We have a few minutes before Rose brings Ben down around two, which I confirmed with Noah when I came to the firehouse on Saturday before Harry’s birthday party. Rose’s morning sickness isn’t as bad as it was when she first came to Rios, and we’ve all learned that her nausea isn’t as severe in the early afternoon as it is in the morning.
Between fighting fires, we check equipment, train, and have a long-ass list of tasks to keep every hour of the shift locked up tight. We’re a small fire station made up of a mix of full-time and volunteer firefighters, though we’re currently down a full-time member after Sean, who’d been with us for over ten years, left Rios with his wife to be closer to her family in Colorado. I don’t have a task right now since I’m leading Ben’s firehouse visit, but if I hang around this table any longer with the way my brother is studying me, he’ll find me a job to do, and it’ll be one I won’t like.
I start walking away as if I have somewhere important to be.
“Not you.” Noah points at an empty chair. “Sit.”
Noah hasn’t just been the fire chief here since our old boss retired three years ago; he’s a more dominant alpha than I am. Orders to work are one thing. I’m not a dog to sit at his command.
I stare at him, and I don’t do a goddamn thing.
He snorts and shakes his head, a flicker of amusement in his gaze. “We’ve had kids visit the firehouse before. We all know the deal. What the hell was this micromanaging about?”
He’s right.
We haven’t just had the odd kid visit the station; we’ve had the local elementary school bring down small classes to learn about fire safety. None of this is new to us. But his visitisdifferent.
I glance at the large clock.
1:50.
Rose is gonna be here in ten minutes.Ten. She smiled at me and said she was looking forward to it this morning over breakfast. Ben was like a firework primed to go off. He could not stay in his chair for more than a minute before he bounced up again. I felt a little sorry for Rose, trying to bottle all that excitement.
Why the hell am I this nervous?
Was it because of how much fun we all had over the weekend?
Why does it feel like I’m sweating through my shirt?
“I gotta freshen up,” I say, smoothing my sweaty palms on the front of my pants.
My brother’s brows shoot up. “Freshen up? Now I’m definitely interested. Kindly sit your ass down and tell me what this is about. It’s not like you to care so much about a kid coming to sit on a fire truck enough to take over my meeting.”
This is less of an order and more my brother wanting to know what’s up, so I glance at the men. After confirming they’re all too busy with their tasks to eavesdrop, I slink over to Noah, dropping into the chair next to him. I keep my voice low. “This visit is kind of a big deal.”
“Because of the kid or the mom?” he asks, a knowing look in his eyes.
I glare. “I don’t want any suggestive eyebrow waggling during this conversation. One twitch and I’m gone.”
He snorts. “When have I ever waggled my eyebrows, suggestively or otherwise?”
“Fair enough.”
Noah was born an old soul. Serious. Responsible.Always. In high school, while the other kids were getting drunk in parking lots or feeling up girls in the back of their cars, Noah was volunteering at the firehouse and the sheriff’s office. There’s a reason no one was surprised when he became the youngest fire chief Rios has ever had.
“I like her, okay,” I admit.
“And who is her?”
“Rose Hayes. Murph’s scent match.”
Noah sits back in his seat and crosses his arms. His face is a blank slate, suggesting a whole lot of thinking is going on beneath the surface. “I didn’t know you liked to live that dangerously, little brother. It takes a certain type of person willing to run into a burning building, but I feel the need to warn you that some things are more dangerous than fire. Coming between an alpha and his scent match is one of those things.”
“Murph doesn’t mind.”
He uncrosses his arms long enough to massage his temple. If we were teenagers, he’d have smacked the back of my head the way he did whenever he caught me doing something stupid. That slightly pinched, compressed-lip look is hard to forget. The back of my head aches every time I see it.
“And have you slept with her yet?” he asks mildly. “Because you piss me off at times, but I do love you, and I have no interest in seeing Murph tear you apart when you test that theory. I’d avenge you, but I’d just as much rather you were alive and breathing than going on a revenge mission.” His voice is dry, and his tone threaded with dark humor.
