Feel the Fire (Hotshots)

by Annabeth Albert

  That was a loaded question, one Tucker still wasn’t quite sure how to answer for himself. He took a minute to study a picture of a salmon on the wall. “Attraction is pretty rare for me, but I’m not opposed to the idea of someone in my life romantically. Most often that attraction seems to be other guys I feel a significant bond with.” His face heated and his lips went dry. He wasn’t sure whether he wanted Luis to know how much he actually did yearn for connection, how lonely he got sometimes. He liked the idea of someone in his life, in his bed very much, but finding that person hadn’t seemed very likely. Until, of course, Luis strode back into his life, and that old connection kept sparking present attraction. “And in any event, I’m not exactly...”

  “Out.” Shoulders slumping, Luis shook his head like he hadn’t expected any different but was disappointed nonetheless.

  Tucker had been about to say looking, but he figured he might as well address Luis’s implicit assumption. “Well, that’s where it gets complicated. I’m not out at work, no, but after Heidi and I split, my family was...damn, it was bad, the things they said about her, the way they treated her. Like she was a cheater and abandoning her duty to her family.”

  “That had to be hard.” Luis shifted, moving his hand restlessly, almost like he wanted to reach for Tucker but thought the better of it. Tucker liked that impulse, though, maybe more than he should. He felt the warmth of Luis’s concern almost as surely as if they had touched.

  “It was, yeah. I just couldn’t stand their assumptions and attitude anymore, and finally, one day when I was helping Dad and Aaron in the barn, I just had enough and told them it wasn’t Heidi’s fault that we split. Wasn’t her fault that I was mainly attracted to men and that she deserved a marriage that made her happy in every area.”

  “Wow.” Luis fumbled his fork, narrowly avoiding it hitting the table. And wow was right. Tucker wasn’t one to get fanciful about single decisions, but that right there had been a defining moment in his adulthood, the point where he finally felt like his own man.

  “Well...that went over about as well as you’re probably thinking. Nothing’s been the same with them since. Frosty with no sign of thaw, guess you could say.” That was putting it nicely, but he wasn’t going to let his feelings over their reaction join his already raw emotional state. “But at least they laid off Heidi, and honestly, it was...freeing. Them knowing. Haven’t felt the need to share it with the whole town or work, but it’s also no longer this...dark secret either.”

  “That...that’s something.” Luis nodded sharply. “I know it probably doesn’t make any difference, but I’m proud of you. Standing up for her like that. Standing up for both of you. It couldn’t have been easy.”

  Luis was wrong. It did make a difference, him saying that. Tucker hadn’t told many people this story, and having Luis proud of him made his shoulders lift, filled him with new certainty that he’d done the right thing.

  “Dessert?” The young server, who had been blessedly absent during their talk, arrived to clear their dinner plates.

  “I believe there was a promise of pie?” Luis grinned, seeming to sense that Tucker needed lightness right then, not more heavy conversation.

  “Yep. Marionberry. Bet you can’t get those down in LA.”

  “Not easily at least. Get a piece for you and I’ll taste it.”

  “Sure.” Tucker placed the order with the server, who seemed to find their little exchange amusing judging by his small smile, and he arrived back with the pie and two forks in short order. The menu called it a hand pie, but eating it by hand would be asking to spend the rest of the evening wearing berries.

  “Try it.” Tucker moved the plate to in the middle to encourage Luis to take more than a single taste. And again, he was unprepared for the eroticism of Luis eating. He took a small bite, but savored it, tongue sweeping out to catch the last drop of berry juice. Eyes briefly fluttering shut, he gave a small smile, one that hit Tucker low in some warm and sensitive spot.

  Tucker wasn’t someone who got crushes easily and didn’t generally get turned on by random acts like eating. Honestly, Heidi’s textbook had gone a long way to repairing his self-esteem. He didn’t have a broken sex drive, nor was he a failure as a husband, two worries that had plagued him before he came to a place of self-acceptance. It wasn’t that he never got turned on, but generally it happened after he knew someone for a long time, a slow smolder versus lightning-quick ignition.

