Chapter 4
“Earth to King.” A fist hits my shoulder, and my eyes snap to Cal’s
“You alright?” he asks.
“Yeah, just fucking wrecked,” I say, leaning back in my chair as I take a swig of my beer.
“I hear that,” Roycie, our rookie, agrees. This is only his first season, and Pinafore Creek is the worst fire he’s seen so far. He’s a good sawyer, but you’d never even know he was old enough to be a firefighter. Looking at him you would assume he’s about seventeen not twenty-three, but he’s a hard worker and he follows me around a lot as he learns. He’s sort of like a stray dog. My stray dog, so I’m starting to feel responsible for him.
“Need to go home and shower somewhere I can’t catch athlete’s foot or step in jizz,” Roycie says with a grin.
“We all had to learn the hard way, now you know it’s better not to shower until you get home,” Opp says to Roycie with a chuckle. Ain’t that the truth. We all know better than to use camp showers, unless it’s absolutely necessary.
“Don’t fuckin’ laugh. I’m traumatized, dude,” Royce deadpans, which makes us all laugh even more.
“Hotshot training, lesson number one. Better to smell like ass than have sticky feet,” Opp jokes, raising his beer, and Roycie gags.
It takes a bit for the rookies to get used to not showering. Some guys don’t shower at all, no matter how long we’re out there. At best, they may hose off or whore bath themselves with wet wipes. Camp showers are notorious for being the place where some real messed up shit happens, and for some guys, not showering is just a part of their superstition. When it comes to staying safe we all have our things. Like I only change my greens every four days and never shower until I get back to base or until I get home. I just hose off every few days. Opp takes it to the extreme. He doesn’t wash his yellows all season. It’s fucking rank but there’s no shot he’s changing his ways after five continuous seasons of living to see October uninjured.
“Been looking good out there, boys!” a female voice calls from two tables over. We all turn to meet the face the voice is coming from. A table of women. All locals. Dressed for the club, not for Shifty’s. Roycie pipes up first, basking in the rookie hotshot glow, porn stash and all.
“Oh, hells yes” Dixon mutters under his breath taking them in. “Dibs on the brunette.”
“You’re fucking filthy, bro.” I take my final sip of beer.
“I got a shower at home. If she wants it, she’ll wait. A wise man once told me, ‘gotta plant the seed, King, plant the seed,’” he says with a menacing grin, using my own words against me from when I was a rookie and balls deep in women just wanting to spend a night with a hotshot. In those days, I didn’t say no very often either.
“Wanna join us, ladies?” Roycie asks, offering them an award-winning grin. “Could really use some company after the ferocious fire we just had to tame. Only been around these goons for almost a month straight.” He smirks. He’s sitting between me and Caleb and extends his arms out to grip each of our shoulders as he says it, then looks at me and waggles his eyebrows.
I chuckle. Fuckin’ manwhore.
All four women nod and stand immediately, moving to come join us.
Cal doesn’t even look up from his phone when the girls sit, Xander mutters something like “I’m getting too old for this shit,” and even though one of the women keeps smiling at me. I’m just not feeling it tonight either. I learned a few years ago that mixing one-night-stands with locals is never a good idea. Roycie will learn that too in time.
I give the woman looking at me a tight-lipped attempt at a friendly smile. Friendly because that’s all I’ve got for her. I’m fucking shook after coming face to face with Violette Taylor. I never thought I’d see her back in town.
Roycie plays the fake modest act with his audience. I half listen to him tell the girls that fighting wildfires is “all in a day’s work,” and that we’re “just extreme landscapers.” You’d think this fucker had been peddling this act for years instead of a few months.
I shake my head and laugh at our rookie, catching a glimpse of Violette through the crowd at the bar. It’s been five years since I laid eyes on her last, back at Jacob’s funeral. We didn’t talk, she was with her boyfriend at the time and way too upset for that. Her face was the last thing I expected to see when I walked through those doors tonight, and seeing her when I’m in this shape?
Fucking humiliating.
I watch as she smiles at a local guy now—Matt. He’s a medic who works with Cal’s girlfriend. Violette laughs at something he says and passes him a beer from the cooler. The jeans she’s wearing hug every curve she offers… and what she offers is perfection. Full tits filling out her Shifty’s tank top, which I’ve never found attractive on anyone in here until today. A toned waist that leads to soft round hips. Hips I could imagine rocking back and forth over me with my hands gripping them tight. And that smile, it curves up over her straight, white teeth as she tucks her thick hair behind an ear. Although she’s too far away for me to see it, I know that glimmery sort of light she gets in her eyes whenever she smiles is there. I just really don’t like that Matt is the one getting it right now. I scrub my hand over the base of my jaw.
