Page 3 of Love in the Time of Wildfires

Typically, one was supposed to move things from the truck directly into the apartment. Why the fuck was everything outside? With extra annoyance, he navigated through the maze, squeezing himself along a chaotic path of boxes only to discover a stack completely blocking his door. It didn’t take a fire department to see this was not only some kind of safety violation but also something that raised his blood pressure to unhealthy levels. Logan was getting pissed. And there was no way he was lifting one goddamn finger to move any of it.

He turned to find the door across from him open. Unfortunately for his new neighbor, Logan planned to unload the biggest welcome gift of all—a piece of his irritated mind.

Chapter Two

River Alfaro wasn’t certain if the universe was trying to tell her something, but either way the message was coming in loud . . . and also very wet.

“Come on! Please just work with me,” she said, pleading with the stubborn shut-off valve under the kitchen sink. The slippery thing did not cooperate, instead continued to allow water to shoot directly into her chest.

River didn’t ask for a lot in life, but the one thing she should be able to depend on was a pipe not to burst while she was moving in. For it to happen five minutes after Caesar had to rush away was the worst kind of luck. But her cousin, who was nice enough to drive her moving truck from San Diego to South Lake Tahoe, had more pressing matters—like his wife going into labor three and a half weeks early.

She already missed her large family and now had to face this disaster alone. River couldn’t help but wonder if she had made a huge mistake in changing her whole life and moving away from everyone.

In theory, leaving to pursue her own adventure and start a dream job working as a wildlife specialist at the Sierra Nevada Nature Museum had sounded like the best idea in the world. Especially after the messy breakup with her longtime boyfriend, Michael. This was supposed to be her new life—the new her. A chance for River to live life the way she wanted to without considering everyone else.

Her family had always been conservative, expecting her to give up everything to have kids and be a stay-at-home mom. Michael, her ex-fiancé, surprised her with the same expectations. He’d always seemed okay with her having ambitions, until suddenly he was not. Deciding his career as a trauma surgeon was enough for both of them and she should support him at home was shocking and unsettling. In their last argument, Michael had told her it was time to grow up and get serious.

She got serious, alright. Serious about dumping his ass then and there, without even thinking about all the years invested in the relationship. As someone who’d been in her life since the end of high school, the rest of the family had already considered him a part of it and assumed there’d be a marriage. River didn’t care, even when she was seen as unreasonable and selfish by everyone else.

For the first time in her thirty-two years, River was out of her parents’ home and living on her own completely independent. Her parents continued to hold out hope she’d change her mind, something they made clear with every phone call. Except once River left the city limits of San Diego, she unrolled the windows, blasted music, and let true freedom blow through her hair. She was finally brave enough to go for it and nothing was going to hold her back ever again.

This, of course, was before the pipe exploded in her kitchen and the apartment manager’s voicemail box continued being full. How tragic it would be to drown in her very first apartment. Her family would shake their heads and think, “Papita should have settled down and gotten married. If she had a husband, she wouldn’t have drowned in her kitchen.” This would be said while lighting the single veladora her mother owned, believing her fate was proof they’d been right about everything.

Unfortunately, spite wasn’t going to give her super strength for shutting off pipes.

“Hey!” came a gruff voice outside the door of her apartment. It sounded male and likely strong enough to twist anything. River would never admit she needed a man, but she wasn’t about to turn away muscles that made themselves available. Pride and independence didn’t solve all her problems.

River got to her feet, her bright pink Converse slipping on wet linoleum because of water splashing its way out of the large storage Tupperware. Earlier, she’d haphazardly dumped its contents to use it as an emergency bucket. River didn’t want her potential angel to get away before she could get to the front door. Despite looking like a drowned rat with a soaked tank top, wide-legged yoga pants, no make-up, and her shoulder-length hair curling from dampness, she made her way to the front door, plastering on a smile and expecting to greet a hero.

“Hi there! Do you think you can—” As soon as she came to the open doorway, her words died on her lips. For one thing, she hadn’t expected her cousin to have left as big of a mess as he did. She’d been inside the bathroom, her lunch from some food truck not entirely agreeing with her stomach, when he’d told her he had to leave and would get the rest of the boxes from the truck. River assumed he’d leave most of it in her living room, which is why her door was open. Instead, boxes were stacked in the alcove and on the stairs. This was Caesar’s first kid, so she didn’t entirely blame him for leaving in a frantic state of mind, but could this situation get any worse?

