“You've been different since the barbecue.”
“I’ve always been different. You're just picking up on it now.” I crammed half a bread roll in my mouth so I couldn't say anything else.
On Thursday evening, I couldn’t decide what to wear. This wasn’t a date, so I couldn’t get too dressed up. And I wasn’t wearing sweatpants. I settled on jeans and a green shirt that my dragon approved of, though he wasn’t known for his fashion sense. But it was too late to change.
Green is the color of forests, and forests are the lungs of the earth.
Maybe I should get him a job as an environmentalist.
The drive to Grafton had me questioning whether we were doing the right thing. This was risky. If anyone from either station saw us, the gossip would be everywhere by morning. Andnot just gossip. There'd be questions about loyalty and whether I'd been holding back during events. My crew trusted me, and I was about to have dinner with the one person who could shatter that trust.
But as I pulled into the restaurant parking lot and spotted his truck, my doubts evaporated. The ache that had been building for three days, the one I'd been pretending was indigestion or anything other than what it was, quieted.
I checked my reflection in the rearview mirror. I had flushed cheeks and my pupils were enlarged. I looked like a person who was about to have a secret dinner with his fated mate from a rival fire station during an active competition.
Hey, you nailed it.
I climbed out of Berryl and walked toward the entrance before I could change my mind.
SIX
LARKIN
I arrived fifteen minutes early because I always got to places early.
The restaurant was in Grafton, two towns over from Danvers and far enough from Trenton that the chances of running into anyone from either station were slim. I'd chosen it after scrolling through reviews for ages, looking for somewhere quiet.
This wasn't a date, it was a conversation between two people figuring out a complicated situation. But the place couldn’t be a dive because I had standards, even when I was lying to myself about why we were meeting.
I'd gotten a table near the back, away from the windows, and was studying the menu as if it contained the meaning of life when Percy walked in. He was wearing jeans and a green shirt that made his eyes stand out. He spotted me and smiled, the same one from the barbecue I’d been replaying in my head.
I exhaled because having him close was similar to receiving good news when you’d been prepared for bad. No matter the world outside, here in my corner of the universe, we were okay.
He studied my shirt and cocked his head. “Did you iron a shirt for a secret date?” He slid into the chair across from me and picked up the menu. “You really are a lieutenant.”
“It's not ironed. It's just not wrinkled.” I’d hung it up in the bathroom while I showered.
“Hmmm.” He scanned the menu. “Is there a difference?”
“Yes, one involves an iron.”
He peered at me over the top of the menu. There was a glint of humor in his gaze, and the tension in my shoulders eased. Maybe meeting like this had been a good idea. I’d questioned whether we were making a mistake. But being near him, listening to his teasing, scenting his unique smell, was worth it.
Percy ordered a burger with extra pickles and a beer. I asked for pasta and soda water because I was on shift at six in the morning.
“So.” He folded his arms on the table and leaned forward. "We're here. Two firefighters from rival stations having a dinner that no one can know about. Where do we start?”
“Wherever you want.”
“Okay.” He tilted his head. “Why firefighting?”
That question caught me off guard, but I appreciated it. He wasn't asking about the bond, the rules we’d laid out for us, or the competition. Instead, he wanted to find out about me.
“I like the structure of the routine, training, and knowing that every skill I practice might save someone's life. And there’s the crew. The people you work with for twenty-four hours at a stretch become important to you.”
“That's the lieutenant answer.” He propped his chin on his hand. “What's the real one?”
Wow. He wasn’t letting me off easy. And he was perceptive, picking up that there was another underlying reason.
