“He has,” Tanner says shortly. “Using the generator for power is a new one, though. You’d think it was a fucking treehouse, not a downtown premises. What are you going to do after work?”
“What do you mean?”
“You have no clothes at all?”
I can’t help the sigh that whooshes out of me. “Only what I’m wearing, but I guess I’ll figure that out later too.”
It’s time to go. I want to touch Tanner again. Shake his hand. Hug him. Fuck, even a fist bump would do. But I don’t do it, because his shirtless self is already too much. And he seems lost in thought again.
I leave, shuffling out of the apartment, and shutting the heavy wooden door behind me. Dressed in the same clothes I was in when I got here, it feels like the walk of shame as I head down the stairs past the wine bar, but without the thrill of a damn good fuck. As if I even remember what that’s like. And maybe it’s just as well. I’m having a hard enough time dealing with Tanner’s hotness without imagining all the shit we could do together if life was completely fucking different. If we’d hooked up instead of me being a hobo who’d kipped on his couch.
If. Only.
My boss is waiting for me on the street outside. He’s gazing at the blackened shell where the hostel once stood, phone in his hand, as I come up behind him.
I clap him on the back. “Morning.”
He jumps. “Jesus. I was just about to call you. Bad night, huh?”
“Could’ve been worse. I wasn’t there when it went up.”
Jerry whistles all the same. “What about your stuff?”
“Anything important is at the office. Just lost my clothes and an iPad.”
“Dang. You need a ride somewhere to get new gear?”
Probably. At some point. But replacing my clothes is going to cost money I don’t have till my first pay check comes in, and I don’t feel like disclosing that to a man I need to respect me. “Nah. It’s fine. I’ll get it sorted next week. It’s not like I’m going anywhere that doesn’t involve waterproof pants and boots.”
“Where are you gonna sleep?”
“Not sure yet. The bloke from the wine bar put me up last night.”
“Tanner?”
“Yeah. He said he used to work for you too.”
“That he did. Was my best ranger for a while. Truth be told, we wouldn’t be standing here together if I still had him on my books. No one knows Black Claw better than him.”
“How come he’s working in a wine bar, then?”
Jerry gives me a look that’s somehow fascinating and distraught at the same time. “You’d have to ask him that, son. But as long he’s doing okay, I can live with dragging my own damn self around those trails.”
I don’t imagine I’ll get the chance to ask Tanner anything. He lent me his couch because Eve asked him to. There’s no reason for us to see each other again, but as we walk to the parking lot and set off for HQ, he’s all I can think about. His hot bod is the most obvious distraction from the long day I have ahead of me, but his eyes haunt me the most. They’re kind, but so troubled I can’t help the shiver of disquiet in my gut. And I have a forty-five minute car ride to think about it. At least, I will if Jerry ever stops talking. Yesterday, I’d been enraptured by his best efforts to play tour guide, despite the fact we’ve driven the same route out of Burlington every day for the last month. Today, I just want him to shut the hell up so I can brood over the handsome stranger who saved me from a night on a street bench.
But getting what I want is a rare thing. Jerry talks, and I listen, then we spend the day mapping out safe spots to fix static cameras and set up campsites.
It’s getting dark by the time we roll back into Burlington, and I still haven’t answered Jerry’s question about where I’m going to lay my head for the night.
He pulls the truck to a stop in the parking lot behind the wine bar, then turns to me with a wince. “Damn, sorry. Been so fixed on getting those spots just right I forgot about this. Do you want to—?”
I silence him with a wave of my hand. He’s about to offer me a bed for the night that I know he doesn’t have. Jerry has six foster kids and a four-bedroom house, and…he’s my boss. I don’t want to be the mope employee who can’t get his shit together. “Don’t worry about it. Same time tomorrow, yeah?”
“Jax, don’t be proud, son.”
I laugh, cos if there’s one thing I’m not, it’s fucking proud. “I’m good, mate. Honest. See you in the morning.”
He doesn’t believe me, but despite days and days out on the trails together, we’re not close enough for him to argue with me. He lets me go. I slide out of his truck and sling my bag on my back.
