Californian Wildfire Fighters: The Complete Series

by North, Leslie

  Chase's hands froze in their work. No matter how hard he tried to get them going again, they wouldn't cooperate. He avoided looking at Hank for as long as he could, but the silence stretched between them, and he finally couldn't take it anymore. He glanced up and was surprised to find Hank staring off into space. He had never known his chief to lose himself in thought almost mid-sentence like that.

  Hank was obviously reflecting on something. Still, Chase couldn't help wondering if the warning was meant for him.

  Hank snapped out of it eventually. "Don't worry about it right now," he advised. "You just keep focused on filling those tanks, Kingston."

  "Yeah, yeah." Chase would have waved him off had he not been using both hands to prep said tank. "I'm going, I'm going."

  But if Hank was right about one thing, it was that Chase's efficiency suffered from being distracted. Try as he might, he couldn't get Sookie out of his head. The memory of her wild laughter as he’d spun her around the dance floor last night persisted. When he replayed the image to its conclusion, he relived the moment he’d banded her tightly against him, followed by the moment she raised herself up to entwine her arms around his neck and seal her warm lips against his . . .

  Chase shuddered and closed his eyes. He needed to back off. It would be the best thing for him—and the best thing for Sookie. He could admit now that he had failed in keeping his emotional distance—he was only human, after all—but the important thing was he had caught it in an early stage. Speculation that he was falling for his squad's Angel had been only that: speculation.

  A little material prep, and he'd be ready to pursue his fling with Sookie again tomorrow. If she still wanted him. If Jason didn't manage to win back tonight what he had so idiotically let go in the first place.

  Fucking Jason.

  Chapter 14

  Sookie

  "Engaged?" Sookie repeated incredulously.

  On the couch, seated across from her, Jason Lewis winced. "You don't have to sound so surprised, Sook. You could at least pretend to have guessed I was marriage material . . . considering you were the first girl I ever proposed to."

  Sookie blushed. She had invited Jason over via text after she’d clocked off her shift, and had been surprised to find her ex already waiting on the porch of her rental with a six pack of beer. What started out as an awkward evening had quickly became more comfortable as they readjusted to one another . . . that is, until now.

  "I didn't mean it that way, Jace. And I definitely didn't mean for you to bring up . . . you know."

  Jason shook his head. "You don't have to tiptoe around my feelings. I'm over it. And from where I'm sitting, it looks like you've moved on, as well."

  Sookie nodded. "I think so. Or at least, I've thought so all these years."

  "Until you saw me," Jason guessed.

  "Until I saw you," she agreed.

  As if sensing their conversation would require more outside help, Jason rose to go get two more beers out of the fridge. Sookie toyed with the ends of her hair. It was too easy to touch it sometimes, to remember how long it had been once . . . and remember the girl who had worn it that way.

  When Jason returned, she was sitting tall once more. She thanked him for the beer with a gracious nod as he sat back down. "It wasn't until I saw you that I realized I had left so much unsaid," she continued. "All these years, I thought Hank was the despicable one for leaving Lana the way he did. But I want you to know that I feel bad about the way I left things with us."

  "You were young," Jason said. "We both were. And looking back now . . ." He eased back on the couch and rolled the beer between his hands thoughtfully. ". . . I asked too much of you. Actually, I asked the wrong things of you. I learned a lot from our relationship that I wasn't eager to repeat with Cheryl." Cheryl was Jason's fiancé.

  "But you're getting married now," Sookie pointed out. "So you did wind up getting what you wanted, didn't you?"

  "Yes." Jason smiled warmly, if a bit sadly. "But it took me longer than I like to admit to figure out what a bigger commitment, like marriage, is supposed to be. Cheryl helped me see that . . . and so did you. Yes, you," he reiterated when Sookie snorted and waved her hand. "I know it wasn't just the thought of being tied down to me that chased you away, Sookie. The life I thought I wanted with you . . . it wasn't a life that took who you were into consideration."