Glimmery light? Christ, I need some fuckin’ sleep, and apparently a cold shower, since I’m sporting a goddamn semi just from looking at Violette.
I pick at the soggy label on my near empty beer bottle, watching Violette while the guys chatter on about the line we cut in yesterday and how pretty it was. Roycie is showing photos to the girls at our table, one of them is already sitting on his lap.
I wonder why Violette’s here and what happened with her husband as I continue to watch her. Her hair is longer than I remember, but still that same deep, honey sort of brown it’s always been, hanging in shiny waves almost to her waist.
I watch her wipe down the bar in graceful swipes as she sings along to a country hit and I get lost in her again. She’s still got the most incredible body. Curvy, but petite. That ass?—
“We keeping you awake?” Cal chuckles nodding toward Violette. “Are you surprised to see her? Brings him back even more, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah,” I say, clearing my throat.
I contemplate asking about her for a few more minutes as the guys all talk.
Fuck it, I’m asking.
“So, is Violette, uh…her marriage—is she…you know, is it?—”
“Over?” Sup asks, cutting me off, leaning forward, propping his thick forearms onto the table. “Yeah, it is, and she’s doing her best to adjust, for her and her daughter . Jack says she’s finally getting past some of those old demons,” he adds. “In other words, you’re gonna give her some space.”
I scoff and look away. “Obviously,” I say to my boss, annoyed he knows me so well.
Cal backs his chair out; it scrapes against the wood floor as he readies to stand. “Another round?” he asks the table.
I take my chance without thought, fully rising faster than he does. “Gotta stretch my legs anyway, Cap. I got it.” I look around the table as I clap him on the shoulder. “Who wants?”
Dixon and Caleb ask me to bring them another, and Sup shoots me a look of warning, shaking his head.
“What?” I ask. “Just trying to give my hardworking bosses a break.” I grin in defense, backing away from the table with my hands raised.
“Uh-huh, what part of space don’t you get?” Sup’s voice fades as I turn and make my way through the crowd.
I know Violette probably doesn’t want to see me, and I can’t say I blame her. In my defense, I was still a kid when I hurt her, and I had my reasons for both hurting her and not telling her why.
Now, it seems she’s home and single. And that changes everything. It also makes me hope she might be willing to forgive and forget.
Memories, coupled with regret and the loss of Jacob, threaten to steal the breath from my lungs as I eat up the space between us with steady strides.
Violette looks up at me with those bright hazel eyes when I reach the bar and I decide right here and now that I’m going to show her the man I am today. I’m gonna fix this.
She leans one handed on the bar, propping her other hand on her curvy hip then cocks her head to the side, her waves tumble down over her shoulder.
“What can I get you, King?” she asks, clearly trying to make this a quick exchange, but I’ve got other ideas.
I drum my fingers on the bar and blow out a breath, glancing behind her at the liquor on the shelf and the framed photo of Jacob hanging behind the bar. I remember the day that photo was taken. Our third fire together in Utah. Jacob’s in full gear, eyeing me down. If he was here, he’d be telling me to hurry up, get my beer, and stop trying to impress his clearly unimpressed sister. I ignore his imaginary scolding.
“What’s good here?” I ask her, focusing intently on the labels.
She scoffs. “We both know that you probably know better than I do.”
She’s already annoyed with me, and it’s been less than a minute.
“Oh, I don’t know… If I know you, I’d bet you’ve memorized every drink in this place already,” I say.
She sighs. “You don’t know me anymore, King.”
Now I’m really pissing her off, but at least I have her attention.
I maintain my focus on the bottles behind her as I speak.
“So, you settling in, Violette? Doing okay? Living at your parents or?—”
“What is this?” she asks.
I move my gaze back to her. She’s looking me up and down, her almond shaped eyes narrow, scrutinizing me.
“What?” I use my most offended tone. “I can’t be curious how you’re?—?”
“We’re not friends, King, you know it as well as I do.”
I lean in, my forearms against the bar.
“That’s the thing, Violette. I’ve decided I want to change that.”
A few beats of silence hang heavily between us before Violette tosses her head back and laughs. She’s trying to appear appalled, but her smile takes my breath away regardless.
“Seriously? After all these years?” she asks as she twists the top off a bottle of Pbr and passes it to my left.
“Thanks, Violette.”
I flinch because I didn’t even notice Sup standing behind me. I make the mistake of glancing at him. He’s side eyeing me like my grumpy older brother.