  You know Luis, his body seemed determined to remind him. Yes, he did. But acting on the rogue heat in his belly would be ill-advised. They were only now starting to inch their way back to something approaching friendliness, understanding replacing the bitterness and old hurts. It would be foolish in the extreme to try to pursue...well, anything really. Luis wasn’t sticking around, and Tucker didn’t have a clue how to do casual. Bad, bad idea.

  But that reminder faded as they split the check, body thrumming with awareness of Luis’s nearness as they walked out. Strangely reluctant to end the evening, he followed Luis over to his car—a sporty little red compact. No bumper stickers, but two figurines in the rear window—some baseball player and a superhero, same franchise as Tucker’s phone case.

  “Guess I’m not the only one who liked the reboot.” He gestured at the window.

  “Eh. It was okay.” A little smile teased the edges of Luis’s mouth as he fiddled with his keys. “Thanks. This dinner suggestion...it was a good idea.”

  “Yeah, it was. One of my best.” Tucker meant the conversation, how good it had felt to lay everything out there, but then their eyes met, and the meaning shifted to something personal and intimate, an expression of how much he’d enjoyed the company and how much he rather desperately wanted to do it again.

  Luis held his gaze, not wavering, and when his tongue darted out to lick his lower lip, the harsh kick of arousal almost stole Tucker’s next breath. God, it would be so easy to lean in and—

  Honk. Damn it. A car wanted into the empty space where he was standing. And with that, whatever spell had had him on the verge of kissing Luis was broken. They nodded and waved, a hurried goodbye. He wanted to imagine that Luis was as flustered as he was, but Luis probably had hundreds of near-kisses to his name and might not have even noticed Tucker’s deliberation.

  Yeah, that was it. He hadn’t noticed. And that was what Tucker told himself the whole drive home. The car the boys shared was parked haphazardly in the drive, and he prepared another lecture about how to share the driveway as he let himself into the house. Not surprisingly, he found the boys with their heads in the fridge.

  “Didn’t you eat at Mary Anne’s?”

  “Yeah, but asking for seconds might have been rude.” Wade gave him a grin. “And there wasn’t any dessert.”

  “Found it!” Walker came up with a carton of the local brand of moose tracks ice cream Tucker had hidden in the back of the freezer. “You want some, Dad? And you’re later than usual.”

  “Nah. I stopped for dinner with...a friend from work.” He’d paused way too long trying to decide what to label Luis and stumbled over the rest of his explanation. And damn him for forgetting to text both of them. “That brewery with the short ribs I like so much. And we lingered a bit over dessert, so I think I’m good on sweets.”

  “Dessert?” Walker’s mouth quirked. “Lingering?”

  “Was this a date?” Ever more direct, Wade’s eyes narrowed as he considered Tucker.

  “Date? No, no, I don’t do that,” he blustered as Wade grabbed a pair of bowls for Walker who already had the ice cream scoop. Tucker had to turn away from Wade’s continued speculative gaze. “It was just a friend. Someone I knew a long time ago. That’s all.”

  “You forgot to text us where you were,” Walker mused as he scooped the ice cream. “You never do that.”

  “And you had dessert.” Wade wasn’t dropping this any more than Walker, apparently, and T
ucker groaned and grabbed himself a bowl. Maybe he did need some sugar to survive this conversation.

  “Yeah. Are you sure it wasn’t a date?” Walker gave him a small scoop while giving himself and Wade monster portions. He might know Tucker’s ice cream preferences without being asked, but he was wrong here.

  “I’m sure.” Tucker was not trying to start something with Luis. That moment when they could have kissed notwithstanding, he knew better. But damn if his stomach didn’t still quiver with the memory of it. He might want, but he wasn’t going to have, and that was what mattered.

  “Good.” Walker was surprisingly emphatic, to the point that Tucker had to tilt his head, try to decide if something else was going on with the kid.

  “Don’t listen to him.” Wade rolled his eyes and jostled Walker’s shoulder. “He’s thinking that one lovesick dude is enough around here. I’m thinking that it’s past time that you got la—”

  “Hey now.” Tucker shook his spoon at Wade. Him meddling in Tucker’s sex life in any way was the last thing any of them needed.

