From Here to You

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From Here to You Page 8

by McGuire, Jamie


  She shrugged. “It’s just a little…fantastical for you. You’re usually more utilitarian than this.”

  “Do you really think I think my feelings about this are normal? That I’ve ever thought everyone else walks around waiting for someone they’ve never met? I just know what I know.”

  “Would that be faith, T-Rex? Very spiritual for an atheist.”

  “Faith and religion aren’t mutually exclusive. And fuck you.”

  “Fuck you, too,” she said. “And good luck, Trex. I hope she’s the one.” She smooched at me and winked, then closed the door behind her, starting the engine.

  The drive back to the hotel was long. The sun was already tucked behind the mountain range, a few stars beginning to pop out from a blanket of dark blue. My face contorted as I yawned, and I fidgeted with the volume on the radio. Twin headlights grew closer and passed, the yellow lines slipping under and past my truck, the road noise lulling me to a relaxed state, but instead of analyzing the day, Bennett, Bianca, and the general, I could only think of her. Two days ago my mind was full of things like getting to the gym, looking at Zillow for new real estate properties, and my new job. I somehow knew Darby would be beautiful. I didn’t know she’d be that beautiful.

  I parked the truck in the parking lot and followed a few soot-covered, smelly hotshots returning from their cycle up on the mountain. The double glass doors slid open, blowing their stench right in my face.

  Darby was standing by a waiting area with a few chairs and two sofas, a fake plant as tall as her, and a flat-screen. She was smiling at the fireworks exploding on the screen, with her arms crossed over her middle.

  Without hesitation, I walked behind her and spoke into her ear. “Hey.” I said it like we were old friends, and at the same time I was unsettled by the need to talk to her. Just like all the other desperate jerk-offs in the lobby. I was disappointing myself.

  “Oh. Hey. I get paid next Friday.”

  I stared at her for a moment, wondering why she’d chosen that to say to me.

  “For the food,” she reminded me.

  “Oh. I’d already forgotten.” I nodded toward the screen. “Is it firework time already?”

  “They’re just reporting on the upcoming Independence Day plans around the state…well, the ones we’re not having,” she grumbled. “That’s from last year,” she said, gesturing to the television. “Not looking good for us.” She bit her thumbnail, and I decided it was almost as cute as her accent. “Almost the whole state has outlawed fireworks this year due to the fires. Everything south of Kremmling, wherever that is.”

  “North of here,” I said. “I can’t blame them. It’s been pretty dry and this is the most active fire season we’ve had in a while. Do you have plans for the Fourth?” I stepped back. Stay out of her personal space, Trex. She doesn’t know you. You don’t know her. Settle the fuck down.

  She shook her head and turned back to face the television. “I work nights after I’m trained.”

  “That sucks.”

  She shrugged.

  Just one more minute. I’m not ready for it to be over yet. “Been busy today?”

  “Not really. Did you go up on the mountain?” She turned to face me, and I felt like I could breathe for the first time all day, and still strangled by the lie I was about to tell. Twelve hours before, I’d been instructed not to disclose my employer.

  “Uh…yeah,” I said. It wasn’t a lie.

  “You’re pretty clean. I guess you call the shots from the base or whatever it’s called?” She thought I was a hotshot, or possibly a Forestry Department guy, and if I told her otherwise, that would lead to questions.

  “Yep.” Also not a lie.

  A small smile pushed up her cheeks, and it was all over. Stavros had mentioned the effect the new hire had on the other guys, but the other guys hadn’t been waiting for her since high school. I’d tried to explain to myself all day why I thought she was my girl, but I couldn’t. She was beautiful, yes, but it was more than that. It was the way I felt every time I saw her, was close to her, heard her voice. I was already wrapped around her finger. It was part relief, part terror, part excitement.

  “You’re full of charm today.” Her eyes sparkled when she spoke, and her plush lips were a natural dark pink, lips that I had to tear my eyes away from. She was stunning. The thin skin under her eyes was a light shade of lavender, and I wondered how she was going to work until eleven. She looked exhausted. “Hungry?” I asked.

