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CHAPTER NINE

When I turn onto the highway, I’m ruminating about all kinds of serious shit. As if I’m having a case of the Murphy’s Law revenge, traffic comes to a sudden stop. Son of a bitch. It’s a total log jam. It’s not even rush hour. But that’s California for you.

I almost groan out loud as I inch forward in bumper-to-bumper traffic on the five. That last fire scene we went to wasn't far, just on the edge of our county, but I, like an idiot, made the mistake of getting on the highway thinking it would get us back faster.

This isn’t my jurisdiction, but I ease onto the shoulder with my emergency lights flashing. “Let’s go see if we can lend a hand. This isn’t Ocean County territory, but helping is far better than sitting here staring at tail lights. Maybe we can direct traffic, diffuse tempers, or something…”

As we round the corner and the mayhem comes into sight, Avery bolts upright in her seat. “Oh my god, are those avocados?”

“Jesus. Looks like it.”

She makes a face and laughs. “God, that’s messy.”

It’s the first time she’s looked relaxed since the scare at the warehouse.

When I park, I radio the command center for Levi County. “Levi County Command Center, this is Fire Chief Brock Mitchell from Lynn’s Cove Fire and EMS, I’m on site at the crash at South Bound exit 414.”

“This is Levi County Command, go ahead, Chief.”

Cuing the mic, I say, “I can offer some limited assistance. But, I don’t have much gear with me. Over.”

A tinny voice on the other end says, “Copy that, Chief Mitchell, your assistance would be appreciated. The unit on hand could use some help. Our next unit is ten minutes out. We have another incident that’s tying up our resources. You’ll make someone very happy. Thank you. Over.”

I hang up the mic and kill the truck engine. “I’ve seen a lot of things, but never the highway smeared in bright green avocado mash.”

Staring at the chaos with a curl to her lips, she says, “At least, we can’t say today’s been boring.”

“Boring isn’t in my vocabulary. Sometimes, I wish it was.”

“I’m beginning to see that. Hey, Chief, can I get out of the truck this time?”

I cut her a glance. “How are you feeling?”

“Good. It’s not like this is a fire or a burned out warehouse. And the traffic isn’t even moving. The worst thing that can happen here is a food fight might break out.”

“Okay. You win this round. But stick close to me. No wandering off. If you feel anything, I mean anything out of the ordinary, you tell me immediately.”

Her smile is down right disarming. For a few seconds, I’m stuck. Just like Reeves was back at the restaurant.

She says, “I can do that. But really, I’m fine. There are no creepy shadows around here. Just don’t kiss me and there won’t be any more problems.”

All grumpy, I say, “If that’s the case, then you’ll never have another panic attack. One, because you are not going traipsing around any crime scenes by yourself, and two, because I’m not going to kiss you.”

She gives me a little eye-roll. “I learned my lesson about spooky warehouses. Now about the other, what was all that mumbling about a date back there in the restaurant?”

I climb out of the truck and pull on my reflective coat. “I was delirious from hunger.”

“Handy excuse. Now, since I’m fine, and I won’t go wandering off in crime scenes, and you’re not going to kiss me, and I’m not going to let you kiss me, can I skip those evals?”

Glowering. That’s what I’m doing. I’ve heard the term before and now I understand it. “Don’t expect any special treatment from me. I’m still your boss.”

She has the nerve to bat her eyes at me as she pulls on a reflective vest and the county baseball cap that I toss her way.

I grumble, “Don’t push your luck, Ellis. Come on, let’s go see what we can do to get this clusterfuck under control.”

Avery and I pick our way across the slicked pavement toward the ambulance on the other side of the road .

Her laughter is like singing crystal. Bright and light. A tone my ear loves. She’s chattering away and I’m losing my head over here.

“I’ve always loved avocados, but I’ll admit, this is a little bit much. These devils are slippery as—” She grabs my arm as one of her boots slips out.

The warmth of her touch on my forearm sets off a fire alarm in my head. “Careful, there.” It’s a double warning. Watch your step and mind the beast that’s lurking inside of me.

She feels this electric chemistry too because she jerks her hand back. But we have zero time to process that because someone starts screaming, “Help! Help me!”

Whipping around, I spot a woman crawling on her knees between the cars. “What the hell?”

“My dog, he got loose!”

Avery crouches down to peer between the cars. “There’s a puppy running around like mad. It’s covered in green stuff!”

“Help me catch him, please,” the woman yells.

