Feel the Fire (Hotshots 3)

“Eh. It was okay.” A little smile teased the edges of Luis’s mouth as he fiddled with his keys. “Thanks. This dinner suggestion...it was a good idea.”

“Yeah, it was. One of my best.” Tucker meant the conversation, how good it had felt to lay everything out there, but then their eyes met, and the meaning shifted to something personal and intimate, an expression of how much he’d enjoyed the company and how much he rather desperately wanted to do it again.

Luis held his gaze, not wavering, and when his tongue darted out to lick his lower lip, the harsh kick of arousal almost stole Tucker’s next breath. God, it would be so easy to lean in and—

Honk. Damn it. A car wanted into the empty space where he was standing. And with that, whatever spell had had him on the verge of kissing Luis was broken. They nodded and waved, a hurried goodbye. He wanted to imagine that Luis was as flustered as he was, but Luis probably had hundreds of near-kisses to his name and might not have even noticed Tucker’s deliberation.

Yeah, that was it. He hadn’t noticed. And that was what Tucker told himself the whole drive home. The car the boys shared was parked haphazardly in the drive, and he prepared another lecture about how to share the driveway as he let himself into the house. Not surprisingly, he found the boys with their heads in the fridge.

“Didn’t you eat at Mary Anne’s?”

“Yeah, but asking for seconds might have been rude.” Wade gave him a grin. “And there wasn’t any dessert.”

“Found it!” Walker came up with a carton of the local brand of moose tracks ice cream Tucker had hidden in the back of the freezer. “You want some, Dad? And you’re later than usual.”

“Nah. I stopped for dinner with...a friend from work.” He’d paused way too long trying to decide what to label Luis and stumbled over the rest of his explanation. And damn him for forgetting to text both of them. “That brewery with the short ribs I like so much. And we lingered a bit over dessert, so I think I’m good on sweets.”

“Dessert?” Walker’s mouth quirked. “Lingering?”

“Was this a date?” Ever more direct, Wade’s eyes narrowed as he considered Tucker.

“Date? No, no, I don’t do that,” he blustered as Wade grabbed a pair of bowls for Walker who already had the ice cream scoop. Tucker had to turn away from Wade’s continued speculative gaze. “It was just a friend. Someone I knew a long time ago. That’s all.”

“You forgot to text us where you were,” Walker mused as he scooped the ice cream. “You never do that.”

“And you had dessert.” Wade wasn’t dropping this any more than Walker, apparently, and Tucker groaned and grabbed himself a bowl. Maybe he did need some sugar to survive this conversation.

“Yeah. Are you sure it wasn’t a date?” Walker gave him a small scoop while giving himself and Wade monster portions. He might know Tucker’s ice cream preferences without being asked, but he was wrong here.

“I’m sure.” Tucker was not trying to start something with Luis. That moment when they could have kissed notwithstanding, he knew better. But damn if his stomach didn’t still quiver with the memory of it. He might want, but he wasn’t going to have, and that was what mattered.

“Good.” Walker was surprisingly emphatic, to the point that Tucker had to tilt his head, try to decide if something else was going on with the kid.

“Don’t listen to him.” Wade rolled his eyes and jostled Walker’s shoulder. “He’s thinking that one lovesick dude is enough around here. I’m thinking that it’s past time that you got la—”

“Hey now.” Tucker shook his spoon at Wade. Him meddling in Tucker’s sex life in any way was the last thing any of them needed.

Wade, however, wasn’t deterred, sly smile and impish eyes. “Even Mom thinks that you need—”

“And she’s entitled to that opinion.” Tucker had determined years and years ago to never badmouth or contradict Heidi in front of the boys, but she too was wrong about this. He didn’t need to date. And even Heidi and the endless “don’t be lonely, Tucker” refrain would agree that anything with Luis would be foolish. “But I don’t need or want to date. I’m good. Promise.”

And he was. Two great kids. Roof over their heads. Job he enjoyed. Friends. He didn’t need anything else, but even hours later as he climbed under the covers, a part of him still wanted. Damn it.

Chapter Six

Tucker had been about to kiss him last night. Of that, Luis was sure, and even now as he reviewed fire data, the restless night and a dragging morning behind him, he was still obsessing over what hadn’t happened. And what had—them finally talking everything out, him seeing some more of the man Tucker had become. Strong, standing up to that family of his. While Luis’s teen self had wanted Tucker to be willing to make that choice at seventeen, as an adult Luis understood better what a hard position Tucker had been in as a kid. His super-strict family wouldn’t have taken well to news of Tucker being anything other than straight and destined for ranching life. Asking a kid with few employable skills to break from the life he’d been raised to accept was a big ask, and Luis got that now.