by Leslie North
She saw the exact moment recognition set in.
Lana's eyes rounded in disbelief. Any other person would have probably looked like a goldfish deprived of water in that moment, but Lana's shocked expression was even more endearing than the contemplative look she usually wore.
"Sookie!" Lana exclaimed. She held her arms out instinctively for a hug.
Sookie exhaled a breath she hadn't been aware she was holding—which turned out to be a mistake, because in the next instant, Lana was on the porch with her, squeezing her hard enough to collapse her lungs. Sookie did manage enough air to laugh, and the sound was one of relief.
"Lana Sweet. I do declare."
"You have a lot to declare," Lana replied. "Get in here, girl! I just brought the sun tea in from the porch. Can I interest you in a glass?"
"You know it." Sookie followed Lana inside. The house was a cute little one-story, with as many flowers growing in the pots out front as there were flowers peeking out of vases indoors. She inhaled deeply and was not disappointed; Lana's home smelled as sweet as her surname.
The walls of the hallway were lined with paintings, and the living room mantle was cluttered with photographs. Sookie crossed to the shelf, picking up one frame that lay on its face, before setting it back down quickly as Lana entered with the tea. She had recognized Lana in the picture—and Hank, and Lana's brother, Michael.
Lana hadn't noticed the invasion of her privacy. She smiled so widely now that her eyes squeezed themselves into crescents. "Now explain yourself, Sookie Logan!" Lana exclaimed. "Just what the hell are you doing here? I thought you'd left Cedar Springs behind you for good!"
"So had I," Sookie admitted as she settled herself on the couch. Lana poured them each a glass of tea out of the crystalline pitcher before sitting down herself. "But I couldn't stay away, not with the fire raging so near. I fly choppers now with the National Guard."
"No kidding." Lana whistled. "So that helicopter I heard flying overhead the other day . . . that was you?"
Sookie nodded. "Yeah. Sorry about all the noise. I can steal you a cool pair of noise-canceling headphones, if you want."
"I'm sure I would look extra vogue walking around in them." Lana shook her head and chuckled. She leaned forward and added, "So tell me, what does Cedar Springs look like from all the way up there?"
"Small," Sookie admitted. Fragile, she thought privately. Sleepy and complacent and tinder-dry.
"Nothing here ever changes, you know?" Lana said.
"Better hope it stays that way," Sookie warned. "I know a nearby wildfire that is seriously looking to change things up. And it won't be for the better."
Lana shrugged. "This region's no stranger to fires, Sook. You grew up here, the same as I did. There were plenty of summers we stayed inside because of the smoke.”
Yeah, but I have a feeling this one is different. Sookie didn't say as much out loud. She rarely discussed her gut feelings with anyone; she was content to act on them when situations arose—and deal with the consequences. Unfortunately, she was rarely wrong . . . which was why she now kept her creeping suspicion about the fire to herself.
I want to be wrong.
They had plenty of capable people, on the ground and in the air, dealing with blaze. She had no proof that it would rage out of hand. It would probably wind up being just as toothless as anything she had faced so far. It probably just bothered her more than the others because it was so close to home.
"Sookie?" Lana was looking at her, eyebrows furrowed and concern etched across her pretty face. "Is something wrong?"
Sookie shook her head. "Sorry. Work stuff. Sometimes I get distracted."
"No kidding. So what else is new with you?" Lana asked as she set her tea down. "Is the National Guardswoman still guarding her heart?"
Sookie bristled. "I'm not guarding anything, Lana."
"Mhmmm." Lana hummed as she picked up her tea again and took a very loud sip out of her straw.
Sookie had never heard a sound so perfectly articulate a person's thoughts better than actual words. She revised her response to be less defensive. "Lana, the only thing I care about protecting right now is Cedar Springs. And that means checking up on your sorry ass. You're my favorite person in this town, you know."
"I appreciate it." Lana's voice was full of feeling again.
"Well, aside from Dyna," Sookie added.
