“Grandma needs a party! We can have cake!” Junior piped up from his spot next to May.

  “Well...”

  “Wyatt would want it,” May said softly, studying her stew. “You know he loved a party as much as you. Let’s get the other kids here, maybe a few of your friends. Fill the house.”

  “Yeah.” His throat tightened at the mention of Wyatt, but May was right. “I’ll help, come over early, help clean, do whatever you need done.”

  “I can order the cake,” May offered. “A nice big sheet cake from that place in Sisters you love, Jenna.”

  “I can tell when I’m outnumbered.” His mom laughed, a more world-weary sound than usual, but welcome nonetheless. “I guess we’re having a party.”

  “Yup. Now what are we cooking?” He kept them on party planning for a while, deciding which of his mom’s favorite party foods to serve, and going over who to invite and what to plan to keep the younger kids busy.

  “We need to invite Lincoln,” his mom said as May took notes for a to-do list.

  “Of course.” May didn’t stop writing, but his mom looked at him like he was supposed to add something.

  “What? Sure. Invite Linc.” It wasn’t like he could protest. The guy had been included in every major family event that they could drag him to for years and years.

  “You need to ask him. I feel bad, asking him to talk you out of going today. Especially with things already...strained. He needs to know there are no hard feelings.”

  He sighed rather than rattle off a retort that maybe she should have thought of that before she texted. “Just call him. You know he loves you. He’ll come if he’s free.”

  It went without saying that Linc had turned down more invitations than he’d accepted in the past year, but pointing that out would bring up all sorts of issues better left unexamined.

  “I will, but still you should ask him. Tomorrow at training. He’ll be less likely to come up with an excuse if you ask him in person.” His mom might be one of the nicest people in the area, but she could be downright commanding when she wanted to be.

  “Okay, okay. Maybe I’ll stop by his place on my way home. That way I’m not blindsiding him at work.” And that way he wouldn’t give him the opportunity for another public argument. He refused to admit he might have any other reason for stopping by Linc’s house. And he wasn’t lying—Linc’s place was on the way back into town, just past Jacob’s parents’ property, and well before the town started. He passed that turnoff every damn day without giving in to temptation. He had no reason to change that now, no reason to go resurrecting feelings better left buried in the past where he stored all his other regrets. He’d deliver his message and be on his way, back to that headspace where every damn mention of Linc didn’t hit him in vulnerable places he needed to protect at all costs.

  * * *

  “Sit down, you greedy mutt.” Still toweling off, Linc stared down Bandit until he plopped his substantial ass on the kitchen floor next to the food bowls. Always calmer but no less eager for dinner, Shadow was already in position, looking eagerly at the large plastic bin where their chow was stored.

  “Fine, fine. You win.” He went ahead and fed them a little early because they’d been good while he’d been gone for the long first day of training. Later on in the summer when long callouts became inevitable, they’d get visits from the teenage twins who lived on the next property over. Linc paid them for help with the dogs and watering the garden when he couldn’t get to it.

  The evening was cool enough that he pulled on sweats after finishing a fast trim with the clippers, still unable to shake his restlessness. It was going to take more than a shower to clear his head after the stress of the day. He’d tried both a weights workout and a long shower, and neither had been enough to banish Jacob from his thoughts. Checking on the seedlings lining the dining table was hardly enough distraction either, but it was April, which meant time to get the hardier plants ready for the cold frame if he wanted to eat come fall.

  He chafed at people who called his gardening a hobby. It was more of a necessity when dealing with unpredictable seasonal income, a habit he’d picked up from his mom, repairing her setup and ensuring that he wasn’t entirely at his dad’s mercy or others’ charity when it came to groceries.

  The sound of tires on gravel had him pausing mid-spritzing, setting aside the water bottle and heading for the front porch, dogs fast at his heels. Despite his usual lack of visitors this late, he wasn’t startled, and indeed, had already resigned himself to who it likely was even before Wyatt’s—Jacob’s—truck came into view.

  His dogs, fickle things with no common sense, both rushed to Jacob even before he was out of the truck. Knowing they weren’t likely to listen, Linc didn’t bother to call them back. And it was impossible not to appreciate the way Jacob crouched low, petting each one in turn, doling out praise. He might well be pissed at Linc, but he didn’t take it out on the dogs.

