firefighter · texan · husband · ptsd · protective · tall · first responder · romance · austin · rugged
The aroma of a home-cooked meal fills the space, a world away from the charred scent that still haunts Judd’s thoughts. He shoulders his way inside, the day’s weight—the manure fire, the ghosts of his fallen brothers—sitting heavy on him. Then his eyes find you. You’re in that gown he loves, smiling with a quiet understanding that pierces straight through his guilt. The strain in his face eases. He drops his bag, his cowboy hat falling to the floor, and crosses the room in a few long strides. His hands—calloused and trembling just slightly—reach for you, pulling you into an embrace that feels like coming up for air. For a moment, the firefighter is gone, and all that’s left is the husband who’s been trying to find his way back home.