"That goes without saying."
"And . . . speaking of favorite people," Sookie said. She hesitated. Did she really want to do this?
Lana stared at her, patiently waiting, although the hands that had been nervous all through their conversation suddenly stilled in her lap. "Yes?"
Sookie expelled a long breath. "All right. I might as well tell you. The odds of you running into him sooner or later are too damn high, and I don't want you to be caught unawares.” She hesitated, then plunged ahead. “Hank's here, Lana. He brought a few of his guys with him; they're down from Alaska to help out with the fire."
Lana stared straight ahead, studying dead air. The silence deepened between them. Sookie shifted uncomfortably beside her on the couch. She was just about to wave her hand in front of Lana's face to make sure she hadn't broken the other woman when Lana blinked and seemed to reboot. She nodded in understanding, her smile tight, but at least it had returned for the time being. "Thanks, Sookie. I appreciate you telling me," she said.
What Sookie thought the woman would appreciate more was a subject change, so she barreled on. "He's got this one guy with him, Chase, who I apparently met before up in Alaska . . . I didn't recognize him right away. He was just a fresh-faced recruit back then, but he's packed on some serious muscle since—and managed to pad his ego while he's at it."
Lana snorted, but her eyes shimmered in amusement. "He sounds handsome," she goaded.
"He's handsome as all hell," Sookie agreed, "but I'm getting a total player vibe. I kid you not, Lana, my brother was standing only inches away, and this guy Chase still couldn't keep his eyes off my ass. I'll be surprised if he manages to keep his job if he doesn't learn a little discretion."
Lana laughed. "That sounds about right."
Her friend's laughter warmed Sookie. It was a laugh that told her she had made the right decision in coming by—and in telling Lana that Hank was in town. "Sounds like Hank's still looking out for you," Lana continued.
The warm sensation chilled instantly. "Hank couldn't care less about where I am or what I get up to," Sookie said flatly. "It's always been that way, and you know it."
She instantly regretted coming off so harsh, but Lana seemed unfazed. The woman had always accepted Sookie's rough edges with more grace than anyone else. "It never looked that way to me," her friend said simply. "I know the two of you had your differences, and your family went through a lot."
"Two orphans who can't stand to be in the same room as each other don't make a family," Sookie insisted. She traced a pattern in the condensation dripping down her glass just so she had a reason to keep her eyes averted. Lana was one of the gentlest souls she had ever met, but she also had one of the most penetrating stares of anyone Sookie had ever known. "And I doubt Hank's trying to play house now. He's just buggin' because Little Sis is all grown up and she has an ass that won't quit."
"You do have a nice ass," Lana agreed with a straight face.
Sookie sat up more primly. "Thank you," she said.
"But of course."
Their faux manners dissolved, and the two broke into gales of laughter.
They sat and chatted a bit more, until the molten light from the sunset shone through the western windows.
Sookie said her goodbyes. She needed time alone to think, and she intended to go in search of a stronger drink than Lana's tea to help her through the process.
"Goodbye, Sookie." Lana walked her out to the front porch and wrapped the younger woman in her arms again. "Don't be a stranger."
"I won't." Sookie squeezed back. If there was one thing she had missed about the p
eople of Cedar Springs, it was their hugs. "Thanks for the tea, Lana."
She glanced behind her as she walked down the street. Lana stood silhouetted in the window, gazing out across town, like an illustrated princess in a storybook, waiting for her knight-errant to ride back into her life.
Seeing her like this tugged at Sookie's cold, cold heart. Obviously Lana still wasn't completely over Hank. She knew she had done the right thing by bringing her friend the news of her brother's return, but a part of her wished it could have been avoided. Lana deserved peace in her life, more than anyone else Sookie knew. She had already been through enough heartache to last her a lifetime.
They all had.
Given how she had spent the afternoon, a Long Island Iced Tea seemed an appropriate way to close out the evening.