People begin climbing from their cars. But soon, they’re hanging onto the side mirrors and hoods, trying not to fall.

Huffing, I shake my head. “Great. Just what we need, a dozen busted ankles and wrists.”

Avery, sticking her hands out for balance, makes her way to the side of a truck, her laughter carrying through the air as she goes.

“Get back in your cars!” I bellow. “We’ll handle this. Just stay put.”

Holding onto the side of the tractor trailer, Avery inches her way toward the hysterical dog owner that's now a total mess. She looks like she’s been assaulted by a slime monster. It’s all over her face, her hands, stuck in her hair, smeared all over her dress. The grimace on her face is pure misery.

The puppy, on the other hand, is having a blast.

Yipping with joy, he bounces around, wagging his blond tail, weaving between the cars and trucks.

I make a lunge for him as he bolts by me. My foot slips and I go down to one knee, but manage not to face-plant. The dog’s expression is triumphant as it stands just out of reach barking at me.

“You little devil.”

Woof!

I growl at him and he growls back, playfully.

Apparently, having four legs is a huge advantage in slick shit. The little furball zooms around me a few more times with his behind tucked just to prove the point.

“I think I can get him,” Avery calls.

“Good, because he won't get close enough to me.” I lunge for him, but miss him again. I have to pinwheel my arms to get my balance back, but manage to get ready for another pass. I refuse to crawl on my hands and knees.

“Careful, Chief, don’t break a hip.”

I glare at Avery. “You’ll pay for that one, pipsqueak.”

She’s grinning like mad when the dog runs by her. She makes a valiant effort to grab it. But with a flail of arms, and a squeal, she ends up under the truck on her back.

For a second, my mind instantly fills with terrible things like concussions and factures—god, I’m on edge around her—but her raucous laughter shuts that down.

When I crouch down and offer a hand, she’s got tears in her eyes and her shoulders are shaking with laughter

“Good lord,” I grumble. “You gave this old man a heart attack twice today. ”

From out of nowhere, the puppy bounds under the truck and starts licking Avery’s face.

Her laughter turns to muffled giggles as she fights to keep his tongue out of her mouth. I’m suddenly struck by how incredibly young Avery is.

Holy fucking guacamole . Literally.

Not like I didn’t know she was young. But her carefree laughter makes me feel ancient.

She’s like a puppy, all fresh-faced and eager, and I’m like an old junkyard dog that absolutely cannot learn a new trick.

This thing between us would have never worked, even if she didn’t start working for me. Even thinking I could date Avery was a foolish whim. A moment of desperate loneliness. A need to connect with someone who would understand what it was like to be married to the fire department.

I grab the little, fat blond fur ball by the scruff and tug him away from her. Okay, so he’s not so blond at the moment. “He’s ready to be in a Saint Patrick’s Day Parade.”

As I bundle him in the crook of my arm, he turns his kisses toward me. I have to squeeze my eyes shut as he goes crazy on my face. Before I know it, I’m laughing. Like I haven’t in a long, long time.

When I wrangle him away and open my eyes, Avery’s looking at me. Her smile is gentle. She’s got a look that I can’t quite name. Like she’s seeing me for the first time.

After an awkward silence with us staring at each other, she says, “You look cute with a puppy in your arms.”

“Yeah, well, you look pretty funny laying there covered in green goop. Like you weren’t enough of a mess already.”

I offer her a hand again. “Come on. Let me tug you out from under there.”

Gripping her wrist, I pull her, and she slips right out into the sunshine on a slip-and-slide of green slime.

When she stands up, she’s flush with a bright, excited light in her eyes. We’re inches apart. Close enough to kiss.

Her breathing is rapid. My heart is making a racket.

Before I can stop myself, I’m swiping my thumb over her bottom lip. “You had some avocado there.”

She blinks up at me like she sees right through my half-truth. She does have avocado everywhere. Just not on her lip.

The puppy squirms and whines, and she pulls him from my arms. “Look at you, cutie.” She flashes her eyes to me. “I wasn’t talking about you, by the way. Not that you’re not cute, but you look like a bear that ate a porcupine right now.”

I sigh, knowing my frown is epic.

Ignoring me, she smiles, hugging the little dog, and says, “I just love being a firefighter. You never know what you’re going to get to do.”

Yep. Roger that. I never saw this one coming.

Damn. Damn. Damn. I clear my throat and look out over the chaos of cars facing every which way. Feels kind of like my brain right now, a scrambled mess that’s going to be a bitch to clean up.