Page 35 of Burning for Alexander
I shook my head just as my ears picked out the sound of Alex’s laughter nearby. “I wanted to get away from big cities. And the best aviation jobs are at the big airports.” It wasn’t the whole truth, but it was true enough.
We talked about ARFF for a little while longer. It turned out, his brother was a commercial airline pilot. Eventually, the subject changed.
“You an outdoorsman?” he asked, smiling enough to pop a dimple at me. “I’d be happy to show you some of the great trails around here, if you’re into hiking.”
Before I could answer him, I caught sight of Alex Marianescorting a much older woman to a seat by the fire. Her arm was in his, and his hand covered hers. He leaned in and grinned at her, saying something that made her cackle.
“Sorry, I… yeah. I’d like that,” I said. “Thanks.”
“That’s Alex Marian,” Monroe said, catching me staring. “And his great-great-aunt Tilly. She’s a wildcat with a barbed tongue, that one. Approach with caution.” His chuckle was warm and easy.
“There seem to be a million Marians around here,” I commented.
“No shit. They’re everywhere. Seem to have bought up the whole town, not that I’m complaining.”
“How do you mean?”
He shrugged. The golden light from the fire caught a few strands of hair that had come loose from his casual ponytail. “They helped Trace start SERA. Donated the land and invested seed money. They’re rich as fuck. You know Jude Marian, who was a country singer like a million years ago?”
“Shit,” I said, as I put two and two together. “That’s his family?”
Monroe nodded. “Yeah, and I think they were rich before that. Jude’s parents bought the old lodge and all this land. Gave parcels to each of the kids and grandkids. Alex’s dad married some rich guy who owned a vineyard. Another one of them started a software company here. She’s cool, though. Hazel Marian. She and her wife, Avery, do a lot of charity shit in town. It’s been good for Legacy, you know? ’Cause they’re all dripping in money.”
It was the reminder I needed that Alex Marian wasn’t struggling financially the way he implied. He didn’t need to stand out in the summer sun and sell burgers to pay for fire safety upgrades on his historic building.
His attempt to get sympathy by pretending to be a regular guy was disappointing. And, yeah, maybe I shouldn’t trust the gossipof a random guy at a party, but then again, what twenty-something could afford to buy his own restaurant?
None of it mattered, but the fact that I couldn’t get it out of my head did.
“Tell me more aboutyou, Monroe,” I said, deciding to forget Alex Marian and have a good time, as Max had encouraged me to. Monroe seemed closer to my own age. “Where are you from, originally?”
It turned out, he’d been a Marine aviator who’d spent time flying casualty evacuations at Al Asad, so we had plenty to talk about. As the night wore on, I began to relax and enjoy myself. I was even contemplating inviting Monroe back to my place for the night when Alex walked up.
“Hey, can I talk to you for a minute?”
One look at him up close in the firelight, and all my plans for a quick fuck with Monroe went out the window. With that image in my head, there was no way I was getting hard for anyone else tonight. “About what?”
Monroe turned his flirty grin on Alex. “Hey, I’ve heard a lot about you, but we haven’t actually met yet. I’m Monroe Travers.”
Alex turned on the afterburners of his megawatt smile. His face was flushed and his eyes almost glassy. How much alcohol had he consumed? “Hey. My sister told me about you. I’m Alex. I hear you’re amazing on the stick. Rescued my cousin Tommy when he was stuck up on the pass.”
What the actual fuck? Was he flirting? With my hookup?
Too much alcohol.
“You needed to talk to me?” I reminded him.
Alex’s smile calmed a bit. “Yeah. If Monroe doesn’t mind me stealing you for a minute.”
“As long as you bring him back,” Monroe said with a wink. “And you’re welcome to stick around and hang with us. The more, the merrier, I say.”
Alex’s smile came back at full wattage. “Sounds like more than I can handle, but thanks.”
His words surprised me. They were incongruous with the flirty playboy I’d seen in Amsterdam. Or maybe they weren’t. Maybe he was a one-man guy but just wanted the best man available. Whatever that meant.
We stepped away from the light and warmth of the bonfire into the dark, cool night.
“What do you need?” I asked.
