High Heat Read online

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  Grandma’s neighbor was hot. Like distractingly so, with broad shoulders and biceps for days coupled with a movie-star-worthy face—chiseled features and piercing green eyes and shaggy hair that danced between dirty blond and light brown. But Rain was supposed to be focusing on the dog, not Garrick, and on driving through a town he’d only visited a couple of times since his grandmother moved. She refused to call it a retirement, but buying a house had been her admitting that maybe her years on the art festival circuit were coming to a halt, and providing her fabric crafts to a nearby touristy place was more her current speed.

  “So you visiting for the weekend?” Garrick asked as Rain followed his phone’s GPS directions toward downtown.

  “No, I’m supposed to be here for a couple of months. I took the spring term off college, thought I might see what seasonal work I could find around here, help Grandma out at the same time.”

  “That sounds nice. I’m sure she could use the hand.”

  “Eh. She’s like her dog—rather territorial about her place. It was my mom’s idea, so we’ll see if it sticks.” Rain did love Grandma, but so far she hadn’t let him anywhere near her sewing machine or dye buckets so he wasn’t sure how much help he was actually going to be. “I had an interview this morning for a bartender gig—that’s why I’m dressed up—but I don’t think I passed it.”

  “Oh?” Garrick didn’t sound judgmental, merely curious.

  “Yeah. It’s the clubhouse at the golf course south of town. I didn’t know half the drinks they quizzed me on, and they asked how I felt about a haircut.”

  “Ouch.” Garrick laughed. “Yeah, don’t do that. Keep looking. Plenty of other seasonal jobs.”

  “You’d know, right? I thought Grandma said you were a smoke jumper?”

  “Yep.” Garrick didn’t seem inclined to elaborate, instead looking out the window, and Rain couldn’t blame him—he’d get the scoop from Grandma about Garrick’s injuries rather than bug him for gory details he probably didn’t want to share.

  “That’s cool. I’ve got some applications in with the forest service and other places since some of my classes were pre-fire academy. I didn’t get a slot for this year though, hence taking a term off.” He kept his voice casual. The Portland Fire Academy was notoriously competitive, so he was trying hard not to take it too personally, but man it had hurt to not even make the short list of applicants who would be considered for fall placements. Oh well. On to the next adventure.

  “You can park up here.” Garrick pointed to a lot next to a brick building with a cheerful sign with dogs and cats on it. “And don’t let it get you down, kid. Don’t give up on the dream.”

  Kid. Okay. So much for Hottie Neighbor. No one called him kid these days and got away with it. Quietly seething, he found the closest spot to the door. He might be irked, but he was still careful with the wheelchair and crutches as he unloaded them for Garrick.

  “Need my arm?” He knew better than to hover, but still wanted to make the offer if Garrick needed assistance.

  “Nah. I’ve got it.” Garrick smoothly transferred from the car to the chair, then waited for Rain to unload the dog. “That’s a good girl.” Garrick stuck out his hand and this time the dog sniffed it, even without a treat. She seemed to be warming up to both of them, even though she was noticeably skittish as they approached the door. Once inside, she plopped down, almost like she was trying to hide behind them.

  “Now, who do we have here?” A receptionist in kitten-print scrubs and pink glasses peered over her desk at them. Garrick explained about finding the dog, and the receptionist nodded sympathetically. “It shouldn’t be too long a wait for the vet. I’ll need a name for her though, just to start a chart.”

  “Name?” Garrick looked over at Rain like he might have the answer, which was nice, being consulted like that. Usually take-charge guys like Garrick didn’t slow down long enough to solicit other opinions. Which Rain had.

  “If they can’t find an owner, you want her to have a great shot at adoption. Pick something fun and gentle for her maybe? Approachable? She looks all tough, big black dog, but really she’s almost shy. Aren’t you, sweetie?”

  As if she knew she was being talked about, the dog crept forward to nose at the treat bag Rain was holding.

  “No, you can’t have another cookie,” he said firmly.

