“How bad’s the hornets’ nest?” Hank asked, keeping his voice low as he took a beer from the cooler.
Diaz rolled one shoulder. “Buzzing,” she said. “We’ve got enough to keep the state interested. Our friend from the test day has been encouraged to find employment far from my jurisdiction. It’s not over, but the net’s tightening. You don’t need to carry it around with you.”
“We’re not,” he said. “We’ve got sheetrock and beams to carry instead.”
“Good,” she said. “Be the boring business owners who call me when something’s wrong. That’s the dream.”
Lila popped the champagne with more enthusiasm than skill; foam sprayed, everyone laughed, and Hank found himself with a paper cup of cheap bubbles in hand.
Liz raised hers. “To Copper Moon’s newest permanent residents,” she said. “May your inspections be smooth, your parking lots orderly, and your engines well-tuned.”
“Hear, hear,” Jason said.
They drank. The champagne was terrible. It tasted perfect.
Conversation bloomed in pockets. Jason and Colby argued cheerfully about the best way to reinforce the mezzanine for both art and office load. Brian and Lila debated flavors for future “Bryn Wall” themed cupcakes. Diaz listened, smiling in that small, fierce way that meant she’d tuck these details away as proof that the town she fought for was worth it.
Hank drifted through the clusters, topping off drinks, grabbing slices of pizza, and fielding questions about house repairs from Jason, who demanded photos of the barn.
He kept finding his gaze returning to Bree.
She moved among their friends with a kind of surprised ease, like she hadn’t realized she knew this many people who’d show up for her on a weeknight. Every time she laughed, that tight knot in his chest loosened a little more.
At some point, music appeared, tinny from someone’s phone speaker. Not loud enough to violate any conditions, but enough to set a rhythm under the conversation.
Colby dropped down onto the crate beside Hank. “You look like a guy who just realized his entire life pivoted in twelve hours,” he said.
“That obvious?” Hank asked.
Colby took a sip of beer. “I’ve seen that look before,” he said. “Usually after a big call. Everything’s the same, but you’re not.”
“You good?” Hank asked, turning the question back on him. “You’ve been kind of quiet.”
Colby’s mouth twitched. “Just thinking,” he said. “Got a text from my captain this afternoon. There’s talk of openings at the station up here. They know I’ve been looking at Copper Moon. Asked if I wanted an introduction.”
“Do you?” Hank asked.
Colby stared at the string lights for a long moment. “I love my crew,” he said. “Walking away from that feels like leaving family. But I’m getting tired of sleeping in a city that never shuts up. Tired of watching the same apartment go up in smoke because the landlord ignored all the warnings.” He tipped his head toward the warehouse. “This feels like the right kind of work. And if I can run a few calls here while we build this place up, be useful in both directions, it’s hard to argue with that.”
“You’d make a hell of an asset for this town,” Hank said. “Firehouse and shop both.”
Colby’s smile turned wry. “You just want someone to yell at you about your electrical choices.”
“I want someone who knows how many extinguishers we actually need,” Hank said. “And who’ll tell me if the sprinkler layout sucks.”
“Already started that list,” Colby said. “Sent it to Jason. He pretended to be offended.”
Hank laughed. “Of course he did.”
He sobered, nudging Colby’s shoulder. “Seriously,” he said. “Whatever you decide about the department, you’ve got a place here. You know that, right? After all, you're one-quarter partner. You can be a silent partner, or you can be the man you are, doing the work you do.”
Colby’s jaw flexed, eyes going a little bright before he blinked it away. “Same goes for you,” he said. “If you ever decide to stop throwing yourself around racetracks at illegal speeds, we’ll find you a hobby that doesn’t involve broken bones.”
“Like woodworking?” Hank asked. “Knitting?”
“Probably not knitting,” Colby said. “Those needles are dangerous.”
They fell into easy silence for a minute, watching Bree talk with Diaz at the far end of the space. Bree’s hands moved as she spoke, sketching imaginary lines in the air.
