Page 40 of Wildfire
"Why do I feel like I just interrupted something?"
"I was just starting dinner, Zoe. Would you care for something to drink?" Cole walks into the kitchen and opens the fridge. "I can make you something before I rinse in the shower."
"Uh, water is good." She shoots me a look that could sear me like a slab of meat.
He grabs a glass, fills it with ice and water, and hands it to her. Then he mumbles, "gonna take a quick shower."
"You know what? Me too." I hurry out the door to rinse the lake off and clear my mind.
Chapter Nineteen: Cole
The shower can't wash away the war inside me. There isn't any path forward that doesn't end in me having regrets, so I wash up and decide to steal up. Close my heart off to Renée. She's only here a few more days and there's a lot to do to help out around town to set up for the festival. I can drown myself in that and in trying to find the person responsible for those fires, and then she'll be gone.
This isn't her fault. I keep reminding myself of that as I towel off and get dressed to return to the kitchen. She told me as soon as she met me that she was leaving, but damn if her fiery spirit didn't worm itself into my being.
When I return, Zoe is sitting alone on the couch, staring out the big window facing the water.
"Where's Renée?"
"She wanted a shower too. I'm guessing something happened out on the lake?"
I grunt and pull some food out of the fridge. "Hamburgers?"
"Sounds perfect. Should I…?"
"Why don't you see what's keeping her?" I want to be alone with my thoughts for a few more moments.
"You know, we can go into town and grab some take-out if you don't feel like cooking."
"Thanks, Zoe. That sounds perfect." I shove the food back in the fridge and pull out my wallet. "Can you grab some burgers from Sam's Grill?"
"Don't worry about it. On us."
She puts her glass in the sink and races out of the house. I guess I'm not doing a very good job of stealing away my feelings. I just scared an innocent bystander away.
I turn on some music and lay back on the couch. I stare at the ceiling and listen to the wailing sounds of some of my favorite nineties grunge bands my parents introduced me to. These guys were just as confused about love as I am, but they had loud guitars to wail on to deal with their pain. What do I have? There is nothing I can do to get her out of my mind until she is gone, so I pull out my whittling tools. I am going to take out my frustration on wood.
About an hour later, I heard a knock on the door. I answer and see Renée standing on my stoop with a greasy-looking sack and a tall drink, condensation collecting on the sides.
Her eyes are wide like she is afraid of what I will do.
"Special delivery. I hope you like chocolate shakes."
"My favorite."
I can't close myself off to her. I can't feel anything toward her except longing. And that isn't her responsibility. It is mine. "Did you already eat?"
"Yeah. We were so hungry we ate in the car on the drive back."
"It's only seven minutes away."
"Like I said."
I shake my head and lean against the door frame. "Listen, Renée, we don't have to talk about it. We don't have to do anything. I've got a lot to do this week, and you're leaving soon. Let's just keep enjoying each other's company. Deal?"
Her eyes drop down to the ground, and she studies her feet momentarily. Then she leans forward and plants a kiss on my cheek. "Thanks, Chief."
I watch her walk back to the apartment and close herself inside.
