High Heat

by Annabeth Albert

  “It’s okay. You can ask me about the accident. I’m not gonna bite your head off for asking questions.” Garrick might be crankier these days, but he was still himself, still happy to talk to almost anyone and wasn’t one to make certain topics taboo, even if he’d rather listen to his dad discuss the minutiae of new horse tack than recount that day of the accident. And as to Rain’s specific question, he had to pause, flip response at the ready. But strangely what came out was closer to the truth. “And sometimes. I mean, I love seeing my buddies. But yeah...sometimes it’s...different.”

  Different. That was it. Not hard precisely, although it could be that too, but different. Changed. And he hated it even as he tried to ignore those feelings, the jumble of emotions better left shoved in the crawlspaces of his psyche, not strewn about for public consumption.

  “I bet.” Rain’s look was sympathetic, but he didn’t press, instead backing out of the space and heading toward their neighborhood without needing further directions. He was a quick study, something Garrick appreciated in a person. Perceptive too, not continuing down that line of conversation. “Is it okay if I park in your driveway while we unload?”

  “Of course.” Speaking of ignoring things, Garrick tried to squelch the weird mix of anticipation and dread at the prospect of having Rain in his space. A million years ago, he would have known exactly what to do with his Saturday, wouldn’t have had dog-proofing remotely on the agenda, and would have needed a cutie like Rain for far sexier purposes. Different. That was his life now and there was nothing served by dwelling on the less-than-fun parts. All he could do was go forward. He’d make the best of this situation with the dog, same as he did any other. And if that meant enjoying Rain’s company a little longer...well, he was only human, after all.

  * * *

  As they unloaded in the driveway, Garrick’s demeanor had a certain stiffness that hadn’t been there earlier—lines around his mouth, hunched shoulders—and Rain hated it. He should have known better than to bring up unhappy topics. But he’d seen how tense Garrick was around his fellow smoke jumper. Watching them, his chest had pinched in an unfamiliar way. At first he’d wondered if perhaps it was he himself who had Garrick on edge—the whole dude bro thing of not wanting to look like he was on a date or otherwise entangled with another person of the masculine variety. And Rain hadn’t missed Jimenez’s blatantly speculative gaze. But then when Garrick had easily made introductions but still been oddly stilted, he’d figured that it was probably Jimenez’s sympathy and offer of help. It had to be tough on Garrick, not being able to be out there with his crew.

  If Garrick was a friend, Rain would know better what to say, how to distract him or get him to open up, and would be able to tell which he needed more. Not knowing made him want to try harder to get Garrick smiling again.

  “Wait till you see the toys I picked for her. I found a clearance bin with some fun items,” he said as he positioned the wheelchair for Garrick. A couple of years prior, his parents had had a close friend who used a wheelchair, so Rain had some experience unfolding the device. However, Paula had needed more help transferring, and it was hard not to hover as Garrick completed the maneuver.

  “I’m more concerned with why she needs a pink fluffy bed.”

  “Everyone needs a pink fluffy bed.” He grinned as he let the dog out of the back seat. “And I know, I know, the pink undoubtedly doesn’t go with your style, but it’s part of a plan I’ve got.”

  “I’m listening.” Garrick spared a pat for Cookie before heading up the ramp to his porch, leaving Rain to follow with Cookie’s new loot.

  “I want to take some more pictures of her, both to find her owner, and if that doesn’t work, to get her a forever home. And I was thinking about how to make her look less scary and decided to make her a pretty, pretty pink princess. Like lean into all the gendered stuff, but in a fun way that makes her seem more approachable. Pink sparkly collar, pink bed, unicorn chew toy...”

  “If it gets her a home.” Garrick didn’t seem too put out as he unlocked the door, which was nice. “And if you had fun picking it out, then that’s cool.”

  “Trust me. I’m jealous of the bed. And the collar.” For a second, Rain forgot that he wasn’t in Portland, wasn’t around friends who understood him, but whatever. He wasn’t making any apologies for liking what he liked. And instead of looking disgusted, Garrick looked...speculative. And wasn’t that interesting?