  “Cookie.” Garrick smiled, and it was a great smile, wide and welcoming, the sort belonging to an easy charmer who probably had tons of friends. “That’s it. At least we know she’ll come to that. And you can put my address for now.”

  After the intake information was handled, they were shown to a little room with a window facing a garden and a cheery mural on the wall.

  “You and your son can wait in here while I take Cookie for her weight and temperature,” the receptionist said to Garrick, making Rain snort. The dude wasn’t that old. Midthirties maybe. His messy hair and facial scruff made him look older, but he didn’t have any gray yet. For himself, Rain was used to looking young. Probably one of the reasons the bartender gig had fallen through. The manager guy had sounded like he didn’t trust Rain to not be slipping drinks to underage buddies.

  “Not the son. Just another neighbor,” Rain said quickly before she could leap to her next assumption that Garrick was the sugar daddy with the credit cards. Not that Rain would necessarily mind, but this was a small town, and Garrick had “sports-loving dude bro” written all over him.

  “Ah. Well, Cookie is lucky to have you both. I’ll check on a microchip while we’re in the back.”

  “Man, I hope she’s got the microchip and a nice owner on file,” Garrick said as the receptionist and Cookie left, leaving Rain to take one of the seats in the room.

  “Yeah, she’s a great dog.” Personally, Rain didn’t have as much hope of an owner—no collar, and despite a sturdy build the dog looked like she hadn’t had a good meal in a few days.

  “So, tell me about these firefighting classes you were taking. What certs do you have?” Garrick asked like he actually cared about the answer and not like he was just looking to kill time. Which made Rain give him a real answer, one that kept them talking about his rather eclectic collection of community college classes until a vet tech brought Cookie back.

  The tech was followed by a woman around Garrick’s age who had to be the vet, judging by the stethoscope around her neck. “I have good news and bad news,” the vet said as she shut the door behind her. Cookie now sported a white mitt on her paw and a shaved patch around the scrape on her side, but seemed in good spirits. “Which do you want first?”

  “Good,” Rain said, right as Garrick said, “Bad.”

  “Okay. Both it is.” The vet laughed. She had kind eyes and short dark hair, and Cookie was already nuzzling up to her, looking for treats. “Well, no microchip for one. No lost dog calls here either. But good news—she’s been spayed and other than a large thorn in her paw and the scrape on her side, she’s pretty healthy. I’d guess she’s a year or two old. We’ve cleaned her wounds, and she’ll need to keep the mitt on her paw for a couple of days. I’d like to do a round of antibiotics because the side scrape did look somewhat infected to me, but that’s largely out of caution.”

  “What’s the rest of the bad news?” Garrick sounded like a guy who had heard more than his share of it over the years, not reacting to the better news about Cookie’s health beyond stretching out a hand for her to warily sniff again.

  “I’m assuming you’re hoping to get her off your hands, but our kennel is full of patients who need overnight care. Lydia called the shelter in Bend, and they’re full as well, including foster homes that could handle an injured animal. They can stick a picture of her up on the found page, but they’re not sure they can get her a place before they close tonight. A number of the rescues are in a similar boat—either they’re very breed-and size-specific or they are
n’t taking new animals right now. I’ll be honest—her size and her breeds along with the injuries are going to make her a tough placement, especially on a weekend.”

  “Heck.” Wide shoulders deflating, Garrick studied his hands, which left Rain to pet Cookie.

  “I can work on Grandma. Maybe by Monday, her owners will be found.”

  “She said no,” Garrick reminded him. “And she’s got the other dogs to think about. It makes sense. My friends in the country would be good, but they just added a third dog. I doubt they’re going to be up for one more already. I can see who else might be able to help.”

  “How about you?” Rain turned on the sort of smile that usually brought him good luck.

  “Me?” Garrick blinked.

  “Yes, you. You’d be perfect.” Nodding, he leaned forward, waiting for Garrick to embrace the obvious.

  Chapter Two

  “Perfect?” Garrick echoed Rain, only with a lot more skepticism. He wasn’t sure which set of pleading big brown eyes was worse, Cookie’s or Rain’s.