  Wade, however, wasn’t deterred, sly smile and impish eyes. “Even Mom thinks that you need—”

  “And she’s entitled to that opinion.” Tucker had determined years and years ago to never badmouth or contradict Heidi in front of the boys, but she too was wrong about this. He didn’t need to date. And even Heidi and the endless “don’t be lonely, Tucker” refrain would agree that anything with Luis would be foolish. “But I don’t need or want to date. I’m good. Promise.”

  And he was. Two great kids. Roof over their heads. Job he enjoyed. Friends. He didn’t need anything else, but even hours later as he climbed under the covers, a part of him still wanted. Damn it.

  Chapter Six

  Tucker had been about to kiss him last night. Of that, Luis was sure, and even now as he reviewed fire data, the restless night and a dragging morning behind him, he was still obsessing over what hadn’t happened. And what had—them finally talking everything out, him seeing some more of the man Tucker had become. Strong, standing up to that family of his. While Luis’s teen self had wanted Tucker to be willing to make that choice at seventeen, as an adult Luis understood better what a hard position Tucker had been in as a kid. His super-strict family wouldn’t have taken well to news of Tucker being anything other than straight and destined for ranching life. Asking a kid with few employable skills to break from the life he’d been raised to accept was a big ask, and Luis got that now.

  Respect. That was what Luis kept coming back to as he shuffled through papers, letting admiration for who Tucker was now chase out bitterness over who they’d both once been. But with that respect came a dangerous attraction and endless replaying of that almost-kiss. He would have let Tucker kiss him, would have happily met him halfway, would have greeted him with a hunger that he knew better than to feed. Any kissing would have been a mistake, and he should have been relieved, not driving himself up a wall all morning over the way the energy between them had all but crackled.

  Crackled. Wait. He thumbed back several photos. Yes. There. More evidence of a burn pattern indicative of an intentional fire, but the pictures were blurrier than he liked. He really needed to see this particular site in person, preferably before another summer rain surprised them. He’d just finished a hasty lunch at his desk, and as he hoped, he found Adams in his office, returning from his own break.

  “There’s a spot fire location we didn’t hit yesterday that I really want to see in person,” he explained after exchanging a few pleasantries. “I think it might be key to tying the sites together, establishing a pattern. Permission to head out to visit it? I might also visit the air base, see if I can talk to any of the smoke-jumping crew that was initially on site there. I already reviewed the procedures for Tuesday’s burn, so I’m ahead on work.”

  “Sure, sure.” Adams nodded, not looking up as he logged into the computer behind his big desk. “That makes sense. Check out a Jeep and take Tucker with you.”

  “Excell—Hang on, I don’t need to bother Tucker. I’ve got GPS.”

  “And so does he. It’s a ways out there, backcountry, two different logging roads to reach it, then a hike in. You shouldn’t go alone, and he knows the management at the air base if you end up needing to go there as well. He’ll get you in to see who you need to talk with easier than you on your own.”

  This wasn’t bad logic, but he still didn’t need to bother Tucker, who undoubtedly had work of his own to get done, and he tried telling Adams that, but he held firm.

  “It’s a Friday afternoon. He’ll be happy to get out of the office.”

  Effectively dismissed, Luis wandered over to Tucker’s office, steps slower because as much as the tension had been lowered the night before, he still wasn’t sure about more time alone. Tucker’s door was open, as seemed to be his habit, and he hung up the phone as Luis stuck his head in the doorway.

  “Adams says I’m taking you out in the field.” Gesturing at the phone, Tucker smiled broadly. Damn him for still having dimples.

  “If you’re busy with other work...” Luis managed weakly, knowing it was a losing proposition.

  “Nothing that won’t keep.” Tucker stood, chest muscles rippling as he stretched. “It’s a gorgeous day out. No way do I want to be cooped up here. And we don’t want you hiking alone to this site. I could send someone else with you, but I’m not passing up that sunshine.”