  “Not everyone can pull off sparkles.” With a welcome laugh, Garrick ushered them into a small living area.

  “Some of us never outgrew our princess phase.” He winked at Garrick before looking around. Like at Grandma’s house, the space was an upside-down L-shape with living room and dining room in a line with a sliding glass door to the backyard beyond the dining room and a kitchen to the side. But whereas Grandma’s kitchen was walled off, art clutter on every available surface in the older house, Garrick’s home was recently remodeled with the kitchen open to the rest of the space, clean ivory walls and light wood cabinets and floors making it look far bigger than Grandma’s.

  “Did you do the remodel yourself? This is really nice.”

  “Most of it, yeah. Got a great deal on the house because it hadn’t been touched since it was built. Still had the original avocado-colored countertops and walnut cabinets with gold carpet everywhere. I worked a couple of winters for a home store in Bend, got some good discounts on materials and got lucky with some friends who could help. Demo was hella fun, bashing everything in.” Garrick got a wistful expression on his face, making Rain worry they were heading into uncomfortable memory territory again, but then he shook his head, as if making a conscious choice to reach for something happy. “Man, that work party for the backyard was epic too. Come on, I’ll show you why it’s not the best for a dog.”

  Still holding Cookie’s leash, Rain followed him to the glass doors. Like Garrick’s front yard, which was mainly concrete and artful use of rock and gravel, the backyard didn’t have any grass, instead consisting of a wide patio that ran the whole length of the house, multiple seating areas, a hot tub, a firepit, and several raised beds and trellis structures with hearty-looking plants.

  “Wow. Forget the work party, you must have epic parties period. This is the most entertaining-friendly space I’ve seen outside of the common areas at the cohousing community where I grew up, and those are more functional—lots of vegetable gardens and benches—but this is begging for some drinks and a dude on a guitar.”

  “Yeah. I’ve had more than a few of those gatherings.” Garrick’s toothy grin radiated pride. “We work long, unpredictable hours as smoke jumpers, so I wanted a really chill, low-maintenance space for hanging out. Only drought-resistant plants and no grass. Sorry, Cookie.”

  “I think she’ll be okay. There’s a patch of dirt over there. If she has to come back here in a pinch, I’ll clean for you. Otherwise, I’ll do the walks like we talked about. Now, let’s see the rest of the place, things she could get into, maybe see where you want to keep her at night. I thought about a crate, but I wasn’t sure how you felt about crate training.”

  “It works for puppies, but I can probably keep her with me, honestly.” Backing up, Garrick rolled down a short hallway near the kitchen. He sounded exactly like a dog-loving guy who could be Cookie’s forever home if he’d only give it a chance. Garrick pushed open the door to a larger-than-expected bedroom.

  “You took out the third bedroom and added a slider to the patio,” Rain guessed. The room was about double the size of Grandma’s and dominated by a large bed. It had to be one of those adjustable kinds because the head on one side was raised. A hanging metal triangle for getting up and a wheeled tray table added to the functional vibe—not a ton of color or art outside a tie-dyed duvet cover he recognized as one of Grandma’s designs, and a large plant in the corner by the door, but it had a well-lived-in vibe, complete with a gas fireplace that Rain dug.
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  “Yeah, we bashed in the wall to the smallest bedroom. I really only needed two rooms, one for sleeping and one as an office-slash-gym, and getting a king-size bed to fit was a priority when planning the bachelor pad of my dreams.”

  “Bachelor dream house, huh?” Rain was trying to not be too nosy, but it was hard when he was so curious. “Never tempted to do the whole family thing?”

  Another storm cloud crossed Garrick’s face. Damn it. Rain had stepped in it again.

  “I was engaged. Million years ago, feels like it. Nice woman. Loved her pink and sparkles, so you and Cookie would have approved.”

  “I’m sure.” Rain sent a quick wish out to the universe that the past tense didn’t mean this was a super tragic story.

  “Anyway, she and her glitter-loving self moved to LA. Just couldn’t stand country life any longer. And me... I got pretty damn good at the whole bachelor life thing.”