  “Yes. She likes you. And you don’t have any other pets, right? No one else to ask permission from? It’s perfect.”

  “Sure, no other pets and I live alone, but she’s scared of me.”

  “Oh, at first, maybe.” Rain waved this concern away with a flick of his long elegant fingers.

  “She’s a sweetie,” the vet added, nodding along. “A few more biscuits and head scratches, and she’ll be your new best friend. A lot of dogs are skittish around wheelchairs at first, but then they warm up.”

  “Maybe so, and I’m not unsympathetic to her situation.” He really wasn’t, and the old him would have likely given in to the twin set of puppy-dog eyes directed his way. “However, in case you didn’t notice, I’m kinda...mobility impaired these days. And unlike Shirley’s, my backyard is hardly suitable for a dog.”

  “I have an answer for that.” Rain held up a hand, stopping Garrick’s list of reasons why this was a bad idea.

  “Somehow I’m not surprised.”

  “As good as she listens, I’m going to bet she’s at least somewhat housebroken. I can come walk her twice a day. And help you dog-proof today. I’ll give you my cell—you can call if she has an accident or spills water or something and you need me.”

  “I’m not sure—”

  “I’d take the bet on her being housebroken,” the vet said, voice as coaxing as Rain’s. “I can have Lydia give you a bag of kibble to get started, and I’ll prorate our services for the wound cleanup.”

  “Just until the owner is found?” Neck muscles tensing, Garrick already knew he was beat.

  “Yup.” Rain nodded like the Blazers bobblehead Garrick kept in the truck he hadn’t driven in months.

  “Only the weekend,” Garrick allowed. “And we’ll try hard to find her owners or a more permanent place for her.”

  “Deal.” Rain grinned widely, and damn, that was the kind of smile that Garrick would promise a heck of a lot more than canine babysitting for. Warmth spread across Garrick’s chest as Rain continued, “What do you say we find the pet store?”

  “Ha.” Garrick had to laugh again at his big city assumptions. “We don’t even have any of the big box stores in town. But the feed store will have food and stuff.”

  “Good. And maybe a bed—”

  “The weekend. Only,” Garrick reminded him.

  “Sounds like we have a plan.” The vet hustled them to the front before Garrick could offer more protests. He paid the nominal fee while the vet tech presented him with meds and a small sack of kibble. Judging by how hungry Cookie looked, he figured that wouldn’t last more than a feeding or two.

  “Add more chow to the list,” he told Rain on the way to the car. “Same brand if possible. We don’t want to overly shock her system.”

  “You know dogs?” As before, Rain hung back, letting Garrick transfer himself to the car before taking care of loading up the wheelchair and dog.

  “Oh yeah. Like I said, my friends have a trio now. And growing up, we had a sweet little terrier with a fickle stomach. Mom took her in the divorce.” The memory made his stomach churn, even all these years later. “Then Dad got a cranky beagle who ate like a goat.” That memory was easier, and he made himself laugh, keep his voice light. Rain didn’t need to hear about his family drama. “Now he’s got two old grumpy farm dogs who tolerate horses far better than humans or other dogs. I’m not an expert or anything, but I’ve been around them plenty.”

  “Good. A lot of people get scared of big black dogs like her. I don’t get it, but I’ve seen people cross the street to avoid certain breeds.”

  “Like your grandma. But before you go pleading Cookie’s case to me again, I’m sure there’s a home somewhere out there for her.” Not Garrick. He couldn’t afford the distraction of a permanent pet, not when he needed all his focus for his recovery, and not when he wasn’t sure what kind of life he could provide himself, let alone an animal.

  “Fair enough.” Rain sounded neither convinced nor like he was going to drop the subject more than temporarily. “Now, tell me how to get to this farm store place.”

  Garrick gave the directions to the feed store a couple of blocks over. As Rain drove, Garrick fished out his wallet, emptied his cash. “Tell you what. Cookie and I will wait in the car. You’ve got a sixty-eight dollar budget to get her set for the weekend.”

