Chapter 13
Iggy
W e had a fight.
And we made up.
That’s all that was.
So why do I feel so undone, like I’m half dissolved and floating in a blinding afterglow? Maybe if he fucks me a few more times, it’ll go away.
“Are you awake?” I whisper.
F riday is all hands on deck. Luís calls in the two weekend rangers, plus the two retired rangers who, when needed, trade-off taking the volunteer position I’m currently filling. We’re behind schedule clearing the lava channels of wildlife, and now there’s a rush to get it done ahead of the Truthfire Festival on New Ember’s Eve. It’s grueling work, especially with winter in full swing and three feet of snow on the ground.
Gods I miss making flyers.
I pause for a breather. “Would you look at that view?” I point up to the summit, and I’m startled to feel the way my chest swells. It’s just some wisps of clouds clinging to a craggy peak, but damn. “I didn’t know snow could make it even prettier,” I say, almost to myself.
“Yeah, it’s real nice this time of year,” Chad agrees from a few feet away, but he doesn’t look up from where he’s shoveling, and so he doesn’t get that glowy look that tells me he’s taking in one of his favorite views. You’re not looking , I’m about to say, but then he turns to me.“Wait until you see it on New Year’s Eve. It’s magnificent. There’s a spot just south of town square with a perfect, unobstructed view. I was thinking you and me, we’ll pack a picnic and some blankets, and after we’ve done some of the festival stuff, we’ll head there, wrap ourselves together, and wait for the show. Nice and cozy.” He stops to rest his chin atop the handle of his shovel and grins at me, and there’s the bright-eyed look I was expecting earlier, only he’s not looking at the volcano.
My heart squeezes, and a scary thought pops into my head. He's my favorite view too.
“Sounds amazing,” I say, biting at my lip. He assures me it will be. “Is it a one-time kind of thing, or do you think someone would want to come back to see it again?”
“It holds up on repeat. Definitely. There are lots of people who return every year.” He nods.
“Maybe I’ll turn into one of those people,” I say with a little nonchalant shrug, like I’m not feeling him out, not testing the waters. What would he think of me coming back to visit? I glance at him, looking for his reaction.
“Yeah?” He gives me a soft smile before his eyes narrow “Wait. You’re not getting sweet on Winter Bliss, are you?”
I snort. When I applied for the job at the Emberlight Resort, my plan was to stomach Winter Bliss for however long it took to earn the work experience I’d claimed on my resumé, and use that experience to get me in the door somewhere else, anywhere else that wasn't here . But now any hope of that is ruined. Even if I hadn’t ditched out on my interview, I have a criminal record accessible only to employers inside this county.
As long as I never try to work here, I’ll never have to worry about it.
But that doesn’t mean I couldn’t visit. I glance back up at the summit. It’d be nice, actually.
Damn it. Maybe I am a little sweet on Winter Bliss. If only it weren’t such a long way from home, an eighty-hour round trip if I tried to drive it. But if I get a good job, I could probably afford a monthly flight. I’d see him twelve weekends a year. It feels like too little.
“Would you ever … ?” I stop myself from asking the rest of the question.
“Would I ever what?” he asks.
“Never mind.” Would he come visit me in Boston? If we were both willing to travel, it could work. Every other weekend. That’s not as good as seeing him every day, but it’s a decent amount of time together. It could work.
I want this to work. The weight of that certainty settles in my stomach.
But is that what he wants? I’m not ready to ask. What if he says no? Or worse, what if he says yes, but he’s lying to himself? He’s not that good at knowing what he wants, and he’s entirely too good at accepting scraps.
When we pack it in at the end of the day, Chad insists he has no energy to go to the bar even though it’s Friday and he’s supposed to. He gives a giant yawn, stretching his arms way over his head as if to prove just how beat he is. “I just can’t do it.” I don’t want him to go either, so I don’t argue. The deal we made seems to have imploded. A failure I’m okay sweeping under the rug if he is.
But five minutes later, when Luís invites him to dinner, Chad’s exhaustion magically vanishes. “Can I bring Iggy?” he asks, already looking excited. “My treat,” he adds quickly, glancing at me.
Luís gives me a hard look. “Babs told me to invite Chad out for a night with friends. Are we friends?” he asks me.
“I consider us work acquaintances on friendly terms,” I say after a moment’s consideration.
He snorts. “Well then, by all means. The more the merrier. See you there at seven sharp. Dress up. It’s fancy.”
