Wildfire Griffin (Fire & Rescue Shifters: Wildfire Crew Book 1) Page 10

  She couldn’t have moved if the building had been on fire. The discomfort of the new t-shirt against her skin faded into irrelevance. All she was aware of was the warmth of his breath against her skin, the closeness of his body.

  Gently, he tucked the label back in. He smoothed the fabric down, making sure it lay completely flat. “There. Perfect.”

  He still hadn’t moved away. Her breath caught. He seemed to have stopped breathing too.

  “Perfect,” Rory said again, in the barest whisper.

  She didn’t dare turn her head. She took a deep breath, summoning all her courage. “Rory, I have to tell you—“

  A loud cough came from behind them.

  Edith sprang away from Rory guiltily. He did the same, although he didn’t let go of her shoulder.

  “Chief,” Rory said, flushing to the roots of his hair. “I was, uh, helping Edith. With her gear.”

  “So I can see,” Buck said, folding his arms. “If you’ve quite finished, I need to talk to her. Alone.”

  Rory’s fingers tightened, as though he’d felt her tense up. “It’s okay,” he murmured in her ear. “He’s cranky, but fair. You can trust him.”

  With a last parting squeeze, Rory released her. She squelched an urge to clutch at his sleeve and beg him not to go. Something of her dismay must have shown on her face, because he hesitated at the top of the stairs.

  “I won’t go far,” he said. “I’ll be right outside.”

  “No you won’t.” Buck shooed Rory away as if he was a pigeon. “You will be writing. In my office, where I have thoughtfully left you an incident report form to fill out. With words arranged to form semi-coherent sentences. That I can actually file without having to attach a hand-written note of apology to whoever has to read it!”

  He shouted this last bit down the stairs, as Rory beat a hasty retreat. Buck glared after the squad boss for a moment, as though checking to make sure he was really gone, before turning back to her.

  “I don’t like having you on A-squad,” Buck said without preamble.

  His words hit her like a gut-punch. He hadn’t exactly welcomed her with open arms before, but he had said that she was on the crew. What had happened? Had he somehow figured out her secret? Was he firing her?

  Buck’s mouth thinned. “But I don’t have a choice. The other squads are full, so I’ve got nowhere else to put you.”

  That didn’t sound like an instant dismissal. He couldn’t know.

  Which meant that she had to tell him. Right now.

  “S-sir.” Apprehension churned in her stomach. She felt sick with dread. “I, I need to tell you—“

  “I’m talking,” Buck cut her off. “You listen. And you better listen good. Rory needs you here, which means I need you here.”

  She was reduced to staring at him in confusion again.

  “But.” The chief raised a finger, glowering more fiercely than ever. “I will not have any more deaths on my head. While you’re on my crew, I’m responsible for you. And that means that if I get the slightest hint that you are not fit for this job, I will fire you in a hot second. No matter how it messes up my crew or my plans.”

  “I don’t understand,” she whispered.

  “If you go, so does Rory. Without Rory, all of A-squad collapses.” His cold eyes flayed the flesh from her bones. “And I need A-squad. So you better throw everything you’ve got into persuading me you’re an asset and not a liability. Understand me now?”

  She didn’t. Didn’t understand how this could be a man who Rory respected. Didn’t understand how he could have called him fair. Didn’t understand how anyone could be so cruel, so spiteful, as to chain Rory’s fate to hers.

  She knew Buck had been angry at Rory for hiring her, but this angry? Furious enough to make Rory pay the price if she failed? To fire them both if—when—she made a mistake?

  Buck frowned at her. “I expect crew to answer me, Edith. Not a great start.”

  It took all of her willpower to stop her hands from shaping her distress in the air. Her shoulders and arms were rigid as iron.

  “Y-yes, chief,” she forced out past numb lips. “I understand.”

  “Good.” His voice softened a fraction. “Look, Rory believes in you. And even if I occasionally wish to skin him and fashion his hide into a fetching hat, I trust him. Give me your best self, show me what he sees in you, and I’ll gladly eat humble pie and ask for seconds. Prove his instincts are right. Don’t let him down.”

