Chapter 20
“So, Sup’s riding his ass the whole time, and this poor kid is shitting his pants searching the equipment room, the tool shed, looking everywhere for a trench digger, not realizing he was the fuckin’ trench digger.” Cal chuckles, rummaging through the gift basket they had Scottie bring me, in search of snacks.
“Twenty goddamn minutes it took before it finally clicked in his brain that there’s no fucking such thing.” Opp leans back in his chair.
Cal pulls out two packets of chocolate covered almonds and tosses one to Opp.
“Shoulda' seen Sup, standing there with his arms folded across his chest and that fucking scowl on his face,” Opp says, tearing into the package and pouring the contents into his mouth.
“Fuck, I miss it already,” I say, scrubbing my jaw that I haven’t shaved in almost two weeks.
Opp stands and pats me on the shoulder. “You’ll be back, bro. Have you read the fire safety manual we gave you? Some useful shit in there for avoiding this next time.” He smirks
“Been studying every night, ya prick,” I mutter.
Opp digs through the basket and pulls out another sleeve of almonds.
“It was a bitch, though,” he says, pulling his phone out of his back pocket and opening his photos then scrolls for a second, before handing me the phone. I stretch my left arm out; it’s so fucking tight but thankfully it doesn’t feel like it’s still on fire anymore after four days of healing. I scroll through the pictures he has of the rest of their time in Skykomish, the last one of his drip torch in the center of a beautiful fireline. Blaze and smoke in the distance.
“So, no word on the next roll?” I ask. They’ve been home since yesterday.
“Fuck, I hope we get a few days,” Cal says. “Be nice to take Scottie to dinner, get some hikes in, sleep in a bed…”
“How long till you can come back?” Opp asks, crinkling up his garbage and doing his best hook shot into the trash. “Kobe,” he mutters as he lands it. I chuckle.
“At least another two weeks for this to heal up.” I nod to my wounds. “Three weeks tops, I think I’ll miss a couple rolls,” I say. “Maybe get to go home in a few days, we’ll see,” I add.
“Oh, sorry.” Violette’s voice sounds in the doorway. “I didn’t know you had company.”
I sit up straighter in bed; fuck me, she looks gorgeous today. She smiles at the guys and makes her way between them to update my whiteboard. Her light chestnut hair is braided down her back, a few wisps frame her heart-shaped face, and she’s wearing pale blue scrubs—the color on her is fantastic, and the way these ones fit her hips and are drawn in around her small waist?—
“He always stare at you like that?” Cal chuckles, asking Violette. “What a hazardous work environment.”
If I could hit him with my left arm I would.
“Christ…” I mutter. “I…was just thinking that color looks nice on you, Vi,” I say awkwardly to try to save myself from it looking like I was checking her out.
I mean…I was, but still.
Violette smiles then looks away, a pink blush starts to creep up the soft column of her throat. I love it.
“In his defense, he’s on pain meds so that’s why he’s drooling,” Opp adds from his chair in the corner.
“I’ll be back in twenty, boys, my patient needs his dressings changed,” Violette says, pointing at my guys as she disappears behind the door.
The moment she’s gone they all start snickering.
“ You look nice today, Vi, ” Opp says sitting up straight doing his best mock impression of me. “ Can you give me a sponge bath? ” he adds.
I throw the cup on my bedside table at him.
“She could hear you, you fuck,” I mutter.
Opp doubles over. “You might as well write ‘ I was staring at your ass’ on your forehead.”
I look at Cal who leans back and folds his arms over his chest like the Godfather. Opp stands and grabs the whiteboard marker, writing in his messy scrawl “ Stop staring at Vi’s ass ” under the “today’s goals” section.
“Fucking erase that shit now,” I tell him, gritting my jaw.
“Or what?” Opp coaxes, but, of course, he erases it. Shithead.
“What are you doing?” he asks with a head nod, more serious than the others.
I know how protective they all are of Vi.
I shake my head and run a hand through my hair. “I don’t fucking know,” I answer honestly.
“Look, I don’t really know what happened with you two, aside from this weird kind of tension, but Jacob told me once you sort of dated.” Cal leans forward in his chair. “I know she’s single now, but she’s newly single and she just moved back, so make sure you know what you’re doing.”
I look to the direction of the door where she last was.
“I don’t think it matters anyway, she just barely started talking to me again, the chance of there being anything to worry about is slim,” I say.
Cal laughs a real hearty Cal laugh, the one that only comes when he’s thoroughly amused. My eyes snap to his in question.
“That fire burn your brain cells too?” he asks.
Opp snorts in the corner.
I look at them both with a blank stare.
“Violette looks at you like you hung the fucking moon. Has since she was eighteen. Even now that she’s Violette Stafford , even when she looks mad at you, hell, even just five minutes ago when she walked in this room. That isn’t changing anytime soon, so just be careful,” Cal warns, like this is something I should just obviously know.
The guys stand and get ready to leave, I realize I should be happy to hear his assessment.
It should give me hope, but the only thing I can think of is how much I hate the idea of Violette— my Violette—with another man’s last name.