Fancy? Excitement sparks in my chest. This is the one fashion challenge my suitcase is up for, and I pull out all the stops. Sexy, sleek, sophisticated? I’ve got looks to choose from. I get dressed in my Friday-night bedroom so that I can do a grand reveal. The moment I step into the living room, Chad’s mouth pops open. He stares at me like I’m the first fire he’s ever gazed into.
“You look—” He swallows hard.
“Like a swarm of bugs at sunset?” I tease.
“Yeah. Like a firefly,” he says softly and nods. “You look luminescent tonight, Iggy.”
I preen as delighted flutters run up and down my skin. It’s a very good compliment, one he will not be writing down. No one else gets called luminescent. That one’s just for me.
He’s dressed up too, and Mother Below, he looks sinfully handsome. I’ve never seen him not in jeans or his work clothes. “I didn’t know you owned a suit,” I say.
“Don’t get too excited. I only have the one,” he says, and there’s a touch of color in his cheeks.
“It’s a good one.” It’s a tailored fit in a warm black or perhaps a very dark brown material. It shows off the width of his shoulders, the taper of his hips, the length of his legs. He has a blue shirt on under the jacket, the same color as his eyes.
“You’re breathtaking,” I say, an honest opinion. The sight of him makes it hard for me to breathe.
“Well then, we’re well paired. Shall we?” He offers me his elbow.
As we drive through downtown, there are decorations everywhere, and it’s just like I remember from when I was a kid, a lively mix and match of holidays. Everywhere there are strings of lights, tinsel garlands, fire plinths, and street-wide banners announcing the Truthfire Festival and welcoming out-of-towners to Winter Bliss.
“Hey, just a heads up.” Chad squeezes my hand. “Babs, uh–” He gives a nervous chuckle. “She’s a talker. And blunt. But she’s got a heart of gold.” He glances at me for a reaction.
“I don’t mind bluntness,” I say, not adding that the aversion to it is mostly a human trait.
“Yeah, I didn’t think so. This is going to be great.” He smiles at me reassuringly, but I didn’t feel the need for reassurance until he smiled at me like that.
As we near the door of the restaurant, I spot a gleaming wall of bottles behind a stately bar. I pull to a dead stop.
“What’s wrong?” Chad asks, squeezing my hand.
“I don’t think I’m supposed to be here.” My skin prickles as my free hand lifts to cover my horn. Sometimes I almost forget about my monitor and the restrictions it imposes.
“You’re fine,” he assures me. When I give him a doubtful look, he tells me he had the same worry and made a call. “It comes down to the liquor license,” he says. “Bars and liquor stores are off limits, but a restaurant is fine.”
His certainty is all the reassurance I need. I relax, and slipping my hand through the crook of his elbow, we walk in together. From the coat check, we’re shown to our table. Luís and his blunt wife, Babs, are already there, and it’s clear by the look on her face, Babs didn’t expect me. Thanks, Luís.
She shoots her husband an irritated look before introducing herself to me with a smile. Babs is an orc, and even seated, she’s a head taller than Luís.
“I guess we’re just waiting on Grace now,” Babs says with a grimace as she taps the table nervously. “Oh, there she is!” Babs rises from her chair, stretching her well-muscled body to its full height to wave across the room. “Grace!”
We all turn. Grace is an orc too. Strong and elegant in build, dressed in satin. First impression? She’s fucking gorgeous. I’ve never seen anyone besides an orc pull off the look ‘barbarian seductress,’ and tonight, Grace nailed it. As she strides across the room on long legs, tusks flashing, I briefly imagine she’s just stepped off the runway on her way to war.
Oh, fuckety-fuck.
“I should go,” I say, getting up out of my chair.
“Why?” Chad asks, reaching for my hand.
“Oh, are you two together?” Babs asks, pointing back and forth between us.
“We’re, uh—” I pull my hand out of his as I stumble for a word. Sleeping together. Temporarily shacking up.
“Why?” Chad asks me again, this time rising from his chair in a ‘if you’re going, I’m going,’ kind of way. He’s not paying attention to anyone else, eyes glued to me, and he’s missing the clues.
“She’s the new park ranger,” Luís jumps in. “With us until January. Then she’s moving away. Isn’t that right?” He looks at me. I don’t have a chance to answer.