  "I appreciate what you're saying. More than I can almost express. But I want you to know that you didn't chase me away, Jason," she said. "I ran away from Cedar Springs as hard and as fast as I could. Just like Hank did. I'm not above admitting it now. Thing is, I don't regret that I did. I'm sorry if that's harsh," she added quickly, but now it was Jason's turn to wave a hand. "But I needed to get away from everything I grew up with to become the person I am now. I felt like I was suffocating. I had to get away from this town and all its ghosts . . ."

  "And you had to get away from me," he supplied.

  Sookie shook her head, but it wasn't because she disagreed with what he said. "It's more what you were starting to represent. I know you wanted a wife, Jace, but it seemed to me that what you wanted was a traditional definition of the word. You wanted someone who would sit at home and take care of things while you were out actively contributing to society. Someone who was an accessory to your life, and not a partner."

  Sookie relented a moment and watched him. Jason stared at his hands—no, at the place where his wedding ring would sit—in quiet contemplation.

  "—but I don't think that's what you wound up settling for," she insisted. "You seem so much calmer now. So much happier than you were with me. And I know there's plenty to be said about strong women who want to stay at home, but I just couldn't be that person. After all those years spent trying to live up to my family's expectations . . . then Hank's, after they passed away . . . the thought of spending the remainder of my life trying to fit a mold royally freaked me out. So that's what I've been wanting to say to you all these years," Sookie concluded. "I'm sorry, and I'm not sorry. God, I was way more eloquent in my head."

  "You've said everything exactly right," Jason replied. "Because it's how you really feel, Sookie. And don't take this as a criticism, but you haven't always been exactly forthcoming with what was actually on your mind. Something tells me you still may not be . . . which is why I appreciate everything you've just said to me all the more." He lifted his beer to her, and she leaned forward to clink hers to his. "Here's to the truth," he said.

  "The truth," she agreed. She couldn't deny how relieved she felt to finally have it all out there between them. She hadn't been sure how this reunion would go, but this was definitely better than expected. Sookie smiled, more to herself than to the man sitting across from her, and sipped her beer.

  “So, is that guy Chase your boyfriend?” Jason asked offhand.

  Sookie choked and quickly set her beer aside. She tried again, and managed a pleasantly surprised scoff this time. “What?” She laughed and shook her head. “Chase is . . . I mean, Chase is a great guy.” A really great guy, the mutinous little voice in the back of her head, the one that didn’t understand the definition of the word fling, agreed. “We work together.”

  “That’s not really an answer,” Jason pointed out. She’d always hated it when Jason pointed things out. "We just agreed to having no more secrets between us, right?"

  “I’m sure he’d be a great boyfriend. He’s just not going to be . . . my boyfriend.”

  “You want him to be?” Jason eyed her significantly over his bottle, then tipped it back to give her time to respond. Sookie knew he’d sit in her living room all night and sweat her for an answer until she came up with something convincing.

  But Sookie wasn’t one to let Jason win anymore. She took up her own beer and crossed her arms. She made herself sphinx-like, keeper of riddles.

  Jason laughed at her dismissive expression and rocked forward. “You really like him, don’t you?” he pressed. “Come on, Sook. I could see it plain as day on your
face this morning before you saw me and looked like you wanted to run for the hills.”

  “I did not look like I wanted to run for the hills, Jason.” She was determined not to let the two of them slip back into old roles. “And of course I like him. More than I thought I ever could, but . . .” She shook her head violently. “I don’t want to talk about it. Sorry.”

  “Fair enough. I just want to see you happy, Sook.”

  “I am happy,” she insisted. “I’m better than I’ve ever been, Jace. Promise.”

  “I think I can drink to that.” They clinked beers and drank. Sookie noticed they were both smiling, and decided the evening had gone better than she could ever have expected. An hour and two beers later, they were outside on the front porch. Sookie swayed a little, not because she was particularly buzzed, but because the week's patrols were starting to catch up with her. She felt tired on her feet, but surprisingly stable emotionally.

