Page 82 of Burning for Alexander
“Come shower with me,” I said. “And then you’re going right to sleep. You look like hell.”
“I need to tell you about this weekend?—”
“And you will. Later. Right now, you need to clean up and catch up on some zzz’s.”
It turned out Judd wasn’t the only one who wanted to give expert-level care. Part of me wanted nothing more than to protect and soothe the bear of a man.
And that wasn’t the only surprising revelation of the evening. Because for the ten minutes it took us to shower, brush our teeth, and get back in bed, Judd Kincaid—my grumpy, standoffish fire chief—was clingy.
24
KINCAID
DrunkenPoet:BBQ chicken or pork for pizza? Testing ideas for my sister’s birthday dinner.
IndexEcho:[No response]
DrunkenPoet:Index, you there? Get caught up on a long shift?
IndexEcho:[No response]
_____________________
When I wokeup in Alex’s bed, he wasn’t there. Since there was a giant tractor-trailer in the back lot, I assumed he was getting an early morning delivery of some kind.
Unfortunately, Tavowasthere, and I surprised him.
“Dios mio!” he yelped, jumping back and slapping a hand over his heart. “Chief Kincaid? What are you doing here?”
I’d been all ballsy last night, saying if we couldkeep Tavo’s secret, he could keep ours, but now in the bright light of morning, I didn’t feel nearly as in control.
In fact, everything in my life felt wildly out of control right about now.
“Uh, Alex said I could test his smoke detector,” I said stupidly.
Tavo looked unsure. “Okay?”
I stared at him. He stared back. Finally, he spoke. “Need me to show you where it is?”
I nodded.
He pointed up.
Sure enough, it was exactly where you would expect it to be. I reached up and pressed the Test button. It made a god-awful chirp that left a ringing in my ears despite the fact that I’d heard that sound hundreds of thousands of times.
“Works great,” I mumbled before getting the hell out of there.
I found my vehicle two streets over where I’d parked it and took off for the station house. When I arrived, things were already hopping. Thankfully, work stayed busy for the first half of the day, and by the time it slowed down, I’d chilled out a little.
I could figure this out. I’d think of a way to bring up our online history with Alex, we’d talk it through, and then we’d get past it. No problem.
My quasi-chill only lasted until I was called to the corporate office of Untrace for another small incident.
Once again, Will Wascomb had accidentally set his desk on fire.
“To be fair,” Hazel Marian said, staring at the twice-burned desk, “I did say he could still use a mug warmer at his desk.”
“Did you advise him to stop using paper at his desk while he used it?” I asked.
