Page 36 of Love in the Time of Wildfires

“I’m just sorry it was because you were cold and wet. Feeling kinda bad about it now. I guess it was all my fault.” But she didn’t appear the least bit sorry.

“What exactly do you want me to say?”

“Nothing. I don’t want you to say anything you don’t want to say. It was just a kiss, Logan. It doesn’t have to mean anything other than that.”

“I know,” he replied, but he wasn’t sure his heart did. Whittling it all down to something meaningless didn’t sit right either. Logan now wanted to prove it had meant something. What the hell was she doing to him? This felt like some reverse psychology shit. He was convinced she was less a wildlife behaviorist and more of a witch.

He took her lead, stretching his legs and feet in front of him, both of them facing the lake. “I’m probably going to be taking off again soon.”

“Know where you’re headed yet?”

“Washington state,” he replied.

“Oh, yes, I did read something about that. Looks like a pretty bad one.”

He didn’t correct her that the team considered it a possible good fire, not a bad one. When it came to overtime pay, the squad didn’t see things the same way as everyone else. It was better she didn’t know how the job changed a person’s perspective. Perhaps this was why he no longer knew up from down, left from right, and whether a kiss was meaningless or not.

“Yeah,” was all he responded.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to . . . but maybe you can send me a text when you leave. I like to keep Goldie up-to-date with all the comings and goings.”

“I thought you had work friends now. Why are you still talking to a squirrel?”

“If you find someone you like talking to, you don’t just give them up because you find new friends.”

Logan wondered if he was on that list. It didn’t feel like a bad one to be on even if it included a forest rodent. “Yeah, I’ll let you know.”

“And you don’t mind if I text you while you’re gone, right? Even if it’s silly nothingness?”

He couldn’t help the smile pulling at his lips while he kept his gaze diverted. “No, I don’t mind.” With this, his one request popped back in his brain. He decided to take a chance. “Do you think I could . . .” Logan stopped himself because he might be stepping over the line.

“What? You can ask. Lord knows that I’m not shy about asking for things.”

He took a deep, expansive breath. “Can I . . . have a picture of you?”

“That depends. What are you planning on doing with this picture?” She grinned before taking a long drink from her water tumbler.

“Well, I’m not planning on sticking it down my pants if that’s what you’re asking,” he answered dryly.

A fine mist sprayed from River’s mouth before she fell into a coughing and laughing spell.

Logan wasn’t used to making people laugh. He knew he had a reputation for being rather serious, but he was becoming addicted to the lightness he felt when he could say something she found funny. He liked it.

“Logan! Now I’m just as wet as you—I mean . . . Never mind. Don’t listen to me. I’m sick.” She appeared flustered as her skin turned pink. “Fine. Take your picture.”

As he unzipped the small pocket on his backpack to remove his phone, she positioned her body to face him. Drawing up her knees to her chest, she wrapped her arms around her legs. Logan had never been much of a picture taker—he wasn’t one to use fancy filters. But looking at the screen, he didn’t have to. The scenery behind her was gorgeous, and she smiled gently, looking more like a dream than a reality he’d be able to keep.

He now knew how she felt in his arms and how she tasted on his lips. He knew so much more than he had at the beginning of the hike.

Logan was afraid he wasn’t going to be able to think about anything else.

Chapter Twelve

As promised, Logan had sent River a text a few days later. It hadn’t been anything beyond, We’ve been called up. Leaving now. Not the most romantic text River had ever received—not that she expected Logan to send her love poems simply because their lips had touched. She would have been weirded out if he had sent her poetry.

Anyway, the kiss had merely happened and then dropped soon after. Maybe they had both realized it had been a mistake. It had been a mistake, right?

Whether it was or wasn’t didn’t matter to her brain because she couldn’t stop thinking about it. She’d catch herself taking more time to spread her lip balm on her lips during the day, like this was somehow a way to recreate how it felt. It was a bit pitiful.