  Her fingernails bit into her palms. “I won’t.”

  With a small nod, Buck left. She managed to stay standing until he was out of sight.

  Then she folded into a huddled ball. She rocked in tight jerks, jamming her fist into her mouth to stifle her involuntary sobs. Buck’s implacable voice echoed like thunder in her head.

  If you go, so does Rory.

  If you go, so does Rory.

  “Edith? Are you up here?”

  She jerked upright in panic. The light through the windows had darkened into dusk.

  She couldn’t be seen like this. Other people didn’t collapse, shaking from head to toe. Other people didn’t zone out and lose chunks of time. Other people didn’t have meltdowns.

  Above all else, she had to be like other people now. She couldn’t afford the slightest hint that she was different.

  Otherwise Rory would pay the price.

  “Edith?” Blaise called again.

  She scrubbed her hands over her face, putting her expression back in order. “Yes! I’m here!”

  Blaise’s head popped up from the stairs. “There you are! Rory sent me to see where you’d got to. Why are you still up here? Couldn’t you find what you needed?”

  “I-it took awhile,” Edith lied, ducking her head to hide her face. She gathered up her uniform. “But I found it all in the end.”

  “Great. If any of it turns out not to fit right, don’t suffer in silence. Not good for anyone if your gear is giving you blisters out on the line.” Blaise hesitated. “Did you talk to Rory about whatever it was that was bothering you?”

  “Kind of.” She was grateful for the pile of equipment occupying her arms. It stopped her hands from giving her away. “It doesn’t matter now.”

  Blaise eyed her for a moment longer before shrugging. “Well, come on. I’ll show you where we stow our squad’s stuff, and then you still have to unpack.” The other woman bumped her, shoulder to shoulder, in a friendly fashion. “Assuming you’ve decided to stay after all.”

  “Yes.” Edith set her jaw. Her fingers dug into the rough fabric of her folded turn outs. “I’m staying.”

  Chapter 13

  Rory was getting dressed when the call he’d been expecting finally came. Shoving his head through the neck of his t-shirt, he lunged for his cellphone. “Dad!”

  Framed in the tiny screen, the grainy, juddering image of his father smiled up at him. “So I gather you’ve found your mate.”

  The picture-in-picture video showed Rory his own big sappy grin. He didn’t care how much of a massive dork he looked. With Edith in his life, he thought he might never stop smiling.

  “I’m sorry to give such big news over email,” he said to his father. “With the time difference, it was too late to call you last night.”

  The fine lines around Griff’s golden eyes crinkled with amusement. Sometimes looking at his father was scarily like peering into a mirror and seeing his future self.

  “Oh, I didn’t hear it from your email,” Griff said. “Though your mother is still poring over that, ah, extensive essay extolling Edith’s many virtues. No, I heard the news from Chase.”

  Rory was taken aback. Chase was Callum’s father, one of his own dad’s fire engine crewmates. “Cal actually picked up a phone and talked to his family?”

  Griff shook his head. “Alas, no. Chase got it from Ash, who of course learned it from Rose. Who in turn was told by your brother, since she overheard part of your phone call with him last night.”

  That had
been inevitable, he supposed. Rose owned the pub where Ross worked as a bartender. She was their godmother, so he didn’t really mind Ross sharing the news with her.

  “You and Mom aren’t upset that I told Ross first, are you?” he asked. “It’s just that I knew he’d still be awake, closing up the pub.”

  “Of course you told your twin first.” Griff waved a hand in dismissal. “But he immediately called up all your sisters, since he knew his life would be a living hell if they found out he’d kept such juicy gossip from them for even a minute. And they called your cousins, who called your aunts…with the result that Chase only managed to be the first to tell me the news because he wasn’t shy about waking me up at the crack of dawn. My phone has been going off all morning.”

  Rory winced. With five siblings, seven aunts, and enough cousins to form a football team, he had a lot of relatives. And they were all impossibly nosy. Maybe Edith was right to prefer being an only child.

