Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Caleb

I did survive the shift. Barely. I already liked Tony a little too much. I wished he were more arrogant or meaner. Working so closely together would be easier if I hated the guy. And yes, that was twisted logic, but my lengthy history of ill-advised crushes meant I needed to be vigilant. With any luck, tomorrow, he'd reveal some gross habit or other dealbreaker.

As I exited the station, I squinted against the evening summer sun. Weird to be coming off shift in the evening, but the department was experimenting with twelve-hour shifts instead of the twenty-four on/forty-eight off we'd been used to. The theory was that the schedule change might make recruiting and retention easier. I wasn't so sure, but with my brother's arrival imminent, twelves would help me keep tabs on Scotty.

I'd done what I could over the weekend to prepare for Scotty, but I continued to be on edge, skin prickly and stomach wobbly, as I drove to the school parking lot where the camp buses were due to drop off. Scotty had spent the last two weeks at an outdoor adventure camp my mom found for him. It was supposed to be some sort of reset for at-risk teens, and I hoped like heck it had worked.

Giving him a fresh start was the whole point of him staying with me for the rest of the summer and the coming school year. Accordingly, I grinned as campers exited the bus, happy and sweaty teens full of good cheer as they high-fived each other and promised to stay in touch.

"Scotty!" I called out as soon as I spotted his blond head. Like me, he had short-cropped blond hair, blue eyes, and slightly pointed ears. Unlike me, he was taller, more naturally lean and muscled, and moved with an enviable grace. No awkward, chubby, nerdy years for him.

"Caleb?" He frowned as he whirled around.

"Bro, he called you Scotty ." One of the teen boys near Scotty slapped his back, jostling his oversized backpack.

"Beam me up," added a dark-haired kid, and Scotty winced, nose wrinkling.

"Sorry." Scotty's mouth twisted as he came closer to where I was standing. "My camp name was Chester."

"Huh?" I was all in favor of whatever it took to reboot Scotty's attitude and behavior, but a name change was unexpected.

"Like the Cheetah in the chip ads? It's because I run fast."

"Ah." I nodded as I held out a hand for his luggage. Scotty was indeed a fast runner to the point of earning varsity status in track and football. "So, do I call you Chester now?"

"Nah. Scotty. Maybe Scott." Scotty gave an easy shrug as he passed over his backpack. "We'll see if the team gives me a nickname here. You did get me signed up for tryouts, right?"

Sports were seldom far from Scotty's mind, so I'd made a point of inquiring about football when I'd submitted his registration paperwork. "Apparently, if you sign a waiver and can pay the fee, you're on the team."

"No tryouts? Weak." He groaned. His Portland high school had routinely finished at the top of their division with multiple state championships. Mount Hope was in a much smaller division with pretty much the opposite reputation, something Scotty had taken issue with from the start. "Told you. This year is gonna suck."

"It will with that attitude." My voice took on a clipped edge as I gestured toward the parking lot. "Let's get a move on."

"Fuck, Caleb, you sound just like Mom." Scotty didn't seem in any hurry to follow me to my truck, so I turned to give him a harsh glare.

"And you sound like a sailor."

"Since when do you care if I curse?" Scotty wrinkled his nose like I'd forgotten to use deodorant. He had a point. I did sound overly parental, especially considering I was around salty-talking first responders all day.

"Since I signed the guardian papers with Mom." I made an effort to keep my tone as measured as my steps toward the truck.

"No one asked you to."

"Mom did." After our father had died, our mom had a long journey through grief and widowhood, eventually going back to school and getting a business degree and a realty license. Her small business finally turned a profit right as Scotty's school and behavior problems reached a crisis point. Together, we'd worked out this plan for Scotty's fresh start, something he'd only reluctantly agreed to. "That matters."

"To you." He sounded more seven than seventeen.

"Get in the truck, Scotty." I unlocked my truck and threw his bag into the back seat.

"Nice wheels." He cast an admiring glance over the black truck I'd scrimped and saved for after my old beater car had finally died on one too many snowy hills in Mount Hope. "I see being a firefighter pays beyond the uniform helping you bag chicks. Or dicks."

"I'm not bagging anyone right now." I knew better than to take the bait, but my tone returned to clipped. "My only focus is on my work and getting you through school."

"Ha." Scotty snorted. "You? Trying not to smash?"

"Maybe I've reformed, and you can too." I matched his sarcasm with snappiness. I'd never been particularly wild, but I had always had a reputation for being social. I was tired of people not taking me seriously simply because I liked to go out a lot.