  “Fair enough.” Luis still resented the idea that he needed a tour guide of sorts, but nothing was going to be gained by continuing to protest other than ruining Tucker’s good mood. After he changed into his hiking boots, he grabbed his travel coffee mug and some extra water and met Tucker by the same Jeep as the day before.

  “Still good with me driving?” Tucker was already heading to the driver’s side, so Luis stifled his inner groan and nodded.

  “Sure. More time for me to review this data as we go.”

  “Yeah? How’s that going?” Tucker easily swung himself up into the Jeep and behind the wheel as Luis settled himself.

  “Going well. This is actually one of my favorite parts of the job, not that we ever welcome arson. But like you said yesterday, it’s a puzzle. I’m trying to build a model of what’s happened with the suspect spot fires so we can more effectively interpret the data and possibly aid investigative and law enforcement efforts.”

  “And maybe predict where the next one could be?”

  “Yup.”

  They talked fire behavior most of the way out of town, taking a winding road past several campgrounds and hiking trailheads. Eventually even Tucker had to rely on the GPS to lead them to the logging access roads. They’d intersected a popular hiking trail, but this was far quicker than doing the entire distance by foot. The midday sun was still beating down as they arrived at the best place to park, having driven as close as they were going to get.

  “Smoke jumpers must have had their work cut out for them,” Luis observed as he exited the Jeep. The rugged terrain would not have been easy for the people hauling hundreds of pounds of gear with them. Taking the water with them, they set out at a brisk pace.

  “This is nothing. We had a fire last year, week-long operation plus cleanup time, with a remote fire camp and the jumpers were battling wind and elevation the whole time. Finding landing zones was a challenge and a half.”

  Something about the way Tucker spoke about the smoke jumpers, a certain reverence maybe, gave him away, and Luis had to chuckle. “You still play the what-if game, don’t you? Part of you really wanted to be out there with them.”

  “Maybe.” Tucker shrugged as they continued walking, but a little smile played with his lips. “Okay, yeah, just between us, giving up that dream...wasn’t easy. The adrenaline. The planes. The camaraderie. The variety.”

  “I remember. Heck, you even had the action figures.”

  “Yeah, I had it a
ll planned out. And I did start on summer ground fire crews because I could be the primary caregiver over the winter while Heidi was in school. But then the boys got bigger and things like health insurance and tuition assistance for me to go to school myself mattered more than being on the front lines. Anyway, I’ve built a good life for myself in this job. Too old to see myself switching, that’s for sure.”

  “You’re not that old,” Luis protested both because if Tucker was old then so was he, and because part of him resisted the reminder that Tucker was one hundred percent married to this area and this job, no matter how his family had treated him. Not that Luis got an opinion there and not that it made a lick of difference to how bad of an idea it would be to get involved with him. “And with your experience in both supervision and fire management, you could probably either be the most qualified rookie they’ve ever had or get some sort of support role.”

  “Rookie.” Tucker snorted. “Think I’ll leave that to the young guns.”

  “I’m just saying, all routine makes you old before your time.” Said the guy who had spent more weekends than was healthy with his cat that year, but maybe Luis was better at giving advice on how to avoid ruts than getting out of them himself.

  “Yeah? What’s your endgame then? Aiming for your boss’s job?” Eyebrows raised, Tucker seemed to sense that Luis was more talk than action.

  “I’m happy in my role right now. Getting all the required certifications wasn’t easy. Maybe less travel would be good.” He gave Tucker a pointed look. Travel might have brought him here, and he might not regret the chance to smooth things over between them, but he also couldn’t deny that the emotional upheaval of getting to that place took a toll. “Long-term, I’ll simply have to see. A position with an interagency crew isn’t outside the realm of possibility. Likewise, moving into a role where I could do even more investigation would be good. I’m open to whatever comes my way. Complacency isn’t good.”

  “Yeah.” Tucker’s tone was thoughtful as they approached the site, and then it was back to business, Luis combing the area for an up-close examination of the burn pattern. The initial smoke-jumping crew had done a fabulous job of containing the blaze, keeping it from spreading, but the scorched trees and downed limbs spoke to how close of a call it had been from spreading into something more unmanageable.