Chapter 23
twenty-three
It’s been almost two weeks since Logan made me breakfast and almost kissed me before storming off. I’ve only seen him a total of three times. Twice in passing and once for our weekly check-in.
During said check-in, I brought up a possible option to use a computer program for keeping track of calls. But he instantly shot me down. “There’s no point in fixing something that isn’t goddamn broken,” he growled before practically shoving me out of his office.
Meanwhile, Brex has been seeking into my room at night and climbing into bed with me. He hasn’t tried anything since the first night he followed me back to my room and made me come with his fingers.
Instead, we just stay up talking until we both fall asleep. I’m always disappointed when I wake up to find him gone in the morning. Definitely for the best seeing as things could get weird if the other guys found out.
God only knows how Logan would react at this point.
I’m the only girl on this shift and I don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea about me. They know nothing about our circumstances, much less how Brex and I actually met.
Mud and water squish under my boots as I trudge through what was once a popular hiking trail in the hills on the outskirts of Lakeside.
This time of year, the rain can be particularly heavy, loosening the soil. A recipe for disaster for homes built on and around the rolling hills and mountains that surround the tourist town.
A few feet ahead, Brex hitches up his backpack, tossing me a quick look over his shoulder. “You okay back there, Pretty?”
I roll my eyes. To anyone else, he’s a harmless flirt. But to me, he’s a six foot five, muscular wet dream.
The crux of it is, even though I said we need to keep things professional, on the nights he stays away, I find myself wishing he would touch me again.
Lying in bed in the dark, thinking about what happened between us in Portland.
Wishing I would’ve invited him in. How he made me come until I fell dead sleep.
Sometimes, I dream about them both. Brex molding his body up against my back, kissing my neck, while Logan presses against my front, stroking me over my panties. It’s ridiculous, because when I come, I wake up and it’s my hand instead of his, pleasuring me in my sleep.
“Never better,” I pant. You’d think with as much of a workout I get doing aerial silk and pole work I would be in better freaking shape. Mud is no joke.
Brex pauses, broad shoulders silhouetted against a gray sky as he turns to face me. Mud clings to his boots, splattered halfway up his calves. Even in this mess, he looks good. Too good, actually.
Get your head in the game, Rey.
“Need a minute?” Unlike the soft patter of rain, the tone in his voice is gruff and sexy.
Lungs burning with each breath, I shake my head. “I’m fine. Just... this mud is a bitch.”
“Tell me about it.” His understanding smile comes quick. “We’ve got about another half mile before we reach the next cabin. You sure you’re good?”
“Positive.” I force myself to straighten, adjusting the strap of my medical bag. “Let’s keep moving.”
The 911 call came just before dawn. A frantic man reported that a mudslide had buried half his cabin while he’d been out checking his generator. He’d escaped with nothing but the clothes on his back.
Now, Brex and I are on one team, along with four other squads, scouring the hillside for any other isolated cabins that might have been affected.
The terrain is treacherous and slippery. Mud sucks at my boots, threatening to wrench them off my feet with each careful step I take. Fallen branches, hidden beneath the surface, are more than ready to trip anyone not paying attention to where they’re going.
Thankfully, the rain has slowed to a drizzle, but the damage has already been done. Water is still running in rivulets down the hillside, carrying debris along with it.
Brex stops, waiting until I’m beside him before continuing. He’s been doing that all morning—matching his pace to mine, always staying close enough to grab me if I slip.
“Logan is worried about you,” he says casually. A little too casual, if you ask me.
I stumble slightly, catching myself before I face-plant into the mud. “Oh?”
“About you being out here.” Brex doesn’t look at me as he speaks, eyes scanning the terrain ahead. “First major call and all.”
“Did he actually say that?” I can’t keep the edge out of my voice.
Brex snorts. “Logan? No, not a chance. He’s too busy pretending he doesn’t give a shit. I could tell by the look on his face when he watched you get in the truck.”
“Well, he’s made his intentions more than clear.”
Eyebrow raised, he smirks down at me. “The man has asked me about you every damn day since you started. How you’re doing. If you’re settling in okay. If anyone is giving you trouble.”
