Chapter Two
“Where’s this coffee you promised?” There was plenty else Luis wanted to say to Tucker, but they’d passed several other coworkers on the walk to the break room alone, and now here they were standing, staring at each other again while some women chatted at a table and two older men helped themselves to the large white sheet cake on the table at the rear of the room.
“Over here.” Tucker led the way to a large industrial pot, same brand and size as Luis’s office back in California. Probably same low-quality coffee, but his French press and bag of small-batch dark roast coffee was still in the car, waiting for him to be assigned a desk. Preferably far, far away from wherever Tucker’s working space was.
“Thanks.” He accepted the ceramic mug Tucker handed him, a dark green number with a smiling elk in a hunter’s cap and plaid shirt on it. Powdered creamer had zero appeal, so he resigned himself to drinking the weak brew black.
“No sugar?” Tucker raised an eyebrow, like he knew anything about Luis and his dietary preferences these days. Oh, he still had a sweet tooth, but he was way more sane about it than he’d been at fifteen making weird soda combos at the convenience store. A lot of that had to do with losing his dad, but he wasn’t about to get that personal with Tucker.
“Nope.” He might be coming off as rather curt, but he couldn’t seem to chase the anger from his tone. It wasn’t really anger at Tucker though. He’d made his peace with the past years ago, but this tension was more of the same frustration he’d had ever since Rosalind handed him this assignment. He didn’t want to deal with old hurts and old memories and old guilt, didn’t want to have to interact with Tucker, and was mainly mad at himself for how much he was letting all this affect him.
“Ah.” After pouring himself a cup, Tucker doctored it up with plenty of creamer and sweetener. Maybe some things didn’t change, even if it seemed like damn near everything else had. Tucker at sixteen had had a habit of helping himself to the dregs in his parents’ coffeepot, but more milk than coffee in his cup. He’d been a flagpole—tall and skinny with a long neck and lots of brown hair. He’d played running back on the football team that year, and it was entirely possible his gear had weighed more than him. And he’d been more cute than hot—pale skin, freckles across his nose, earnest eyes.
This Tucker, the one in front of him, was ruggedly handsome with a chiseled face that had clearly spent time in the sun as squint lines had started to form around his eyes. Broad shoulders and biceps more suited for tackling than darting between defenders like he’d made a name for himself doing. And most startling, he was actually shorter than Luis. Only an inch or two, but still this was the kid who’d come into his height early while Luis had waited patiently for his growth spurt to finally arrive.
“So...about that tour?” There was only so long Luis could stand in one place, trying to dodge bullets of old memories along with the disconcerting present knowledge of how damn attractive Tucker had turned out to be.
“Right.” Tucker blinked like he too had been deep in memory land. “I take it you’re going to skip the cake for now?”
“Yeah.” Luis didn’t want to be rude, but cake this early in the morning was far from appetizing to him, especially since he’d skipped having an actual breakfast. He’d been too worried about making sure Blaze was settled and then finding the forest service office.
As he gave Luis a tour of the one-story building, Tucker pointed out water coolers and supply closets and introduced the reception and administrative support staff as they made their way through the office, which was a mix of open workspaces, cubes, and narrow hallways leading to small offices and conference rooms.
“This the new guy?” A guy with a broad build and biceps even bigger than Tucker’s, who was in a wheelchair, stopped them as they passed his cube. His hearty smile and easy demeanor said he was happy for the interruption.
“Garrick, this is Luis Rivera. He’s from the Angeles Forest region. He’s a fire behavior specialist.” Tucker made the introductions as handshakes were exchanged. “Luis, Garrick is one of our more experienced dispatchers. Former smoke jumper. He’s gonna be a hell of a burn boss soon. Been working his way into more management and oversight this year.”
Tucker’s tone had a defiant edge, an underlying message that they didn’t truly need Luis and his expertise. Whatever. Luis wasn’t going to stand in the way of Tucker’s friend advancing in the ranks, but he also wasn’t here for petty power struggles either. He was damn good at what he did, and they’d summoned him for a reason.