“Oh, you’re the new park ranger! No, no, you have to stay,” Babs insists. “I’ve been wanting to meet you. And as long as you’re not together, it’s no problem. The more the merrier.” She gives a relieved sigh, but smacks Luís on the shoulder anyway for good measure.
I take my seat, and Chad follows suit. “Are you okay?” he asks.
Seconds before Grace arrives, I whisper. “You’re on a blind date.”
He pulls up rigid in his chair.
“Relax,” I say, reassuringly. “It’s fine. And it is Friday.” I give him a rueful smile. I guess our bargain isn’t done with us even if we thought we were done with it.
“Grace!” Babs stands up to give her friend a warm hug. “Everyone, this is my good friend Grace.” She motions for Grace to take the open chair next to Chad. “Oh, Grace, this is Iggy, a new park ranger. She and Chad just work together.” She waves a dismissive hand in my direction. “Chad, you obviously remember Grace. From what I hear, you’ve hit on her before.” Babs wrinkles her nose at him. “Which didn't help our cause any, mister, but don’t you worry. I vouched for you, I said, ‘Grace, he’s a ten! You know, if you just give him a chance, and, well, if you look past a few things. And if you don’t get turned off by the name Chad.’” She pauses to laugh, and I have to fight the urge to kick her under the table. “Then he's a solid ten! And look, she showed up. Thank you, Grace!”
“Of course. I’m happy to be here.”
A waitress comes by and I order an old fashioned. Chad orders a Scotch, neat. He grimaces his way through a couple of sips, but no, no, my friend—tonight’s not a sipping night. I switch our glasses and he downs the old fashioned in a couple of gulps before shooting me a quick smile that does nothing to hide the agitation behind his eyes.
“Grace, tell Chad what you were doing just the other day.” Babs turns to Chad, clearly bursting to tell him herself, and so she does. “Grace bought a burial plot. Tell him about it, Grace.”
Her friend blushes at first, but then she smiles, and as if she needed any more winning attributes, she has a dimple too. It’s only in one cheek, but it shows itself when she talks. “I know it sounds a little morbid, but there’s this beautiful hill where my grandparents were laid to rest, and when I went to visit recently, I noticed there was one plot left overlooking Teapot Lake. And I just had this feeling that it was meant for me. An overwhelming peace, and I didn’t think twice. I bought it right then and there.”
“She’s planning on being buried here, Chad. Isn’t that nice? She’s going to live and die right here, and you wouldn’t even have to think about where to put her when she’s gone. She’s got that all figured out already.” She winks at him, grinning ear to ear.
There’s a part of me that wants to laugh at the strangeness of the conversation, but it’s hard to do that when my stomach is sinking. Babs, without an ounce of subtlety, is nailing it. The one thing Chad actually does want is someone local, someone who will stay in Winter Bliss. It’s the one thing he’s been clear and adamant about since day one.
And here she is.
We order food. It comes. We eat, and all the while, Babs is determined there will be no awkward silences. She came too well prepared.
“Chad, tell Grace about your catch,” she says. When he looks confused, she gives a weary sigh. “A couple of months ago, you and Luís went fishing.” She turns to Grace, “Luís caught trout, which is my favorite. Chad, tell Grace what you caught.”
“Bass,” he supplies.
“Bass is my favorite!” Grace lights up.
“Bass is her favorite, Chad! When Luís got home and told me about it, I just knew it was a sign. He said to me, ‘Chad caught some bass,’ and immediately, I was like, ‘Babe, do you know who likes bass? Grace! Grace loves bass.’ That’s how I knew the two of you had to meet.” She beams proudly for a second before her nose wrinkles and she gives Chad another disapproving look. “Of course, I didn’t know at the time that you’d already hit on her a few times or that it’d be so much work to convince her to give you another chance.”
Because I’m watching closely, I catch the look Chad shoots Luís, but I can’t tell what’s behind it. Irritation maybe? When I glance at Luís, he’s grimacing and rubbing at his forehead.
“Five or six times, I think.” Grace says. “And the last time he compared me to a tree.”
Chad winces.
Five or six times? He is persistent, but that seems like a lot, even for him. I dip my head forward to get another look at Grace. Yes, she’s beautiful, but if I had to lump her into one of two groups, I’d put her with the woman Chad avoided when he was making his rounds at Under the Volcano.
But clearly he didn’t avoid her.
