Chapter Three

In Which the Flirting Gets a Little Too Hot

I follow Marcus’s huge truck to the outer edge of the county and find myself pulling into the shared driveway that runs alongside the house I share with a few other girls from the Wild Hare. For a moment, I’m weirded out. Why is he driving to my house? It’s only when he turns to the left instead of heading right that I realize Marcus isn’t going down the driveway to my house, but is turning into the old abandoned fire station right off the highway. I park next to him in front of one of the three bays and hop out.

“Is this the place you bought?”

“Yes. It sits on twenty acres. Pretty good for what my uncle left me in his will.”

I touch his arm and point out the front porch light on my house, shining faintly through the trees. “You see that light over there? That’s where I live. We’re neighbors.”

“Seriously?”

“Completely. I live there with two other girls from, uh, work,” I tell him as I follow him up to a regular door at the side of the bay doors. He unlocks it and turns to me with a smile.

“Well then, it was definitely meant to be.”

I can’t help but smile back at him.

“Ladies first.” He reaches in and turns on the lights for me as I step inside what was once the main lobby of the fire station. To my left is a long hallway. Beside it, a wide staircase leads up to an open landing. Straight ahead is a tall counter.

As soon as he shuts the door behind us, I can hear it–the sound of an animal braying.

I turn back to him and grin. “Are you keeping the animals inside?”

He smiles. “Sort of. Do you want to come see?”

I do not want to “come see”, but I can’t tell him that. “Sure,” I tell him, returning the smile.

He guides me with a warm hand on the small of my back toward the hall. We move slowly down the speckled tiled floor, our heels tapping, the only sound in the echoey corridor as we walk toward what I’m guessing is the original truck bay. He pushes open the door and, ever the gentleman, allows me to go through first.

Immediately, I can smell it–the unmistakable smell of livestock. There are no horses, thank God, but a few donkeys are roaming around a makeshift pen Marcus created for them in the farthest corner. Marcus moves around me and heads to the pen at a slow but steady pace while I drag behind, moving as slowly as I can without looking too crazy.

He turns back to look at me and his face lights up at whatever he sees. “You coming, Sarah?” he laughs.

“I am.” I move across the bay reluctantly as dread fills my gut at the sight of so many large animals.

“So I’m guessing you’re not a fan?” he says when I finally make it to his side.

“More like large animals don’t like me. Lugh says they can sense my nervousness, and it upsets them.”

“Well, these guys just want to be your friend.”

“What are these guys? Donkeys?” I guess as I carefully lean against the fence.

He smiles his dazzling smile. “Yep. That’s Daisy, Paco, Amigo, Champ, and that little lady over there is Willow. Ramona, the horse, didn’t want to come in, so I’m going to just have to hope she is alright for the night outside.” The shortest and derpiest of the lot lifts its head and waddles toward me. It takes everything within me not to make an idiot of myself and jerk away as her pace quickens. She is a pretty brown, but her coat is patchy and uneven. I stand completely still as she approaches and bumps my hand with her nose. “Looks like Willow’s taken a liking to you,” Marcus chuckles.

Carefully, I reach out for her head and scratch behind her ears. She doesn’t even come up to my shoulder. I shouldn’t be as nervous as I am, but I still find my hands shaking slightly as I pet her head. She pushes hard against my hand, insisting I move to the other ear, as I breathe slowly, trying to control the rising panic filling my chest.

“So, uh, are they going to permanently live inside?”

“No, but this place still needs a lot of work, and I don’t want to leave them outside alone overnight without shelter.”

“The Dvergar, the people that run the mines back behind us, they’re amazing builders. They helped Jacqueline and Lugh build the house they’re in now. You might see if they’d be willing to do some side jobs for you. I hear they’re pretty fast, too.”

He considers this for a moment. “The Dvergar? The dwarves? They live here?”

“A small group of them do. They’re reclusive, but they’re pretty good guys.”

“I’ll have to look into that.” We lapse into silence for a short while as Willow gets more and more demanding. “So Sarah,” he starts.

“Yeah?” I ask absently, concentrating on petting Willow without freaking out.

“Want to end this torture? I can make us some coffee upstairs.”

“It’s not torture,” I lie.

He huffs a laugh. “Your face says otherwise.”

“Fine. Yes, please.”

“Here, let’s wash up.”

To the side of the makeshift pen is an old metal sink. Marcus turns on the water and then meticulously washes his hands. “Preparing for surgery, Dr. Jones?” I ask as we take turns running our hands under the water.

