Bad Boy's Kiss (Firemen in Love Book 2) (11 page)

I hung up on him.

Only then, when I was alone again – like always – did I allow myself to cry.

Chapter 8 - Max

Anna told me not to call her. I'd like to say that didn't bother me, but it did.

“What do you think, man? T-bone or New York strip?”

Trey held up two packages of steaks. One of them had a little rip in the plastic. Bright-red juice dripped out onto my shoe. I was too involved with thinking about
her
to care much.

“Whatever's on sale, I guess.”

Without a real job anymore, I had to learn to be frugal with money. No more long nights at the bar; no more lap dances. My final check got deposited into my account the week prior. When I saw the numbers, it scared me. Made me sad, too.

I had a retirement fund and some decent money saved up, but that was dwindling fast. Here in Bastrop, my role with the fire department was of a volunteer nature. Probably for the best they didn't hire me for real, seeing as there weren't so many fires to fight and I was getting bored out of my mind.

Who was I kidding? The second they did a background check and called my former employer, they'd throw me back out on the street.

Trey tossed the t-bones into our cart and sighed. “What's gotten into Anna lately? She usually loves inviting us over for dinner. When I brought it up this week, she just looked at me, all sad like, and said it wasn't the best idea right now.”

I flinched. Was it
my
fault she was sad? Had what I said to her really hurt her feelings that much?

“Well, you know her family's coming down. That's gotta be tough on her.”

Didn't mention how she was panicking about the pregnancy fiasco. Nobody else seemed to notice her growing tummy, but I sure did. And if her mother wasn't oblivious, she'd notice too. I was starting to think some women had x-ray baby vision for this kind of stuff.

“Suppose she is stressed out. Mr. and Mrs. Southwell do have high expectations for their daughters.” He stopped in the canned goods aisle to grab some baked beans. “I remember back in high school, Rachael got a B on her report card in algebra. Boy, you should have seen her crying, like it was the end of the world.”

“You ask me, those people need to get off their high horse and stop expecting their kids to be perfect.”

“I dunno. I think they ride 'em so hard because they love them.” His gaze fixed on the shelf of creamed corn. “I'd rather be loved too much than not at all, if you know what I'm saying.”

Sure I did. As kids, mom and dad couldn't have cared less what we were up to. There was mom, who preferred TV talk shows, shopping, and getting her hair done to spending any time with us kids. Was it any wonder I grew up with such a poor view of women?

And then dad, who worked his hands to the bone to support our lifestyle – since mom was so adept at draining the family bank account, evidently. He was a good man, but often hit up the bars after work to deal with stress of it all. I didn't blame the guy one iota.

Trey eyed me as I dug through the discount produce bin. The regular potatoes were three bucks a sack, but I could get these wrinkly about-to-expire ones for a dollar. They already had roots growing out the eyes, but... That extra two bucks could pay for lunch tomorrow.

Man, this saving money thing was going to take some real getting used to.

I bet Anna was good at being frugal; she'd probably have lots of advice for me should I be humble enough to ask. She was nothing like her greedy mother, thank God.

“I've got to ask.” He put his hand on my shoulder. “You've been acting weird since you got here. There something going on you need to talk about?”

Yeah, plenty. Unfortunately, none of it was stuff I could share with him, for obvious reasons.

“Just getting a bit antsy. In Waco, I'm not used to this much downtime. There's
always
some dunce setting something on fire. Here, folks are a lot more... sensible, I suppose.” I dropped the wrinkled potatoes into the cart. “And the nightlife here leaves much to be desired, too.”

“Sorry there's not a bar on every corner, like in the big city. Y'know, it's not so bad when you got friends, family, and a good woman to love. Doubt you'd be fretting over the lack of strip clubs if you had that.”

“Love is too much trouble.”

“As opposed to what? Sure, it's easier to go on one-night stands. But someday, you'll be too old to go picking up chicks at bars. Then, the only girls who will touch a guy like you are the ones who you pay.”

I growled and rammed him with my shoulder as I pushed past. “Shut up. What the devil do you know? This is exactly why I moved away from this hick town. You simple-minded rednecks were always judging me.”

Trey didn't say anything more to me as he paid for the groceries. I gave him cash for my half, silently putting the bills in his hand, while I stood there wondering what was the matter with me.

I'd felt so different lately. Maybe it had to do with returning to my tiny hometown. Maybe that brought up old memories I'd rather not entertain.

Or maybe it was Anna. I couldn't get her off my mind. She was the first person I thought about upon waking and the last when I went to sleep. I
worried
about her, when the only one I ought to be worrying about was myself.

I had enough problems of my own. Didn't need to involve myself in hers, too.

Yet I wanted to help, 'cause seeing her stress out and cry made me sick.

We drove back to Trey's apartment to put away the groceries. I was so distracted by thinking of Anna that when I opened the freezer and a pile of TV dinners hit me in the head, I didn't even get a little mad.

Trey sighed and helped me pick the stack up. “You okay there, buddy? Got a concussion? Expected you'd be cursing up a storm after that one.”

“I'm used to getting injured. Part of the job.” I rubbed my sore head as I picked up a meatloaf meal. “You sure got a lot of these things. Figured with Rachael cooking you homemade dinners, you wouldn't need to be eating like a bachelor anymore.”

He laughed. “Rachael, cook? She's so busy at work, she hardly comes home at a decent hour for dinner. The poor woman lives off fast food and microwave mac-and-cheese cups.”

Something about this seemed sad to me, though I had no experience with girlfriends or what the eating arrangements were meant to be like. Maybe I was old-fashioned at heart, but I liked the idea of being served a hot meal after a long day on the job. It would be nice, sometimes, to sit down and talk to someone instead of chowing down alone in front of the TV.

