Just a Little Bet (Where There's Smoke)

by Tawna Fenske

  The boys’ eyes grew round as saucers. “Fire?” one of them breathed. “You play with fire?”

  “Uh, not play with it, exactly.” He glanced up at the boys’ mother, clearly at a loss. “I jump out of airplanes to help stop fires from spreading.”

  Carrie ruffled her sons’ hair again. “They’ve got a thing for fire,” she said, smiling fondly at the twins. “We try to encourage their interests.”

  Kayla gazed warily down at the little cherubs. “You want to be firefighters when you grow up?”

  The boys exchanged another look. “Nuh-uh,” said one of them.

  She waited for more, but that was it. Just a weird love of fire, which…okay. Their father was an arson inspector, after all.

  Carrie was steering them toward the table, so they all filed in, with Tony and Kayla on one side of the booth and Carrie on the other with her boys beside her. As soon as the kids were distracted, she leaned across the table.

  “I promised them milkshakes if they sit quietly at a different table while we have grown-up conversation,” she said. “I always enjoy catching up with old friends.”

  Kayla let the word “friends” hang between them, appreciating Carrie’s attempt at discretion. But hey, might as well keep this as open as possible.

  “I know you two dated, and it’s totally fine.” Kayla offered a small smile. “You don’t have to ignore it for my benefit. Tony and I are just friends.”

  “Travel buddies,” he added. “Kayla and I have no secrets, so don’t worry about this being weird.”

  Carrie smiled and set her purse down on the table. “That’s nice. It’s lovely staying close with exes, isn’t it?”

  Kayla nodded, not sure what else to say. Should she start poking for details to support her theory about Tony’s commitment phobia or just play it cool? The man himself was busy studying the menu while Carrie was focused on fishing in her purse.

  Digging to the bottom of the big brown tote, she pulled out—toy firetrucks? Aw, how cute. Carrie handed one to each twin without comment, and the boys bounced gleefully in their seats.

  “Gosh, it feels like it’s been ages since we saw each other, Tony.” Carrie watched as the boys ran the trucks across the tabletop. “We just sort of lost touch, didn’t we?”

  “Yeah.” Tony cleared his throat. “Guess so.”

  Kayla eyed him, sensing there was more to the story. She’d have to press when the boys were out of earshot. She glanced at the twins, who seemed oblivious to the adult conversation. They’d dropped to the floor to zoom the trucks over the swirls in the linoleum, making siren noises loud enough to drown out the grown-ups’ chatter.

  Carrie leaned forward to address Tony. “You know, actually, we didn’t just lose touch. I mean, you sort of vanished.”

  Kayla flicked her gaze to Tony in time to see him wince. “Yeah. I mean, it was fire season and all…”

  “Fire season?” Carrie cocked her head. “It was December. You know how I remember?”

  Kayla opened her mouth to point out that fire season in the southern hemisphere spanned right across that time, but one glimpse at Tony’s expression made her clamp her lips shut.

  “I remember something about S-A-N-T-A,” Tony said. He glanced at the boys and lowered his voice. “The details are a little fuzzy.”

  Santa? Kayla blinked at him. They broke up because of Santa Claus?

  Before she could press for details, the waitress arrived to take their order. The kids ordered chocolate shakes, and Carrie ordered a Cobb salad and iced tea. Tony ordered a chili dog while Kayla perused the slightly sticky menu.

  “I’ll have a cheeseburger.” She handed the menu back to the waitress with a smile. “A chocolate shake would be great, too.”

  “Thank you.” Tony handed his menu back. “Cool bracelet, by the way.”

  The waitress practically glowed as she turned her wrist from side to side, showing off the copper-and-turquoise-studded leather cuff. “Thanks. My ex said it made me look like a biker chick.” She laughed and winked at Tony. “Probably why he’s my ex and I’m single.”

  Kayla laughed, though she couldn’t help noticing the woman’s gaze lingering on Tony’s chest. Nice job with the hint, too, making her single status clear in case Tony was interested. She had to give the woman points for being bold, especially with a man who may or may not be the father of the two kindergarteners squirming on the floor at their feet.

