There was no ability to talk. I wanted to move back to give Mike space, but there was no room with the aluminum seat against my spine. Mike pulled me against him, cradling the back of my head in his hand, and held me until I stopped coughing. I lay there, weak and afraid and yet strangely at peace. There was nothing more to be done. Either we'd survive or we wouldn't, though I was pretty sure we'd be okay on the lake. And I was with Pops, and Mike, the two people I wanted to be with. I was lucky.
It was so eerie on the lake as the canoe rocked in the water. The only sound was the fire, which was loud. It sounded like a train or a skyscraper being demolished. I squeezed my eyes shut and let myself slump against Mike.
His fireman's jacket was open and my face pressed against his T-shirt. I couldn't smell a damn thing—my nose was so stuffed up from the smoke, but I could feel. I felt the firm muscles of his chest, the damp heat of him. I felt the tenderness in the way he cradled my head with his large hand.
Like he cared for me. Like he was protecting me.
I clung to that as the fire roared through the state park. Even being out on the water, the smoke, the radiant heat, the sounds, were terrifying. Being in the canoe was like taking shelter in a bathtub while a tornado dismantled your house. I couldn't look up and didn't want to. I buried my face into Mike's chest as much as I could while still breathing through my mask. I reached behind me with my hand, and Pops took it and held it hard.
And that was how we waited for the world to stop burning.
Chapter six
Mike
Being in the middle of a massive fire was not what I would have expected. I didn't see much of anything. Thick smoke, thick as cotton gauze, shrouded the lake and kept us pinned to the bottom of the canoe where there was at least a reservoir of cleaner air. That and the heat. Even away from the shore, it was intense. The boat was coolest where it sat in the water—the bottom. We were well and truly pinned down.
I worried about Shane and Pops. People died of smoke inhalation more easily than you'd think. Tony had been hospitalized for it once, and my dad a few times. I hoped everyone else out there was okay too—all the people in the other boats, those standing in the water, or on that floating dock at the beach. But there was nothing I could do except hold on. So I held Shane and waited for it to be over.
I’m holding Shane.
It had just happened. I wanted to keep him safe, and that was the best I could do. But whatever it was or wasn't doing for Shane, it was doing a hell of a lot for me. The guys I'd been with were mostly one-and-done. I'd never had a boyfriend. It would be hard what with not being out to my family and all. And my family had their nose in everything, so I'd been super paranoid about being caught. This was the first time I'd ever just held a guy.
It felt amazing. He fit against me in all the right places and in the best ways. As we lay there, with danger all around us, I thought that if I was going to die, I could do worse than to die like this, holding Shane. Better yet, we needed to live so I could get him to go out with me. We'd go somewhere, anywhere he wanted, and have a real date. I'd never wanted that with someone, but I wanted it with Shane. He'd be fun to be with—like at an amusement park or movie or just a restaurant. His personality was entertaining. He was funny and blunt and real. And he was someone worth dating, someone I wanted to be around for more than just a quickie.
I held that thought in my mind, and Shane in my arms, while I waited for the fire to pass us by.
Maybe I dozed. Smoke can do that to you. When I opened my eyes, Shane was still against my chest, but he'd pulled back enough to watch me. Damn, those bright blue eyes were even more beautiful than I'd thought the first time I'd seen him. And they were still mostly clear—just a little pink around the edges.
"You must have a picture in your attic, like Dorian Gray," I said, my voice raspy.
He gave me a worried look. "Are you hallucinating?"
I shook my head. "Your eyes are as clear as the first time I saw you."
He smiled behind the mask, but a confused frown appeared between his brows. He coughed and croaked, "You noticed my eyes?" And then, as if realizing he was lying all over me, his forehead went pink and he pushed back. "Sorry. I— Sorry."
He thought I was straight. Aw, that was cute. But was I really that hard to read? Then again, we'd been in mortal danger pretty much since we met. So maybe he'd been distracted. Or, more likely, my thoughts had been locked up inside my own head, and he had no clue.
I tugged him back against my chest. "Where you goin'?"
His eyes widened. "Um. I thought…."
I raised my eyebrows.
"Straight guys don't like gay guys lying on top of them?" He raised his voice at the end like a question.
"Hmm. Is that right?" I mused. "I've never lain against a straight guy."
It took him a second, but then his eyes lit up with excitement and outrage. "You bastard."
"What? It never came up."
"You could have said something on the drive. Me being obviously, well, me!"
"Like what, hello, fellow gays?" I imitated Steve Buscemi.
Shane laughed, coughed, and laughed some more. "Yes! My gaydar completely choked on you."
Speaking of choking, Shane went into a coughing fit. The wind that had fanned the fire was now dispersing the smoke fast, but we'd inhaled a lot.
"Shhh." I pulled him back close to me.
He tensed but then relaxed. It had a different feeling this time. It was charged everywhere his body touched mine, and where his chest was against my ribs, I swore I could feel his nipples. I was getting a major hard-on, which was useless in a canoe—with Shane's grandfather no less. But he felt so good, I couldn't make myself pull away just yet.
I felt him tug on my mask. I opened my eyes. He'd lowered his own mask and by the soft, sultry look in his eyes, I knew what he wanted. I swallowed hard. Why not? We'd survived something terrible today. We deserved this. He lifted his chin and I kissed him.
There, on Crest Lake, I kissed Shane Bower—for the first time, but hopefully not the last.
He tasted like smoke, and both our mouths were a little dry, but it was still the best damn kiss I'd ever had in my life. Sweet lust rolled through me, and I wanted to kiss him forever.
I attempted to roll him over, but there was a seat in the way and I banged my foot on the side of the boat.
"I'm not dead, you know," Pops said loudly, if raspily.
Yeah, that was a cold dash of water. I pulled away from Shane abruptly. He gave me a naughty little grin, like we'd been caught, which made me smile too.
"Sorry, Mr. Bower," I said sheepishly.
"Gonna have to wash my eyeballs," Pops complained. "But since you saved my life, I'll call it even."
Shane sat up and glanced around. His eyes went wide. I hesitated, afraid to look. What if people were hurt or dead? I didn't think I could handle it. But Shane didn't appear horrified, so I reluctantly sat up too. All around us, people were visible in their boats or in the water. Some scooped water from the lake to pour over themselves or their canoes. Others held on to family members or just looked around, shell-shocked. Everyone appeared to be okay. On shore, the rental shack was completely gone and the dock and aluminum canoe racks were damaged. Cars and trucks still burned in the parking lot, blackened and twisted. The woods beyond were gone except for the charcoal skeletons of trees and smoke. And everywhere, embers still burned and smoke still rose from the ruins.