Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Ulysses
Ihad Finn here now. I intended to get him talking and to not let him stop. I’d texted Spring to bail on our planned lunch so she wouldn’t show up. “You’ve noticed an uptake in fires? Small towns rarely see this many—”
Finn held his left index finger in the air—effectively cutting me off. “Food first. I’m starving. It’s been hours since breakfast.”
Despite the fact he wasn’t wrong—we were well past noon—I wanted to argue.
Since I was paying for this meal myself, I wanted answers.
I would’ve loved to use my nearly nonexistent expense account, as I would’ve in Vancouver in a heartbeat, but the damn thing was well, nearly nonexistent.
Saving those few dollars for a rainy day felt like a good idea.
Plus, as a reporter, I didn’t generally pay for tips.
And after last year’s clusterfuck, I was even less inclined to do so.
In the past. Nothing to see here. Don’t rubberneck as you drive past the catastrophe that is my life…
Before I could come up with a coherent argument—like the fact I was paying—Sarabeth was back with our food.
Finn had ordered a steak along with a baked potato and a side of broccoli.
Pretty healthy compared to my deep-fried French toast with cream cheese and strawberry sauce. Just an explosion of sugar-and-fat goodness.
“So, what’s life as a small-town reporter?” Finn asked—then proceeded to take a big bite of his steak.
I cut a piece of my French toast and dipped it in real Canadian maple syrup. “Same as being a reporter anywhere, I suppose.” Big fat liar.
He swallowed. “So you’ve been a reporter elsewhere?”
I squinted. “I didn’t just come into the world fully formed in July. Yes, I’ve had other jobs.”
“As a reporter.”
“As you say.”
Finn waved his fork at me. “You’re evading.”
I shrugged. “You have a search engine. You know my full name—”
“I do now. Once I found out you were the new editor. Unlike in July.”
I held his gaze. “Unlike July.” The best and worst half-a-night-stand of my life.
“What if I said I didn’t want to search you?”
The frown came quickly as I again regarded him.
“Why would you not search me?" Do you really want to be encouraging him? Nope. Probably not. Still, I couldn’t resist the urge to poke him. Sort of like poking the bear. God only knew what would happen. How he’d interpret the official story of what happened.
“Maybe I see you as a gift at Christmas. I want to savor the unwrapping rather than ripping all the paper off at once.” The firefighter grinned.
“Something tells me, as a child, you ripped plenty of paper.”
“That might or might not be true. Sometimes, though, I like to savor. Have things last more than a few hours.”
Another jab at the fact I left him in the middle of the night and hadn’t told him how to find me. I still didn’t know the exact moment he’d discovered I was the new editor of the Mission City Gazette. I’d thought that might’ve brought him to my doorstep. If only in anger.
Even that news hadn’t drawn him out. Nope. Took running into each other at a bar in Langley to finally bring on the confrontation I’d been expecting. “Sometimes a few hours is all we’re capable of in that moment.”
“Oh?” Finn sipped his coffee. “I think you can do better than that.”
I wasn’t convinced—but I also wasn’t going to argue. “So…fires.”
He gestured to his plate. “Not while I’m eating. I want to properly digest my food.”
I held in the eye roll. Barely.
We ate in stiff silence for a while, Finn taking tiny slow bites, probably to be annoying, until…
“Finn! How’s it going?”
A deep voice had me turning in my seat.
Two men stood just behind me. The Asian man was slender and had the cutest grin. The white man stood a few inches taller and was much broader.
I ran the couple through my memories.
Right. Dr. Leopold Rogers and his nurse husband, Quinton.
Married just before the start of the school year.
Leopold had two cute kids from a previous marriage.
I knew all this because Quinton’s mother paid for a huge picture of the men, the two children, and a dog to run in the paper shortly after the wedding ceremony.
When someone dropped that kind of coin, I tended to remember.
I stuck out my hand. “Ulysses MacDonald.”
Quinton grasped it. “Quinton Rogers.”
Ah, so he’d taken the doctor’s name. Because of the kids?
I shook it firmly.
“This is my husband, Leo.”
We shook hands.
“I’d invite you to join us—” Finn gestured to the very-small booth.
Quinton waved him off. “No worries. We’re just having a quick bite before the kids get out of school. We’re enjoying a rare weekday off.”
Many medical staff worked crazy hours, so this made sense.
“Do you know anything about the fire?” Leo caught Finn’s gaze. “I sort of thought you might be there.”
“Day off.” Finn shrugged. “I didn’t get called in. Plus, I have this charming companion to keep out of trouble.”
Quinton’s eyebrows shot up.
Heat raced to my cheeks.
“He’s a reporter.” Finn chuckled. “If I wasn’t here with him, then he’d be down at the fire inhaling all those noxious fumes.”
Right. So you’re doing this for my benefit. Since he hadn’t answered a single question, I was beginning to doubt the veracity of his assertion we were here to talk business.
