Page 2 of Tameron

I put everything on the table, the chicken satay skewers last. “Oh, that looks amazing,” Heath said, as always quick to say something positive.

“On a scale of one to my ass is on fire, how hot will this be going in and coming out?” Creek asked.

“About a four. I kept it decent tonight.”

Bean mumbled something. “What was that?” I asked.

He had the decency to look a little guilty. “I said thank Jesus. No offense, but my ass still hurts from that curry you made last week.”

“You’re supposed to eat it, not stuff it in your ass,” I said.

“Our gym burned down again,” Nash said, changing the topic abruptly but rather effectively.

“What?” Creek asked. “The one on Howell Street?”

“Yeah. My station got the call this morning and spent hours getting it under control. It looks like an electrical fire that started in the break room. Probably a coffee maker or something.”

Oh, that explained all the sirens I’d heard that morning while taking my yoga class. They had been too loud even for me to ignore.

“Did anyone get hurt?” Bean asked.

Nash shook his head. “The building was up to code, so they had smoke detectors and sprinklers. Everyone got out safely. But the building is a total loss, which sucks because…”

I couldn’t make out the last part of his sentence because he turned his head away. “Because why?”

“Sorry. Because we really liked training there. It was close to our station and they offered us a great deal.”

I quickly chewed and swallowed. “Come to my gym. Well, it’s not mine, but the one I go to for my yoga classes. It’s only a couple of blocks away, so close enough, and it’s great. Very welcoming to all kinds of people.”

Nash scratched his chin. “That’s definitely an option. Do you think it’s big enough to accommodate our group?”

“I don’t see why not. They have a rather large cardio room, plus a massive room with all the machines and weight-training equipment. I mean, I never use them, but I always see some available.”

“Because you prefer yoga over weight training,” Creek said, his tone indicating his opinion.

“Listen, flamingo,” I fired back, “if you did a little more yoga, you wouldn’t fall on your ass so many times.”

Heath snorted, then hid his laugh behind his hand when Creek shot him a look. “You’re on his side now?” Creek asked, looking offended.

Heath shrugged. “He’s not wrong. You did fall on your ass last week.”

“Because I didn’t realize my prosthetic foot had gotten stuck.”

“Excuses, excuses,” I sing-songed. “Yoga is excellent for developing better balance, you know. It’s really helped my equilibrium.”

“Because you’re training with seniors. The average age in that class is, like, eighty or something,” Creek shot back.

Nash’s eyes narrowed. “Do I need to smash your heads together?”

“No, Top,” Creek and I answered at the same time, agreeing with a look to consider the matter settled.

“I’ll talk to Dayton, see what he thinks,” Nash said. I couldn’t keep the automatic reaction to hearing that name off my face, and it didn’t escape Nash’s attention. He let out a deep sigh. “You do realize that if we start training at your gym, you’re gonna run into him, right?”

“Who?” Bean asked, oblivious as usual.

“Dayton,” Jarek helpfully supplied, always willing to summarize or explain when Bean’s memory failed him. “He’s Nash’s firefighter friend.”

“Technically, he’s the battalion chief, but yeah. Him,” Nash said. “And for some reason, Tameron hates him.”

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