Linc’s eyes narrowed, still aware of Red’s presence. “I think we have to talk to someone about making sure we take shitty equipment out of service.”
Her smirk stretched. “Or maybe you need to remember the importance of inspecting your gear before you tackle a job.” She clapped a hand on his shoulder, smacking the soggy T-shirt against his skin. “It’s fine. It’s a rookie mistake. They’re expected.”
“Rookie mistake? You’re the one who—”
“Are you leaving?” Vasquez called out after Red, who was halfway to his car. Linc ignored the stab of hurt. He hadn’t even said goodbye.
“Yeah. I, uh, I have to get back to work.” Red glanced over his shoulder, hands stuffed into his pockets. They pulled the khaki tight over the swell of his ass, and Linc’s pulse thundered in his throat, as he glued his gaze to the asphalt at Red’s leather shoes.
“Have a good day. Thanks for the food!” Vasquez nudged Linc.
“Yeah, thanks.”
Red did a funny kind of hop, back arching like he’d been electrocuted, before he finally pulled his hands free of his pockets and gave them an awkward wave. “Thanks for, um, coming...to my house. Last night. Thanks!”
His shoulders were hunched as he continued to the car, and he didn’t say anything else before he pulled away and drove off.
Linc didn’t realize he was staring again until Vasquez took the pan from him.
“You got a crush, Scott?” She bumped a hip against his.
Panic tightened its grip on his sternum. He covered it by peeling his wet shirt off and tossing it at her. “That guy doesn’t need a boyfriend—he needs a babysitter.”
She arched an eyebrow. “The way he was looking at you, I’m sure he’d let you sit on him. Or he’d sit on you.”
Linc’s brain turned into a sludge of slow-moving images, illustrating what Red in his lap would be like.
“Scott. Vasquez.” The chief stood at the far end of the bay. His words made Linc jump. “How is the community-giving plan going?”
Linc swallowed. “Fine, Chief.”
“Good to hear. Anything else we need to talk about?”
Linc glanced at Vasquez, who made a few kissy noises. He glared at her, and she shrugged.
“Not a thing, Chief,” Linc said.
They’d eat the lasagna, and Linc would probably never see Red again.
