“Don’t thank me yet. You’ve only known me a day. I’ll be getting right on your tits by the end of the week.”
He actually believes that, I can tell. I want to correct him as he drifts back to his work, but my tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth.I need a drink.Water, not liquor, honest.
I slip out of the kitchen and brave the bar. It’s not busy, but there’s something about this place that gets under my skin. As if I know I should like it more, but I’m too frayed to appreciate the chill-as-fuck environment Tanner has created. Jax usually makes it better, but I don’t see him anywhere, and that’s par for the course now summer is here. He works longer hours on the trails, conserving the wilderness I used to call my office. I miss the sun in my face. The smell of baked earth and grass.
Go outside, then. Hike. Fish. Climb a tree and watch the fuckin’ birds.
Maybe tomorrow. I’m not scared of the trails and mountains like Tanner was after he got sick. I just can’t be bothered to do nice things. Simple joys are hard to find when you’ve forgotten how to look.
“You want a beer?”
Tanner’s gruff voice makes me jump. Apologies dance in his eyes, but I wave them away. It’s not his fault I’m wired wrong right now. “Can I get a couple of those fancy waters?”
His gaze slides to the kitchen door and he nods, disappearing while I dig my wallet out of my pocket. When he comes back, he waves my money away, but I force it on him. The rent I pay on the second apartment upstairs is ridiculously low. He created a job for me, a fuckin’ sanctuary. I can’t take nothing more off him.
Drifting, I carry the cold bottles back to the kitchen. The icy glass against my palms makes me think of the lava that apparently lives in Joss’s hands. His theory about oversensitivity makes more sense than him being a magical being. But I prefer mine. My grandma once told me every human born had a bit of magic in them. A wildfire that burns bright until you fuck up your life enough to snuff it out.
I haven’t got much of mine left right now, but it’s okay. I think Joss has enough for both of us.
7
JOSS
The burgers are a win. I pair them with smoked bacon and cheddar cheese and make a sweet relish that works with the unique flavor of the hemp buns.
It won’t be for everyone, but hey, neither am I.
Kai likes them. He inhales one, then disappears with the bowl of motherfuckingperfectfries I leave on his toolbox.
Tanner likes the burgers too. He cuts a couple into bitesize portions and distributes them around the bar. Then he’s back to watch me work. “What are you doing with Finn’s chicken?”
“Another sandwich. Harrison wanted two types, right?”
“I think so.” Tanner swipes more fries and eats them. “He went back and forth a couple times, and I got distracted planning the UK trip.”
“Your wedding?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t know it at the time. Jax set it up without me knowing.”
“Good job you said yes, eh?”
Tanner’s stern face melts. “I was never gonna say no.”
He hits me with a bomb of pure love. It’s nice, but alien. Hopping from job to job, from flat to house to a wooden shack on a Phuket beach, it’s not a recipe for the kind of commitment he and Jax share. I’m a lone wolf in a crowd, and I like it that way.
I clean up the burger mess while Tanner eats more fries. The chicken can wait till tomorrow when I get some different bread, but the hemp farmer gave me a bag of waste crumbs I want to do something with.
Stepping around Tanner, I dig the eggs and sausage meat from my box of tricks and lay them on the counter.
I feel his curiosity, but I ignore him and fall into a zone I won’t escape until the tiny seed of an idea has come together.
Or failed. But I’m confident. In life, it’s fifty-fifty. In the kitchen, I smash that shit.
Twenty minutes later, I have the perfect scotch egg. I make chutney with the pears and the famous cider Tanner sells in the bar, then I present him the plate. “Eat it and weep.”
I don’t wait for his response. I know it’s good. I clean up and take the leftovers upstairs, absolutely not seeking out Kai.
Which is just as well, as he’s not there.