  And speaking of the kindergarteners: “Could I get extra napkins?” Carrie asked. “These two can be a little…messy.”

  The waitress did a fine job stifling her grimace. “No problem.” She shimmied away with a wiggle in her step that was clearly meant for Tony.

  Carrie noticed it, too, and gave Kayla a conspiratorial smile. “Boys,” she said. “Why don’t you go sit at that table right over there, where I can see you.”

  Tyler—or was it Tyson?—squinted at his mom. “Can we have some paper?”

  “Absolutely not.” Carrie smiled tightly at Kayla. “We’re working on boundaries.”

  “Oh. Okay.” A little odd, but whatever. Her friends with kids were usually eager to indulge their budding artists with crayons and coloring books, but maybe these two had a history of drawing dirty pictures or something.

  The three adults watched the boys slouch over to the table, toy trucks gripped in their little hands. Carrie’s face shone with fondness and maybe a little fatigue.

  Kayla waited until the boys were out of earshot to ask one of the dozen or so questions bouncing around in her brain. “You’ve got me dying of curiosity,” she said. “You and Tony split up because of Santa?”

  “Well, not Santa specifically.” Carrie folded her hands on the table and glanced at Tony. “We were approaching Christmas and got to talking about families. You know, normal relationship stuff about how we grew up and all the holiday traditions.”

  “Sure, I get it.” She stole another glance at Tony, wondering how much he’d shared with Carrie about his upbringing. She’d assumed he was tight-lipped with everyone when it came to family history, but maybe not? “So…Santa?”

  Carrie glanced toward the twins and lowered her voice. “I was telling him how my dad used to dress up as Santa every Christmas. How he kept the suit so my eventual husband could wear it for our kids.” She looked at Tony and shook her head. “I swear I wasn’t suggesting anything. Just making conversation.”

  He tugged at the neck of his T-shirt and made a face. “Okay, yeah, I’m remembering now.”

  Carrie rolled her eyes. “He starts off talking about how Santa Claus is this big lie that damages kids’ emotional well-being. I thought he was kidding at first, but then he went off on the Tooth Fairy.”

  Kayla blinked. “The Tooth Fairy?”

  Nodding, Carrie continued. “Tony here is not a fan.”

  “Of the Tooth Fairy?” She looked at him. “Is this true?”

  He tugged his shirt collar again. “I may have also had disparaging words for the Easter Bunny.”

  What the—?

  “Apparently, Tony’s very passionate in his disdain for fictional holiday characters.” Carrie shrugged. “I thought it was just quirky at first. But before I knew it, he was going off about how the world is all messed up and is there really any good reason anyone brings kids into it at all?”

  Kayla snorted. “That’s quite a leap there, big guy.”

  He sighed and dragged his fingers through his hair. “Was I really that bad?”

  Carrie folded her arms over her chest. “You concluded your speech by suggesting there should be licenses required for anyone to have a kid.” She shook her head and looked at Kayla. “Suffice to say, that didn’t go over great at my sister’s holiday potluck.”

  “Yikes.”

  Carrie uncrossed her arms and took a sip of water. “Did I mention I have nine nieces an
d nephews?”

  “Oh, man.” Kayla turned to Tony. “What do you have to say to that?”

  “I might have been a jerk?” He grimaced and held a hand out to Carrie. “I’m sorry. I really am. That wasn’t cool, and there’s no excuse.”

  She clasped his palm with hers and gave a firm shake. “No hard feelings. I’m happily married, and it’s water under the bridge.”

  Kayla glanced at their intertwined fingers, hating the surprise jolt of jealousy zinging through her. What the hell?

  “Does your husband wear the Santa suit?” she asked.

  Carrie beamed. “Every year. The boys love it.”

  “So, it all worked out in the end.” She glanced at Tony. “I guess it’s kinda clear you balked at the first twinge of commitment?”

  He frowned and pressed his palms to the table. “Seems clearer I’m just a jerk.”

