Page 9 of Cocoa

He sat for a moment in his parked SUV, fingers tight on the wheel, and the smell of smoke surrounding him. It clung so badly to everything, even after the gear came off. He wasn’t sure if Lucas would want to see him like this, so tired, sore, and smelly.

Climbing out at last, he walked up and knocked on Lucas’s door. The dark-eyed man opened it right away to a wonderfully domestic scene of Ritz lounging paws up on the rug and a steamy cup of cocoa on the coffee table next to a laptop.

“Hey, come on in.” Lucas stepped back and waved him into the small space. “Can I get you cocoa or water or anything?”

Something in Ryder’s chest twinged a little at the simple kindness. He was used to heading home alone and taking care of himself. “Cocoa would be great if it’s not too much trouble.”

At the sound of his voice, Ritz scrambled up and bounded over, tail wagging.

“Hey, Ritzy.” He scrubbed the dog’s ruff and jaw, taking comfort in the unconditional love pouring out of his furry friend. “Did you have a good time with Lucas?”

The man in question returned in a couple of minutes with a steaming mug that smelled like heaven. “You look like hell,” he said. “Rough one?”

Ryder shrugged. “Not really. The man should recover fine. His house… not so much.” He headed for the couch, but before he could sit down all the way, he lurched back upright again. “Shit. I forgot. I came straight from the station. I’m all dirty.”

Lucas’s gaze trailed down to his socked feet and back up again, leaving trails of warmth in its wake. “You can take a shower. I have some clothes that might fit you.”

He opened his mouth to protest and insist that he could just collect Ritz and get out of Lucas’s hair, which was loose and curling over his shoulders beautifully. The words didn’t come. The truth was that a hot shower and some time relaxing there sounded like heaven. “Thanks.”

The bathroom had a combo shower and tub he fit in well enough, and Lucas handed him a fresh towel, a pair of gray sweatpants, and a faded green t-shirt. He scrubbed off quickly, feeling a lot more relaxed than he usually did after a call. Maybe it was the scent of Lucas’s body wash or the knowledge that the man himself waited for Ryder out on the little couch.

The pants were more like leggings over his thick thighs, but he managed to pull them on. At least Lucas wasn’t inches shorter than he was. The t-shirt stretched over his shoulders and chest. He huffed out a laugh as he scanned his body. Hopefully Lucas would find it hot instead of ridiculous. By the look in his eyes when Ryder walked toward him and settled on the couch, it was a mixture of both.

“Sorry, these were the biggest clothes I could find that were clean.” He hid his grin in his mug of cocoa before settling back against the cushions.

“It beats wearing the smoke-soaked stuff.” He smirked and rubbed the back of his neck. “I might have to stay until after dark, though, so no one sees me leaving in these.”

Lucas’s next smile was open and beautiful. “That’s perfectly fine with me.”

“Hungry?”

They pooled their cash and settled on some chicken and broccoli and dumplings from the local Chinese takeout. Half an hour later, Ryder sat on the floor, legs splayed out in front of him, with Ritz at his side and a bowl in one hand.

Lucas sat cross-legged on the other end of the coffee table. “Do you ever think about doing something else?” The question appeared in the comfortable silence between them.

Ryder wrinkled his brow. “Other than what? You mean being an EMT?”

He nodded before shoving another dumpling into his mouth.

“Sometimes. When it gets heavy, but then I remind myself that I’m kinda built to carry heavy stuff.” He flashed a grin and flexed an arm playfully. The joke fell a little flat even as he said it. Sure, he had muscles, but physical strength wasn’t the only type you needed to be an EMT. The day’s call wasn’t bad. In fact, it was what he and Eva would call an easy one. He had the energy to joke about it, so he let it go. “I like helping people.”

Lucas smiled, and some unaccustomed warmth inside Ryder sparked to life. “My family doesn’t approve of photography.” At Ryder’s wide-eyed stare, he chuckled. “Not that they think it’s morally wrong or anything. They wanted something safer for me. A nice, comfortable job.”

With a dramatic sneer and huff, Ryder swallowed down another bite of broccoli. “Sitting behind a desk? Waiting out a few decades for a 401k and carpal tunnel syndrome? No thanks.”

“You get it.” Lucas poked at the last piece of chicken in his bowl. “It still stings sometimes, knowing that they never will.”

Ryder set his bowl on the table and ran a hand through Ritz’s fur. He wanted to reach out to comfort Lucas somehow… or maybe just to get his hands on the man. Tearing his gaze away from the slow perusal of the slender body behind the oldt-shirt, he watched the dog sleep for a moment. “Following your passion’s important. Anyone would be proud of what you’re doing, especially how you’re helping out the shelter and all. That’s important.”

Their eyes met across the room, and the ache to close the gap grew stronger. Just when Ryder was about to climb over Ritz to find out what Lucas’s lips felt like, the dark-haired man looked away. “Thanks,” he said.

Whatever tender moment they’d shared disappeared into the normal bother of cleaning up, grabbing the bag with Ryder’s smoky uniform in it, and packing Ritz’s stuff up for the drive home. The good feeling lingered, though, and he couldn’t shake the smile all the way home.

It wasn’t supposed to feel like that. He didn’t want more than a casual thing, right? Lucas made friendship so easy, though, and Ryder couldn’t deny the guy turned him on. He muttered a curse as he plodded inside, locked the door, and headed straight to bed.

***

The shelter was organized chaos. Lucas stood near the back door, his camera bag slung across his body, and a twisted smile on his lips. Greta and a couple of volunteers clung to leashes with excited dogs on the other ends. A staging area stood nearby with a few covered benches and a picnic blanket on the ground.

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