Me too. Then, right on the heels of that, I received, I didn’t notice. You got a grill on that deck?
Yes.
After Watershed, we’ll hit Park Plaza for lunch and pick up some beer. We’ll go to the store after that. You do sides, I’ll grill meat.
Sounds great.
Up for a kayak Sunday?
Ohmigod!
Totally!
I loved kayaking!
You bet.
You got your own, or do you rent when you go? Cause I got an extra.
Hmm.
Was that extra kayak Peri’s?
I didn’t ask.
I texted, I have my own.
Course you do. My girl wouldn’t rent a fucking kayak.
His girl.
My belly flipped.
See you tomorrow, babe, he said.
Yeah. Have a good night.
You too. Have fun with your girls.
Will do.
I thought that was the end of it.
But it wasn’t.
Rix sent another text.
You get drunk, you call me, Alexandra. I’ll come get you, them, I don’t care. Take you all home. Even if it’s late. Yeah?
Yep.
Peri was so stupid.
We won’t get drunk, I assured him.
Shit happens. Call me.
Kate sometimes has to be up and working by four, so we won’t get drunk.
What I’m saying is, you’re free to let loose. Enjoy yourself. I got your back. So if you decided to do that CALL ME.
Okay.
Maybe it was me who was stupid for being involved in this, because eventually, I wouldn’t even be able to pretend he was mine.
I’ll call you.
Promise.
I promise.
Go have fun.
Later.
He sent the sunglasses emoji.
I grinned at my phone, inspiration struck, and I sent the blushing-smiley-face emoji.
To which he sent the heart-kiss emoji.
Yes.
The heart-kiss emoji.
Lord.
My belly melted, and I could feel my grin change.
Then I came back to the room.
Dave and Murphy were gone, all the lights were out, and Gal and Katie were standing at the opened front door, staring at me.
“Rix is down to meet for drinks with you guys,” I shared.
“I bet he is,” Gal drawled, a knowing look on her face.
Whatever.
Katie giggled, a happy look on her face.
Whatever.
“Let’s go eat,” I said.
Then I pushed through them and walked out the door.
Chapter 10
The Story
Alex
Friday night, I pulled up the side drive at Rix’s place and parked behind his truck, which was under an overhang that came off the side of his house.
He had a place a few blocks northeast of downtown Prescott, super close to where our new office was, maybe only five blocks away.
I was not surprised to see it was a small crackerbox house, painted white with black trim, though the front door had a big window, around which it’d been painted barn red.
I was also not surprised to see the yard was exceptionally well taken care of and beautifully landscaped, with clusters of aspen trees, thick tufts of spiky ornamental grass around the front steps, and there were two large trees on either side that had to be at least forty years old. Their canopy was wide and covered the entire house, and as such, undoubtedly threw much-needed shade.
Though, they also served to make the whole space seem settled and safe, an oasis that had sat there for a long time, and hopefully would remain there a lot longer.
I grabbed the bottle of wine and the six-pack of Goose Island Stout, which Rix had told me was his favorite, and got out of my car.
I then walked up to the door, noting his porch décor was two deep-swayback, dark wicker bucket chairs, in which it would be impossible to sit in without slouching, so they looked amazingly comfortable. The table between them was a sawed-off log, upturned on the end.
Rix also had a string of lights that swooped across his porch, as well as trailed out above the front yard on a diagonal to a big tree on the corner of his property, then trailed back, forming a triangle.
It was simple.
And totally rad.
I could see on summer nights and winter mornings, sitting on that porch, sipping wine or coffee (respectively), keeping an eye on the quiet neighborhood and waving at neighbors as they drove past.
I hit the doorbell, but even so, I saw inside.
And at that, I was surprised.
Wood paneling on the side wall, in front of which was a light-blue twill couch flanked by somewhat large, square end tables. A coffee table before that, two armchairs facing it. Gleaming wood floors that looked like real oak. An attractive area rug under all of that which was in a traditional jagged edge Southwestern design in the colors of light blue, dark blue, white and peach.
At the end of this, there was a partial wall of brick, which included a fireplace, and above it, a large, mounted TV.
There was a wall of windows to the other side, which gave him a view of more grasses and the trunk of his shade tree.
At the back, to the side, beyond the partial wall, I saw a rectangular dining room table, four chairs, two on each side.
Beyond the partial wall, I couldn’t see and didn’t try, because Rix had rounded it and was walking toward me at the door.
My mind had been skirting around the thoughts that Rix’s attractive, airy space had been put together by or with Peri.
But it skirted that no longer when I caught sight of him.
I’d never known him with legs, so I didn’t know what his gait used to be like.
And there was definitely a hitch in his step, no escaping it, even if it was minimal.
However, I figured the sexy sway of those lean hips had always been there.
He’d changed from the crisp cargos and button-down he wore to work to very faded jeans and an equally faded tee that used to be navy blue, had a white insignia over the heart with some bars under it and beneath that, it said Prescott Fire/Medical.
On the left arm, there was a yellow circle.
In it was the number 19.
Seeing that, a chill slid across the small of my back, like it always did at the reminder of the nineteen Granite Mountain Hotshot firefighters who died in the Yarnell Fire. Something I assumed in one way or another was what happened to anyone in Prescott or Prescott Valley who was reminded of those men who lost their lives in 2013, one of the worst losses of men in firefighter history, obviously not including 9/11.
During my crush days, I’d done my research through what I hoped were not telling or inappropriate questions to Judge. But Judge had offered up the information that that was before Rix’s time as a Hotshot.
He’d become one right after that tragedy.
And then he’d had his own tragedy.
He opened the door and stood in it.
I stared up at him. “Hey.”
His lips twitched. “Hey.”
Okay, right, in this scenario, what would a fiancée do?
I had to break the seal on this, and I feared if I didn’t now, it would be never.
So I got closer to him.
He didn’t move.
I leaned even closer to him.
He bent his neck, holding my gaze.
My heart slid up and lodged firmly in my throat as I rolled up on my toes.
Something happened in his caramel eyes that triggered something happening between my legs, so although I was aiming at his mouth, in the end, I panicked and brushed mine softly against the side of his.