  “Stavros brought us sandwiches earlier.”

  “Glad to hear that.” I looked down, fidgeting with the keys in my hand. A new one hung from the key ring: blank, matte black—the master key to all authorized areas in the Complex. I had a job to do, and I needed to crash and get away from this girl. She couldn’t be her, anyway. I didn’t do complicated. Darby wasn’t just intoxicating…she was toxic. I could all but read every fucked-up thing that had happened to her, like they were scrolling credits in her eyes.

  “Well. Good night,” I said.

  “Night.”

  I stopped at the stairwell door, looking back to see Darby still standing in the lobby. She’d barely noticed I left. I hated that, too. And I hated that I hated it. I had to find my own place. Fast.

  Chapter Seven

  Trex

  It took a special kind of douchebag for me to feel hate almost immediately after meeting him, but the dude standing next to me in the elevator bay was ogling who he’d just called “the hot piece of ass behind the counter.” His eyes met mine, his brows lifted once, and then he targeted the same space where she was standing. I didn’t have to turn around to know who he was staring at. He didn’t look like a hotshot, but I’d seen him in the lobby. Then I recalled him standing in line to be checked in, his hand on the ass of the woman with whom he’d checked in.

  He laughed once, looking down. “I can’t walk away from that,” he said, turning for the front desk.

  I jabbed the elevator button with my thumb, silently scolding myself. She’s not your problem. You don’t care. You don’t care. Just go to your room. Stop caring. Fuck. The silver doors slid open, and I stepped inside. I sighed, waiting for the doors to close and to forget about the girl behind the desk. When the doors began to close, I pushed against them and rushed out like someone had thrown a grenade inside.

  The ass grabber was leaned over the check-in desk, practically cooing at Darby. She looked repulsed, and I couldn’t blame her. The dude still had bedhead from nailing his roommate upstairs. There was a white halo around where his wedding ring should’ve been, and something told me the woman upstairs wasn’t his wife.

  I glared at him before speaking. “Hey, babe. Before I forget, did you need me to bring you anything from the room?” I asked, trying to keep the rage out of my voice.

  She blinked, and for half a second, I wasn’t sure she’d play along. She glanced at the man in front of her, and her face relaxed with a smile. “No, but you don’t have to go right now. You can hang out here if you want.”

  The man stood upright. “Oh. Hey,” he said, holding his hand out to shake mine.

  I just stared at it, then returned my attention to the girl behind the desk.

  “Have a nice night, sir,” she said.

  The man simply nodded before retreating to the elevators.

  “Sorry. I had a feeling he was bugging you.”

  “He was,” she said, looking relaxed. Getting hit on put this girl in her element. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

  Nailed it. I liked being able to predict things about her, and not like it was a game. I felt a weird sense of pride.

  “I don’t doubt that for a second. Still…this way was more efficient.” I wasn’t sure that was the truth, and she wasn’t going to say otherwise. She’d probably had a lifetime of shooting men down. “Well…good night.”

  “Thank you,” she said before I made a full one-eighty. “I didn’t mean that I don’t appreciate the effort.”

  I hesitated befor
e speaking again. Even one more word, and…“Did you say you work nights?”

  “Until eleven this week. I start nights next week after I’m finished training.”

  “Training? Looks like you’re doing this solo already.”

  She smiled, her eyes twinkling. The siren-call thing she had going wasn’t even on purpose, and that’s what threw me off. She radiated effortless seduction and innocence at the same time. I’d never seen anything like it, and I was completely fucking sucked in.

  “Tilde wasn’t feeling well. She left a little early.”

  “You’re a champ. Stavros better never let you go,” I said. She smiled, and I kept talking just to see if I could make it happen again. “I’m at work by six a.m., so next week I’ll probably see you on the way out.”

  “Probably.” She didn’t twirl her hair, she didn’t stare too long into my eyes, she didn’t chat me up or give me a once-over. Nothing about her signaled that she was at all attracted to me, and still all I wanted was her attention. Just one more smile. One more word. Whatever she would give me, and it was pissing me off.