  “Damn. That sucks.” So, not a tragedy, but still he felt for Garrick’s younger self. Even if he was playing it lightly, Rain could sense his underlying tension. It had to have hurt. And the existence of an ex-fiancée was, if not definitive proof, strong evidence that he was as straight as Rain had originally assumed, speculative look notwithstanding.

  “How about you? Oh wait. You’re like what? Twenty?” Garrick laughed. And there he went, dismissing Rain as a kid again. Rain couldn’t help bristling.

  “Twenty-three. I look young, I know.”

  “It’s the hair and cheeks,” Garrick teased. “You’re going to be one of those people who gets carded at forty.”

  “Not much I can do there. And to answer the question, I’ve dated. Not a ton, but some. No engagements.” He was deliberately gender neutral, not particularly feeling like coming out, but also he was never very good at hiding it very long. Garrick would undoubtedly figure out that Rain marched to a rainbow beat sooner rather than later if he hadn’t already.

  “Good. You’ve got all the time in the world to wait on that stuff. Have fun. Play the field.”

  “You make it sound like you’re ancient.”

  “Nah. But...my partying days are likely behind me.”

  “With that backyard? Hardly.” Rain still wasn’t entirely sure about the extent of Garrick’s injuries, but he didn’t see any reason why his social life should take a nosedive.

  “Yeah. We’ll see what the summer brings.” Garrick made a dismissive gesture. “So, do you think if we bring Cookie’s bed in here and put it in the corner, she’ll stay if I shut the door at night?”

  “It’s worth a try. And I’m a night owl. If she starts howling or something, I could come back.” He tried to keep the offer from sounding flirty by patting Cookie at the same time. “No people bed for you, you hear? I’d say the biggest risk is you tripping on her in the middle of the night with the crutches, so maybe leave a light on?”

  “That’s smart.” Garrick rubbed his shaggy hair. “That’s my worry too. She was scared of the crutches earlier though, so maybe she’ll stay back. You see anything in here she might eat? Guess I should have you move the plant to the deck.”

  “I can do that.” Rain dragged the plant out the sliding door before studying the rest of the room, which didn’t even have as much as a throw rug out of place. “And you’re remarkably clean—no socks for her to eat on the floor or things like that.”

  “Well I have to keep a clear floor for the crutches and the wheelchair. My dad helps, and he found me a service that’s doing some cleaning too. I stayed with him for a while after the hospital and rehab facility, but I really missed my own place.”

  “That’s cool. I’ve always lived with family or roommates, but I’d be ready to be home too. It’s just different being in someone else’s space.”

  “Exactly. I know my dad worries about me falling or something, but I’m happier here.”

  “I feel you both. And I know you’re worried about tripping on Cookie or one of her belongings. We’ll stash the bed out of the way, and I bet we could train Cookie to pick up her toys if you point to them.”

  “The weekend. She is staying the weekend,” Garrick reminded him, but his tone was less firm than it had been at the vet’s.

  “Yes, yes. Still bet I can teach her before I leave. Let me find the biscuits and the toys.”

  Forget his pretty pink adoptable princess plan, Rain was totally going to convince him to keep the dog if the owner couldn’t be found. The guy seemed a little at loose ends, like his grandma had when she’d first decided to stop traveling and buy the house, and before she’d adopted Mimi and Molly as a bonded pair of siblings. They could be little demons, but they gave Grandma a structured routine that she seemed to need, the same way chores at the cohousing community kept people engaged and involved. People needed to be needed, even if they didn’t always realize it, and Rain was going to prove to Garrick that he and Cookie were meant to be together. After all, Rain himself was swimming in free time until he could sort out his employment situation. He could spare the time to play canine matchmaker.

  Chapter Three

  “Bedtime for us.” Garrick felt somewhat strange talking to the dog, but after several hours of temporary dog ownership, it was less weird than it had been. Rain had gone away to eat dinner with Shirley, then returned to take Cookie for a short walk in deference to her hurt foot. She’d taken to the sparkling collar Rain had picked out like a champ, not even protesting any and had happily gone trotting off with Rain. Even the quick walk coupled with a big dinner seemed to have tired her out. She had been dozing next to his recliner while he’d mindlessly surfed previews for shows until he too decided that it had been a long day.

