He was right. I’d given Eric and Carter shit for falling in love. If they gave me half the crap I gave them, I deserved it.
The truth was, at that moment, I started to think I’d gladly take it, too.
Shaking my thoughts loose, I plugged the earpiece back into my ear in time to hear Jocelyn conversing with Captain Rogers.
“You look like you’ve got a lot on your mind,” she said in a voice a few octaves lower than her regular tone.
I tensed, hating that she had to put on the charm for this motherfucker. Even if he wasn’t the arsonist, hearing her talk up another man made something ugly move course my body.
“Lotta bullshit,” Rogers responded.
“Hmm. Well, this martini has me feeling nice already,” she said before letting out a husky laugh. “I’ve got two good ears and a lot of patience if you want to talk about it.”
There was silence, and I pictured Rogers staring at her, sizing her up.
“What do you know about firefighting?” he finally asked.
“I know it’s a dangerous job. And that every pilot season, at least one of the big network stations has another show following the lives and drama of firefighters. Oh, and a lot of firefighters are sexy as hell in all that gear,” she purred.
I smirked. “You better be talking about me,” I said, loud enough for her to hear me through the earpiece.
“Those shows lie,” Rogers said. “We don’t get half the respect we deserve. At least, I don’t.”
“Are you a firefighter?”
There was a long pause before he replied, “Yeah,” and made a disbelieving sound. “Most days, though, I wish I’d done what I really wanted to for a career.”
“What was that?”
“Mechanic. I wanted my own shop. But the old man, he wouldn’t hear of it.”
Rogers’ father had risen to Battalion Chief.
“That’s a shame,” Jocelyn said. “I’m sorry.”
There was a grunt, which I assumed to be Rogers’ response.
“And now look at me, Captain of my very own station for almost a damn decade,” he said, bitterly. “Cheers.”
“Captain’s a good thing, right?” She’d infused her voice with phony inquisitiveness.
“Yeah, but not for a Rogers. I tried to make…”
I shifted my attention as the same man in the hoodie from earlier approached the club's door. Something felt off about this guy. He’d lingered around the club for a while before approaching the door. His back was to me from my position in the truck, but something about him didn’t feel right.
“Why would a guy dress in a hoodie and sweatpants to come out to a nightclub?” I asked with my hand on the door.
“Good question,” Carter replied. By then, I was halfway out of the truck.
As the door slammed behind me, the guy in the hoodie paid at the front and slinked his way into the club.
I scowled as a different bouncer from earlier pressed a palm to my chest, thwarting my attempt to enter.
“Thirty bucks,” the bouncer demanded.
“Fuck out of the way.” I pushed his beefy ass arm away before charging through the door.
“Williamsport Fire Department,” Carter said behind me. I guessed he was explaining why we were there to the bouncer.
