Chapter 18 #8
“The others told me about the Barnett legacy.”
“I figured they might,” he says, smiling. “Do you believe it?”
“Do you?”
“I didn’t. I thought it was all bullshit.
But I’ve seen it happen. I watched Cody and Bay lose their shit over Betty and Missy.
Then I watched my brothers fall one by one.
I don’t know if it’s some kind of weird voodoo magic shit, and I still doubted it all, right up until the moment I saw you.
You had your cap pulled so low I couldn’t even see your face, but I still knew, right down to my core, that you were mine.
When I saw your face for the first time, I thought my knees were going to buckle and I was going to end up on the floor at your feet.
I’ve never felt anything like it before, and I doubt I will again, until the first time I hold our babies in my arms.”
“So you think the reason you love me is because of some mystical force?” I ask uncomfortably.
“No, amore mio. I love you because you’re sweet and kind and sexy and beautiful.
I love you because your face lights up when you watch hockey, and you smile so wide when I do things you don’t expect.
I love you because you’re a fighter, but you’re still soft.
I love you because when you come, your pupils blow wide, like you can’t believe it’s happening.
I love that your nipples get hard when you see me, and your cunt drips for me.
I love that you’re mine and that I get to have the rest of forever with you.
Loving you has nothing to do with magic, and everything to do with you. ”
I didn’t know I needed to hear those words. To have him tell me that whatever is happening between us is real and not fueled by the idea of us being fated to be together.
Parting my lips, I start to say it, to form the words that I managed to say out loud to Henry but that I haven’t been brave enough to admit to Warrick yet, but before I have a chance, a loud alarm starts to sing.
Groaning, Warrick sighs. “I have to go, amore mio. Go to sleep, and I’ll call you in the morning. I love you.”
The screen goes black, and I wish I’d said it. I wish I’d told him how I feel. But I don’t want to text him. The first time you tell someone you love them shouldn’t be via text. It should be in person, when you can touch and kiss and fuck.
The next three days are the longest of my life.
My cell never stops buzzing with incoming messages from all the group chats I’ve been added to.
There’s the Barnetts chat that is a constant stream of invites.
Dinner, barbecues, movies, coffee, and lunches in town.
They are literally the most social people alive, and because there’s so many of them, it never stops.
I don’t know if they all genuinely enjoy company, or if there’s just so many of them that adding one more person to the mix makes no difference at all.
The chat with the partners of Warrick’s brothers is almost, but not quite, as busy. Unlike the Barnett women, who are all at home pregnant or taking care of the children they already have, most of the smoke jumpers’ significant others all seem to have jobs.
James works for the council; Tori has her patisserie. Etta does social media and marketing for the tattoo studio that Betty Barnett owns and Octy works at. Parker is a mechanic in the same shop that Henry runs the office in. And then there’s me, still unemployed, still mooching off the man I love.
I groan when the cell buzzes several times in succession. Part of me knows that I should be grateful to have been so easily included into these fully established friendships, but I miss Warrick, and every time a new message comes that isn’t from him, it makes me miss him even more.
According to Warrick, these last few days have been some of the busiest he’s ever experienced since he started working in Rockhead Peak.
We’ve only had a handful of short conversations that haven’t been interrupted by the alarm sounding and him having to rush off to fight a fire, attend to a car wreck, or help look for lost hikers.
Out here, the fire service isn’t just for fighting fires, they’re used as an additional emergency service and are regularly called in to assist on any kind of incident when they could be needed.
Reaching for my cell, I tap on the screen. I have new messages from Octy, Henry, and Bonnie, but it’s the message from James that catches my attention.
James: Hi, are you still looking for a job? Because this just popped up on the internal server at the council.
Attached is a link to an advertisement for a part-time adviser to work in the ranger’s office in town.
James: I remember you saying you’d been volunteering for them, which would definitely work in your favor if you were interested.
I reply so quickly my fingers hurt.
