Rekindled (6 page)

“Right.”

Turning my face toward the spray, I quickly lather soap all over my body and rinse off. A group of guys walk in just as I’m stepping out.

“Hey, man, how’s that wedgie feeling?” I tease as I slap Chris, one of the rookies on the back. During our jump today, he miscalculated and wound up getting his parachute caught in a tree. Luckily, it wasn’t on fire or he might not be smiling the way he is now.

“Can’t complain. Most action my ass has seen all week. This town’s got a lot of great things, water sports, restaurants, and bars, but hot gay men are not one of them.”

“You’re coming into town with us tonight, right?” I ask, as more of the squad filters into the bathroom.

“Liquor, a live band and steak? What do you think?” Chris responds with a toothy grin.

“Count me in!” Ramon calls from one of the stalls.

“Me too. I’ve been dreaming about a big fat baked potato with sour cream, chives, butter, bacon and cheese all day. Wash it down with a nice cold beer,” Justin says while standing in front of the sink with his razor at his throat, and white foam all over his face. “You’re buyin’, right Tate?”

The guys laugh and I roll my eyes. “Please, I got a wedding I have to save up for, I don’t have the funds to pay for your drunk-asses.”

“That’s right, aren’t you telling your pops tonight that you got engaged?” Justin asks.

“Yeah. He’s meeting us down there with Jules and we’re going to tell him then.”

“She bringing any of her hot friends with her?” Ramon asks with a mischievous grin. “After spending the last eighteen hours surrounded by nothing but fire and dicks, I need something sweet and wet to sink into tonight.” He winks at Justin and they high-five.

“You’re a pig.” I shake my head.

“Hey man, we’re young and it’s summer—which means chicks in skimpy clothes looking for a good time. And who am I to deny them? After all, the women here are so pale, they could use a little color inside them.” He does a couple of thrusts while grunting, making the guys laugh.

“Yeah, yeah, finish getting washed up so we can get the fuck off base and go get some food.”

I head to my room and quickly finish drying before I throw on a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt. The rooms on base are small, but since I’m one of the few guys here that lives in town full time, I only have to spend nights here when I’m on duty. My nights off I usually spend over at Jules’ place until fire season is over, when I move back there permanently.

Some people think I’m crazy for dropping out of college my first quarter to become a fireman, but seven years ago when I left for South Carolina to be a fireman at my Uncle’s precinct, it felt like the right thing to do and I’ve never regretted it. Four years ago when my dad had a stroke, I moved back to Idaho and became a smoke jumper, where I could work half the year and spend the other half helping my dad take care of his mechanic shop. And it was a year and a half ago that Julia tumbled into my life. For the first time since I can remember, I’m actually happy.

Red’s Bar and Grille is a staple in our small town. In the middle of downtown, right between the Law Offices of Goldman and Stein, and a travel agency, it’s a single story brick building with a neon sign surrounded by blinking lights reminiscent of old-school Vegas. Inside is as unpretentious as the owner, Trista. Red faux-leather booths and cured wooden tables fill most of the space, with vintage-looking posters and American memorabilia hanging from the walls. To the right is a wide bar filled with every brand of liquor imaginable, and at the back of the room is a small stage where a band is singing about a bitch named Kelly while people twirl on the parquet wooden dance floor.

Hungry female eyes swing our way as we step into the restaurant. Not surprising considering there’s eight of us. Even without wearing our jump suits, it’s like the women who visit this town during season have some kind of smokejumper radar. It probably doesn’t hurt that due to the line of work we’re in, not a single one of us is out of shape, and aside from myself and Matt, the other guys are single and aren’t afraid to show it.

“Tate, darling,” a voice calls out, and I see a feminine hand shoot into the air, her gold bracelets gleaming beneath the dim overhead lights. “Over here.”

We snake our way through the tables until we arrive at the center one where Jules and my dad are sitting. I give my dad a quick hug, and kiss Jules while all the guys take a seat. The guys all say their hellos as Trista comes by with a stack of menus tucked beneath her arm and her tray braced against her hip.

“Well look what the cat dragged in.” She says with a wide grin, “How ya doin’, Tater Tot?”

I grimace. “You’re lucky I like you, Tris. Not even my dad gets away with calling me that.”

She laughs and places a hand on my shoulder. “Well, considering I’ve seen your bare ass in the bathtub, I think I’m entitled to call you whatever I damn well please.”

Jules’ eyebrow shoots up in amusement and I can hear the other guys snickering. Leaning back into my chair, I fold my arms across my chest and narrow my eyes at Trista. “I was three, and you were my babysitter. Dad told you to give me a bath.”

She shrugs and maneuvers around the table handing us each a menu. “Exactly, I’ve known you since you were just a teeny baby, and boy, the stories I could tell these guys about you.”

“Tris—”

“Oh, relax. I’m not here to embarrass you tonight. Just keep that in mind next time you give me a hard time about calling you Tater Tot.”

Trista’s a fifty-four-year young woman with thick black hair that hangs down to her waist, shaved eyebrows which she draws on each morning, and a bulbous nose which she keeps a gold horseshoe ring in. I never really saw the appeal in septum piercings, because it just makes me think of a bull every time I see one, but maybe for Trista that’s the point. At only five foot two, she’s short in stature, but what she lacks in height, she makes up for in attitude. Quick to anger, and with a penchant for guns, all the locals know she doesn’t take any shit in her restaurant, and those who aren’t local learn real fast not to piss her off. To outsiders, she probably would seem like the last person on earth who should be my Godmother. But she grew up with my dad, and has always treated us like family.