My heart does a stupid little flip. “Really?”
“Like clockwork.” He shakes his head. “It’s driving me nuts, actually. I’m starting to feel like his personal messenger boy.”
With no idea what to say to that, I focus on navigating around a fallen tree instead. The mud is deeper here, and I have to lift my knees high with each step.
“Careful,” Brex warns, reaching out to steady me when I wobble. His grip is firm, sending electricity shooting through my veins.
“I’m fine,” I say, gently shifting out of the hold he has on my arm.
We continue on in silence for about fifteen more minutes before a small cabin comes into view through the trees. It’s rustic, made of weathered logs with a stone chimney. The mudslide has clearly hit the property, but from what I can see, the damage isn’t catastrophic.
“Let’s check it out,” Brex says, tone shifting to professional mode.
We approach cautiously, calling out as we near the front door. “Lakeside Fire Search and Rescue!”
Silence. The door is unlocked, swinging open when Brex gives it a gentle push.
“Hello? Anyone home?” I call out, stepping inside as I follow behind him.
The cabin is small but well-kept. There’s a kitchenette with a wood stove and a small dining table. A living area with a worn leather couch. And a hallway leading to what I assume are bedrooms and a bathroom.
“Clear,” Brex announces after checking the main room. “I’ll take the back.”
“I’ll check the bedrooms,” I reply, moving down the hallway.
The first door opens to a small bedroom with a neatly made bed, but it’s empty. The second door is the bathroom, also empty. The third is another bedroom, this one clearly used as storage with boxes stacked against the walls.
“All clear back here,” Brex calls. “But you’re gonna want to see this.”
Following the sound of his voice, I find him standing at the back door.
Sidling up beside him, what I see next makes me gasp. Where there should be a backyard, there’s nothing but mud. A massive pile stretching at least twenty feet from the back of the cabin has also crept around to the side, swallowing half of what looks to be a garden. Or it was.
“Shit,” I mutter, stepping outside to get a better look. The mud has claimed the entire back and side yards, but thankfully, the cabin itself seems structurally sound. “At least the building wasn’t damaged.”
“Small miracles,” Brex agrees, pulling out his radio. “Dispatch, this is Saint. We’ve reached the cabin over on Copper Pass. No occupants found. Mudslide affected back and side yards. Structure appears intact. No injuries to report.”
“Copy,” comes the response. “Continue sweep.”
“Will do. Saint, out.” Brex clips the radio back to his belt. “Guess we keep moving. We’ve still got two cabins left to check before we can head back.”
I nod, giving the pile of sludge one last wary glance before heading back inside. When we reach the front door, a photo sitting on the sideboard catches my eye. An elderly couple is standing on the porch steps of what looks to be this same cabin, smiling at the camera.
“Think they’re okay?” I ask, gesturing to the photo.
Brex follows my gaze. “Probably evacuated when the alert went out. Most people in these remote areas tend to have contingencies in place.”
I hope he’s right. Just the thought of someone being trapped under all that mud and debris makes my stomach churn.
Quickly doing a sweep of the cabin’s perimeter to make sure we haven’t missed anything, we head back into the trees. The mud has changed the landscape dramatically, creating new gullies. Even shifting the trail in some places.
The deeper we go, the more treacherous the terrain becomes, forcing us to navigate around large chunks of trees that have been ripped from the ground. At one point, we have to scramble over a couple of massive boulders that obviously weren’t there before, their surfaces slick with mud and rain.
“Nice and easy,” Brex grunts, reaching up to steady me as I climb down from the second boulder.
“Thanks.” The further we walk, the heavier my bag gets. But the last thing I’m going to do is complain. This is what I signed up for.
Maybe it’s about time I start using the stair climber at Summit Studio.
We’re about fifty yards from the next cabin when a sudden, sharp, splintering crack cuts through the air.
“Look out!” Brex shouts.
I spin around just as a massive pine tree behind us starts to fall.
Time slows to a crawl. The tree tilts, roots tearing from the saturated earth with a wet, sucking sound. My feet refuse to move, frozen in terror as the massive trunk hurtles through the air.