Me: This would be absolutely perfect, thank you so much for sending it to me.
James: I’m heading into town for a meeting in an hour or so if you want a ride down to the office?
Me: If you don’t mind, that would be amazing.
James: I don’t mind at all, see you in an hour.
Jumping out of bed, I race into the bathroom and turn on the shower.
Ripping Warrick’s shirt over my head, I dump it onto the floor, then rush to get clean.
Once I’m wrapped in a towel, I open the closet door and stare at all the new things Warrick bought me the other day.
Most of it is casual, but this isn’t an interview, so I don’t want to dress like I think it is.
Pulling the wide-leg pants I wore to dinner the other night from the rail, I pair them with a simple white T-shirt and heeled sandals. I don’t have much makeup, so I slick on some lip gloss and a little mascara, then concentrate on my hair.
Dragging a brush through it, I try to decide what to do with it.
It’s so long that blow-drying it takes forever, so instead I scroll through Pinterest until I find an easy, but stylish updo that I think I can make happen.
Using the dryer that Warrick ordered for me, I blast-dry my hair until it’s dry enough that I can brush it into a high ponytail.
Then I follow the step-by-step tutorial on how to twist it into a deliberately messy bun that surprisingly looks awesome.
By the time I stand in front of the mirror to assess my appearance, I’m shocked to find I look good.
I forgot how it felt to stare at my reflection and not be ashamed by it.
When I was working at BJ’s, I was disgusted by the way I looked, dressed up like an adult child to indulge the sick fantasies of the men who paid to watch me.
When I was taking showers in campground communal bathrooms, I hated watching the weight melt off me, constantly aware that I couldn’t find a job, didn’t have enough food, and was barely surviving.
Now as I look at my reflection, I can see some of the curves coming back to my figure. The black circles beneath my eyes from barely sleeping have faded, and the constant fear that had me jumping at the smallest sounds has abated.
I look happy, and I don’t remember ever looking like this before.
Not wanting to jinx things, I don’t tell Warrick about the job. Instead I grab my purse, lock the front door, then head over to James and Buck’s house a few doors down.
I knock on the door then wait.
“Come in,” James calls from inside.
Turning the handle, I tentatively push it open and find James on the couch, trying to slide her feet into heeled pumps.
“Do you need help?” I ask, rushing forward as she continues to struggle.
“Please,” she moans. “I love being pregnant, but my belly has gotten so big, I’m finding it hard to cope with any shoes that are more complicated to put on than slides.”
Taking her shoe from her, I help her slide her foot into one, then the other.
“Thank you,” she says, smiling widely as she hoists herself off the couch and to her feet.
“You look amazing,” I compliment her.
“Thanks, I have a reputation to protect, and I refuse to stop dressing the way I like to just because I’m having a baby.”
“A reputation?” I question.
“Yep. All the men I work with are terrified of me. They call me a hard-ass.” She laughs, her Barbie-blonde hair bouncing with the movement.
“Well, you look incredible.” And she does. She’s wearing a form-fitting dress that clings to her baby bump but still looks smart and sexy paired with a perfectly tailored suit jacket and sky-high pumps that make my feet hurt just looking at them.
“Thanks,” she says, easily taking the compliment as she grabs her purse and heads for the front door.
We chat easily on the ride down the mountain, and when she parks outside a fancy-looking restaurant, I’m glad that I’m familiar with the street and know where I am.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to drop you off at the ranger’s office?” she asks.
“No, I can walk from here, it’s only a couple of blocks.”
“Okay, well, I’m going to be a few hours, but I’m working from home this afternoon, so if you’re okay with hanging around till I’m done, I can give you a ride home later.”
“I don’t mind at all. I can grab a coffee or something.”
“Okay, well, good luck with the job, and I’ll call you once I’m finished with my meeting.”
Waving goodbye, James struts into the restaurant like she’s badass corporate Barbie, and I realize I’d like to be like her when I grow up.