We place our orders, and when the food comes it takes all my self-control not to inhale it in one bite. On the job we keep energy bars and shit like that in our pack to keep us from starving, but none of that compares to a big-ass steak cooked medium rare with a glob of A-1 sauce and a baked potato on the side with all the fixings. Within ten minutes, our plates are cleaned and my dad and Jules are the only ones left eating.

“Jesus,” she says as she cuts a piece of her salmon. “You guys are like human Hoover vacuums. With the way you downed your food, you’d think they didn’t feed you over there at base.”

Ramon reclines in his seat and pats his belly before letting out a huge burp. “Ahhhh, tastes like steak.”

“Dude.” I shoot him a look.

“Sorry,” he mumbles from behind a grin. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I see a few ladies who look like they could use some company. Julia, Mr. Corbin, it’s been a pleasure.” He nods his head at them before scooting his chair back and standing.

A bunch of the other guys follow suit and stand and scatter around the room, leaving Jules, my dad and Matt.

My dad pushes broccoli around on his plate. “So, how was it today?”

“Took longer than we thought to put her down, but we got her.” Matt takes a pull from his beer, and a server swings by and places a new bottle in front of each of us.

“That’s good. Seems like lately these fires have been getting bigger and bigger, more frequent too.”

“Well, we’re lucky over here. So far it hasn’t been too bad this season.” I peel the label off my bottle. “The guys over in Redding have it worse. California’s in really bad shape and it doesn’t appear to be getting any better. We’ll probably get some calls to go over there at some point.”

“Right.” My dad glances back down at his food.

I know Dad is proud of me for making something of my life, but I can see the worry in his eyes whenever I talk about the fires. I try to reassure him that I’m perfectly safe, but that’s a lie and we all know it. Fire is unpredictable, which means there isn’t a day on the job where I don’t wonder if it will be my last. But despite the risks, I love what I do, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

“So anyway Dad,” I reach over and touch his hand. “Julia and I have some news that I think you’ll be really excited about.”

I glance over at Jules and smile when she places her hand on top of my thigh and gives it a quick squeeze.

“Oh?” He looks up at me.

“Can I tell him, honey?” Jules smile widens. I nod in response. Looking back at my dad, Jules leans forward and grabs his hand. “Johnny, Tate and I… We’re getting married!”

My dad’s bottom lip begins to tremble and his eyes become glassy, and for a minute I worry that we shouldn’t have told him. But then he claps his hands together before he pushes back from the table and stands up abruptly.

“Dad, are you okay?”

Dashing toward Jules, he throws his arms around her as a happy sob escapes his lips. He kisses her cheek before letting her go and moving toward me. He holds his arms open and I step into them like I would when I was just a little boy. Even though I dwarf him now, both in height and in muscle, there’s something protective in his hug. Like no matter how old he is or how frail he becomes, he will always fight to be my protector.

“God, Tate,” he says in my ear, his breath warm and slightly stale. “I’m so happy for you.” He pulls back a little and holds onto my arms while looking at me, as if seeing me for the first time before turning towards Jules. “For you both.” He shakes his head as if lost in a memory. “For the longest time, I wondered if I’d ever get to see you married. Knowing I would never get to walk my daughter down the aisle…” his voice cracks a little and I have to swallow the lump that’s forming in my throat. “And then with the dark path you were on… for so many years… I thought I’d lost you, too.”

“Dad, I…”

“No, please, let me finish.”

“You were so torn up about Rylee’s death, and then you lost your best friend on top of that when she moved away and married someone else.”

My breath hitches. It’s not that I don’t think about Callie, I think about her all the time, wondering what she’s doing and if she’s happy. But this is the first time my dad’s brought her up since she moved, and he found me blacked out on the beach. He had to call an ambulance to have my stomach pumped. I feel Julia step next to me and take my hand, and I wonder if hearing my dad talk about Callie is uncomfortable. She knows the basics of my past with Callie, but I’ve never told her about the last day I saw her. I want to, but it’s been seven years and thinking about that day still guts me, so I keep it to myself, hidden in the darkest parts of me.

“Anyway.” My dad swipes away a tear. “Tonight is a night to celebrate, not dredge up old memories.” He grabs his water glass and starts making his way toward the back of the restaurant, tugging me and Julia with him. When he reaches the stage he taps the lead singer on the shoulder, interrupting their song, and I have to stifle my smile when I see the confusion settle on the singer’s face. He’s obviously not used to being interrupted.

Tapping the microphone, feedback blares out of the speakers and people quickly put their hands to their ears until it dulls out. “Sorry about that,” my dad says, as he tilts the microphone down so that it’s right next to his mouth. “Hello, everyone. For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Johnny Corbin, and this here as you may know is my son, Tate. Many of you know him as the smoke jumper who keeps our town from being engulfed by flames. But tonight, my son and his beautiful girlfriend gave me some amazing news, and I wanted to share it with you all. Tonight, I found out that my son is engaged to be married!”

Cheers and hooting erupts from the crowd while a few of the guys from the crew start drumming on the tables. Trista throws me a wink, and I feel my cheeks heat from the attention.

“Now, if you could all please stand so I can officially make a toast.” People stand and raise their beverages in the air. “To my son and my future daughter-in-law, I love you both and couldn’t be happier for you. To Tate and Julia!”

“Tate and Julia!” The call rings out from the crowd while everyone slings back their drinks.