  Kayla looked at Carrie, considering the best way to request an official ruling in the wager. Surely this was one point scored for the commitment-phobe theory?

  “So, Carrie, do you think—”

  “Oh my God!” Carrie bolted from her seat, not looking at Kayla anymore. Her eyes flew saucer-wide, darting to the table where her boys sat playing.

  Playing and…holy crap, was the table on fire?

  “Oh no!” Kayla jumped from her seat, pushing Tony out of the way. He staggered, then gasped as his gaze landed on the flames erupting from what might have been a napkin dispenser. Were those the toy trucks in the middle?

  Tyson and Tyler sat mesmerized. One of them fed toothpicks into the flames while the other was dropping bits of shredded napkin over the blaze.

  “Hang on.” Tony strode toward the kitchen, a smokejumper on a mission. Seconds later, he jogged back carrying a fire extinguisher, yanking the pin as he moved. “Get back.”

  He didn’t wait for the boys to move. Just blasted away, dousing the flames in a burst of white foam.

  “Whoa.” The twins gaped at him. “Cool.”

  Kayla started toward the table, too shaken to think of anything smart to add. “Is everyone okay?”

  Carrie shook her head and grabbed each boy by the arm. “We’re leaving now. No milkshakes for you.”

  “But Mooooom—”

  “No buts,” she barked, flashing an apologetic look at the waitress as she headed for the door with both boys in tow. “Where did you get the matches this time? Answer me, young man. This is the third time this week that—”

  Her words trailed off as she vanished out the door with the boys dragging their feet. Kayla stared after them, then slowly swung her gaze to Tony.

  “Why do I get the sense they’re not aspiring firefighters?”

  He grimaced. “Aspiring arsonists, maybe.”

  “Good Lord.”

  The waitress set the tray on their table, casting a befuddled look at the still-smoldering pile on the other one. “You want me to box this up?”

  Tony shook his head and sat back down. “No reason to let food go to waste.” He picked up his chili dog. “You can bring me the bill for all of it. The table, too.”

  “Sorry about the mess,” Kayla offered, sliding into the opposite side of the booth.

  “Oh, we’re used to it,” the waitress reported. “Not here, but some of the other restaurants in town. Last month, one of them tried to light the swing set on fire at the local park.”

  “Wow.” Tony grimaced as he bit into his chili dog, giving Kayla a look across the table. “I guess I’m not the only one with issues.”

  Kayla shook her head, wondering if she should call the fire marshal or leave that to restaurant management. “Maybe your Santa meltdown was a premonition. It saved you from raising aspiring arsonists.”

  “Something like that.” He shrugged and reached for one of the twins’ abandoned milkshakes. “I guess it’s not always the parents’ fault if a kid turns out to be a hot mess.” As he sipped the shake, his expression dimmed a little. “Also, some kids turn out okay even when the parents are assholes.”

  “Ain’t that the truth.” The waitress wandered off, but not before casting one last flirty look at Tony.

  Kayla took a bite of her burger and wondered how much of this her heart could handle.

  …

  Tony kept his eyes on the road as he drove back to the hotel, but he couldn’t help stealing glances at Kayla. What was she thinking?

  She didn’t make him wait long to find out. “What do you feel like you learned from that?”

  He snorted and turned toward the far end of town. “That plastic firetrucks burn a lot faster when you dump hand sanitizer on them.”

  He knew without looking that she rolled her eyes. “Where did they even get that?”

  “Their mom’s purse, probably.” He dared another glance at her. “I know that’s not what you meant, by the way.”

  “I know you knew,” she said. “You always do.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Just that,” she said. “You make jokes to avoid talking about stuff. Things that make you uncomfortable.”

  He didn’t know what to say to that, so relief washed through him as the hotel sign surged into view. “You planning to go out and shoot some pictures?”

  Her pause told him she recognized his blatant attempt to change the subject, but she didn’t comment on it. “Probably a little closer to sunset,” she said. “The light’s not good right now.”

  “Want to sit by the pool?” He parked right in front of the fence separating them from the sparkling turquoise rectangle.

