"That doesn't count!"
Both brothers laughed. Seeing them side by side, it was too easy to tell them apart. Not only because of their different features and Wyatt's longer hair, but in their mannerisms. Both had a predatory edge to them, but if I had to assign them animals, I would've said Wyatt was more like a panther, smooth and sleek, while Nash was a lion: courageous, strong, and king of all he saw.
"I'm not sure what we should do now," Nash said, letting his head spin as he took in the rest of the place. "I expected there to be some actual customers."
The place was empty, but in Wyatt's defense, Nash had forced him to unlock the doors.
"It's eleven in the morning, bro. You don't want to meet the people who—"
Just then, the bell over the door rang, and Wyatt's voice brightened. "Come on in, Tony! What took you so long?"
Tony was an older, wider gentleman who took a seat at the bar top and grunted. Wyatt understood that to mean he wanted a pint and set it down in front of him.
He seemed a nice enough fellow, but I didn't want to practice my flirting on him. "Maybe I can try on Wyatt?" I suggested.
Instantly, Wyatt appeared with a devilish smirk. "Did someone say they need me?" I wasn't sure if it was his longer hair or just his attitude that made him seem younger than Nash. Sillier and more approachable as well.
"No, we don't," Nash replied sharply. He looked from the gentleman at the counter and then back at me. "We'll table that lesson for next time."
"You don't have to," Wyatt insisted, sliding into the seat next to mine. "I don't mind."
Nash must have kicked his chair from under the table because there was a bang that made my fries jump, and then Wyatt's chair toppled to the side. He caught himself before he even looked like he was about to fall. "Fine! Jeez! I'm telling Nana that you—"
The phone at Nash's waist rang sharply, the tone of the ring making me feel like it was urgent call. He looked at the screen. "Shit. There's a fire at the old pumphouse…"
"That's next to pack lands," Wyatt said, all humor gone.
Pack lands? Did he mean like how people used to live in clans?
"It's big. They're worried it will spread through the forest. I have to go. They're calling us all in."
Outside, sirens wailed. "Go. I'll walk home."
"Or he can stay here with me," Wyatt said, leaning in and batting his eyes.
I grinned and rolled my eyes, but Nash didn't look happy. "Do you mind waiting in the car? You won't be in any danger," he added like he would personally see to it.
I hadn't realized that was an option. "I'd love to watch! From a safe distance, of course. People won't mind?"
"I'd like to see someone try to make you leave," Wyatt mumbled. He didn't look too put-out that his suggestions had all been turned down.
I followed Nash to the door, and he held it open for me to go through first. "See you at home," he called over his shoulder to Wyatt.
Before I could step fully out of the way onto the sidewalk, a cop car pulled up, the driver rolling down his window. "You get the call, Walker?" the cops said to Nash.
"Hey, Jake. Just now. We're heading up."
The officer's gaze flicked to me and back. "New fireman?"
"Something like that."
He nodded. "Need a ride to your car?"
We'd driven in his car from the gym to here. "Nah, we'll see you there."
We hurried to his vehicle, and I slipped in, buckling my seatbelt. We weren't in a firetruck, and there were no sirens, but I was still as excited as I'd been as a kid when firemen would whiz by on the street. The rush, the importance, knowing that life and death might linger in the balance—it was infectious, and I found myself as excited to see the scene as I was to keep hanging out with Nash. I knew there was a level of danger, but with Nash with me, it was like I was protected.
How was I supposed to ever walk away from this feeling?
Chapter Seven
Nash
By the time I made it on scene, Phin was vibrating with excitement. Until now, he hadn't given me the idea that this sort of thing excited him. In fact, knowing what I did now about his parents, I wouldn't have expected this sort of response. But I'd been unwilling to leave Phin with Wyatt.
I trusted Wyatt with my life. Phin's safety wasn't the issue. I just knew how persuasive my twin could be. I relied more on my charm and physical appeal, but Wyatt could sweet-talk a shark out of his supper. And Phin and I were still too new. There wasn't even a Phin and I yet. There was just a Phineas and a me.
"There they are!" he shouted with excitement, pointing through the windshield while Krat and Paster operated the water tanker and hose.
Jake Maslow, Walkerton's sheriff, was there, first having changed into his volunteer fireman gear. Most of the police doubled as fire personnel. We were too tiny of a town to have feuds between the two. If the fire did get out of hand and we needed more help, it would take time hauling and shipping everyone and everything in. It looked like they had the fire under control. I still parked and got into my gear, pointing out the safety perimeter to Phin before I rushed to the chief.
"Grab an ax and help the newbie clear out that brush."
The pumphouse looked like a lost cause. It hadn't been in use for decades anyway. But there were blackberries and other bushes growing in around it. Isolating the fire and removing possible fuel was my new priority.
I gave the new guy, Charles, a nod before getting to work. Krat and Paster had already soaked the outside of the pumphouse, and while I couldn't see any flames from inside, dark smoke billowed from every crack. Sheriff Maslow had one of the smaller foam extinguishers and used it to put out the smaller fires that had started around the original.
Without slowing down the task at hand, I checked on Phin every couple of minutes. He never tried to get any closer than the boundary I'd established, and after about fifteen minutes, I found I enjoyed knowing he was there, watching me work.
Maybe I should take off my shirt.
"Friend of yours?" Charles grunted. "He was at that party. Thanks for the invite, by the way."
I'd invited the guys from the station, and he'd come, but I wasn't going to point that out. "No problem. How's the transition? I imagine we're a smaller station than what you're used to." I spun my ax around, using the tapered end to hook a chunk of brambles and rip it from the ground.
"I like the change in pace. And the scenery can't be beat." He looked up into the forest and frowned, drawing my gaze.
He couldn't have seen the shifters skirting just out of sight, but he likely sensed them. I sensed, saw, and—now that the wind had changed direction—smelled them coming. Instantly, I searched for Phineas, finding him the same place he'd stood this whole time. He saw me looking and waved, before thinking twice about the motion and blushing.
He was so fucking adorable.
And I didn't want the pack anywhere near him.
I didn't think whoever was in the woods would come closer. They were probably just checking out the commotion. The pumphouse rode the boundary line. The Lynx River that separated the rest of the island from the pack side wound around at this section, cutting deeper into pack lands.