  “What are you doing for dinner?” I asked, not knowing what else to say.

  “Why?”

  I shrugged. “I could eat.”

  She laughed, and it was the best thing I’d ever heard. In fact, the more she spoke, the more I was sure she was her. “Why are you always trying to feed me?”

  I couldn’t help but laugh with her. She had a point. “I don’t know. You look hungry, I guess.”

  “Um…thanks?” She giggled.

  “I just meant…uh…” I looked around. Floundering desperately was something new for me. I usually met women at the bar, a club, or a party. This was worse than enemy territory. Of course, the one worth having would be a challenge. “The lobby cleared out fast.”

  She looked around, seeming to just notice. “Most of the hotshots either have to be up early to head up the mountain or are exhausted from just coming in from fire camp.”

  “Fire camp? You sound like one of them,” I teased.

  “Them?”

  “Us.”

  She watched me for a moment. She knew I was lying. Fuck. I’m better than this.

  “I’ve talked to over a hundred in the past two days,” she said. She was trying to let my comment slide off, proud that I’d pointed out how fast she’d picked up the lingo. One thing I learned at the Bureau was how to read people, and this girl—despite her efforts—was an open book for someone like me. She wasn’t from Colorado. By the sounds of it, she came straight from Texas. She wore the same clothes to work—not the typical uniform—and devoured the food I’d given her. She had come to the Springs in a hurry, with whatever money she had on her at that moment, and whatever clothes she was wearing. As much as I wanted to ask why she was running—or who she was running from—I didn’t want to scare her off.

  I shoved my hands in my pockets. “So…how’s the training going? Getting dropped in during a political fire had to be daunting.”

  “I’ve heard that a few times. What’s a political fire?”

  “One the news covers, so they bring everyone in.”

  “Oh. I didn’t know that’s what this is. Is that why you’re here?” I opened my mouth to speak, but she continued, “Because you were here before the fire.”

  I tried to keep my face smooth, but even if I didn’t believe in any god, lying to this girl felt like a sin. If I’d taken a job anywhere else, I could have told her. It was painful to say the words. “This area has been at high risk for a while.”

  “Is that what you do? Scout potential fire sites?”

  I rubbed the back of my neck. “It’s…complicated.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “Mysterious.”

  She carried a long, black remote to the sofas and pointed it at the television, changing the channel. The local news was still reporting on the fire, and she hugged her middle.

  “It’s okay,” I said, just realizing I’d automatically followed her. “It’s still miles out.”

  “Zeke said he’s going up soon. Seems like it’s getting worse.”

  “Eating up a lot of acreage, for sure. He’ll be fine. He’s been doing this awhile. You know him?”

  She shook her head. “He’s just been nice to me. We’re supposed to watch a movie when he gets back.”

  “Oh,” I said, understanding, and then feeling an overwhelming sense of disappointment.

  She turned to me, noting my expression. “No, we’re um…we’re just friends.”

  I nodded, trying not to look too relieved. She made me feel more on edge than being alone, at night, bleeding to death on the southern border of Sudan, and I loved it.

  Her cheeks filled and she blew out air.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  “Just feeling queasy and shaky all of a sudden.”

  “Maybe your blood sugar is low. Why don’t you sit? I’ll get you something out of the vending machine.”

  She shook her head. “The vending machine is full of junk.”

  “Okay. Anything in the breakfast room?”

  She thought about that. “Good idea. Probably cereal or a banana or something in there.”

  She started to get up again, but I held up one hand. She didn’t look in any condition to protest. “You just relax. I’ll find you something.”

  I jogged across the lobby to the dining area, searching through the cabinets. I found two bowls of cereal, a banana, and hiding behind a door was a full-sized refrigerator full of school cafeteria–sized cartons of milk and small cups of vanilla ice cream. “Score,” I said aloud, grabbing four cups and two spoons.

  I jogged back. Her eyes widened and she scooted to the edge of her seat. “Oh my god, are you serious?”