I'd never met a woman who cared much for cooking and baking. Anna excluded, of course. When I finally went home, I sure was gonna miss her food.

Not as if she'd cook for me anymore after I found new ways to piss her off whenever we talked.

Trey's radio beeped on the table. It was the one he used for talking with other park rangers and the like.

“Yeah, man. What's up?”

“There's a bit of a situation about thirty miles west. Wind knocked down an old power line around dawn.” A man spoke to him through the radio, his words interspersed with static. “It caught some of the brush on fire. Nobody noticed until just recently, when the smoke started to rise and move toward town.”

My heart beat faster. A fire?

Trey frowned. “Is it under control? You think we'll need to evacuate?”

“Not yet. We got a team out there right now, but the wind's starting to pick up. We're gonna need some extra hands.”

“Send the coordinates to the Bastrop station. We'll send some guys to help out.”

Finally, they were giving me something to do! Just in time, too. Thought for sure I'd go outta my mind with boredom if I went through another day of this.

Trey turned to me. “Ready to do what you came here for?”

“You bet. I'm heading down to the station right now.”

He grabbed my arm as I jogged out the door. “Be careful, man. These wildfires aren't like the ones you know from the city. They're mighty unpredictable and can spread miles in minutes if the wind allows it. Out there, you're at nature's mercy.”

“Never met a fire I couldn't beat. If your team's any good, we'll have this thing licked by lunch time.”

“Don't get cocky.”

“It's not cockiness. It's confidence.”

I hopped in my rental van – the RV was too much a pain to drive around these small roads – and took off for the station. The men there had already gotten word about the fires.

One of them was watching the TV on the wall. News people had already jumped all over the story, as they did. They sure did like to make mountains outta molehills.

“This part of Texas is known for its long stretches of dry, dusty weather and occasional high winds,” said the reporter. “Such weather was the cause of the 2011 wildfire that destroyed over sixteen hundred homes, killed two, and caused approximately $325 million in damages. Firefighters are now taking every precaution to ensure such a disaster doesn't happen again – but as always, no one ever knows if Mother Nature might gain the upper hand.”

A helicopter hovered above the scene. Looked like the fire started in some isolated stretch of countryside, so it was no wonder it took awhile for folks to notice. Already, flames had burned a wide path through the trees and dead grass, which served as perfect kindling.

“We gotta get out there, pronto.” Jake, one of the locals, pointed to the TV. “If we lose even a single home this time...”

“We're not losing anything,” promised the chief, Chris. “Hey, new boy. You know how to handle a truck?”

“You bet your ass I do.”

He guffawed and smacked me on the back. “I like you, kid. You should consider staying with us full time.”

I didn't tell him this town bored me to death. Instead, I helped the others load up the truck and prepare to depart. While I waited, I thought of Anna again.

Wondered if she knew what was going on. Someone ought to let her know, right? So I called her but of course, she didn't pick up. A text message would have to do.

“Fire to our west. On the news,” I wrote. “Going to help out. Stay safe.”

I sent the message and waited hopefully for her reply. It never came. Why did that disappoint me so much?

“All right, fellas. Everyone in the trucks,” Chris yelled. He threw me the keys. “We're taking engine number two. I'll ride with you. Jake, you're coming with us.”

That all was okay by me. Chris was a bit of a hard-ass, but I respected him for it. Jake was single, like me, and loved making perverted jokes. Were I to stay in Bastrop, the three of us could have been good friends.

I hopped into the driver's seat and followed the GPS to the destination. Just over the hill, clouds of smoke were beginning to rise up. The wind blew fiercely, sending the fallout in our direction, toward town.

“I know it looks bad, but if we act fast, it won't have anywhere to spread,” Jake said.

“But what if it
does
spread? Just how many people we got out there?”

“Enough for now.”

I didn't like his answer. After what happened years before, that disastrous fire that wrecked houses and lives, they ought to have called in the National Guard. If the blaze got out of control, what were we supposed to do? We didn't have the equipment to handle this.

My phone vibrated in my pocket. I whipped it out with one hand and held onto the steering wheel with the other. Don't text and drive – I knew better – but right then I didn't care.

It was a message from Anna. “You be safe too,” it said. Made me feel warm inside.

“Look at that dopey grin on his face.” Jake nudged me. “Save talking to your girlfriend for later.”

“She's not my girl.”

Chris's eyes rolled. “Sure, buddy. Even a moron knows what that look of yours means. So, who's the lady? Found somebody in town already?”

“It's just Anna Southwell. We're friends, that's all.”

The guys quieted. Had I said something wrong?

“Oh,” said Jake. “I thought she was with that...”

Chris smacked his arm. “Drop it, okay?”

Nothing more about it was said, thankfully, but the whole thing made me feel weird. Seemed like folks in Bastrop were quite the gossipy sort. There were so few people, and the neighborhoods so close and tight-knit, everyone was always in one another's business.

But there was no time for drama. I got off the highway and followed the side path into the woods. It was such a narrow road, the truck took up both lanes. I prayed nobody would come flying around the bend in the opposite direction.

In this area, the smoke blanketed the valley like thick fog. Sirens screamed in the distance. Ahead, a truck from some other town flew down the hill, its lights flashing red and white.

“They're set up a base camp outside the safe zone perimeter. Just follow that truck and we'll go right to it.”

The other guys led us to the parking lot of an old convenience store, which looked like it had been closed down and abandoned for decades. All the windows were busted out, the shelves coated in cobwebs and dirt, and the walls smothered with colorful graffiti.