Consumed (Firefighters #1)(79)

“A one-on-one with Mahoney?” An image of the tall, authoritative woman came to mind. “She’s something else.”

“She served my ass to me on a plate.”

“That’s hot.” As Tom shot a lot over, Vic shrugged. “What. It’s the truth.”

“She’s an elected official.”

“So I’m not allowed to notice her as a woman?”

“No. You’re not.”

Ahhhh, so it’s like that, Vic thought with a smirk.

“Lemme get this straight, chief,” he said. “You have one conversation with Mahoney and now you’re thinking we’ve got to wipe each other’s asses or some shit? Come on. We’re firemen, not in community theater. Besides, do you want to get into the ins and outs of disputes over parking spaces, things left in the refrigerators, and who used whose towel in the shower? Hell no. And ’scuse me for mentioning this, but remember last year, when you gave up yelling for Lent? You lasted three days and had to go to confession because you called Damnit a cunt loud enough for his dead grandmother to hear it in her grave.” He looked over at the guy. “You got a bad history with impulse control, chief. But what you do not have is a problem doing your job well—or a problem with helping the rest of us stay on track.”

The chief exhaled a curse. “We got a lot alcoholics in the departments. People with serious problems, Vic. You know this.”

“That’s on them. Not you.”

“I’m not so sure of that right now.”

“Look, you’re fine. We’re fine. Everything is cool. And if you bring in therapy dogs to the next stationhouse meeting, I will laugh at you. Then probably play with them. I love dogs. Dogs are awesome. Can we have dogs?”

Tom smiled a little. “Anne just got one.”

“Really? I always did like your sister.” He put his palm up again. “No, not like that. Jesus, and people think I’m a perv.”

“You are a perv.”

Vic started to grin as he thought about what he had lined up later in the week. “Yeah, I am.”

“You got any beer?”

As the Pats kicked off, Vic nodded toward his kitchen. “Help yourself. And bring one back for the host.”

The chief groaned as he got up, and Vic knew exactly how the guy felt. “Oh, and you’re buying lunch, Chief.”

Tom looked over his shoulder. “How’d you know I’m staying?”

Vic stared up at his boss for a moment. The guy really did look worn out, and Vic had to wonder if maybe Sheila, the ex-wife, hadn’t hit him up about something. But there was no asking about that. Wives and girlfriends were not even on the list of acceptable guy talk.

Exes? No fucking way.

Vic shrugged. “I can just tell you’re here for a while—and it’s cool. As long as you stop talking and keep bringing me cold Buds, you’re welcome on my couch. And I want pizza from Antonio’s, pepperoni with the thin crust. I’d like a large. Oh, and they’ll bring more beer if you tip them well, too.”

He expected a hard comeback. Instead, the guy just nodded and kitchen. “Good deal.”

Wow. Looked like Mahoney could add “Dragon Slayer” to her election taglines.

What a woman she was, Vic thought to himself.





chapter




36



The morning was classic New England in the autumn, the sky a bright, endless blue, a clear sea flipped on its head, the sun so intense, it turned the world to chrome. As Anne traveled away from houses and neighborhoods, shopping centers and office buildings, she felt a calm come to her. Forty minutes later, she was almost there.

“You ready for the country, Soot?” she asked him.

He had his head out the window, looking around at the trees and the farmland. He was wagging to himself, his tail going back and forth.

The lane she was looking for came just around a tight corner, and Anne had to double back after turning around in the middle of a straightaway. Rolling fields intersected by low stone walls and vibrant trees made it impossible not to fall in love with the area—and then she came up to the farm.

Not what she had expected.

The buttercup-yellow Victorian was set back on its land at the top of a little rise. The closer she got to it, the more she saw the age in flaking paint and a sagging front porch, but that didn’t matter. With some work and some time, it was going to be a haven away from the stress of Danny’s job.

It was the perfect place to bring a family.

That pierced her heart, a javelin of a realization. She didn’t have time to think about it, though, because as she rolled to a stop, Danny opened the front door and stepped out of his house.

“Hey,” he called over.

“Hey,” she said as she got out. “Nice place.”

“Glad you made it.”

Letting Soot out, she wondered if she should hook his lead, but then he just stuck by her, trotting along as she went across to the three steps up to the porch.

Danny was in work clothes, old jeans hanging low on his hips, scruff on his jawline, a muscle shirt giving his tattoos airtime. Scratches that were partially healed marked his forearms, evidence of the work he’d been doing, and he glowed with health.

“This is . . .” She glanced around. “Amazing.”