Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 93096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Should he ask Luis in when he dropped him off? Would that look like an obvious pretext? Some sort of move that he wasn’t even sure he knew how to make? Get over yourself. He sounded worse than one of the boys, all hung up on some crush who had no clue about his inner dithering. Not that this was a crush. Even if he enjoyed Luis’s company beyond their past connection, it still wasn’t any sort of infatuation. He had plenty of coworkers whom he enjoyed spending time with. Luis didn’t have to be any different.
“Thanks again for the ride,” he said as they walked back from the main offices to the parking lot at the air base. “Are you sure Blaze won’t miss you?”
“You remembered my cat’s name?” A small, pleased smile danced across Luis’s face, early evening sun still plenty bright and glinting off his dark hair. “She’s remarkably independent. I’m honestly not sure she even likes me.”
“Of course she likes you. You’re her human and you feed her.” Tucker had had more than enough animals to know that food generally equaled love and devotion.
“Well... Mike’s the one who rescued her. It’s been years, but I don’t think she’s ever forgiven me for him not coming home.”
From Luis’s regretful tone Tucker gathered that maybe the cat wasn’t the one who needed to do the forgiving. Tucker knew a little about guilt, and he wanted to touch Luis’s arm or shoulder, tell him that whatever had happened wasn’t his fault, but it wasn’t Tucker’s place to touch him.
“That’s rough.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. He’d never lost someone, not like that at least. He struggled for the right words. “But Blaze travels with you. There’s got to be some bond there.”
“She deigns to accompany me rather than terrorize a pet sitter,” Luis joked, but his smile was tight and narrow.
“How about you?” Tucker tried to keep his voice gentle, not pushy. “Have you coped better than her? Something like that...it had to take some time to get over.”
“It’s not really the sort of thing you get over.” Even his tight smile was gone now, replaced by a more somber expression. “You move on, sort of grudgingly because there’s no choice but to put one foot in front of the other. But over? If there’s a secret recipe for that, I haven’t found it.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make light.” Tucker paused on the edge of the parking lot.
“It’s okay. One thing I learned is that people who haven’t been there seldom know what to say. Even Mami, who should know better, harps on the idea of me finding someone new. Not happening.”
There was a warning there, a note of caution, and it landed square in Tucker’s chest. Don’t get attached. He doesn’t have anything left to give. Tucker wasn’t sure that was entirely true, but he got the message, loud and clear. He wanted to say something else, maybe probe why Luis wasn’t looking for anything romantic, but then he heard his name called.
“Ryland! What brings you around here?” A smoke jumper, Lincoln Reid, strode across the gravel lot toward them. Tucker had gone to school with him as well as Garrick, and they were at least friendly if not close friends. “Are we about to get a big callout?”
“No callout. Hate to disappoint you. You look like you’re spoiling for a jump.”
“Maybe so. I’m working as a spotter this season though, so less jumping for me. Old knees.”
“Ha. Now you’re going to make me feel old too. We’re here on an arson investigation. This is Luis Rivera. He’s taking point on that and some other fire behavior work.”
“I know you.” Linc stuck out a hand for Luis. “You were in school with us, weren’t you? Through...sophomore year maybe?”
“Right as junior year started, yeah. Surprised you remember.” Eyes narrowing, Luis returned the handshake. Back then, Linc had had his own rougher crowd, which had crossed with Tucker via football, but neither Tucker nor Luis had been high on the invite list for any of that crowd’s parties and hell-raising.
“Of course I remember you. You’re the one famous for starting a fight of some kind with paint. I forget what play it was though...”
“The Grinch. I was green for weeks.” Luis grinned.
“Yeah, that was it. How’s it been? Are you back for good?”
“No. Just helping out a shorthanded office here. On loan from Angeles National Forest.” Luis’s emphatic tone was a good reminder that his time here was short and finite. He rather clearly didn’t have any desire to rekindle a fondness for the area—or anything else for that matter.
“Ah. Good. We can use all the help we can get around here. Busy fire season this year, that’s for sure. I hope we can get to the bottom of the arson.”