Wildfire Griffin (Fire & Rescue Shifters: Wildfire Crew #1)(17)

“I could say the same to you,” he said.

While she was still puzzling over that one, he glanced down at Fenrir. “So, have you been behaving yourself?”

Fenrir yawned again, looking supremely unbothered by his master’s arrival.

“He’s been great,” Edith said. Even though she’d been irritated at the time to have the dog assigned to her like some kind of four-footed nursemaid, she had to admit that she’d enjoyed the company. “I’m just sorry that he had to be cooped up in here all day. Can’t have been much fun for him.”

“Woof,” Fenrir said firmly.

“He disagrees with you,” Rory said, his mouth quirking.

“I swear he can understand every word I say.” She shook her head in amazement. “He’s the most intelligent animal I’ve ever met. What kind of dog is he?”

“His own.” Rory shrugged. “I can’t tell you his background. I found him out in the wilderness last year. Rescued him from a fire.”

“Woof.”

“Or he rescued me.” Rory grinned down at Fenrir, who made a low, grumbling sound deep in his throat. “Depends on your point of view.”

Edith stroked Fenrir’s soft, thick fur. “Well, I’ll be sorry to see him go.”

And you.

The thought was ridiculous. Rory was a total stranger. Why was she feeling sad about saying goodbye to someone she’d barely met? She had no business feeling lonely this early in the season. A whole summer of solitude still stretched out before her. If she was lucky enough to still have a job.

She smiled wider, covering up the strange sense of desolation hollowing out her middle. “So I guess you’ve come to fetch him, since you’re all finished? Are you heading back to your base now?”

“Actually, no.” Rory jerked a thumb in the direction of the door. “We think the fire’s knocked over, but it’s best to keep an eye on it overnight just to make sure it’s completely dead. We’re setting up camp. I came to ask you if you’d like to join us for dinner.”

“Oh!” Her heart, which moments before had been sunk to the pit of her stomach, leaped so high she physically rose onto her toes. “Yes! Thank you, thank you!”

Rory laughed, holding up his hands, as Fenrir’s ears flattened. “Whoa. Don’t get too excited. It’s field rations, not gourmet cuisine.”

She realized she’d spoken far too loudly, too enthusiastically, but she couldn’t help it. He was staying, if only for one more night. He wanted her company, he’d asked her to join them! She bounced on the spot, unable to contain her happiness.

“I don’t mind. Can I contribute some food? I have plenty here, enough for everyone.” She whirled, masking her excess energy in rooting through her supply cupboard. “Though it’s mostly only cans. Beans! Beans are good. I have lots of beans. Does your squad like beans? Are you sure they won’t mind me joining you?”

“They’ll welcome you with open arms.” Rory rescued her from a teetering stack of cans, piling them into the crook of his elbow. He tossed one to Fenrir, who caught it neatly in his jaws. “Especially if you come bearing beans.”

Grabbed her biggest pot, she followed them out. The sky was still streaked with the last glow of sunset, but night was gathering in the forest. The rising moon smiled down, veiled and reddish behind the thin haze of smoke left over from the fire.

“Running up and down these stairs multiple times a day must keep you fit.” Rory was a broad-shouldered silhouette ahead of her, picking his way cautiously down. “You have to be tough to live up here all alone. You do a lot of hiking?”

“Yep.” She didn’t even need to hold the handrail; every step was familiar under her boots. “It’s part of the job, checking on the area, keeping paths clear. It’s my favorite part, actually. I like being in the forest better than being above it.”

Moonlight silvered Rory’s profile as he glanced back at her. “Why is that?”

She hesitated, struggling to put the feeling into words. “Because…on the ground, I’m part of things. In the dirt. When I’m in the lookout, I’m sealed off. Separated. Locked away behind glass walls.”

“A princess in a tower,” Rory said, sounding more thoughtful than teasing. “Like in a fairytale.”

She snorted. “I’m no princess.”

Rory stopped, turning round. Standing a step below her, he was precisely at her eye level.

His voice was a deep and soft as the night. “But you might be in a fairytale.”

Close as he was, it was dark enough that she couldn’t make out anything of his expression; just the line of his forehead, the curve of his lips. His eyes were hidden in shadow. It was easier to be this close to him when she didn’t need to fear drowning in their amber-gold depths.

She breathed in the faintest whisper-trace of his scent; warm and rich, nutmeg and smoke. If she leaned just a little closer—

Fenrir barked from the bottom of the stairs, sharp and impatient. They both jumped, jerking apart.

“Right.” Rory let out a rueful laugh, shaking his head as he turned away. “Feed the dog first. Come on, they’re this way.”

The firefighters had set up camp a little way from their vehicle, halfway between the lookout tower and the fireline. They’d dragged a couple of logs cut from the forest to make seats around a small campfire.