The other reason River stopped was because this man was the furthest from the gentle rescue angel she’d been expecting. With his stern brow and set jaw, here was a man who appeared ready for a fight—and the only other person here was her. There was a brief moment when their gazes connected, and he blinked, the hard mask temporarily melting before settling into something less intimidating but still rigid. He crossed his thick arms over his broad chest like he was an angry dad about to ground her. The pose made her want to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.

Everyone around her felt tall due to her five-one stature, but River doubted he reached six feet even if his presence alone added a few perceived inches. He was also incredibly tan, even more than she was as a Latina. This was a guy who spent a lot of time in the sun and likely didn’t slather on as much sunblock as he should. Not that he looked weathered, but rather quite lived-in from being outside. She would guess he wasn’t much older than her. His hair and what looked like a week-old beard were dark except for a few strands of silver weaving through his sideburns. His eyes were unusual, a gray color that popped in an unsettling way against the tan skin, and she couldn’t decide if it was him or her lunch continuing to make her stomach flip. He wasn’t pretty-boy handsome, but there was something here unmistakably ruggedly hot.

Pulling herself together, she again put on a friendly smile while tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “Hi, I’m—”

“Care to tell me why all these boxes are everywhere? You can’t just leave all your stuff around. You’re blocking my door—”

“I’m sorry,” she held up a finger to pause the conversation. Granted, she understood his frustration, but she had bigger problems. “I’m currently having an emergency in my apartment. A pipe burst under my kitchen sink, and water is spraying everywhere.” She motioned with a hand over her body to show the evidence of the uncontrolled water.

His demeanor changed from stern to no-nonsense as he dropped the bag from his shoulder to the ground. Without any words, he made his way into her apartment as if he were used to taking charge of situations. This was a good thing, because the giant storage Tupperware was nearly full. He went straight to the sink, reached into the cabinet, and turned the valve off like it was nothing. Honestly, it was embarrassing how easy he made it look but also kind of sexy.

“Look, didn’t your dad teach you how to shut off water pipes in case of an emergency? It’s right here. It’s your parents’ job to teach you these things because something’s always going to break, especially in older buildings like this one. I don’t care if it’s an apartment. You can’t depend on the manager to always be available or for strangers to do things for you. You need to learn how to do it yourself. Also, this isn’t a dorm room. You can’t just put your stuff wherever and think it’s cute because strangers might help you. It’s not.”

She blinked at the abruptness of his tough lecture. Okaaaay. Her previous thoughts about this guy being hot, sexy, and competent flew out the window because, apparently, he was also a giant jerk who enjoyed mansplaining. Granted, she’d always had a problem with people thinking she was a lot younger. River blamed it on her petite size and round cheeks, giving her an unfortunate baby face. But him treating her like she didn’t know anything and was some fresh-faced kid just out of college . . . well, screw that. Even if she were some eighteen-year-old, no one should be treated like this—especially for something not her fault, like a broken pipe.

Except getting mad and snapping someone’s head off had never been River’s style. Instead, she smiled, leaning against the end of the kitchen countertop to rest her chin in a hand, a position that also served her cleavage well. She could be nice, especially since he saved her from drowning in her first kitchen, but she was going to do it in her own unique way. “Usually when someone is kind enough to give me home-living tips, they introduce themselves first. Not that I don’t appreciate you sharing your wisdom with me,” she said calmly with a smile.

He pushed his brows together in a display of confusion. Good. Let him be thrown off by her. “Logan,” he grumbled after a minute.

She tilted her head as if thoroughly perplexed. “Sorry? Who’s Logan?”

“My name is Logan.”

She brightened, straightening and reaching out a hand, a reward for cooperating with her. “Hi, Logan. I’m River.” When he didn’t offer a hand, she went ahead and inserted hers into his as though he had. God, his hands were enormous and practically engulfed hers. His skin was rough but warm enough to feel cozy. She tried not to think about it as she stepped nearer, lifting her face to his.

In an awkward move to put some distance between them, he stepped backwards, bumping into the end of the large Tupperware, sloshing the water inside, and he nearly toppled over. River still had his hand and used her other one on his elbow, keeping him upright. “Oopsy daisy. You gotta be careful around here. You saved me, and now I saved you. Thanks, by the way. And, you know, you’re absolutely right that people should know how to turn off the water in an emergency. I was actually trying for awhile before you came along. It was really tight. But you don’t seem to have a problem with tight things at all, do you, Logan?” She continued to smile sweetly at him and may have even batted her eyelashes.