He laughs. “Hygiene around animals is important. You don’t want to pass something around and you don’t want to get something from them. Can I show you?”

I nod. “Of course.”

He moves behind me, wrapping his arms around me from behind and taking my hands in his like a small child. He doesn’t press his body up to mine, but it’s incredibly intimate to be this close and have my hands in his.

“Do you do this for all the volunteers?” I tease as we finish up.

“Only the ones I like,” he says with a wink. “Are you still up for coffee, or have I worn you out by meeting the kids?”

“It takes a lot more than that to wear me out,” I say before I realize how it sounds.

He chuckles. “Good to know.”

Our eyes meet and for a moment I’m fifteen again–completely awestruck by how wonderful he is. Butterflies immediately fill my stomach. He clears his throat and turns away, chuckling softly.

Out of the corner of my eye, a small bale of hay ignites, a tiny flame growing across the top of the flat surface. Quietly, I sidestep and touch the bale of hay with the bracelet. The flame doesn’t diminish.

I close my eyes and consider how to control feelings I’ve had since I was fifteen. I have no idea what I’m doing. Desperately, I start thinking of the least sexy things I can.

This bale of hay.

The donkeys.

The smell of the barn.

Coffee.

Marcus making coffee.

Marcus’s hands as he pours each cup.

Marcus’s hands in other places.

I open my eyes, and the flame is still there. I’m totally going to have to lie or fess up. That’ll be fun. I can just imagine it. “Sorry, I’m so horny for you. It’s causing me to cast fire magic everywhere, anytime I’m around you.” If I thought having my diary read aloud at fifteen was embarrassing, just wait until—

Then, without warning, the flame goes out as if it never existed. Pity party for the win?

“Sarah?” Marcus is halfway across the bay. He’s turned and is looking at me.

“Sorry, I thought I saw a mouse…but there was nothing there.”

He comes over to where I’m standing and inspects the hay. “Does this look burned to you?” He asks, picking up a few blacked stalks at the top.

“Maybe?” I hedge. “Could it be mold?”

“Maybe,” he says, but he doesn’t sound convinced. He pulls the blackened hay from the bale and tosses it in the trash. “Probably a good idea if I put traps out in the morning, just in case.”

“Couldn’t hurt,” I agree guiltily.

I follow him out of the bay and back into the hall. Thankfully, the stairs to the second floor aren’t steep. He grabs a cane leaning against the wall at the bottom of the stairs and uses it as we go up, but he seems to have had a lot of practice with the prosthetic. I slow down to keep pace with him.

The stairs lead up into a large open room with a few doors off to the right. A large, dated kitchen takes up the entire left side. Just as Marcus warned, there’s not much up here yet. A small table with a few chairs is set up near the kitchen area. Beyond the table is a couch. This was probably the place where the firefighters all hung out while on call.

“Sit wherever. I’m going to make coffee. How do you take yours?”

“More milk than coffee, please, and two spoons of sugar.” Unlike other men I’ve given my coffee order to, he doesn’t make a comment about how uncoffee-like my coffee is. He moves toward a counter as I turn to the couch, only to find a large ball of fur laying motionless smack dab in the middle of it.

“Is this another friend?” I ask, settling carefully on one end of the couch.

“Yeah, that’s Freddie K. He showed up on my porch after my divorce, missing a big patch of hair and covered in fleas. It was around Halloween and there was a Nightmare on Elm Street marathon running on TV, so I had to name him Freddie. He was ancient back then and now, I don’t know… he’s on, like, his tenth life. He’s deaf and half blind, so don’t expect too much activity on his end.”

Freddie K starts to snore, but doesn’t acknowledge us otherwise.

“Just so you know,” Marcus says as he hands me a mug carefully over Freddie K’s sleeping body before taking up the other end of the sofa, “you don’t have to volunteer if you are uncomfortable around the animals.”

I shake my head. “I need to get over it, anyway. Maybe exposure will help. Jacqueline will be popping out another baby soon and it would be good if I could offer more in the way of help other than just distracting their oldest for a few hours at a time and washing dishes.”

“I’m sure they appreciate that, too.”

I take a sip of the coffee. “Yes, but Lugh’s always after me to grow up.”

“You look pretty grown up to me.”

I roll my eyes at him, even as a secret thrill fills my belly. I look around quickly. Thankfully, no fires ignite. “I’m the same height I was last time you saw me.” I say, playing dumb. “No, you know–job with benefits, house, kids… the whole deal.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Do you really think Lugh expects all that right now from you, or could it be he just wants to see you in a secure spot in your life?”