  “Maybe.” She hesitated again. “Sure, why not.”

  “You could read another chapter from that book.”

  She cocked her head at him. “Yeah?”

  “Sure. It’s kind of entertaining.”

  “Even if I don’t do it in cartoon voices?”

  He laughed and tossed his keys from one hand to the other. “If we’re by the pool, you’ll be in a bathing suit, right? That’s every guy’s fantasy—having a pretty woman in a bikini read to him.”

  He might have just made that up.

  From Kayla’s dubious look, he guessed she knew it. “Is this your attempt to be a pig so I give up and leave you alone?”

  “No!” He definitely didn’t want that. “I’ll be good, I swear.” Also, he really did kinda want to hear the book.

  She eyed him a moment, then unbuckled her seat belt. “I’ll get changed and meet you out there.”

  “Sounds good.” He took his time ambling toward his room, wondering if it was weird they’d opted for separate ones. They’d both agreed, figuring they each needed their private space. But maybe he’d been too hasty in suggesting it.

  He took his time changing, pulling on the swim trunks he’d stuffed in one corner of his duffel. It was weird traveling like this—having a room to himself and a bag he didn’t have to haul ten miles on his back as he hoofed it through the woods on his way to the pickup point.

  That part of smokejumping had never bothered him. He remembered teaching his younger brother to backpack, wishing they’d had a father around to offer tips.

  “You want to carry the weight on your hips and shoulders, like this.” Tony had demonstrated, then stooped to adjust the waist belt for Joel. “Mom said she and Dad hiked the Pacific Crest Trail once. It was a long time ago.”

  Joel didn’t remember their dad at all, so Tony tried to fill in the blanks when he could. His kid brother had nodded, watching Tony with wide eyes. “Our dad liked hiking?”

  Hiking in the opposite direction of his wife and kids.

  Tony never said that part out loud, but he nodded anyway. “So did Mom, I guess.”

  Things must have been different then. Way different. Even back then, he couldn’t imagine their mother hiking or smiling or having hobbies that didn’t involve—<
br />
  “Hey, Tony?” A knock at the door jarred him from the memory, with Kayla’s voice sweetening the intrusion. “Did you pack sunscreen? I thought I had it, but I must’ve forgotten.”

  “Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll bring it out with me.”

  “Thanks.” Even through the door, he could hear the smile in her voice. “See you out there.”

  Taking a deep breath, he grabbed his towel off the dresser, looping it over one arm so he could rummage through his toiletry kit for the sunscreen. He gripped the tube as he inventoried his possessions. Sunglasses: check. Phone: check. Flip-flops: by the door. He scuffed his feet into them and made his way outside and down the walkway to the pool.

  Kayla was already out there, sprawled on a chaise in a bright yellow bikini. She wore her hair piled up on her head and pink sunglasses that made her look like a movie star. His breath stalled in his chest, and it took him a second to get his feet moving again.

  Shaking himself out of it, he ambled to the edge of the pool and set his stuff down on the chair beside hers. “Here’s the sunscreen.”

  “You’re the best.” She sat up and grinned, fingers brushing his as she took the tube from him. “I promise I’ll buy more when we stop for snacks on the way out of town tomorrow.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “You’ve been keeping us supplied with chewing gum and fruit. I figure it all evens out.”

  She laughed and aimed her shoulder blades his direction. “Could I ask you to do my back?”

  Oh, God. “Sure.”

  What the hell was wrong with him? It’s not like they’d never touched before. They’d done it dozens of times since they’d split. Friendly little pats on the back, or their knees bumping together on the sofa during movie night.

  Something had shifted between them, and everything pointed back to that night he got drunk at the bar. If he’d really said all that stuff about wanting marriage and kids, he’d shown the soft underbelly he kept hidden from everyone.

  Maybe that’s where it all went haywire.

  As he squirted sunscreen in his palm, he fought to keep his breathing even. Touching her again—this was no big deal. Shifting to hide the hard-on threatening to make itself known in his swim trunks, he got to work greasing up her back. She had perfect skin, soft and creamy and warm and—