  “That might be enough for chow and a cheap bed,” Rain said happily, almost dancing in his seat, and damn if making him happy wasn’t fun and worth parting with the money.

  “Try to get a few toys too. I don’t want her chewing my couch.”

  “You’ve got it.” Rain deftly parked next to a line of pickups at the farm store. He opened the windows before he shut off the SUV. “You sure you don’t want to come in? It’s no problem getting your chair out and we can crack all the windows for Cookie.”

  “Nah.” Garrick wasn’t about to explain that simply this amount of exertion had done him in for a while. Damn he missed his stamina. “She needs me to keep her company. You have fun. If you can’t find something, Morty at customer service is a friend of my dad’s. Great guy. He’ll help you track down the chow or whatever.”

  And maybe that too was why he was staying put. He didn’t need another round of questioning from well-meaning folks who’d known him his whole life, sympathy a double-edged sword he’d had far too much of the past several months. But it turned out there was no escaping his life as not even five minutes after Rain walked away, he heard a familiar voice.

  “Nelson? Been a long time, man.” Jimenez, one of his fellow smoke jumpers, came striding over, pretty blonde in skintight jeans trailing behind him. He was one of the rookies—

  Wait. Not a rookie anymore. The new season was about to start. Jimenez would be an old hand by now, working all the fires Garrick had missed after the accident, all the jumps and climbs and everything else he missed with all his soul but couldn’t show. Keep it light, he reminded himself.

  “Hey there. Yeah, been a while. How’s it going? Getting lots of jumps in? Heard you did some tourist work in the off-season.”

  “You know it. Gotta get my air time.” Slinging an arm around his companion, Jimenez gave him an easy smile that faded into something approaching concern. “We miss you, man. Feels weird gearing up for the season without you. What’s the latest word on when you’ll be back at it?”

  Wish I knew. Garrick swallowed hard. “Hopefully not long. I’m working hard at PT. Putting my reps in. Finally back home at my own place. Progress, you know?”

  “That’s great.” Jimenez’s voice was just this side of too hearty. “You keep at it. Chin up. I’m sure they’re saving a spot for you. And if you need anything, anything at all, you call me.”

  Call me. Everyone said it, but he was never sure how much people meant it. Like he and Jimenez had never hung ou
t off-duty before the accident. Was he supposed to call him for a favor now? Did the guy really want to fetch Garrick some groceries or was he simply being nice? Not knowing made Garrick frustrated with these sorts of offers, but he couldn’t show it, could only nod. “Thanks.”

  “Okay, dog stuff obtained!” Rain came striding toward the car, wide smile still in place as he pushed a cart with a big bag of chow and a fluffy pet bed a ridiculous shade of bubblegum pink. Some of his hair had come loose, curls spilling down his face. In the sunlight, the shimmer on his shirt was more evident, making him look ready for clubbing, not a farm store.

  And Jimenez, the worst gossip on the crew, went all bug-eyed. “You getting a dog?”

  “Meet Cookie. She’s temporary. And this is Rain. My neighbor.” Garrick refused to get flustered over any assumptions Jimenez wanted to make. And it wasn’t like Jimenez, who had a well-earned rep as the worst sort of love-them-and-leave-them player, was in any position to judge who Garrick hung around with.

  “Ah. Gotcha.” Jimenez shook Rain’s hand before his companion tugged on his arm, reminding him of their errand for flowers. “We’ll catch up later. And I mean it, Nelson. You call me. Can’t wait to see you back out there.”

  “Me too.” Garrick nodded even as he knew the chances of him calling Jimenez were slim. And as for getting back on the crew...well, he was trying. Every damn day. A little further. A little faster. He’d hadn’t come this far to fail.

  “Sorry if I cut short your conversation with your friend,” Rain said as he loaded his purchases next to Cookie.

  “Nah. It’s okay. I’m sure he needed to get on with his day.”

  “Is it...” Rain started to ask something then trailed off as he slid behind the wheel.

  “Is what?”

  “Nothing. I was going to ask if it was hard, being around other smoke jumpers right now, then realized that was really nosy of me.”