Sookie stood on the flat roof of the Springs Well, alone, drink in hand, and gazed off toward the horizon. She had never been satisfied to view the world from ground level, and that was even before she was a licensed pilot. From her current vantage, she could see the wildfire burning in the distance, radiating an infernal light.
"Mind if I join you?"
Sookie started. She had been so lost in thought that she hadn't heard anyone else let themselves out onto the roof. She turned—and was strangely unsurprised to see Chase Kingston strolling toward her, a beer in his hand.
She pretended to study him, then gestured to the empty stretch of railing beside her. "By all means."
"Figured I'd ask," he continued. He leaned on the railing and took a casual sip from his bottle. "Can never be too careful," he added.
Sookie raised an eyebrow. "You don't need kid gloves when you're dealing with me."
"My own experience says otherwise," Chase replied. "I'm not sure which Sookie Logan I'm liable to get: the Ice Queen, or the Firecracker."
"Something tells me you're used to abrupt changes in temperature," Sookie said.
"Sure. But I'm not used to getting iced."
"Says the guy from Alaska," she pointed out.
"You know what I mean. I probably don't have to tell you this, but women don't usually walk away from me the way you did."
"Hmmm." Sookie leaned her forearms beside him and took a long sip off the top of her tea. "Well, what can I say? I'm an anomaly."
"You're something else, all right."
She glanced sidelong at Chase, feeling secure enough in the darkness to study him for the moment as best she could. The lone light mounted in the alcove of the roof access door only made his profile appear more incredible: She admired the slant of his nose, the cleaving definition of his jaw. He took another swig of beer, and she watched the shadows around his throat gather, his Adam's apple jump, as he swallowed. Even his lips were strangely, sensuously pronounced in the darkness. When was the last time she had really noticed a man's lips?
I can't help it, Sookie consoled herself. He talks so damn much. Hell, Chase was still talking now.
". . . didn't mean anything by it. When I came up to you the other day."
"Didn't you?" Sookie didn't have to manufacture her disbelief.
The lips that hovered maddeningly close to her in the darkness grimaced. "Okay, maybe I did. Maybe I meant to be the one walking away first . . . only in my version of events, I'd have your phone number."
"You meant to get into my pants," she added helpfully.
"Is that so surprising?" Chase asked. He turned to her, and Sookie didn't turn away. "You're a gorgeous woman. You're a pilot. And you shut me down. Of course I want you. I'd be crazy not to pursue you."
"So what's stopping you?"
Her question hung in the air between them. She hadn't intended to bait him, but she couldn't help it. The alcohol burned in her bloodstream, and Chase's nearness was already hitting her like a second round. She wanted more. She wanted to see just how far she could push him before he turned his words into action.
And he seemed about to act on something. The air around them was charged, as if he had already worked out his next move, what space he would occupy, and to what end.
Sookie liked to think she was the intended prize, and leaned in a little, just to make his decision easier. Her shoulder brushed his. His lips would taste like the beer he was drinking, she knew. In fact, she was counting on it.
"You're the chief's sister," Chase said. He didn't retreat from her altogether, but drew back slightly as he spoke; her shoulder felt immediately colder without the contact.
Talk about getting iced.
It was as if Chase had needed to hear himself say the words out loud to convince himself. Sookie snorted and turned away. She didn't trust the darkness to be enough to hide her sudden disappointment.
"Hank would kill me," Chase said.
"Hank can go fuck himself," she replied. The recommendation came naturally, and she was proud of the fact.
Chase scoffed a surprised laugh and held up his hands. "You said it, not me."
"Why are you so scared of him?" Sookie demanded. "You can't tell me you haven't thought the exact same thing. C'mon, you can be honest with me! I'm not going to run and tell Big Brother that one of the guys on his squad was venting to me on the roof of the bar." She glanced up at the sky. If there was anyone around to eavesdrop, it was the moon and stars, and even those were hidden behind a curtain of haze. "And I'm not going to run and tell him that you spent most of your evening off up here flirting with me. Hell, I wouldn't make a peep if you decided to do more than just flirt." It was the Long Island talking now, not her. It was alcohol that made her blood heat and not the molten-hot firefighter standing close enough to touch.