  He scanned the floor as he got his crutches ready, looking for any stray toys or pet spills, but the way was clear other than the stuffed unicorn that Cookie already seemed bonded with.

  “Get your toy,” he ordered, trying to echo the same uber-enthusiastic tone Rain had used when teaching her to retrieve her toys. Someone had clearly attempted to teach her fetch at some point because she’d been a fast study. Well, that and she’d wanted the biscuits. Showing a new stubborn streak, she stayed lying down until he rattled the treat bag and repeated the command. “Fetch. Get your toy.”

  Tail wagging, she complied, bringing him the unicorn in exchange for yet another little morsel. “Good girl. Now come.”

  Sticking the toy in one pocket and the treats in the other, he hefted himself up with the crutches. After months of casts and braces, it still felt weird not having to account for the extra bulk. There was some talk at PT of trying a new type of braces if the insurance would cover them. While he didn’t like the weight of the casts and braces, he was in favor of anything that got him to his ultimate goal of getting back out there sooner.

  In his room, he tossed the dog toy on Cookie’s ridiculous pink bed. “Go lie down.”

  It took some more encouraging, but finally she spun in a circle and plopped on the bed, leaving him free to make his way to the shower in the attached bathroom. Being able to do this on his own was new too, and it was still a little unwieldy, getting set on the shower chair, making sure everything was in reach, but it beat being scuzzy. Which he’d felt most of the day next to Rain with his pretty shirt and gleaming hair. And not that he cared what Rain thought, but he still took his time in the tub, even shaving with his shower mirror. Like haircuts, shaving had become a when-he-remembered-and-could-be-bothered event.

  And thinking about Rain, even tangentially, while warm and wet and soapy was a bad, bad idea. Why on earth did his cock have to pick now to come back online? He’d played around some on his own previously with disappointing results that he wasn’t sure how to bring up to the doctors. Everyone was so focused on getting him walking again that complaining about his dick felt both petty and embarrassing. But now he was raring to go, only he didn’t want to risk ending up in a slippery heap on the shower floor. Als
o, he didn’t want to be the guy perving on the too-young dog walker who might also be a new friend. And maybe too he didn’t want another disappointment.

  On that sour note, he carefully exited the shower and pulled on a pair of stretchy shorts for sleeping. Emerging from the bathroom, he pulled up short in front of the bed where a very happy, very sleepy Cookie was lounging against his pillows.

  “Hey! I thought I told you to lie on your bed.”

  Thump. Thump. Wagging her tail, she gave him a canine grin.

  “That’s the people bed. Yours is over there.” He pointed at her bed. “Go lie down.”

  Helpfully, she scooted over about ten inches but otherwise didn’t seem inclined to budge.

  “Five minutes, okay? Five minutes and then you’re going to your bed.” Sitting next to her, he adjusted the bed’s angle. Replacing his previous cheap king set with this setup had been a bit of a splurge, but it beat the rental hospital bed he’d had at his dad’s. He was a big guy. He needed his space. And he was not prepared to share that space with a stubborn pooch.

  “Go lay down,” he tried again after giving her some pats, but all she did was move to the foot of the other side of the bed. Yawning and out of energy, he was no match for a stubborn dog. “Fine, fine. Let’s not tell Rain that you rejected his bed selection.”

  Usually nights were hard—his pain level tended to spike at night in unpredictable ways, his sleep could be fitful, and his mind raced through hundreds of dismal scenarios. He’d never had an anxiety problem before the accident, but lately, calming down at night was particularly problematic. If he was physically exhausted, it was easier, but then physical tiredness tended to mean more pain, which meant more sleeplessness, which meant more time for worries to charge back up.

  But that night he didn’t even need to play on his phone and was asleep even before he could try again to get Cookie to move. The next thing he knew it was morning—and not crack-of-dawn morning either, but a sunny eight o’clock. A banging noise was coming from the front door.