Lakeside Romance. Lisa Jordan

      He glanced over his shoulder at Sarah standing a few steps behind him, then dropped his gaze to focus on the intricate pattern stamped into the concrete steps.

      He wasn’t in the mood for a lecture, and he was sure she was ready to blast him about walking out on her.

      She laid a hand on his shoulder. “You okay?”

      “Yeah.” He pushed out a ragged breath.

      “Was it something I said? Or did?”

      He hated the hesitancy in her voice...and knowing he was the cause of it.

      “No, it’s nothing you did. I just...” How could he explain himself to her when even he wasn’t quite sure what had him running for the door? What else could he say? A bunch of teenagers turned him into a first-class wuss? Grown men shouldn’t be having panic attacks.

      Alec fixated on a daisy growing in the crack in the sidewalk. Despite the hard circumstances and daily foot traffic, the flower thrived in the sunshine. It reminded him of Sarah. She deserved some sort of explanation.

      “Four years ago, I worked for the fire department. We volunteered in our off-hours as mentors to at-risk kids in the community.”

      “That’s a noble thing to do.”

      “No more than what you’re doing.” And he meant it. Anyone who could do her job deserved a prize.

      “What happened?” She sat on the step next to him, close enough for him to smell her shampoo. The edge of her pink skirt brushed the tops of her knees.

      “Shouldn’t you be inside?” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder toward the door. Why had he begun this conversation?

      “Mindy’s in there. Plus, Pastor Nate walked over from the church and they’re holding down the fort for a few minutes.”

      Great. He hadn’t seen the volunteers in the kitchen. Someone else to witness his freak-out.

      “What happened with the program?” The soft, questioning tone of her voice frayed the already ragged edges of his nerves.

      He shrugged. “Nothing. As far as I know, they’re still doing it.”

      “What changed, then?”

      “A kid named Justin. His dad was an alcoholic—a mean drunk at that. Justin and I bonded over music, and I was teaching him how to play guitar. Things seemed to be going well until he came to me with a black eye. I had to report it.”

      “Of course. His safety was your first priority.”

      “One would think. Somehow he found out I gave the anonymous tip about the same time his mom, desperate to escape her abusive husband, set their house on fire while Justin’s dad was passed out inside.”

      “Oh, no!”

      “We arrived on the scene in time to put the fire out. Justin’s dad ended up in the ICU, and his mom was arrested. Justin blamed me. I tried to get him to calm down and promised him everything would be okay. Biggest mistake of my life.” Alec rubbed a finger and thumb over his eyes. “He and his brother were put in emergency foster care. He promised I’d pay for destroying his family.”

      “What happened?”

      “We were on scene at another incident when a call came in for a residential fire. 731 Meadowbrook Drive.”

      “You remember the address?”

      “Yes. I’ll never forget it. It was my house.” He struggled to breathe, the memory still as fresh as when it happened four years ago. “Where I lived with my pregnant wife of almost two years.”

      Sarah sucked in a sharp breath.

      “The fire consumed our house quickly. I tried to save her.” Unbidden tears pricked his eyes. “The fire. It was too hot. I did everything I could. But...” His chest tightened. “I lost everything that night because I got involved in a troubled kid’s life, hoping to make a difference. I can’t afford to make the same mistake twice.”

      Sarah stood, her expression torn. “Alec, I had no idea. Why did you even agree to working with me?”

      “I don’t know. I needed help with Emmett’s house. If I did this for you, then I could use your assistance without feeling guilty about it. Plus...” He shrugged. “I thought maybe enough time had passed to where I could handle it again. When I walked into that kitchen...”

      “It came rushing back?”

      “Something like that.”

      “Have you talked to anyone?”

      “Like who? About what?”

      “Like someone who specializes in PTSD.”

      “You think I have post-traumatic stress disorder?”

      She lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know. Maybe. Panic attacks. Lack of sleep. A couple of common signs.”

      “I’m fine.”

      “Okay, then, if you’re fine, let’s head back inside.”

      Alec hesitated. He was fine. Other than the nightmares that jerked him away from time to time, and the scent of smoke that made him want to crawl out of his skin, he was golden.

      But to go back inside?

      The group assembled in the kitchen, focused on breaking eggs, looked like a bunch of regular kids, not disturbed pyromaniacs out for revenge. But how could Sarah look at them and see promise? All he saw was potential destruction. Was there really any hope in helping them?

      Justin could’ve been any one of those kids. He’d shown promise, needing someone to believe in him. Someone to help him see he could do great things. Alec had tried, and it cost him everything.

      How could he risk that again?

      But then again, he had nothing left to lose.

      A slight throat clearing jerked him out of his thoughts. He blinked a couple of times and caught Sarah’s pointed look and raised eyebrow. She stood over him and extended a hand to help him to stand.

      If only it were that simple.

      Something Billy, his brother-in-law, had asked prodded at his brain... Would Christy want to see him living this way?

      He was left with one giant choice—face his fears or let a bunch of kids send him running for the door. Neither option sounded appealing, but he couldn’t continue down the path he’d been walking.

      He put his hand in Sarah’s and forced his legs to move. Steeling his spine and squaring his shoulders, he spoke with more bravado than he felt. “Let’s do this.”

      Hopefully history wouldn’t repeat itself.