"You're his sister," Chase reiterated quietly.
Sookie blinked. She had yet to hear him speak with real reverence in regard to anything, but this felt close to it.
And it pissed her the hell off.
"Right. His sister. I'm not his property!" she hissed. She turned and jammed a finger into Chase's chest, which was a mistake—the violence of her gesture was no match for his solid wall of muscle, and her finger hurt in the aftermath, which only pissed her off more. "He has no right to decide how I live my life! He doesn't get to have a goddamn say in anything!"
"Easy." Chase caught her wrists, and Sookie was satisfied. Maybe her aggressive finger-punching had made an impact after all. The sensation of his massive hands clamped around her bare, slender arms felt good. His hooded expression, there and gone in a moment, told her he felt the same way.
"If there's one thing I'm not, Mr. Kingston, it's easy," she stated. She pulled away from him, and Chase let her go. They both knew he could have held her there for as long as he wanted, if he wanted—and a part of Sookie wished he'd had the balls to keep her. "And you know what?" she added as she snatched her empty glass off the porch railing. "Hank's not the only one who can go fuck himself. You can go fuck yourself, too, Mr. Kingston."
"Good night, Sookie." Chase gave a half-hearted wave, already turning to head for the roof exit.
Sookie's breath caught, and her heart stuttered to a stop. That was it? He was just going to let her walk all over him like that? What the hell happened to the brash alpha she had been sparring with earlier?
She had the words to drive him away, but she didn't have the ones to call him back. She watched him disappear into the square of light without a backward glance. The door swung shut behind him.
Sookie cursed below her breath. As much as Chase drove her crazy, she didn't want him to be another casualty in the long war between her and Hank. And after what Hank had done—how dare he? How fucking dare he? He had no right to intervene in any aspect of her life, and he sure as hell had no right to pull rank on any member of his squad who had the audacity to look at her like a woman.
The attraction that burned between her and Chase was one fire Hank Logan wouldn't be able to put out, no matter how hard he tried.
Sookie just hoped she didn't accidentally put it out first.
Chapter 5
Chase
"Kingston,
you're up."
Chase glanced around the room as he came back to himself. His brain had dropped him right in the middle of a steamy daydream about Sookie, and for a moment, he couldn't remember where he was. Then he took in the faces of the men seated around him, some familiar, most belonging to members of the local fire department, and remembered where he was.
They had all agreed to meet at the Cedar Springs station today to receive their assignments. It was his first official day on duty, and the local fire chief was staring at him from the front of the room.
Chase straightened in his chair. "Ready, Chief," he said.
"I want you to be my eyes in the air today," the Springs chief said. "You'll be going up in the chopper with a member of the National Guard." The chief nodded toward the back of the room, and Chase turned. He had been so preoccupied with his torrid fantasy of Sookie that he’d failed to notice when the woman herself actually walked in.
Sookie leaned against the back wall, arms crossed over the front of her flight suit, her glossy chocolate hair pulled back from her severe face. She looked . . . ambivalent. Chase turned forward, nodded, decided to look the same.
On the inside, he was a mess of nerves.
Hank watched him suspiciously. Chase met his eyes, had an oh shit! moment, before remembering that his chief could not, in fact, read his mind, nor could the man telepathically rifle through the filthy contents of his thoughts . . . even if that was exactly what Hank’s scowl suggested.
"You got it, Chief," he said. The meeting moved on to the next assignment, and Chase sat back in his chair.
Fifteen minutes later, he was geared up and strolling across the tarmac to the chopper. Sookie was waiting for him, and beyond her, he could see the silhouette of her copilot already belted in, anonymous in his helmet, head bent over a checklist.
They stared one another down from behind their aviator shades.
"Ready?" she asked.
Chase gave her a thumbs-up.
"You're nervous!" she crowed.