifted his arousal and separated him from his common sense. And nothing was ever the same again…

The 'beep' of a car alarm being set brought him out of his reverie. For a second, he panicked thinking he'd missed Callie while he was daydreaming, but a quick scan of the lot revealed her car still circling the rows nearest the entrance. Wanting to remain out of sight for the time being, he settled back against the seat and relived the chain of events that led from that fateful day to this.

He had tried to focus on her knowledge and skills as an EMT, her quick thinking, and her bravery, anything but what a fabulous body she had and how much he wanted to explore every glorious inch of it.

When that didn't work, he thought maybe he could purge the fantasy from his mind if he let it play out to its natural conclusion. He got as far as envisioning Callie in lavender lace and a pair of black, patent leather stiletto heels. Big mistake.

His next tactic was to treat her like the enemy. He spoke to her only when necessary, refused to be alone with her anywhere other than the rig and generally behaved as though he wished she were anywhere but with him. He almost hoped she'd get tired of the abuse he hated heaping on her and ask to be reassigned. As much as he didn't really want to lose her as a partner, if she left, at least he could stop feeling like a heel all the time.

Then, one day on the way back to the station from the hospital, she cracked…

From the corner of his eye, he could see that she wanted to say something to him. She opened her mouth, closed it again. A determined look came into her eyes, like she had made up her mind to do something against her better judgment.

Before she could start to speak, he set his jaw and sighed heavily, a clear indication that he didn't want to hear whatever it was she wanted to say.

Her determination crumbled along with her face. She broke down and wept.

"What is wrong with you?" she sobbed. "What is wrong with me that makes you hate me so much? What did I do? Please just tell me, because I can't stand this anymore!"

Every word of her tirade felt like a blow to his gut. He was shaking all over, but he managed to pull the rig over to the curb without hitting anything. He got out, stalked around to her side, yanked open her door, unlatched her seat belt and hauled her out onto the sidewalk. He wondered if she might knock him on his butt for manhandling her like that, but instead she let him lead her into a narrow walkway between two storefronts. He turned around and glared down at her.

"I can't stand it anymore either!" he ground out as he crushed his lips over hers. He didn't let up until he felt her lips soften and yield to his desperate kiss. Her next move rocked him to the core; she shoved him up against the brick wall and kissed him back like she'd die if she didn't.

"Oh, God, Trent, I've wanted to do that for so long!" she confessed as she clung to him, trembling with desire.

"You have? I've been in agony for weeks, ever since I saw that purple bra," he bit off as he plundered her neck with his lips…

How they had managed to finish the shift that day without giving themselves away, he still had no idea, but they did. They had agreed to meet at a motel after work, to 'discuss their options' for how to handle what was now an undeniable, mutual attraction. Who was he kidding? It was the hottest, most mind-blowing 'discussion' of his entire life and he knew even then he had only one option—to never, ever let her go.

Looking out into the parking lot again, he saw the brake lights on Callie's car wink off as she settled the vehicle into a space three rows in front of him. He quietly slipped out of the truck, gently latched the door and quickly made his way toward her, careful to stay ducked down below the roofs of the parked cars.

-----

The tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood at attention. Callie could feel someone following her as she walked away from her car in the parking garage downtown. Unseen, unheard, whomever it was on her trail moved with the stealth of a jungle cat hunting its prey.

Before she could turn around, strong arms grabbed her from behind, slamming her up against a lean, muscular body. A hand clamped over her mouth to muffle her screams. She would have bitten a chunk out of his palm if she hadn't recognized his aftershave.

He whirled her around to face him, moving his hand at the last second before his lips pressed into hers. She gasped, giving him all the room he needed to sweep his tongue into her mouth. Her heart rate launched into the stratosphere. She wound her arms around his neck. He half-dragged, half-walked her deeper into the shadows of the garage, all without once breaking the kiss.

Well-hidden from the main parking area by a wide concrete pillar, he continued to kiss her until she slid her hands down his chest and tried to push him away.

