Page 19 of Ignite

“Or—“ he encouraged.

“Or what?”

“You were thinking, just not about the road.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Is that code for,Ethan, please take me into town and buy me a real drink so I can give you my sob story?“ His fingers laced around mine.

Had we broken through the friends’ zone? Those damn butterflies were back. “No, it’s code for,Ethan, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“What’s his name?” This time, he stopped me from reclaiming my fingers, or from pressing them to his lips. “Rylee? Talk to me. What’s his name?”

“Why do you think it had to be a guy?” I shook my hand free before backing away, pretending to look for my bag and keys. Guilt was only one of my swirling emotions and I knew we had to have this conversation at some point. But I needed time to process. Ethan no longer looked at me in the same dismissive way he had when he first walked into my workshop, and I needed time to be comfortable with the start of something new, or not. I needed to know how I felt about whatever this could be with Ethan before I talked about Darin. Until then, playing innocent had to work.

“Because you didn’t deny you were busy thinking about something other than the road. Your business is obviously successful—I mean, everyone who knows about my ute told me to come here.”

“This town looks after its own.”

He chuckled, “I’m getting that message, loud and clear.”

“People here are like family. We all help out, and volunteer.” I decided to try and help Reece out and give Ethan some soft encouragement to join the RFS.

“Oh, no you don’t.” He waggled his bottle at me. “I know what you are trying to do, and Reece beat you to it.”

“They are a great group of guys, and most of them are on your team.”

“No.”

“Why not?” I liked how we’d already gotten to speaking in shorthand although I didn’t like the firm tone in his voice.

“I like Meringa. I’ll coach the team, help out anyone at the gym and even blow a major part of my salary on shouting my team drinks at the pub.” The smile was still there, but the warmth in his eyes had disappeared. “But the town is gonna have to learn to forgive me for not signing up for surf lifesaving or bushfire fighting.”

“You’re not joining the RFS?”

There. His instant look of disgust at the idea of volunteering gave me the perfect excuse to not get involved. Not to care. Not to get invested in him as a man.

Ethan Cooper. He could now be pigeonholed as nothing more than a self-centered, obnoxious, asshole. My father had given his life to save people too self-absorbed and lazy to do basic home maintenance to fireproof their properties, and who wouldn’t lift a finger for the community.

People like Ethan.

“Not my scene.” He shook away the question as readily as he’d brush away a fly.

Chapter 7

Not Negotiable

“It’snotenoughtoexpect the volunteers to come knocking on your door when the fire comes through. Reece Sinclair, the captain of the Rural Fire Service has one, non-negotiable message for the residents of Meringa. Be prepared. Clear your gutters and fire trails. Have your bushfire plan ready and make sure your family knows when you’ll leave, where you’ll go, and how you’ll get there. Because when the fire comes through, do you want our brave heroes fighting the flames or knocking on doors? In other news …”

Rylee

I fought to ignore bittersweet memories as I helped Ethan set up and position his furniture inside the townhouse. An old bed frame, television cabinet—I couldn’t think of anyone else who’d use them anymore—and outdoor collapsible table and chairs. Army logistics would have been proud of how much Ethan had dismantled before cramming into the back of his ute. Definitely more than I would have tried.

“Thanks. When will I get news about the ute?” Since I’d closed him down after the conversation about the RFS, Ethan had matched my professionalism. Occasionally, he threw me a confused look that I met with a blank stare.

“Like I said, it will be my top priority.” I enunciated each vowel and held my face as close to being dispassionately professional as I could. “When do you need it?”

“It’s my only car.” His retort started off bitter before moving to a tentative tease, “we don’t all have a spare for when we’ve hit someone.”

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