Something he told me once, pops to mind. “If I meet someone special, I don’t want my head to go blank, choke, and miss my shot. I want to have a good line ready. That’s not so dumb, is it?” My stomach sinks further until it's sloshing in my toes.
He was practicing that night, hitting on tourists. And why was he doing that? So that when he met a woman like Grace, someone special, someone local, he’d have a good line ready.
She’s the type of woman he’s been practicing for.
“He meant it nice, Grace. I already told you that.” Babs, sensing the roadblock, is already tunneling through. “He loves trees! He’s a park ranger. You just have to understand that sometimes he means things as compliments that you wouldn’t think are compliments. Don’t you, Chad? Chad?”
“I love trees,” Chad mumbles as he tips back his glass and the ice clinks against his teeth. I’ve kept the old fashioneds coming. Maybe that was a mistake. I’ve never seen him look more uncomfortable than he does right now. I want to take his hand into my lap. I want to feel the sturdy weight of it resting on me as I tell him everything’s fine. He’ll be fine. But he’s on a date, and I can’t touch him.
“See, Grace, it wasn’t about your legs. Nobody thinks you’re stocky. That’s all in your head because of Jaffo, the dumbass. But Chad’s not like that. Isn’t that right, babe?” She looks to Luís for support, but all she gets is a mumbled something about him not being privy to what’s going on in Chad’s head. “Iggy—” Her head swings to me. “You know Chad. He'd never compare someone to a tree as an insult, would he?”
A mean little monster perks up inside me. Say yes! Tell her it’s a terrible insult and it means he’s repulsed by her and she should leave.
“No. He’d never do that.” My voice cracks, mirroring the sound in my chest, followed by a sharp pain. I take a sip of water. It only helps with one of them. “A tree compliment is very on brand for him,” I add, forcing a smile and hoping it looks genuine enough to hide how queasy I feel.
“See, Grace, it's his brand! ” Babs nods a thanks at me for supplying such a perfect word.
Grace looks mollified. Her dimple is showing itself again, and I catch the dart of her hand under the table as she squeezes Chad’s knee. I have to fight the urge to swat her away.
He jolts, and Grace does it again, only this time with a giggle. “Are you ticklish? How adorable.”
Babs insists on ordering three desserts for the table even though there are five of us. “Bring extra spoons, please. We’re all gonna share.” But no sooner are the spoons passed around than Babs notices our table’s candle has gone out. “Oh, no!” she pouts. “Iggy, would you mind?” She pushes the candle to me, and it’s my turn to go rigid as I quietly panic inside.
“Sorry, no.” I push it away with a trembling hand.
“Oh, come on. Just a little snap,” Babs insists, sliding it back toward me.
Chad’s hand comes down, stopping it. “If she says no, she means no.” He picks up the candle holder and puts it firmly back where it was.
Babs huffs, affronted, but Grace’s eyes sparkle. “That’s a very good answer,” I hear her murmur. She shifts in her chair, crossing her legs toward him, and the look she gives him is nothing short of a smolder.
It sends another painful crack through my chest, like my ribs are breaking one by one.
“ W e should do this again,” Grace says to Chad. We’re all outside now, saying our goodbyes. Even in a long winter coat, she looks powerful and elegant.Chad hesitates. “I can’t.” He glances at me. “The holidays are coming up. I’m spoken for, I—I think.”
“Oh, tell me about it! I’m going to be out of town for the next two weeks, visiting three different cities. But I’ll be back in time for New Year’s. Do you have plans?”
Chad glances at me again. “Yeah, I, uh—”
“He has back up plans,” I say, cutting in to stop him from doing something he’s sure to regret after I’m gone.
When he first brought up New Year’s and offered to spend the whole day with me, I could have taken that deal, and then I’d have every right to keep it. New Year’s would be mine, fair and square. But, no. Instead of agreeing, I did what everyone else does to him. I offered him a fraction of what he was hoping for. Scraps.
And he didn’t just take them. He was happy about it, excited even, because a lifetime of scraps had taught him how to be happy with very little, a fraction of what he deserves.
“Oh, so you’re free? Wonderful! I never miss the Truthfire Festival. Do you like it?”
“It’s good,” he says, brow knitting.
“Good? It’s magnificent!” She asks for his phone and adds her number. “Call me. We’ll meet up for a drink then head downtown and find a good spot to watch the volcano go off. I’ll bring some blankets. We’ll make it cozy.” She’s off with a wave and kisses blown in all directions.
Babs and Luís follow suit.