"Good Lord, Trent! If I hadn't recognized your aftershave, I'd have taken a bite out of you!" Callie chastised him once he'd backed off a little.

"Uh, honey, I hate to break this to you, but I'm not the only guy in town who wears this stuff. I'm glad you didn't bite me, but you might want to use more than your nose to identify an attacker," he admonished her, "even if it is the cutest nose in Christendom."

To emphasize his point, he rubbed his nose against hers, Eskimo-style.

"Blind, deaf, dumb and wearing nose plugs, I would know the feel of your arms around me, your hands touching me and, most familiar of all, your lips kissing me any day of the week. And don't you forget it."

He smiled down at her. "Actually, I came here just now to make sure you don't forget it."

"Why Trent Donnelly, you don't mean to tell me that you are actually jealous of Ranger Gage now, do you?" she said in her best Scarlet O'Hara impersonation.

"Well, yes, a little. I saw how you two cozied up to one another at the hospital the other day. I think he really has the hots for you," Trent stated without a shred of sarcasm.

"You're projecting, cowboy. Just because you can't keep your hands off me, doesn't mean every man east of Fort Worth wants to jump my bones. Gage is just a friend."

Callie hesitated, remembering her decision to keep the particulars of her history with Gage to herself. Then she decided that the last thing the two of them needed was to keep any more secrets.

The clandestine nature of their relationship was already threatening her dream of someday marrying Trent and having his children. Well, she supposed, they could get married secretly – perhaps in Mexico, without rings – and add another layer of lies to the pile, but children had a way of making themselves evident. She knew herself well enough to know that she wouldn't want one without the other, so it was better to not have either. At least, that's what she told herself when she woke up in the middle of the night, alone, aching to feel him next to her, desperate to feel his baby growing inside her.

Of course, she hadn't shared any of her longings with him. She didn't see the point. He had never mentioned marriage or children, other than to say that he didn't appreciate his brothers harassing him about starting a family. When their relationship went from professional to personal, he had pointedly asked her if she was on the Pill and was more than a little relieved when she said she was. She took that to mean that if he did want children, he certainly didn't want them right now. She didn't want to think about the possibility that he might not want them at all – or with her.

No, she was keeping enough secrets; it was time for a little truth. Besides, Trent had told her the truth about being jealous of Gage. She owed it to him to tell him the whole story.

"He's a very old friend, in fact. The other night when his sister coded and he called me to come to the hospital, we realized that the reason we felt like we knew each other was because we did. We met during the summer I lived in Houston with my grandfather," she explained.

"You mean the first time? When you were ten?" he questioned.

"Yes. I was really lonely for a while, but there was this playground in our neighborhood and I'd go there sometimes, hoping to make a friend. Most of the girls were a lot older or a lot younger than me, so I never really got close to any of them. But Gage and his foster brothers were closer to my age, so I pestered them to let me play 'capture the flag' with them. Gage was the one who finally convinced the rest to let me be the lookout.

"As a way of thanking them for letting me play, the next day I brought some peanut butter sandwiches for a sort of picnic. They ate like they hadn't had food in a week. I learned later that wasn't too far from the truth. His foster parents were-- " She faltered, unsure how much to say.

"Jerks?" he offered.

"Abusive," she corrected, deciding not to sugarcoat it. The Hensons deserved no quarter.

"That's rough. Why was he in foster care?"

"His parents were killed in a car accident and he and Julie had no one who could take them both in, so they ended up in a foster group home."

"Man, that is awful, first to lose their parents and then to be handed over to people who abused them. Didn't anybody check on them, see what was going on?"

"Gage didn't talk about it much, but one day he showed up with a huge bruise on his face. When I asked him about it, he said his foster father had hit him. I wanted to tell my grandfather, but he begged me not to. He said his foster parents told him and his sister that if they complained, they might be sent somewhere else, but they would definitely be separated, and neither of them wanted that," she explained.

