Page 9 of Love in the Time of Wildfires

“Hey! Sonny! Over here!” his squad called to him from a large circular table. He was one of the last to arrive, which was fine with him. When it came to these things, his motto was Last to arrive, first to leave. While he did want to keep an eye on the crew, he stopped short of tucking them in at night. Usually he’d grumble a goodbye when he’d had enough noise and activity and let them be.

One bit of good news—he didn’t see any sign of River. It was annoying how much his heart sped while walking through the door, and how his eyes betrayed him in scanning everyone to look for her. Every part of him hated that he did it and also despised the small feeling of disappointment when she wasn’t there. He should be relieved that he could relax and enjoy a cold beer without feeling like his veins were squeezing together under his skin.

He’d only been back in town for a few days after being gone for a week and a half. This time, fighting a fire in southern Utah. While it had been a decent fire, the squad had come to the consensus that it hadn’t been a good one—the blaze not big enough to rack up all the overtime needed for a nice cushion. He’d once again have to take side gigs, like doing brush fire inspections at the Sierra Nevada Nature Museum, to make the extra money needed for his future retirement cabin. Even so, he’d been leery about taking the job because he didn’t want to take the chance of running into River.

“Come on,” his boss had told him at the time. “It’s an easy job. Take the money. Plus, it’ll look good. I heard a rumor the mayor is going to give you an award this year.”

“For what?” Logan hadn’t done anything extraordinary to warrant any accolades.

“You know, the usual. For being heroic or some shit. If you have to make a speech, please don’t go off on one of your lectures. Just say thank you and enjoy the party in your honor.”

Logan had rolled his eyes because he didn’t need any awards or parties given in his honor—especially since he’d only been doing a job. If anyone was going to give him anything, how about giving him and his fellow firefighters a decent wage so they didn’t have to find side work to make a decent living? Hmm. Logan should mention that in any potential acceptance speech. Either way, it didn’t matter because he wasn’t going anyway, and he was only staying at this bar for an hour before going home.

“Hey, Sonny, is River still coming?” Damon asked, as soon as Logan slid into the circular booth beside him.

“How the hell would I know?”

“You do live right next to her. You guys could have carpooled. Save the environment and all that.”

“Wait . . . Who’s River?” Grace asked from across the table, wrapping her hair into a loose bun, her eyes sparking with interest.

Before Logan could warn them about his neighbor, Damon jumped in. “She’s a really cute girl that just moved in next door to—”

“She’s not a girl. She’s a woman,” Logan corrected. Since he’d learned she wasn’t underage, he wasn’t about to let anyone else get this impression either. River was a full-fledged adult, so it wasn’t weird she should be hanging out with him . . . or them . . . or anything. Besides, she wasn’t hanging out because she wasn’t here.

“Fine. She’s a really cute woman who lives next door to this sad stud.”

“You’re dating again, Sonny?” Marcus asked.

“What? No. What are you guys? My mother? No dates. Not her, not anyone.”

Marcus held up his hand as though calming some wild beast. “Okay, sorry. Geez.” He then leaned toward Jake and said under his breath, “If that’s not evidence that someone needs to get some, I don’t know what is.”

“Why don’t you text her and make sure she’s coming and isn’t lost,” Damon suggested.

“No.”

“Fine. Give me her number and I’ll text her.” The other man pulled his cell out.

“I don’t have her number. She’s just some random neighbor of mine. We’re not friends. I don’t need to swap information with her.” There was no reason for anyone, including Damon, to have her number. His squad didn’t need to get any smart ideas, which was why it was a good thing she wasn’t here. Maybe she was one of those people who agreed to plans but, by the time they got off, would rather go home. He found this to be a great idea.

Logan took a sip from his beer as the door pushed open and bad news walked through, sparkling. He choked on the alcohol, some of it dribbling onto his shirt.

“What the hell? Are you okay, man?” Damon asked, giving his back a good smack, which didn’t help with his composure.

Grace, more observant than the rest of them, swung her gaze toward Logan’s previous focus. River had entered wearing a glitter tank top over tiny white shorts, displaying long, lean legs despite her petite stature. Her short dark bob was in soft waves, framing her face.

She hadn’t spotted them yet, and Logan’s heart softened a bit when she slipped a strand behind her ear. River was anxious. Who wouldn’t be nervous meeting with a bunch of rowdy hotshots she didn’t know? Yet she’d come anyway, even on her birthday. She clearly had enough courage to go for it. On his side, he’d rather fight fires all day long than talk to people, let alone strangers.

There was a part of him wishing this hadn’t been with a huge group of characters, but instead him alone. Maybe it would’ve put her at ease. That was ridiculous, though, because why would that even happen? This wasn’t a date and wasn’t about to be one.

“Holy shit,” Grace said, eyes growing wide. “That’s got to be her, right? Sonny, as your friend, get your act together and lock that one down because she’s gorgeous.” Great. So now he didn’t have to worry about just Damon, because it seemed River was also Grace’s type as well. Not that it was surprising everyone found River cute. He, on the other hand, was doing his best to avoid her because he didn’t enjoy how quickly she made him feel undone.

“Stop it,” he replied, followed by a frustrated breath.

“Are you really not going to get her? You’re such a bridge troll,” Damon said before cupping his hands and shouting, “River! Over here!”

As soon as she noticed them, her whole face lit up. Logan’s intestines tied themselves into knots.