“You’re new in town, right?” Quinton grinned at me. “So’s Leo. Small-town living takes an adjustment. Oh, sorry, you’re from Vancouver, right?”
Okay, someone knows how to use Google. Because I’d ensured there’d been no mention of any of my previous assignments when the announcement of my arrival had been made. “Yeah, Vancouver. I’m adjusting to small-town living. Definitely a different pace of life.”
Leo nodded. “Very true. I’m from Surrey—which was a hybrid of suburbia, but also connected to Vancouver. Hell, I used to work in New West, and that commute was bad enough.”
“Oh, the new bridge opened.” Anything to veer away from any topic that might touch me.
“About bloody time.” Leo frowned. “The Patullo was always such a disaster. I hated driving over it with the kids in the car.
“How are Melodie and Trevor?” Finn grinned. “So adorable.”
“In school and fully adjusted to living here.” Leo smiled back—although I would’ve said a little wistfully. “They love having two sets of parents. Always trying to see what they can get away with.”
Quinton laughed. “And yet we coordinate with Archer and Gideon so they don’t get away with anything.” He considered. “Well, much anyway.”
“Your kids are so fricking cute.” Finn sipped his now-cold coffee.
“We love them to death.” Quinton again smiled broadly.
I wracked my mind. He’s the stepfather and…Archer was the other one? Right. Gideon and Leo had been married. Apparently co-parenting was working. Props to them.
“We’ll leave you be before your meal gets cold.” Leo gestured to our food. “Truly lovely to see you, Finn.” He met my gaze. “I know you’re not new here, but welcome to Mission City. You’ll be so happy here that you won’t want to leave.”
A knot formed in the pit of my stomach. I saw this town as punishment for a transgression I hadn’t meant to make. As soon as I could get out of here—to anywhere—I was gone. “Thanks. Finn’s keeping me on my toes.” I turned to glare at him.
He smirked.
Quinton snorted. “Yep. That’s Finn. Maybe you’ll be the guy who can keep him out of trouble?” He linked hands with his husband and tugged him toward an empty booth.
I pivoted back to Finn. “Out of trouble? I thought you were a Boy Scout.”
“I am.” He puffed out his chest. “One of the scoutiest kids in town.”
“That’s not a word.” What’s he getting at? For that matter, what did Quinton mean?
“That’s as good as it’s going to get. Eat up.”
Reluctantly, I dug back into my now-cold food. Still delicious, to be certain…but cold.
“Coffee refills?” Sarabeth held the pot.
Finn put his hand over his cup. “I’m good.”
As much as I wanted another cup, I had the feeling we were almost finished here. I offered the vivacious blonde with the sparkling blue eyes a smile. “I’m good as well.”
“You can pay up front when you’re ready to go.”
On those words, I took a quick look around. To my surprise, the diner was now full with a line of several couples waiting to get inside. “Yes, we’ll get going.”
“No rush.” She said the words with a smile.
I believed her, but I also didn’t want to hold the table longer than necessary. “We’ll come and pay.”
Finn pointed to me. “He’s paying.”
“And you’re answering questions.”
“Not until you’ve paid. You might back out of our deal.”
“Deal?” Sarabeth grinned. “Another time, you’ll have to tell me about it.”
“Sure.” Even as I said the word, though, I mentally crossed my fingers. No way was I sharing my queries with someone who clearly had the pulse of the heart of Mission City gossip. I wanted answers. From Finn.
After Sarabeth grabbed our empty plates, we followed her to the front of the restaurant. She deposited the dishes in a bin, turned, and entered our bill into a traditional cash register.
I honestly couldn’t remember having seen one like it in probably a dozen years or more. Everything was scanners and computers these days. I sort of liked the throwback vibe this place held.
I paid, and then escorted Finn out of the diner. “Now?” I guided him away from the lineup.
He shook his head. “I’m not going to answer your questions in a public place.”
I rolled my eyes. “You were the one who wanted a coffee. In public. And then you demanded dinner.”
“Hey! I asked nicely.”
You extorted me into it and I still have fucking zero answers. “Whatever. You want to go somewhere private?”
“Well, that was a nice date.”
“That wasn’t a date.” It might’ve felt like a date—but if so, it was unlike any date I’d ever been on before. Frustrating was the first word to come to mind.
“You know, most of my dates come to my house, and then I get fucked for being such a good dinner companion.”
I arched an eyebrow. Okay, things were really getting off the rails. “Can you repeat that?”
Finn smiled that boyish grin I found so difficult to refuse. “What if I make it a condition of me answering your questions? Will it make fucking me for a second time more palatable?”
I gaped. Is he serious?
From his expression, he was very serious—because lurking behind the mischief in his eyes was the desire I’d spotted that night. The night I’d almost died. The night he’d brought me to his bed. Still, I remained silent.
“Fine—fuck me and then ask me the questions.” He sauntered over to his pickup, jiggling his butt in just that way.
Okay. This isn’t normally how I get interviews.
I’m a goner.
Yeah, but what a way to go.