  “You change your mind about the job?” Not wanting to let Jacob’s behavior with the dogs soften him too much, Linc bypassed all the bullshit and potential hemming and hawing and got right to what he wanted to know.

  “Fuck no.” Jacob shook his head before he straightened. “Mom sent me.”

  Funny how three simple words could make his gut churn, memories of the last time Jacob had been in his driveway bearing news swarming him, making it impossible to step off the porch.

  “What are you doing here?” Only the fact that the dogs had raised a ruckus had brought Linc off the couch, and one look at Jacob’s face had him wishing he’d stayed put, waited for him to give up and leave.

  “Mom sent me.” Jacob’s face, usually so playful, was as somber as Linc had ever seen it.

  “Oh.” Fuck. He’d been expecting that. Didn’t make it any easier. But he’d been expecting it. Best to just get it over with. “There won’t be any trouble. I don’t have to go. Last thing I want is her bothered.”

  “What the hell?” Jacob blinked up at him, eyes red rimmed and lines around his mouth that weren’t there a few days ago. “That’s exactly the sort of crazy talk she sent me here to put a stop to. Said you didn’t answer her texts.”

  “Didn’t know what to say.”

  “How about yes? As in yes, you’ll be there. She wants you to be a pallbearer, needs to know you got the message, that you’re not too injured to help, and that you’ve got a suit.”

  Humbled to his core, Linc sank to the porch steps, surprised when Jacob joined him, further shocked when Jacob threw an arm around him. “Don’t know if I can do that,” he whispered.

  “Because you’re injured?”

  God, it would be so easy to lie to anyone other than Jacob, who always seemed to pull deep truths loose from Linc’s chest. “Because it’s my fault.”

  Nearly nine months later, and he still felt the truth of those words, still the same humility that Jenna and the rest of the Hartman family wanted a damn thing to do with him. The official cause of death had been equipment failure combined with a bad landing—Wyatt had been treed due to high winds, and he’d come in hard, then a connector had broken, sending him plummeting before Garrick and Linc could reach him. Everyone said it was a fluke and part of the risk of doing the job, but Linc couldn’t shake the guilt over not reaching him in time and over possibly missing something when cross-checking Wyatt’s equipment.

  “What does your mom need?” Somehow he got the question out in a normal voice.

  “It’s her birthday next week. Sunday. We’re going to have a party for her. Food. Cake. The usual. And she wants you there.” The porch lights danced off Jacob’s hair as he came to stand in front of Linc on the porch. No way, no how was he letting Jacob in the house.

  “Sunday? I might have plans. I promised to help Ray get in better shape.” Of course that was scheduled for early in the morning, but Jacob didn’t need to know that. But judging from how his eyes narrowed, he saw right through Linc’s pretext anyway.

  “All day? We’re talking late afternoon. You can spare a couple of hours, make her happy. Hell, bring Ray along if you want. She likes his wife and kids. But she seems set on you making an appearance.”

  “I’ll see.” Crossing his arms in front of his chest, he tried to will Jacob back to his truck, errand completed. But Jacob didn’t seem in any hurry, leaning against the porch rail and idly scratching Bandit’s head.

  “Linc. Can’t you set aside how pissed you are at me for an afternoon?”

  He didn’t know how to tell Jacob that it wasn’t him that he was mad at but rather himself, so he just shrugged.

  “People are starting to notice how you never want to show up when I’m around. I swear that’s why she insisted that I be the one to do the asking. And I get it, okay? Everything’s awkward now. But it doesn’t have to be.”

  But it did. He didn’t know how to make it stop, all the snippets of memories that assaulted him every damn time he saw Jacob. And maybe Jacob could forget, but he couldn’t.

  Mouths. Hands. Desperate clutching need. Overwhelming grief.

  “Don’t send me away.”

  “I’ve got you.”

  Regret, sharp and swift.

  The regret and recriminations tinged every replay, to the point that all he could handle were little flashes, and guilt that kept him away from the family. But he owed Jenna.