  Jason paused before descending the stairs and looked at her. "It was good to see you, Sook. Really," he emphasized. "I'm glad we got the chance to talk. After all these years . . . I never imagined I could feel closure about us."

  He lingered, waiting for her to say something. A million and one thoughts still circled in her brain, most of them concerning Chase, but she thrust them aside to try and live in the moment. "It was good to see you, too, Jason," she said. When she beamed a smile his way, she meant it. "I look forward to meeting your fiancée."

  "You'll love her. And she'll love you." He paused again, then held his arms out to her. "Come here."

  Old habits died hard. She went to him, and they hugged. The warmth of Jason's embrace was a nice escape from the cool evening air, but not as powerful, not as right, as Chase's. She really needed to get over contrasting the two of them—it was like comparing oranges to . . . whatever they managed to grow out there in the Alaskan wilds. It wasn't Jason's fault that the man who now occupied her bed was proving hard to measure up to.

  When Jason pulled away, Sookie rose up to kiss him on the cheek, followed by, "That never happened,” and a laugh. “Now get out of here before the landlady sees you!" She swatted his shoulder playfully as he departed with a chuckle and a shake of his head. "You know how small small towns are."

  "I'm telling you, Sook, sometimes ours feels like the smallest. Have a good night," he said again, raising his hand in a wave. "Look out for yourself. I'm sure I'll run into you sooner rather than later."

  "Watch the skies!" she called after him. "I'll be up there. And this time, Jason, I'll be looking out for you!"

  Chapter 15

  Chase

  You're not jealous, Kingston, Chase told himself as he walked briskly down the darkened streets of Cedar Springs toward Sookie's. But you can't let this old flame steal your thunder.

  His thing with Sookie might just be a fling, but that didn't make him any less invested in keeping other men from circling her. It was only natural for him to feel the way he did, wasn't it? He wasn't used to being challenged by other men over women . . . not that Jason had challenged him outright. Hell, the other man had barely looked at him. The thought only incensed Chase further. Did Jason not recognize that he was an opponent, an obstacle? Because he sure as shit intended to be one if that local beanpole so much as looked at Sookie with a spark of sexual curiosity on his face.

  Sookie's not yours, the sensible voice in the back of his head reminded him. And there's no faster way to drive her off than to start acting like she is.

  He wished the voice didn't sound so much like Hank's.

  Chase turned the corner and was surprised to find Sookie's lights still on. He checked the glowing face of his watch, but he could already guess the time. He had set out from his place around one in the morning, with the intention of clearing his head after a few lonesome beers; his feet just happened to take him in Sookie's direction. He hadn't expected her to still be up. He knew she had a shift early tomorrow morning.

  He also hadn't expected to find her standing in the driveway, locked in Jason's arms.

  When she raised herself up on her tiptoes, and when her lips touched down on Jason's cheek, Chase froze dead in his tracks.

  The moment seemed to drag on into minutes . . . hours. Chase understood that, logistically speaking, Sookie couldn't have kissed her ex for longer than a split second, but the sight of them together seemed superimposed on the night long after they had withdrawn and said goodnight.

  Jason got into his car, and Sookie disappeared back inside the house.

  Chase stood alone on the street. And he boiled. Anger raced through his veins like heat lightning, and his fist itched to do—what? To make good on his fantasy of punching Jason? To pound on Sookie's door and demand answers?

  Were you with him tonight?

  "Goddammit," Chase hissed under his breath. When the single, intrusive thought wouldn't be banished, he turned and rammed his fist into the cold metal streetlight beside him. His knuckle split, and the circle of light he stood in wobbled . . . but the California cicadas kept trilling, and the memory of Sookie's lips touching Jason kept turning over and over again in his mind.

  He made the walk back home in half the time. He blew through the foyer so quickly that none of the poker-playing squad members sitting around the kitchen table had the chance to comment on the swiftness of his errand.

  He pelted up the stairs, threw the bedroom door open, and kicked it closed behind him with enough violence to shake the whole house. He tossed himself down on his mattress, rolled over, and buried a groan into his pillow.

