“Only if you stop stealing all the good snacks on night shift,” Colt fires back.
Jayla chuckles and disappears into the bay with Luke trailing behind her. He’s always so calm, soft-spoken, and annoyingly well-rested.
“Later, Fletch,” Luke says as he passes.
“Later, bud.”
Beck grunts and leans into the pump panel check, muttering about how everything’s always left in the wrong damn place.
Inside the ladder cab, I double-check the thermal imager and rotate the spare air cylinders while Colt moves through the inventory with methodical ease.
“Max keeps asking why I can’t bring the fire truck home,” Colt says, checking the portable radios. “Told him his Grandpa would have a fit.”
“Wait til Zela is old enough to chip in, he won’t stand a chance.”
I’ve seen the way Chief Rhodes is with his grandkids. An absolute goner.
“She’s three months old and already runs our entire house.”
“You should be worried.”
“Iamworried. But I’m also tired and broke, so there’s that.”
We wrap the checks, hit the grocery store for a restock, then swing past Flora’s on the way back. Beck stays in the truck, while Colt and I head inside.
The place smells like cinnamon and fresh bread, and a regular waves from the back booth. One of the part-time baristas, Rory, is at the counter and already halfway through pouring Beck’s usual without asking.
“Black, bitter, and barely human?” she asks, nodding toward the truck parked out front.
“Just like his soul,” I reply, then gesture to the cabinet. “Add two of those cranberry things, plus our usuals, please.”
“Cranberry?” Colt asks, raising a brow.
I shrug. “Consider them part of my daily fruit intake.”
“I’m judging you.”
“I’ll add some of your bacon when we get back to base.”
“Mm, cran-bacon. Sounds like a festive mutation,” he nudges me with an elbow, then wanders over to a vacant table to flick through a newspaper.
While Rory preps our order, I check my phone.
RedRiot:Did you survive your morning and get to shift on time, or shall I alert your next of kin?
I type back quickly, thumb hovering.
Me:Barely. Mouth to mouth required. Coffee being administered. Bacon imminent.
RedRiot:Tragic. If I were there I could’ve made you pancakes
RedRiot:Then climbed into your lap while you ate them. For morale, obviously.
It’s not the first time she’s said something like that. She’s been dropping little hints lately, like she’s starting to picture us in the same room. Starting to imagine me actually putting my hands on her instead of just describing it.
And fuck, Iwantthat. I like her attention. I want her breathless and begging and coming exactly the way I tell her to. I like how she gets me off, that she doesn’t flinch from what I want.
But I’ve done that before. I nearly saidforever—and I've been left bleeding for it. As much as I like to be the one in control, I know what it feels like when someone rips the ground out from under you.