  “I’ll come.” He forced out the words. Jacob was wrong, of course. There wasn’t an alternative to awkward and stilted, at least not one he’d found.

  “Good.” Jacob’s face softened, a vulnerability in his eyes that wasn’t often there. “We were friends once, right?”

  Fuck. Linc had to swallow hard. He really was an asshole of the first degree. It hadn’t occurred to him that Jacob might have noticed his absence, let alone cared. And certainly not enough to hurt. Jacob was tough as they came. No way could Linc wound him. Except maybe he had.

  “We were,” he allowed, even though that was something of a lie. His traitorous body hadn’t allowed him anything as benign as friendship with Jacob in almost six years, and he wasn’t expecting a truce to make a lick of difference in that regard, but he also hated the idea that he’d hurt Jacob.

  “Would it be that hard to try for, I don’t know, maybe civil? Not avoiding? We’re going to work together all season. It seems like the least we could do is try to get along.”

  “I’ll do better.” Trying might kill him, but he’d walk over glass before he intentionally harmed Jacob. “But don’t ask me to be happy about you joining the crew. It’s a bad idea, and you’re not gonna sway me otherwise.”

  “Fair enough. You not acting like I’m radioactive would be a nice improvement, so thank you.”

  “I’ll try.” Linc couldn’t deny acting like that. Truth was that Jacob was his kryptonite, always had been, and he was but a mortal man. So he’d done what felt like the only sensible thing and given him a wide berth.

  “You’re not going to ask me in, are you?” Jacob shook his head, resignation in his eyes before turning his attention back to the dogs, who were soaking up all the pats and head scratches. “Your owner’s a big scaredy-cat, thinking I’m gonna drag him to the bedroom, relieve him of all that needless virtue.”

  “You tell yourself that.” Linc matched him light tone for light tone, body remembering how good banter with Jacob felt even as his brain continued to churn. And actually, Linc was worried that he would be the one doing the dragging and the corrupting.

  “Anyway, I said my piece. Don’t let Mom down.” Stretching, Jacob stopped playing with the dogs, waving them away.

  “Wouldn’t dream of it.” With any luck and a whole lot of willpower where Jacob was concerned, he never would. “Surprised she’s not madder that I didn’t succeed in talking you out of this notion of yours.”

  “Oh, she saved all that mad for me.” Jacob sounded weary, and Linc remembered what he’d said earlier about no one being proud of him. He wanted to be that person, wanted to tell Jacob how damn proud he was of the man he’d become, but couldn’t get the words past the terror in his heart. And Jacob could tell himself that Linc’s concern was all about Wyatt and Jacob’s mom and their disapproval, but Linc knew the truth—he was scared of something happening to Jacob on a personal level that he didn’t want to examine too closely and that he sure as hell wasn’t ever giving voice to.

  “You worked hard,” he managed. Not quite praise or pride, but an acknowledgment nonetheless.

  “Yeah, I did.” Jacob turned toward the truck. Linc’s mouth opened, about to say who knew what, something without permission from his brain, but then Jacob added, “See you tomorrow.”

  His mouth slammed shut. Fuck. Not only was Jacob as off-limits as they came, but he was now a coworker, whether Linc liked it or not. And that meant that everything—everything—would go unsaid. It was undoubtedly for the best, but he still couldn’t stop the ache in his chest as Jacob drove away, the nearly overwhelming sense of loss.

  Chapter Four

  Damn Linc for getting in Jacob’s head all over again, getting him rattled. Even on his drive to the air base, after a night of fitful sleep following their conversation, he was still antsy. He’d revealed too much, practically begging Linc to be friendly again, go back to how things had used to be. But if he was honest, things hadn’t been good and easy between them in years. There was always this undercurrent of potential, something that could be and yet never was. But the past few months had been the worst of all, feeling Linc’s absence like a scab that refused to fully heal. He’d missed him and hated himself for doing the missing. It made him feel weak, and there was nothing he hated more.

