I know more of him too. I know how he approaches sex and women and experimentation.
It’s like we’re walking the tightrope of friendship, balancing precariously and tipping ever closer to the edge.
But as I pass the firehouse, my heart sinks. The truck is gone, and its absence reveals to me how badly I wanted to see him. I let out a long exhale that’s tinged with more disappointment than I expected. Plus, he has a twenty-four-hour shift today, so there won’t be any experiments tonight. But we’re seeing each other tomorrow, and I’m debating whether I want to practice biting, spanking, or stripping, or if we can work in that elevator arms-in-the-air agenda item.
Later in the day, my phone pings with a text.
Gabe: Hey! Wild Care says Hedwig is recuperating nicely.
I punch the air in triumph. His note makes me happy in a whole new way. For the owl and also, I’m realizing, for us. Because we’re normal. We can be owl-rescuers, and bowling buddies, and pizza friends, and coach and sex-thlete, and just . . . well, friends.
Good friends.
Arden: Yay! Also, you checked on Hedwig? I love that.
Gabe: Of course. I wanted an update, and I knew you’d want to know as well. So I checked on our owl.
Arden: Can I still adopt him? There’s a high shelf in my store that I know he’d love.
Gabe: I’m sure Henry and Clare would LOVE his company.
Arden: Admit it. A bookstore owl would be so cool.
Gabe: Yes, it would be. But Hedwig belongs in the wild. Speaking of shelves, how’s that one that you were worried was a little loose? Need me to take a look at it?
My heart beats a little faster from his offer, his willingness to help me. I head over to the shelf in question, rapping on it.
Arden: I checked it. All good!
Gabe: You know where to find me if you need anything.
Arden: Same to you. :)
This man does so much for me, and I only wish I could do something special for him. That afternoon, as I help a customer find an old Dashiell Hammett novel, I know precisely what that is.
25
Gabe
“And that’s some of what we do in an average day. Now, I’m wondering”—I tap my chin, surveying the eager crowd—“is there any chance any of you have any questions? I know it’d be pretty unusual for a first-grader to have questions. But you all should feel free to hit me up if you do.”
A dozen little hands shoot in the air, and there’s laughter from the grown-ups too. I spend the next twenty minutes answering questions here at the fire station. Most of the questions—surprise, surprise—involve the truck and the truck. Also, the truck.
When the questions ebb, I drop plastic fireman hats on the kids’ heads and thank them for coming. The camp counselor also thanks me.
As the kids wander down the street back to the community center, Shaw emerges from the firehouse, gesturing to the troop. “Over-under on how many you scared away from the fire service on account of being so ugly?”
I screw up the corner of my lips as if I’m considering his question. “Hmm . . . I’d say at least a half dozen. But that still makes you the leader, since you scare them all off when you give the demos.”
He runs a hand over his jaw. “Please. I’m like the goddamn superhero of every little aspiring firefighter in the country. They all want to be me when they grow up.”
I park my hands on my hips. “Is that so? Do the kids have a secret shrine to you somewhere at their school?”
“Of course they do.” He narrows his eyes. “So do the teachers, right in the teachers’ lounge. They all have pictures of me from the fireman calendar on every wall.”
“In your dreams.”
“Why do you think they’re all asking me to do demos? They love me and my scar.”
I crack up. “You have such a rich fantasy life.”
He grabs the hem of his shirt and shakes his hips, pretending to dance. “You’re just jealous, Harrison. Admit it. I’ve got it going on.” Lifting the shirt, he drags a hand over the faded scar that cuts across his hip, the mark that he definitely doesn’t show at demos to kids here or in schools.
“Because you moonlight as a stripping fireman?”
Even though he does nothing of the sort, he mimes tossing out dollar bills. “I make it rain. Look at my hips. They don’t lie.” He shakes them as if he’s a master dancer.
“What the hell do you actually do in your spare time?”
He pretends to zip his lips.
I shake my head. “Buddy, I am so sorry.”
“What are you sorry for?”
“That you suffer from so many delusions.”
He laughs, then his expression turns serious, his zany side slinking away. “Hey, did you hear about Charlie?”
“Yeah. I’m going to miss him.” Charlie is moving back to Florida.
“Says he can’t afford living here anymore. That’s the tough part of being in California. This place is crazy expensive.”
