He cheated i chose two firefighters novel Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Scar’s POV

“Three more squats and you’re finished for today, Jules,” I told my client, who I had been training for six months.

“Oh, bless. I cannot stand leg and butt day,” she groaned, sweat beading at her hairline and sliding down her cheeks.

“You’re the one who said you wanted your body back after Xavier.”

“I know, I know. And I’m seriously thankful you’ve worked with me these past six months—you got me back to pre-Xavier weight. Jonas can’t keep his hands to himself.” She huffed out a laugh. “I’m grateful. I just hate squats.”

I chuckled. Almost nobody loved them.

When she finished, I passed her a towel. While she wiped her face, my gaze drifted across the gym and found my husband, Brennan, between clients, moving through a set of lifts like it was nothing. I let myself smile.

Two years of marriage have been…really good. He’s attentive. The sex is solid—sometimes I wish it were wilder—but he makes me feel chosen, and that matters.

“Your husband is looking real good over there,” Jules said, following my eyes.

“He is.” I watched him for another beat. “Tomorrow’s our third anniversary. I think I’m ready to have a baby, so I’m going to tell him. He’s been begging. He wants to be a dad so bad.”

“That’s amazing, Scar. You’d be such good parents.” She brightened. “I saw you with Xavier when Jonas picked me up last time—your whole face changed when you saw him.”

“He’s a sweet kid,” I said. “So cute. Always smiling at me.”

“Babies know who’s good. You’re one of his favorite people.”

I couldn’t help the grin that spread across my face. Xavier was the cutest nine-month-old I had ever seen—curly red hair, freckles across his nose, and that laugh he saved for me every time.

I clapped my hands once. “Alright. Today was your last session. Do you want to sign up for another six months, or do you feel ready to keep going on your own?”

“I’m ready,” Jules said, shoulders squared with pride. “You gave me a routine I can actually follow, and the nutrition plan has been incredible. I feel like I can do this.”

“Perfect,” I said, pulling her into a hug. I hated letting go of clients I’d grown close to, but watching them leave confident always made the ache worth it. “If you ever need anything, you know where to find me.”

We waved goodbye as she headed out.

I went back to the office, slid her file into the black cabinet with the rest of my finished-client folders, and was closing the drawer when Brennan stepped in. He smiled like he’d been saving it for me, leaned in, and kissed me quick.

“Hey, doll. Good day?”

“Really good,” I said. “Jules is officially done—she’s going solo. I feel weirdly proud.”

“You should,” he said, brushing my hand with his. “I’ve got one more client, then I’m free. Dinner tonight—do we need groceries, or do you want to go out?”

“Ronan’s,” I decided instantly. “Chicken salad sandwich. Sweet potato fries.”

He nodded. “You done for the day?”

“Yeah. I’m going to wipe down equipment, finish my paperwork, then take a quick shower.”

“See you in two hours?”

“Two hours,” I said. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Two hours later, we were tucked into a booth at Ronan’s, eating like we’d earned it.

Brennan demolished his steak and fries like someone might snatch his plate away. I watched him more than I ate. His brown hair had gotten long enough to pull into a short, messy ponytail. His eyes—warm, brown, steady—kept flicking back to me. I could read the affection in the way he looked up.

His jaw flexed as he chewed. His lips were glossy from the food and, against my better judgment, I got stuck staring. Clean-shaven, boy-next-door handsome, body cut from stone. My pulse kicked.

“You’re staring at me like I’m dessert,” he said, mouth curving.

“Maybe because when we get home, I want to taste you,” I murmured.

His eyes darkened. “Babe—fuck—you’re giving me a hard-on.”

I caught my bottom lip between my teeth and looked at him through my lashes. I knew exactly what that did to him.

He pushed back from the table. “We need to leave. Now.”

He paid fast. We were out the door like we’d been chased.

The drive home was only fifteen minutes, but it felt longer because the air between us was all friction and heat. I was already imagining the front door slamming behind us—

—and then we turned onto our street.

A moving truck sat half in the road, its open back practically parked across our driveway. Brennan pulled over to the curb instead. I was unbuckling, ready to sprint inside, when I noticed the change in him.

He wasn’t looking at our house.

He was staring next door.

I followed his gaze and saw a little girl on the lawn, spinning a hula-hoop with single-minded concentration. Brennan started walking that way, and I let out a quiet sigh.

So much for the rabbits.

“Hey,” Brennan called gently, stopping at the edge of the yard. “That’s a pretty cool hula-hoop.”

I stepped up beside him, smiling despite myself. The kid was adorable—honey-blonde hair in pigtail braids, bright blue eyes, a cupid’s-bow mouth with lips so pink they looked painted. But she was too young for makeup; it was just her.

She gave a small, cautious wave. “I’m not really supposed to talk to strangers,” she whispered.

My smile widened. “Fair.”

“I’m Scarlett,” I said, softening my voice. “Most people call me Scar. This is my husband, Brennan—Bren if you want. We live next door, so we probably won’t be strangers for long.”

“If you need anything,” Brennan said quickly, almost too eager, “just ask. Seriously. Moving is a lot. If something needs fixing—or if you ever need help with Eve—Scar can watch her, right, hon?”

“Uh—yeah,” I said, words tripping over themselves. “Sure. No problem.”

Sloane’s grin widened. “You two are sweet. How long have you been married?”

“Not long,” Brennan said. “Two years.”

The way he said it made it sound like we’d barely made it past the honeymoon.

My brows drew together.

“Two years,” Sloane echoed. “That’s nothing. Have you been together longer than that?”

“We’ve been together four,” I answered, keeping my tone even. “Brennan hired me at the gym he manages. We both do personal training. We dated almost a year before we got married.” I forced a small brightness into my voice. “Tomorrow’s our three-year anniversary, actually.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” Sloane said, and then she stepped back like she was remembering the rest of her day. “I should get back to it. Still have some boxes and I have to return the van.”

“Do you want a hand?” Brennan asked.

I stared at him.

What the fuck? Weren’t we literally seconds away from tearing each other apart?

“Oh, no,” Sloane said easily. “I’m basically done.”

“Alright,” Brennan replied. “It was nice meeting you.”

We waved and headed inside.

The second the door shut, I moved toward him, ready to wrap my arms around his waist and drag him back into the moment we’d been building all through dinner.

He didn’t even look at me.

Brennan went straight to the living room and sat down.

“I feel bad for her,” he said, voice heavy. “Raising a kid by herself. We should make friends with her, you know? So she doesn’t feel alone.”

“Um…okay,” I managed, still trying to catch up.

He turned to me, earnest like he was making a vow. “You don’t know what it’s like having only one parent in the house. Your parents are still together. I bet it’s just them in there, lonely all the time. We need to be there for them.”

Then he stood.

And before I could say anything that made sense, he walked right back out the front door.

What the hell just happened?