  And still he’d gone to him, asked him to come around again, and not just for Jacob’s mom. Almost like he was one of Linc’s rescue dogs, pathetically grateful for any scrap of attention paid to him. So yeah, damn Linc and his ever-present fucking nobility. No one did guilt quite as well as him. And the worst thing was that it was that same nobleness that made him so damn attractive—he was as loyal and steadfast as they came, solid and dependable, thoroughly incorruptible.

  “Come on, Linc. One drink. What’s the harm, especially if no one knows?” He’d been on this quest ever since Linc took the time to teach him how to drive stick. He’d never been so grateful for learning to drive on his parents’ automatics as those few hours alone with Linc. And maybe he needed to give it up, but he’d seen the heat in Linc’s eyes too many times to let this drop.

  “I’d know. And that’s enough.” Linc didn’t look up from stirring the firepit.

  “I’d rather have fun than sleep alone with my high-and-mighty principles.”

  “You might be old enough to buy your liquor these days, but you’re still a kid. A man’s only as good as his word.” Linc’s words landed squarely as a roundhouse to Jacob’s jaw, enough to have him recoiling, needing to shake it off.

  “Does it ever cross your mind that maybe you gave your word to the wrong guy?” he asked, hating the edge to his voice. Fucking Wyatt. Always getting there first.

  “Nope.” If Linc was lying, Jacob sure as hell couldn’t tell from the set of his jaw or the way he stared straight ahead.

  He tried to take some solace in the fact that Linc had said he’d come to the party, had said he’d do better, because Linc did keep his word. Maybe today wouldn’t be so bad. Stomach more settled, he made a beeline for the free coffee at training, trying not to look around for Linc too much. Above the coffee table was the big board of names of the jumpers with the most jumps under their belts. Wyatt was way up there. Linc too. Jacob wanted his name up there in the worst way. He was going to make this work, no matter what anyone else thought.

  Today’s training would begin with class time in deference to a packed day of preparing the rookies for their first jumps.

  “Quick. Look like we’re friends.” Kelley followed him to the rows of folding chairs, looking far more awake than him with shining eyes and short hair more spiked than the day before.

  “Someone overstepping?” He didn’t envy the harder road the women on crews always had. Not that he’d had the smoothest of rides as an out gay guy, but at least he didn’t usually have creeps hitting on him or questioning whether he could do the work at all.

  “Guy over there implied I won’t be able to do the pack-out, saying 115 pounds might be more than I can handle over that distance. Suggested he give me private pointers.” She rolled her eyes as they took seats together toward the back of the room. “I’d rather not have to tell him no a second time.”

  “Skinny one with the dark hair? That’s Ross. He was a friend of Wyatt’s from way back. You could probably bench-press him if you wanted. I might pay to watch you drop-kick him too.”

  “I know, right? That’s what I’m saying.” Laughing, Kelley gave him a grateful smile. “Later today they’re assigning us to senior crew members as buddy jumpers for the duration of training. Lord, please don’t let them give me the weasel. Word is we’ll probably be paired up with them out in the field too.”

  The smoke jumpers usually operated in small crews of three or four, getting shipped out together to various fires and tasks, working as a unit for much of the season. Like Kelley, he wanted to end up on a good crew, preferably one without drama or assholes.

  “Maybe they’ll give you McKenna.” He named one of the senior women on the crew. “She’s good and she’s been around years. Ditto Pope. But not everyone’s like Ross. Plenty of good people. I can vouch for Linc—Reid—and Ray too. Their buddy Garrick Nelson’s a player, but not obnoxious about it.”

  “Thanks for the heads-up. And I’ll repay the favor—our fellow rookie Jimenez was on the Winema crew with me. Don’t hook up with him—he talks.”

  “Not looking to hook up with anyone.” It wasn’t a total lie—he’d learned his lesson early on about fishing where he worked. Fire crews worked too many long hours together. Some dating around was probably inevitable from the close contact, but it almost always ended messily. But while he had no intention of making a move on anyone else on the crew, he knew himself, knew Linc was different. There had been a moment last night, right as Jacob was about to leave, when Linc had almost wavered. And even knowing it would be beyond stupid career-wise, Jacob still wanted him, had still held his breath when Linc’s mouth had moved, had still known the sting when he’d said nothing.

 

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