  “Sorry about that,” he said. “Why haven’t they been calling me?”

  “Ross made everyone swear not to hassle you. Said you were going to have enough problems winning your mate without your entire family peering over your shoulder and offering helpful advice.”

  That was his twin. Combining incredible thoughtfulness with a back-handed insult. Thanks, Ross.

  Rory folded himself onto his narrow bunk, cupping his phone between his hands. “Well, I could actually use some helpful advice. From one person, at least.”

  Griff gave him what Rory and his siblings had always referred to as “the dad look.” The one that managed to combine total support with a certain wryness; a mix of you got this with gotta let kids make their own mistakes.

  “Please, Dad,” Rory urged. “I don’t have your ability to read people, and my own power doesn’t work on Edith. I’m terrified of screwing up and not being able to make it right again.”

  His dad’s image flickered and broke up for a moment, the unreliable internet connection struggling to maintain the call. “I can’t tell you your path, son. All I can do is suggest that you listen to your instincts. What does your griffin think?”

  Sweep her into the sky, his animal said promptly. Show her our true self.

  Rory made a face. “My griffin is no help. All it wants to do is mate her immediately. But I can’t, Dad. I’m her boss, after all. Imagine how it’s going to look to her if I hire her one day and start making advances the next. I have to keep my animal leashed, but so far it keeps getting away from me.” He winced as he recalled how close he’d already come to disaster. “Yesterday, I almost kissed her in the middle of fitting her out for new gear.”

  “Well,” Griff murmured, smiling. “Firefighter uniforms are very sexy.”

  “Seriously, Dad. You’ve got more control of your own beast than any shifter I know. How do you do it?”

  Griff blew out his breath. “I learned the hard way that if you pit yourself against your own soul, you lose every time. Rory, I understand your concerns, but don’t think of this as something that’s happening only to you. Even though Edith’s not a shifter, she’ll be experiencing the mating instinct too. But she doesn’t know what’s really going on. Imagine what that must be like for her.”

  Was that why Edith wouldn’t look him in the eyes? “You think she’s so timid and uncertain around me because she feels something too?”

  Griff cocked an eyebrow at him. “Let’s just say that I find it difficult to believe that some fragile little mouse could possibly be your perfect match.”

  Hope bloomed in his chest, but he hesitated. “I don’t know. If you saw her, you’d be able to tell how badly she’s been hurt. She’d locked herself up in that remote lookout tower like she was scared of the world. Yesterday, when she met the rest of the crew, she looked like she wanted to bolt straight back there. If she’s that overwhelmed just by meeting new people, how can I possibly dump shifters and fated mates and lightning-throwing invisible monsters on her head? I can’t explain one thing without the whole story coming out.”

  “Mmm.” Griff rubbed his chin for a moment. “Who else knows she’s your mate?”

  “Evidently, half of England and Scotland,” Rory said wryly. “Apart from that…all the squad, of course. And the Superintendent.”

  The dad look was back again, stronger than ever. “And you see no way this could possibly go wrong.”

  Rory winced. “Buck won’t tell, and I can keep the rest of the squad from spilling the secret too soon. And I will tell her. When the moment is right.” He glanced at the time. “I’ve got to go to training. Tell Mom and the girls I’ll call when I can.”

  “We’re all thinking of you, son. Stay safe.” Griff hesitated. “And Rory?”

  He paused with his thumb over the End Call button. “Yeah?”

  “Make the right moment.”

  Chapter 14

  The right moment, Rory was pretty sure, was not in the middle of a crowded gym that smelled of socks.

  Nonetheless, when he walked through the door and was confronted by the sight of Edith doing chin-ups across the room, it was all he could do not to drop to his knees and propose marriage on the spot.

  Her muscles flexed under a light gleam of sweat. Her shorts and crop top clung to her narrow, straight figure and showed off the powerful curves of her thighs. Tendons stood out in the sides of her neck as she pulled herself up one more time. Strong, controlled, every part of her body working in perfect unison.

