Home > Up In Flames(13)

Up In Flames(13)
Author: Nicole Williams

Cole paused and turned to face me. “Because I like being able to make you whisper,” he said, examining my mouth like it was something he wanted to taste. “Even if it isn’t in the way I’d prefer to.”

I might have been inexperienced and a prude-by-circumstance, but I didn’t need to have slept with someone to know that look on Cole’s face. The longer I looked at him, the more uncomfortable I became. The more uncomfortable I became, the more confident he became. When I was sure I was either going to slap him or kiss him, he spun around.

“You want something to drink?” he asked as he pulled the fridge door open.

From an intimacy that made me blush one moment to a casual question the next . . . I couldn’t keep up with him.

Although I enjoyed the challenge.

“What do you have?” I came up behind him and peered inside.

Beer, beer, and beer. And an almost empty container of orange juice.

“I’ll have some water,” I said as Cole shuffled through the bottles.

“Yeah, me too.” Ending his search, he shut the fridge door and wandered over to the sink.

“You can have a beer around me, you know. I’m not that straight-laced,” I said, watching Cole fill two plastic cups from the tap. Even performing something as everyday as filling a cup of water, he intrigued me.

“I don’t really drink anymore.” Turning the water off, Cole handed me a glass.

“Why not?” In addition to being intriguing, Cole had perfected the art of surprising me.

“Because I’m that guy who doesn’t do moderation too well,” he said, chugging his entire glass of water. “The last time I had something to drink, the cops were en route when my buddies managed to wrestle me out of that bar.”

“How long ago was that?” I asked and took a sip of my water.

“Right before I became a smokejumper three summers ago.”

“Why did you become a smokejumper?” I looked around the dark room. It wasn’t a glamorous life, nor did it pay all that well. It was dangerous, the hours were long at the height of fire season, and it made keeping a long-term relationship tough.

With all of these supposed downsides to the job, I’d never met a single smokejumper who didn’t absolutely love his or her job. Cole was no exception.

“My grandma raised me and a couple of my cousins,” he said. “My family was something of a dysfunctional mess, but Grandma took care of the responsibilities her daughters wouldn’t.” Cole had caught me, yet again, off guard. I hadn’t arrived at any conclusions about his past, but I hadn’t expected him to be so open about it over a glass of water in a dark kitchen. “My oldest cousin, Tommy, became a smokejumper a couple years out of high school. He loved the job and told me when and if I was ever ready for a change, I should give it a shot.”

I scanned the room before scanning him. “Looks like you gave it a shot.”

“I couldn’t get out of Bend fast enough once I finally figured out the life I’d been living there wasn’t the life I wanted. I was on the next bus out of town. Literally,” Cole said, leaning his hip into the counter. “Sound familiar? Small town born and raised teenager, trying and failing to accept their small town future?”

When I didn’t give him the satisfaction of an agreement, he grinned. “You and I are more alike than you think, Elle Montgomery.”

I was starting to realize that. And it scared me. But it excited me just as much.

“So is cousin Tommy stationed here too?” I asked. I wouldn’t have known. The only interaction I’d ever had with the smokejumpers was taking their orders at the diner. I wasn’t an SJ groupie like some best friends I knew.

Although the thoughts I had about Cole and the amount of time I’d spent with him might qualify me for that title.

“Nah. He jumped out of Fairbanks.” His voice got quiet again.

“Jumped as in he doesn’t jump anymore?” I might not have known a lot about smokejumping, but I did know the profession was hard on the body and the burn out rate was high.

Cole gave one shake of his head.

“Why not?”

“He died,” he said, staring at the floor unseeingly. “He was killed in action.”

“Gosh, Cole,” I said, automatically reaching for his hand. “I’m sorry.”

He studied my hand in his, my fingers weaved through his, like they were an equation he was trying to solve. “Thanks, Elle.” His hand tightened around mine. “Tommy was one hell of a guy and like a big brother to me, but he went out with his boots on. It was a good way to go.”

My brows came together. “How was it a good way to go? He couldn’t have been very old. Twenty-five? Thirty?”

The words were out before I could stop them. This was fast becoming my habit around Cole. I’d always been more of a think-before-you-speak person, but I was the opposite with him. I was all impulse and instinct around Cole, and I wasn’t sure if this was a good thing.

“Tommy was twenty-three when he died,” Cole said, not letting my hand go or even looking offended. “And it was a good way to go because one day, Elle, we’re all going to die. We might not be able to change the day or the time, but we can at least control which way we get to leave this world. Tommy left it with a bang. He lived it with a bang.” Cole was watching me in that way again, like he saw right through me. “It was a good way to go.”

   
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