  "What's up, Kingston? You look like someone just drowned your dog."

  Chase glanced over and found the other bed in the room occupied. Landon Brenner sat upright, back pressed against the wall, typing a report on his laptop. If he had glanced up at Chase's theatrical entry, then he gave no indication of it now; his eyes were lasered in on his work.

  "I don't want to talk about it," Chase snarled.

  "Uh-huh." Landon still didn't look up from his screen.

  "It's just . . . if you were with a girl, right, but you hadn't said you were exclusive or anything, and then her ex came back into town—that would still piss you off, right? You'd be justified in wanting to lay him out with a cathartic punch or two, yeah?"

  "Is this about Sookie?" Landon asked.

  Chase sat up straight in his bed. "I didn't say it was about anyone specific! What makes you think that?"

  Landon finally stopped typing. He levelled a look at Chase that clearly said: Really? "Dude, everyone knows about you and Sookie. Hank bitches about it constantly. Did she hook up with her ex or something? Is that what this is about? Because I heard that guy's already engaged."

  "I don't know," Chase admitted. He shifted his legs over the side of the mattress and hunched forward, gripping the edge of the bed as if the gravity in Cedar Springs might reverse itself at any moment. "I don't know if they hooked up. I don't think Sookie would if she knew he was engaged. But I happened to see them hug, and . . ."

  What if that son of a bitch lied to her?

  "You happened to be stalking them?" Landon said helpfully. "I'm not going to lie to you, Kingston, this is already starting to sound unhealthy as shit. Sounds like you've been cheated on before."

  Chase white-knuckled the bed frame so hard, his fingers popped.

  Landon's expression shifted instantly. "Jesus, dude, I'm sorry. I had no idea. Was it Sheila?"

  "Sheila," Chase confirmed.

  "Unbelievable." Landon sat upright and pushed his computer aside. "The two of you were dating for how long?"

  "Four years." What Chase chose not to reveal to a sympathetic Landon was that Sheila had cheated with his best friend at the time. "Look, I didn't mean to turn this into a fifth-grade girls' slumber party. If you have a report to get—"

  "Look," Landon interrupted him. "If Chief's sister means something to you, then you need to work it out. Don't torture yourself speculating on what may or may not be happening. For fuck's sake, K
ingston, this town is tiny. You could walk five minutes and solve this mystery by asking Sookie yourself."

  "I'm done talking," Chase said stubbornly. "Sorry I brought it up."

  "You're never done talking," Landon said. "But right now I need you to listen to what I'm saying to you. If the thing with Sookie is just a fling, then let it be a fling. You guys are adults. But whatever you decide, I know one thing's for sure: If you have your head screwed up while you're supposed to be watching my back out there, then I would rather have someone else watching it."

  Chase sat in silence. He hated giving anyone else the last word, but he knew Landon was right. The other firefighter was completely justified in calling him out. He sucked in a long breath through his nose and stood.

  "Off to solve the mystery?" Landon asked him.

  "I'm taking a walk," Chase replied. He paused in the doorway and gripped the doorjamb. "My head is clear," he said. "The thing with Sookie . . . it was fun. She was fun. But it just isn't the right time."

  For either of us, he thought. Chase wasn't done mourning Sheila if it was still so easy for him to jump to conclusions, and maybe Sookie wasn't done with Jason, either. Starting up a fling had been a bad idea. They were gasoline and a lit match, just waiting to combust.

  Someone else was waiting to combust in the hallway. As Chase turned the corner, he found Hank waiting for him. His chief was a tower of tensed muscle, his fists clenched and loaded at his sides. Chase had never seen the other man so furious. He took a startled step backward before he could convince his lizard brain to stand its ground.

  "Glad to hear you think my sister was fun, Kingston," Hank growled.

  "Hank, I swear I didn't mean—"

  "I don't give a rat's ass what you mean!" the chief snarled. "I tried to be understanding of whatever the two of you thought you had, but I will not listen to you degrade the only family I have left on this earth. Sookie is too damn good for you. She's always been too damn good for you."