Except for the part where Auden was very up-front even before our first date that he didn’t want to “rush” into a physical relationship, and I feel a little bit like I’m in junior high when he drops me at my door with a kiss good night.
Except for the part where I keep thinking about the man I’m not supposed to want.
“Auden’s perfect for me,” I say firmly. “He’s hot. He’s smart. He’s funny. He’s a great kisser. He knows what he wants from a relationship. He’s an adventurous eater. He tells good stories. And we have atonof fun when we’re together.”
“Excellent.”
“It is.”
“So, then, what’s the problem?”
I slap sauce on the bread. “There isn’t one. I refuse to let there be one.”
“At the risk of you throwing my sandwich at me…” Holden gives me a lopsided grin. “Ah.”
I roll my eyes. “What Auden and I have makes sense. It’s smart. It’sreal. And if I have the urge to indulge in bad habits, like thinking that I have a chance with Robbie because he… because for a moment there we… because I imagined something that didn’t exist, last time we were hanging out at my place, then I need to fucking stop and remember what’s good for me. Like after Dad’s heart attack, when he gave up fried foods and had to step down from running Axford Lumber because it stressed him out.”
“Ames.” He shakes his head. “Ask Beckett how well Dad did at letting go of Axford Lumber,” he says, referring to our oldest brother, who stepped up to run our family’s company. “And ask Ruby at the diner how compliant he is with the no-fried-foods thing.” He sets both hands on the counter and leans in. “The heart wants what it wants. Even when it’s the opposite of logical. Even when it’s popcorn shrimp and truffle fries.”
“Well, not mine. There’s no future in pining for people who can’t love you back. All you can do is fuck up the relationships you do have. So I’m moving on. With Auden. Probably.” I slide Holden’s sandwich in front of him, pour the soup into a bowl, and drain his pasta.
“Probably. Meanwhile, Auden might be developing real feelings for you. More-than-likefeelings.” Holden takes a huge bite from the center of the sandwich while leaving the crust behind like he’s six years old.
I close my eyes and huff out a breath. “Youwouldbring that up.”
“I’m only saying what you’re already thinking, otherwise you wouldn’t’ve sounded so guilty.” He shrugs and chews thoughtfully. “I don’t know how love works, bro—you’d have to ask Beckett and Griffin, I guess—but I’m pretty sure it doesn’t work the way you think it does.”
I give him a scathing glare. “Thank you so?—”
My phone rings, interrupting us, and I groan, recognizing the ringtone.
“Axford,” I answer.
“Ames, hey.” Ravi from dispatch doesn’t pause in his typing while he talks, which is very strange to witness but makes him incredible at his job. “Structure fire at the old Sullivan Timber mill. Multiple reports of heavy smoke and flames. James, Porto, and Reznik are already dispatched, but James says we’ll need at least three teams. It’s a big one. Kaur’s on her way in. So are Greene and Herzog. Still trying a few other volunteers. Should I contact Hugh?”
“No. He’s sick. Last thing we want is to put someone on the scene we might have to drag out of it. Call Nat Rivera over in Mabel and ask if they can send a crew out. If Sullivan mill’s fully engaged, that’s gonna be a big fucking problem.”
Holden’s eyes widen. “Fuck,” he mutters around his food.
I nod. Sullivan Timber shut down operations six months ago under a cloud of scandal. I have no idea how much dry wood and chemicals might still be on-site.
“Call Robbie, please,” I tell Ravi reluctantly. “Apprise him of the situation, but tell him it’s under control. I hate to bother him, but he’ll be pissed if we don’t.”
“You got it, Ames. And I’ll call Sheriff Axford.”
“Don’t bother,” I tell Ravi. “He already knows.”
Holden’s got the remains of his sandwich wrapped in a napkin and his phone in his hand by the time I hang up, calling in some of his own people to set up a safety perimeter.
“I’ll drive,” he says as we make our way to the front and say goodbye to Jana.
The wind nearly takes off the door to Holden’s SUV as we climb in.
I blow out a breath. “Know what’s worse than a giant structure fire in the middle of a freezing cold night?” I mutter.
“Yeah,” Holden says. “That firein the wind.”
He drives the two blocks to the Emergency Services building in mere seconds, and I jump out without waiting for him to stop. I’m already running through gear, protocols, team assignments. Getting into the headspace where I work from muscle memory.