  I set down the ice cream, the plastic spoons, the milk, the bowls of cereal, and the banana. “Knock yourself out.”

  “We have ice cream?”

  I watched with strange satisfaction as she opened the milk and peeled back the cover on the cereal bowl and combined them, then dug in. She poured more milk into a second bowl and finished that off, too, before peeling the banana. She hummed, and I smiled, my entire body relaxing as I watched her eat. She tossed the peel to the table, prompting me to open two cups of ice cream.

  “To continental breakfasts,” I said, holding my cup toward hers.

  She touched her cup to mine. “To Stavros. I’m going to have to pay him back for all of this.”

  I scooped out a spoonful of creamy white and put it in my mouth. “I don’t eat breakfast. It makes up for this.”

  She tried to stifle a smile but failed, and then she scooped a bite, closing her eyes and savoring every moment the ice cream was in her mouth.

  “You look pretty happy right now.”

  “I am,” she said, leaning back against the soft cushion. “You have no idea.”

  “Is it a good time to ask about your name?”

  She turned her head toward me. “My name?”

  “Yeah. Maddox tells me there’s a story.”

  “Oh,” she said, brushing the crumbs off her pants. “So you were talking to Taylor about me, huh?”

  I would’ve been embarrassed, but the slightest hint of a smile curved the corners of her mouth. “Yep.”

  Her gaze found its way to the ceiling, and a million memories seemed to play in her mind. “It’s really dumb.”

  “Nothing dumb about that name.” Darby. It fit her perfectly. Unique without being silly. Not too feminine but effortlessly beautiful. “Where did your parents come up with that?”

  She sighed. “There’s a film about a drunk Irish guy and leprechauns that they used to watch all the time. I guess I’m named after him. Sort of.”

  “Darby O’Gill and the Little People?”

  She giggled. “You’ve heard of it? My brother used to say it was awful.”

  Used to. Damn it. Her brother is dead. Don’t be an agent right now, Trex. Don’t analyze everything she says and grill her about what doe
sn’t make sense right now. Just listen.

  “That’s quite a story. Not as intriguing as I thought, but unique, nevertheless. Sean Connery was in that movie, you know. The special effects are quite convincing.”

  She covered her laugh, still staring up at the ceiling. She looked exhausted. I glanced at my watch. The other kid, Ander, should be coming in to relieve her within an hour, and that meant our conversation would be over.

  “Your turn,” she said.

  I settled into the sofa. “I’m from Kansas, originally. Goodland. My dad, Scott, is a Baptist preacher. My mom, Susanne, plays the piano and leads the choir. I have a little sister, Hailey. She’ll be a senior this year.”

  Darby looked at me as if I were describing the perfect family, and I should have just let her believe that, but I was already being dishonest with her about my career. Lying to her about anything else felt even more wrong.

  “Nope, it’s not as great as it sounds.”

  “Really? Because it sounds pretty great.”

  “My dad was strict. As in ‘Spare the rod, spoil the child.’ He’d beat me, then beat my mom for crying over it. He’s chilled out over the years, though.”

  Darby winced. She was empathic to the point that she could feel the belt on my mother’s skin. Probably because she had felt it in the past. My heart sped up, the hairs on the back of my neck tingled as the unavoidable vision formed in my mind. “Sorry,” I said, through my teeth. I took a breath to try to relax my jaw. “Probably too much info.”

  “No, it’s okay.” She looked at me differently, like we were on the same team. Trust flickered in her eyes, but I knew it would take more than a story to win her over. “How old were you when it stopped?” she asked.

  “When I got bigger than him. I moved out as soon as I was eighteen…” I nearly said “to join the Marines,” but caught myself. Telling her about my military career would only lead into how I became a hotshot or worked with the hotshots. I couldn’t tell her what I really did, and she didn’t know me well enough to know I wasn’t bullshitting. My choices were to lie…or to lie. I figured keeping that part of my life as vague as possible wouldn’t hurt. “I moved to San Diego for a bit.”

 

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