She remembered another time their gazes had connected in such a way. It had been last year, when the men at the
fire station had given her father a surprise birthday party.
She distinctively remembered Storm standing across the room talking to someone and then suddenly turning, locking his gaze with hers as if he were actually seeing her for the first time. The episode had been brief, but earth-tilting for her nonetheless.
“Your father was a very special man, Jayla, and he meant a lot to me,” he said softly before releasing his grip and
taking a step back.
She nodded, putting how intense Storm’s nearness made her feel to the back of her mind while holding back the tears that always flooded her eyes whenever she thought of
losing her father to pancreatic cancer. He had died within three months of the condition being diagnosed.
Although while growing up she had thought he was too
authoritative at times, he had been a loving father. “And you meant a lot to him, as well, Storm,” she said, through the
tightness in her throat. “You were the son he never had.”
She watched him inhale deeply and knew that her words had touched him.
“Promise that if you ever need anything that you’ll call me.”
She sighed, knowing she would have to lie to him for a
|