Chad stares at his phone for a second then turns to look at me, a question clear on his face.
He doesn’t see it.
Grace doesn’t live thousands of miles away. She’s not some of what he’s been looking for. She’s everything he’s ever wanted, and I can’t stand by and let him choose me instead, choose scraps when he deserves so much more.
I can't because—because I—
My heart spasms in my chest, and I swallow hard. It doesn’t matter why, I just can’t. He deserves better.
We walk back to the truck in silence. On the way home, I stare out the window as my hand absently rubs the aching spot in my chest.
I don’t cry until I’m alone.
T hat night I dream I’m back in the rental cabin, sitting in front of the fireplace. There are cast-iron tongs in my lap, but I toss them aside and grab the burning logs with my bare hands. I want to shape the fire, sculpt it, join it. Tongues of flame lick at my wrists and engulf my hands, and if I squint my eyes just right, I can pretend I made them.
But the more I handle the logs, the more soot goes everywhere. Soon, ash coats my hands, my face, my feet. Trails of it lead off in every direction, marking the paths I’ve wandered to and from the hearth.
What have I done? I ask myself as I look around. I’ve made a terrible mess of everything .
I wake up in my Friday-night room feeling hollow and dry. No more tears.
We gather for breakfast, and there’s an unspoken tension between me and Chad. Darcy doesn’t seem to pick up on it. She’s feeding Haisley and chatting excitedly about Christmas. She wants to know how many people are coming.
Chad says he’s not sure. He hasn’t heard from his brother, and his mom is still a maybe. His mouth pinches, and I feel a spike of irritation on his behalf.
“I thought your mom confirmed,” I say.
“She submitted for the time off. I haven’t heard anything more than that.”
“Why doesn’t she follow up—with them and you ?” I ask, as the first flush of anger creeps up my neck.
“It’s the busy season.” He shrugs.
Scraps. I grind my teeth. For all that his mother was better behaved and better groomed, it turns out she’s exactly like his dad.
“It’s cold today. Can we have a fire?” Darcy asks with a fake shiver and a bright smile.
“That’s a great idea,” Chad says, returning her smile with one that might be convincing if it didn’t look like he was trying so hard.
Darcy is good with matches, thankfully, and doesn’t ask for my help in getting a blaze going. When Chad comes over, he picks a spot right next to me and settles in so close our thighs and elbows sandwich together. I discreetly flick out my tongue, curious what’s in the air between us. It’s not sweet or sour, so not arousal or fear, not that I expected either. Those two are just the easiest to identify. This is something else.
Sadness? Or is that just me?
I take a quick glance at him, and he catches me. He holds my eyes for a second before he snuggles in closer. I hook my ankle over his and go back to staring into the fire. I stare and I ponder, but once I’m done, I can no longer sit still.
“Can I borrow your truck?” I ask. Chad doesn’t say no, exactly. Instead, he offers to drive me wherever I need to go. I tell him it’s something I need to do alone.
“Your license is suspended,” he reminds me.
“It’s something I need to do with Darcy,” I amend.
Darcy snorts. “I don’t want to be your chauffeur.”
“Yes you do. You like spending time with me.”
“You don’t know that,” she says, but I see the uncertainty that flickers across her face.
“I know everything,” I say, and I make a show of flicking out my tongue in her direction. “You think I’m a badass.” Flick. “With perfect hair.” Flick. “Great clothes.” Flick. “And you idolize me.”
“That’s not how demon senses work!” she protests, and next to me, Chad chuckles.
“How would you know?” I ask, cocking an eyebrow at her.
“I looked it up,” she says, her cheeks flushing pink.
“Well, since you know so much, you can educate me while you drive me around. Go put some shoes on.” Darcy huffs but gets up.
“Will you watch Haisley?” She asks Chad over her shoulder as she deposits the baby into a playpen.
“Yep, I got her,” Chad calls after her as she leaves. Then to me he asks, “Where are you going?” His big hand slips under mine and he lifts my palm to his lips, placing a tender kiss right at the center.
“I’ll tell you later,” I say as I rub my thumb across his bottom lip.
“What if I ask you to stay?” There’s a soft pleading in his eyes that has my heart aching once again.
“We’ll be back soon.”
Once we’re in the truck, Darcy starts the engine. “Where to?” she asks.
“The Emberlight Resort,” I say, as I buckle myself in. “There’s someone I need to talk to.”