“It sure as hell is.” I point from him to me. “And we are so damn lucky that we can do what we do, and not have to worry about where every cent is coming from or going to.”
“That’s the truth.” Shaw is some kind of wizard financially and set himself up with several well-timed stock trades over the years so he wouldn’t have to make tough choices and he wouldn’t have to leave his hometown. He made enough wise investments that he was able to pursue this career and live in a town with ridiculous home prices at the same time. “I don’t know that I can live someplace else. I love my sister, and I love my family too much.”
I admire that about Shaw—he’s a family man. But when he mentions his sister, I don’t think of Perri. I think of another person, one who’s close with Perri.
Arden.
The woman I can’t stop thinking about.
The woman who’s uncovering a brazen new confidence about her wants and wishes.
She’s speaking her mind, voicing her desires, and it’s hot as hell.
And while I don’t have any secret wants or wishes to share with the guys, it wouldn’t be such a bad idea, either, to let the boys at work know I give a shit about them. I spend much of my time messing with them, as they do with me. But moments like this matter too. The honest ones. Because the fact is, I depend on them every day. I rely on Shaw to have my back, and he does the same with me.
“Hey, Shaw?”
He gives a quizzical lift of his brow. “Yeah?”
“You’re a good guy. I’m glad we’re on the same team.”
He shoots me a you have to be kidding me look. “Have you gone all soft and fuzzy inside?”
I decide to own it. “Yeah, I have in this second. I’m going to miss Charlie when he leaves. Practically felt like he worked right here with us.”
“He pretty much did.”
“And you know what? I’d miss you if you left too, so I’d really like it if you’d stick around.”
He smiles, and it’s a genuine one. “You’re stuck with me, Harrison. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Let’s keep it that way. Let’s keep doing this—looking out for each other.”
He offers a fist for knocking. “Sounds like a deal.”
Shoes click behind me, and Shaw turns toward the sound then wiggles his eyebrows at me. “I believe you have a visitor.”
I spin around, and I try to hide the smile, but it’s no use. I can’t help but grin when I see Arden. Lovely and gorgeous, bright and brainy Arden walking my way.
“Jesus Christ, Casanova. Just ask her out once and for all,” Shaw says in a low voice.
“All in due time.” And I will. As soon as we’re done with her experiment. Which means the time will be sooner rather than later.
When she reaches us, she says hi to both Shaw and me, and I do my damnedest to rein in a ridiculous grin because, hell, am I ever happy to see her.
26
Gabe
Shaw tips his chin at the woman in front of us. “Hey, Arden. Gabe and I had a little bonding session. Did you know he’s all soft and sweet inside?”
Arden smiles. “Is that so?”
Shaw punches my stomach. “He’s a total teddy bear. He was telling me that I’m his best friend.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re such a dick. I’ll go back to telling you that you’re a dick. Now get out of here, you dick.”
“Nope. I’m not a dick. You love me. You fucking love me.”
“I love it when you leave. See you, man.”
He salutes us. “I’ll let you two lovebirds catch up.”
Arden raises an eyebrow as he heads back into the station. “Why did he say ‘lovebirds’?”
“I cannot account for anything that knucklehead does.” I hope that little white lie does the trick.
She exhales as if she’s erasing Shaw from her head. “Dashiell Hammett. I know what your grandpa was talking about with the schnauzer.”
She shows me a paperback—The Thin Man by Dashiell Hammett.
I give her a questioning look.
Her face brightens more. “The two married detectives have a dog. A female schnauzer named Asta. In the movie, the dog was changed to a male wire fox terrier. You said your pops liked hard-boiled detective books.” Her smile radiates as she keeps going. “I don’t think he was misremembering his collies. I think he was talking about this book when he was telling you about a female schnauzer. He was saying he wanted the female schnauzer because he didn’t like that the dog had been changed from the book. That’s what he was meaning.”
The cogs turn in my head, clicking into place. A sense of wonder bordering on awe spreads through me as she solves the puzzle of his strange dog comments that weren’t so strange after all. “That was it. Holy smokes. I think you’re right.”
Smiling, she hands the paperback to me. “It’s a gift for him. From me to him.”
My heart kicks around in my chest. I want to tell her that this detective work makes me fall a little more for her, because this means so damn much to me. I don’t say those words exactly. Instead, I tell her in a way that shows how much she matters. “Would you like to come with me tomorrow and give it to him yourself?”