“Are you getting those beers, King, or taking up residence on Violette’s nerves for the rest of the night?”
I look from him to Violette. “A little of both,” I joke, doing my best to keep her eyes. She rolls hers and looks away, completely uninterested. Ouch .
“Well, hurry up, yeah? I’m sure she has other customers to tend to.” He nudges me with his elbow and says it loud enough for Violette to hear.
“Sure do…” she answers Sup. “So, Budweiser then?” Her eyes move to me.
“Jesus, can’t a guy just think of trying something new,” I ask them both as Sup turns to head back to the table.
Violette cocks her head to the side. “With your drink or your personality?”
I chuckle, so does Sup as he walks away.
“Once again, both, I guess,” I say honestly, scrubbing my jaw which earns an actual laugh from her.
“Look, truth is, I just don’t want you to remember me as the asshole who hurt you, it’s not who I am, at least not anymore.” I blurt out, internally cringing as soon as the words leave my mouth. That’s not how I wanted that to sound. As if she’s some charity case I’m just trying to rectify. Her eyes instantly shut down and any progress I just made goes right out the window.
Real smooth, dick.
But Violette surprises me and leans in close, her eyes quietly explore my face. She’s offering me a nice view of her cleavage if I chose to look. Of course I don’t. I’m not actually a dick.
Her clean, coconut scent fills my nose as we stand suspended in silence.
“So, you want to do what then King?” She leans even closer “Just pick up right where we left off? Forget our history?” She asks, pulling me in with her eyes.
“Not forget, maybe start fresh though...” I say awkwardly.
“Maybe get some dinner?” she asks “Share all our secrets from the last decade? BFF’s?” She adds. “And I’d be so quick to agree to that, because I’ve just been pining away over you since I was eighteen?”
She smirks and pats me on the cheek.
“I hate to break it to your massive ego, buddy, but you aren’t as memorable as you think.” She straightens up, breaking the trance she was holding me in and begins to untie the white serving apron from around her waist. “Did you ever think it might be possible that I just plain don’t like you? Or that maybe you just aren’t as charming as you think?” She shrugs.
I scramble, trying to get this train wreck of a conversation back on track. “Look, Vi, I?—”
“ Violette ,” she corrects, folding her arms across her chest.
“Violette,” I echo. “It’s been a lot of years, and I know we have some shitty memories between us, but maybe we can try something different, yeah? Just to get to know each other again? Who we are now. Maybe even become friends.”
“It’s not a good idea, we’re nothing alike and I have no time for friends,” she says with a laugh. “And I’m taking my break, so whenever you choose your adventurous new drink, you can give your order to Lou,” she adds, nodding her head toward him at the other end of the bar.
I reach across the bar and grab her arm to stop her from leaving. The feel of her soft skin under my calloused hand is foreign but the connection ripples through me like a shockwave.
She looks down where I hold her delicate wrist then back up at me.
“You know what actually? Four Buds will be just fine,” I answer quickly.
She narrows her eyes and her tongue comes out to wet her plush lips. I momentarily lose my entire thought process.
“Budweiser…America’s beer.” I shrug. Did I just quote a goddamn TV commercial?
Violette pulls her arm away and gives me the universal look for what the hell is wrong with you? then removes the caps off the beers before setting them in front of me.
I throw enough money on the bar to pay for the beers and give her a hefty tip, then grab two beers in each hand. I’ve definitely overstayed my welcome tonight and failed miserably in my attempt to get Violette to forgive me. But there’s always tomorrow.
“Thank you, Violette,” I offer her the smile that usually works for me.
She flat out ignores it and turns to fold her apron up on the counter, offering me a good view of her ass in those fucking jeans.
“Mm-hmm,” she says without turning around.
“Oh, hey, uh. You look great by the way,” I add over my shoulder.
“I know,” she retorts, still not turning around.
I raise my eyebrows. Well, this Violette is certainly a little more confident than the one I knew when we were kids.
It makes me happy; she never saw her worth in her younger years.
I grin as I make my way back through the crowd. When I set the beers on the table, Sup is already giving me the hairy eyeball.
“Just can’t listen, can ya, kid?” he asks.
I shrug as I take my seat. “No idea what you mean, just welcoming her home.”
He shakes his head at me and mutters something as he sips his beer.
I glance at Violette when I sit. She’s looking back, until the precise moment my eyes meet hers, then she looks away.
It's only a second but it gives me the tiny spark of hope I need. She’s definitely gonna try to fight me, but I can be persuasive as fuck when I want something.
And if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that you rarely get second chances in life, so if this is the universe giving me one, I’m taking it.