  Joe came up behind him as he stood there frozen. The sea dragon let out a long, appreciative whistle.

  “Bro.” Joe draped an arm over his shoulder, nodding in Edith’s direction. “Please take this as a totally platonic expression of sincere aesthetic admiration when I say: Daaaaaaamn.”

  Unaware of her audience, Edith dropped to the ground. She wiped her forearm across her forehead, flushed and panting. She was gloriously female, intoxicatingly sexy, and he was staring at her like a lovesick teenage boy in front of half the crew.

  He wrenched himself away, turning to Joe instead. “You want to do some free weights?”

  “Not in the slightest,” Joe responded. His blue eyes gleamed with wickedness. “But I bet I know someone who does. Hey, Edith! Rory needs a spotter!”

  Rory strategically positioned his gym towel in front of his groin as Edith headed their way. “Joe,” he growled under his breath, barely moving his lips. “I am going to murder you with my bare hands.”

  “Just being a good wingman, bro. Whether you like it or not.” The sea dragon punched his arm cheerfully before heading off to join Callum and Blaise at the floor mats.

  Edith flipped her long honey-gold braid over her shoulder, sweat-damp from her work out. His heart gave a great bound as she lifted her chin, looking him squarely in the eyes. “You wanted me?”

  He was so lost in the infinite subtle shades of brown and green patterning her irises, it took him a second to realize she’d spoken at all. A question. She’d asked him a question.

  “Yes,” he said dazedly. “Always.”

  Her gaze flickered sideways, breaking the spell. “Um, okay. What did you want to do?”

  You, he very nearly said. He clutched his towel more tightly.

  “Uh, bench press?” he said at random.

  He realized his mistake when he was flat on his back, staring up at the underside of Edith’s small breasts leaning over his face. He shut his eyes and desperately imagined the unsexiest things he could. Dung beetles. Foot fungus. Naked mole rats.

  Naked mate, his griffin helpfully suggested.

  “Too much weight?” she said, clearly mistaking his pained expression.

  “No,” he grunted, enormously grateful that he’d had the foresight to drape his towel across his lap. “Load me up with more.”

  Normally he was cautious not to lift anywhere near his actual limit during the morning session, when the other squads were sharing the gym. Apart from Buck, none of them knew about shifters. It was best to avoid attracting attenti
on.

  But he needed the burn in his shoulders and chest to drive out the ache in areas further south. And, if he was totally honest with himself, he couldn’t resist showing off a little.

  He heard Edith’s soft intake of breath as he smoothly raised the weights. His griffin preened smugly. He was achingly aware of the warmth of Edith’s hands on the bar next to his, not quite touching his own.

  He was seriously tempted to power through his reps with his eyes closed, but that would just have made Edith think he was even more of a weirdo than she already did. On the next lift, he opened them, and found himself locking gazes with her. She jerked back a fraction, biting her lower lip, but didn’t drop her eyes.

  The bar suddenly felt as light as a feather in his hands. She was looking at him, properly looking at him! No more of those fleeting, sideways glances, as though he was some terrifying beast.

  See? he said silently to his griffin. Patience is paying off. She’s already more relaxed around us.

  To his surprise, his griffin didn’t share his elation. Its feathers flattened in distress, tail flicking from side to side.

  No, it whispered. Look closer.

  Puzzled, Rory studied Edith as best he could while he ran through his bench press routine. His griffin’s unease spread through his stomach like ice. Even though he was staring right at her, he had the weirdest feeling that he wasn’t seeing her.

  It was like there was an invisible force-field behind those hazel eyes, walling off her soul. For all that they were physically close, she seemed farther away than ever.

  The longer he looked at her, the more he became convinced that she wasn’t seeing him either. Before, she’d always been in constant motion, beautifully attuned to the world around her. Now, her shoulders were as rigid as her smile. It was like she was braced against some storm he couldn’t see.

  “Hey.” He pitched his voice low, so that none of the other crew members working out nearby could overhear. “What’s wrong?”