"Oh my God, now you sound like a motivational speaker at school." Scotty leaned his seat all the way back and pretended to fake snore as I pulled out of the parking lot.

"So this is Mount Hope." I took the long way back to our rental. Scotty had left for camp from Portland and had only visited me in Mount Hope a handful of times.

However, he met my eagerness to show off with a scoff. "Tiny."

"It's not that bad. Peaceful. Pretty in winter."

"Don't try and sell me on the snow." Scotty gave an exaggerated shudder before brightening. "Unless you're paying for snowboarding lessons."

I doubted my budget would stretch that far, even with Mom contributing to Scotty's expenses, but I didn't want to start another argument. Instead, I turned onto our street. My rental was at the far end of Prospect Place, past all the famous historic homes, in a light-pink cottage between two more stately Craftsman houses.

"This is our place." I parked in the driveway, a bonus my former apartment hadn't offered.

"Tiny like the town." Scotty pursed his lips. He'd been little more than a baby when my dad had died, and he had zero clue about Mom's herculean efforts to keep our spacious family home. His tone was gratingly entitled. "It looks like the two bigger houses had a baby house."

"Finding a two-bedroom near the high school on a budget didn't yield many options." I sighed, already tired from the prospect of months of these tense conversations. "Besides, this place is cute."

"It's pink," Scotty countered, but he collected his backpack without further objection. I'd managed to furnish the cottage with a mixture of stuff from my apartment, Mom's garage, and a few estate sales. The two small bedrooms were on opposite ends of the house.

Scotty didn't seem interested in lingering in the living area, so I led him back to his room. "This is your room."

"Are those my posters?" He tilted his head.

"Yeah. I put some of your things up." My mom had tearfully boxed up some of Scotty's favorite possessions. "Mom and I thought it would help you feel more at home."

"You need to chill." Scotty flopped on the full-size bed I'd found, which was almost too short for him. "Stop trying so hard when we both know this whole situation bites."

"It doesn't have to." I pushed past my frustration for one last stab at enthusiasm. "I'm excited to spend time together."

"And I'm excited for a nap." He gestured at the doorway until I got the message and left him alone.

Tired of trying to jolly a seventeen-year-old porcupine into a good mood, I decided to gift myself a pre-dinner run. The sun was still out but nowhere near as strong as earlier in the day, and a breeze rolled in from the mountains and river. I was nowhere near as athletic or fast as Scotty, but somewhere along the road to graduating from the fire academy, I'd come to find satisfaction in pounding the pavement.

Out here on the sidewalk, I didn't have to be coordinated. Didn't have to be funny and likable. All I had to do was keep moving forward, my only competition my own pace. Slowly, my stress started to ebb.

"Caleb!" The sound of my name brought all my tension back in a hurry. I slowed to discover Sean, Tony, and one of Eric's teens, John, all out for a jog on the opposite side of the street. Tony naturally looked even better in running shorts and a gray tank than in uniform. The last thing I needed was another reason to ogle him, but all three paused as Sean gestured me over. Sean waited until I'd crossed the street to ask, "Since when do you live on this side of town?"

"I moved because I needed an extra bedroom and a place near the high school for my little brother." Seeing an opportunity for Scotty, I nodded at John. "He plays football like you."

"You don't say." All three sets of eyes widened. They'd all witnessed my flag football humiliation and undoubtedly were envisioning Scotty as a similar hot mess.

"Way, way better than me." I laughed like the memory of landing in a muddy heap with Tony was as pleasant as a sunset. "Scotty was kind of a big deal in Portland."

"Awesome." Sean gave John a pointed look.

Sighing heavily, John shifted his weight from foot to foot. "We've got a team meeting coming up. I'll give Sean the details to give to your bro."

"Thanks." I gave what I hoped was a cheery wave. "I appreciate that. Enjoy your run."

"Eh. We're almost done." Sean wiped the sweat from his forehead with the edge of his T-shirt before jerking a thumb in Tony's direction. "The sergeant here busted our asses."

"Can't let myself go soft." Yet again, he held my gaze a beat too long before glancing away.

"No danger of that," I said without thinking. Everyone laughed, but Sean's eyes narrowed with a clear warning. Great. All I needed now was my acting boss to be suspicious that I might have a crush. Not only did I not need a rep of macking on each new fire station employee, but I also didn't need to run afoul of any fraternization regulations. Rumor had it that two EMTs had recently run into issues while dating. Going forward, I'd need to be on my very best, absolutely-not-flirty behavior.