Tyson:How’s nine?
Me:Interesting.
Tyson:Say more. Quinn still there? That woman is fire.
I leave him on read because a second later, we’re backing into the station bay. Luke is already here with the brush truck, a heavy-duty pickup converted to hold a small water tank and compartments for brush fire tools. He acts as a spotter, helping Liam back us in. But it’s the whoop of excitement Liam lets outthat has me shoving my phone into my pocket.
“Fuck yeah,” he says, hitting his hand on the steering wheel with jubilation. Like he knows something the rest of us don’t.
“You happy you didn’t hit the door?” Nate quips from the front passenger seat.
I look in the direction of the lieutenant. Gone is the authoritative man. In his place is one full of calm and ease, and a little mischief.
“One time, asshole. I did that one fucking time, and it was years ago. Get over it.”
Sounds like me and tripping over the hose. A story I won’t be sharing with these guys any time soon. Not if I can help it.
Nate chuckles. “Then what?”
“Oh, you’ll see. You’ll all fucking see.”
Chapter 6
Bryn
Quinn: Found your cowboy.
“Ohmygod,”Igasp, my heart leaping into my throat while my leg kicks out from under the cream fabric chair, opening the message thread fully from my notifications.
In an instant, my hands have gone from calm and steady to trembling and ice cold, all the blood rushing to my heart as it beats furiously in my chest. She found him? How? What does that mean? A picture? Has she been looking this whole time?
“What?”
The voice has my head shooting up from where it was buried in my phone, rereading the simple text. Gran. Son of a... I'd forgotten I was sitting at her round wooden kitchen table, having coffee and breakfast with her, my plate of food lying partially eaten on the cream linen placemat that matches the chairs. Or, well, not forgotten, but completely distracted.
“Oh, uh—”
“Don't you dare say nothing, Brynleigh Myers. That was something. It sounded juicy. What is it?” Gran's amber eyes shine brightly in my direction, the morning sunlight that promises another perfectly hot June day glinting through the large, picturesque windows that face the backyard.
I swallow the word that was about to come out of my mouthand look back at my phone, unable to handle the scrutiny from my grandmother's eyes. It's not often that I keep things from Gran, but when it comes to my love life, we don't see eye to eye. She's always wanting me to go out and seize the day, find a nice young man to settle down with, maybe give her great-grandchildren before she kicks the bucket—her words, not mine. It's not that I don't want that for myself, but it isn't a priority. Getting through school, which I'm now done with, working to make something of myself, and taking care of her—those are my priorities.
“Well, I… uhm…”
Damn it. I’d probably have a better time with this if I hadn’t told her the whole story the other night. At least then I could sluff it off as no big deal. I didn’t think I’d ever see him again. We exchanged no personal information except our names.
I kicked myself all the way home and told Gran about it the next morning, deeming it safe to do so. She told me this was reason enough to be more active on social media. I glared at her. She knows I’m not one to do anything but scroll.
If I tell her he’s been found, she’s going to light up like a Christmas tree.
But I won’t lie to her.
“Quinn texted me,” I say, setting my phone down on the table to pick up my coffee mug. Pulling my right leg up on the chair beside me, I wrap an arm around my knee and meet my grandmother’s eyes. “She found Wyatt.”
As predicted, her eyes widen, glowing with excitement. I know her so well I can hear the thoughts rushing through her head, one after another.
Oh, Bryn, you need to contact him.
Oh, Bryn, maybe he’ll take you on that first date.
