I take the phone away from my face and look at the caller ID.Nope, not my mom.I clear my throat.
“Hey, what’s up?”I ask, sounding as casual as I possibly can.
“You know anyone named Trout?”he asks.
I narrow my eyes and look toward the window.
“You have Trout?”
“Yup.I’ll keep her if you don’t want her anymore,” he says, and I think he’s laughing.
“She’s a terror,” I say.“I’ll be over in a second.”
The guys waveme into the backyard instead of the house, and sure enough, there’s Trout, basking in the attention from half a dozen firemen.
Shirtless firemen.Trout’s a lucky girl.
“Hey, I’m sorry about her,” I call.
“Aww, she’s no problem,” says her current human.“You’re not a problem, are you girl?”
Trout blinks at me, tongue lolling, like she agrees that she’s not a problem.
The fireman tosses a stick across the yard and she bolts after it.
“I’m Silas,” he says, and holds out one hand.I shake it.
“Clementine,” I say.
Yes, he’s hot.Notquiteas hot as Hunter, but I’d take it.
“You presented the plaque the other night,” he says, smiling.“I remember.”
I laugh and tuck my hair behind my ear, a nervous tic because I’m not really sure what to say when a cute fireman says he remembers me.
“Thanks,” I say.
Trout comes back with the stick, briefly saving me.
“Okay, Houdini,” I say to her.“Ready to go home?”
“We’re just hanging out back here, drinking some beers,” Silas says.“You’re welcome to stay.”
Just as I reach down to take the stick out of Trout’s mouth, the back door opens and Hunter walks out.Wearing a shirt.
Maybe it’s my imagination, but I think he pauses for half a second in the doorway, looking from me to Silas and back, but then he keeps walking.Trout drops the stick before I can grab it, then trots over to Hunter.
“Traitor,” I mutter, and Silas smiles.
“Watch out, I might steal her,” Hunter calls.He roughs her up for a few moments before she leaves and walks over to the firemen playing baggo at the end of the yard, and he walks over to us.
“Want a beer?”he asks.
Iwasgoing to do laundry and make chili for next week before I went back to work, but standing between two hot firemen, suddenly those things don’t seem like much of a priority.
“Come on,” Silas adds.“It’s Friday.”
“We’ve got a whole case of Pabst,” Hunter says, like that’ll entice me.“Or, if you’re gonna be discerning, Fat Tire.”