While Trent couldn't relate at all to the abusiveness of Gage's childhood home, he did understand the desire to not be separated from his sister. He and Sean might have their issues, but by and large the Donnelly family was large and loving, almost to a fault.

Thoughts of his family reminded him he was on a tight schedule, so he needed to get on with telling Callie about his surprise.

"So, where is Gage taking you for dinner?" he asked casually.

"We talked about going to Spaghetti Warehouse, but I don't think my stomach can handle anything that heavy right now. I've been kind of queasy since lunch. We'll probably end up at Landry's. Seafood sounds good."

"Good. I'm glad you're not hungry for Mexican tonight, because I want to take you out for a special Mexican dinner tomorrow night," Trent announced.

"You do? Really?" Callie could hardly believe her ears. He wanted to take her out? "Out, as in, out in public?"

"Of course. Unless you have a Mexican chef stashed in your house somewhere," he kidded her.

She eyed him suspiciously. He looked like the proverbial cat that ate the canary. "Spill it," she ordered.

"We have reservations at the Zuni Grill at seven o'clock," he told her, his azure eyes brimming with mischief.

She felt like she was staring at a puzzle with one piece missing. The picture was almost complete, but not quite. She was starting to not like it.

"Zuni Grill? The only Zuni Grill I know of is in—San Antonio! You're taking me to San Antonio? For dinner?" She was bouncing between excitement and confusion.

"No, silly, for the whole weekend. Surprise."

She leaped into his arms and kissed him for all she was worth. When she finally relinquished his lips, he detailed their plans.

"We both have the next three days off, so I booked us airline tickets, dinner reservations and a room at the Marriott on the River Walk. Do you want to know what I'm looking forward to the most?"

"What?" she asked, hoping his answer would match her own.

"Being able to sleep with you all night long and wake up next to you in the morning."

Yippee!

"Oh, Trent, that's what I want most, too. We can also hold hands and kiss and not care who sees us, just like a normal couple."

As soon as the words left her lips, she wished she could take them back. She didn't want him to think she was unhappy with the way things were. She often was, but she didn't want him to know that.

"I guess our situation isn't exactly 'normal', is it? Callie—" He paused, took a long, deep breath, let it out again. When he looked at her, his eyes were filled with worry. "Do you regret getting involved with me?"

"No! Oh, no, not for a second," she assured him. It was true. She didn't regret her relationship with him. How could she? He was the man of her dreams, her soul mate. The anti-fraternization policy wasn't his doing. She had gone into this thing with her eyes wide open.

"Really? Because sometimes I think you do. I think you wish there could be, I don't know, more."

That was the real reason he had come down here tonight, the real reason he wanted to take her away for the weekend. He suspected that she had looked into the future and found it missing the things she must truly want. Didn't all women want to get married and have babies? She would make a wonderful mother. Who was he to expect her to deny her maternal instincts for a life of stolen kisses and hot motel room sex? Even if children weren't part of the picture, she deserved to be loved openly, to share all the little intimacies of a 'normal' relationship.

He had sensed something different about the connection between Callie and Gage, something powerful, and it had worried him. There were no rules against fraternizing with members of other public service professions. Callie the EMT and Gage the Ranger could 'fraternize' on every corner of the city in broad daylight from now until the end of time with no threat whatsoever to either of their jobs. With Gage, she could be an EMT and a wife and mother. With Trent, at some point, she would have to choose.

"Well, I can't imagine how I could ask for more than a gorgeous man who loves me like no other, who is probably spending his last dime to take me on a wonderful trip to San Antonio and whose fondest wish is to sleep with me all night," she stated with pure sincerity. She hastened to add, "After several rounds of mind-bending, bone-melting sex, of course."

"Of course," he replied with a devilish smile and kissed her until her knees went weak.

She was right about spending his last dime, too. He'd probably have to work a month's worth of extra shifts to pay off the credit card, but he didn't care. If being a 'normal' couple was what she needed, then that was what he wanted to give her, at least temporarily. He only hoped that a weekend would be enough, and not just leave her craving a life he wasn't prepared to maintain past Monday.