She lets out a delicate little poof of air. I don’t know what to make of it. “So, how’d you end up a cowboy in L.A. anyway?”
“I grew up on a ranch outside the city limits in larger Los Angeles County. It was pastoral where I’m from. Small town, cozy and quaint. Maybe that’s why I gravitated to Rough & Ready Country.”
“So that belt buckle is the real deal?”
“Absolutely. Team roping with my bestie, Irish.” Most women would fawn all over me at this point. But Catalina looks only mildly interested.
“How about you, Catalina? You ever rodeo?”
She snorts, catching herself and looking mortified. It’s cute as fuck. “No way. Horses and I aren’t a great combination.”
“Tell me about yourself, then. What do you like?”
“Well, you already know I like books. Someday, I want to own a bookstore and cafe in town. It’s a pipe dream of mine.”
Her eyes soften, like she’s already picturing it. The vision of her behind that counter, sleeves rolled up and hair tumbling, makes something sharp and possessive stir low in my chest.Mismatched chairs, stacks of freshly printed paperbacks, thesmell of coffee and cinnamon rolls. I can see it, too. A place that belongs entirely to her.
“Doesn’t sound like a pipe dream to me. Why are you wasting your time at the DMV, then?”
She shrugs. “I’m not ‘wasting my time.’ I mean, I am providing a necessary service, after all. Besides, it’s a safe and steady job with good benefits. Being an entrepreneur scares me.”
“But it’s not your passion.”
She shrugs. “Who seriously gets to live out their passion at work?”
“I do,” I counter. “I love everything about being a firefighter, from the science of fire management to being the first responder when people need help.”
“I thought it was because you’re an adrenaline junkie,” she counters.
I cock my head to the side. “Maybe that’s a part of it. After all, the job is rarely boring. But no, it’s ultimately knowing that I can be there for people when they need me most. Just the other day, we got called out to an apartment complex fire, where we saved three kids.
Oh my God! The story was plastered all over local papers, the talk of the County Courthouse all week. The firefighters involved had to hack their way in using axes. They made it out mere minutes before the structure failed, raining down fiery debris.
Yet, he says it like he’s talking about picking up groceries, like charging into smoke and flames is ordinary. To me, it sounds like a goodbye wrapped in bravado.
“But it’s also got to be dangerous, right?”
“Everything comes with inherent danger. Life itself.”
I park in front of an old fifties-style diner, brightly lit against the velvety black of night, the chrome of the building shining brilliantly. A garish neon sign reads “Ophir City Hop.”
Catalina’s face lights up with pleasure. “Oh, I love this place!”
“You do?”Thank goodness.
“It’s like all the best things fromAmerican GraffitiandHappy Daysrolled into one.”
“And you can’t beat the shakes. Best of all, the kids who work here are too young to recognize me. It’s refreshing.”
A carrot-top server with pigtails skates up to the window. “You ready to order?” she asks.
I look at Catalina.
She urges, “You first.”
“I’ll have the double-double with curly sweet potato fries and a large vanilla caramel swirl shake.”
Catalina’s jaw drops.