I sigh. “Everyone knows security is an illusion. You’re walking around one day, life is fine and then suddenly one day everything just blows up in your face and–” I stop talking, horrified at how epically I’ve just put my foot in my mouth. Marcus just laughs.

“Exactly. But it doesn’t mean you still don’t try to plan, you still don’t work towards that goal.”

“Marcus,” I reach across Freddie K and put a hand on his knee. “I am so sorry, I didn’t mean—”

He shakes his head. “Don’t be. I’m over it. Mostly.”

“Mostly, huh?”

He nods. “Mostly. I spent a lot of years in therapy. So many years…” He sighs and looks away for a moment. I wait, worried I’ve pushed too far. “The doctors went around and around for quite a while about whether I’d be able to keep my leg. I got lucky that I ended up with a below the knee amputation, but it didn’t feel like it at the time. When they finally decided I had to have the amputation, I was stuck in this stupid army medical limbo. Couldn’t do much because I was in physical therapy. I was pissed off all the time and just not a good person to be around.”

He closes his eyes as if he’s trying to picture it. “There was this dude at the physical therapy clinic who seemed to be on the same exact schedule as me. That asshole had a leg joke every fucking time I came in. If I tried to get past him really quickly, he’d just yell it as I rolled past.”

“I was so pissed off at the world. I didn’t want to deal with anyone trying to be positive or optimistic. But that fucker, I swear to God, he had a fucking sixth sense about when I was the angriest. I was so close to calling him out, just fucking telling him off once and for all. Then I see him walking out one day. Come to find out this asshole is almost completely blind, missing a leg and an arm, all because he went back for a friend who ended up dying in the end. I felt like an asshole being so angry about just this,” he says, motioning toward the prosthetic.

I shake my head. “Suffering isn’t a competition. You’re still allowed to be pissed off about it. Just because other people have it worse–”

“True,” he cuts me off, “but I wasn’t doing myself or anyone else any favors. I pushed a lot of good people away. I lost Catrina, my ex, that way. I just kept pushing everyone away, refusing to accept help. It took me a long time to realize how messed up I’d become.” He lapses into silence and we sit for a moment, staring at our cups. “On that cheery note, interested in another cup?”

“Yes, but it’s my turn to get the refills,” I say, standing up.

“But you’re my guest.”

“And you just said you’re bad at accepting help. Let me at least take turns with you. Besides, I’d like to learn your coffee order. You know mine, after all.”

“So, you want to learn my coffee order?” he says, a smile on his lips.

“Yes. Isn’t that what friends do?”

He chuckles, his voice deep and rich, the sound sending a shiver down my spine. “Friends do. Two sugars.”

The plug to the coffee pot sparks and I close my eyes, stirring a little too long to work on controlling the excitement brewing in my belly. When I open my eyes, the pot seems to be back to normal. There’s not even the smell of burned plastic. I look around quickly for any other possible tiny fires, and finding none, pick up our cups and head back to the couch.

“So tell me what’s been up with you,” Marcus says as I sit on the couch.

“That’s the thing,” I tell him as I take a sip. “If I had anything going on other than a dead-end job, Lugh wouldn’t be on my ass. But life is… really crazy lately.”

“And college?”

I shake my head. “I never finished. I went from pre-med to education to accounting to counseling to beauty school and then decided I was wasting everyone’s time and money.”

“Did you ever consider the military?”

I laugh. “Are you recruiting?”

He shakes his head. “Absolutely not, just seeing how far along you are on the desperation scale.”

I tilt my head. “Desperation scale?”

“Yes, you know, we’d see them every year in the Army. There’s that first round of kids that hits basic right off of graduation. They’re the ones that have been planning to go into the military for a while and then a few months later…September, October, November rolls around and you’ll see the ‘oh shit’ kids who are high up on the desperation scale.”

“Oh,” I smile, catching on. “They get to the end of the summer and realize they need to do something, so the military is their last choice.”

He points at me and smiles. “Exactly. Was that ever you?”

I shake my head. “Never. Lugh would never allow it, even if I had been desperate. Besides, I’m too restless. I don’t think I could ever sit still long enough back then, and now…”

“Now?” he echoes.

“Now, if I sleep with the wrong pillow, I wake up in pain for a week.”

“Young lady, do not even come here and try to tell me about old age.”

“Admit it, Marcus. I’m old now, too.”

He shakes his head. “I’ll admit, I still had the image of the kid I used to know, but now—”

“You know the truth of my elderly state!” I tease before he can finish his sentence.

He just shakes his head and rolls his eyes.