Page 5 of Striking the Match (Redwood Bay Fire #3)

Teddy

“Uh, yeah, sure…I can come in,” I say with a frown.

Lili Kwon glances at me briefly before returning her attention to the screen.

She’s currently trouncing our other friend from the One-Thirteen, Sawyer Nelson.

Luckily, I was taking a turn out when my phone rang.

No way either of them would have missed an opportunity to race ahead or even run my avatar’s car off the track, no matter the circumstances.

Not that I was doing all that well with my bandaged hand, anyway.

“Eat dust, Nelson!” Lili crows as I close the call, jamming her thumbs against her controller.

“You’re such a cheat,” Sawyer growls back, not giving up despite Lili’s obvious lead.

“It’s not cheating, it’s skill,” Lili says smugly. Whatever it is, the race is over shortly after that, leaving Sawyer groaning and Lili with her arms in the air like she’s just scored a touchdown. By then, I’ve already got my sneakers back on.

“You’re leaving?” Lili asks when she finally notices, dropping her hands and pouting. We’re at her place for the afternoon and I know the plan was to order pizza, but my heart is in my throat.

“Yeah, sorry, guys,” I say, genuinely apologetic as I grab my wallet and keys. “That was the shelter calling about that cat I rescued.”

“You mean that cat the One-Two-Two rescued,” Lili scoffs devilishly. It took about five minutes for the story of what happened at the underpass to fly around the station, and my colleagues have very much enjoyed teasing me mercilessly about it.

But Sawyer’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, no. Is she okay?”

“Uh, yeah,” I say with a nod. That was my first question as well. “She’s fine. Great, actually. Someone wants to adopt her. Apparently, this person wants to meet me to say thank you.”

“Couldn’t they just write you a note?” Lili asks dubiously.

“Or bake cookies for the house!” Sawyer suggests.

“Like we have a shortage of baked goods every shift,” I say with a laugh.

The truth is I was thinking the same as them, though.

The guy from the shelter, Gus, was clear I didn’t have to come in if I was busy.

It does seem a little presumptuous of whoever this person is to summon me there.

I got the impression they really wanted a face-to-face before going through with the adoption after hearing their new cat’s rescue had been all over TikTok.

Perhaps they’re feeling star struck or want to have a viral moment of their own.

Or maybe they just want to laugh at me for getting my ass stuck and having to be rescued by another fire house. My guys have certainly gotten endless torment out of it. Who knows?

Well, I guess I will once I show up. Because no matter the reason, you bet I’m jumping at the opportunity to see Miss Kitty one last time.

It broke my heart to hand her over to the shelter. Their onsite veterinarian gave the orange terror an examination right there and then and assured me that aside from being underweight and a couple of other minor health issues, she was in pretty good shape.

Then the staff asked me if I was interested in taking her home.

The hope in their eyes broke my fucking heart almost more than having to say I couldn’t.

Allergies run in my family, so there are several people that either live in my house or who visit regularly enough that would suffer horribly if any cat were to live there, let alone such a fluffy one as Miss Kitty.

My brother Nate, especially, would kick up a shit storm if I even suggested it.

It was on the tip of my tongue to tell the staff that I could take my house deposit savings and start renting my own place as soon as possible just so I could keep her.

I’m not allergic, after all, and I love the fire house’s resident feline, Smokey.

In fact, I usually bring treats on shift with me to bribe some affection out of her.

Because of everyone’s allergies, we obviously never had pets when I was growing up.

However, I always hoped when I got my own place, I’d be able to change that.

So, yeah. Miss Kitty might be a handful. But we went through something together and it didn’t feel right to dump her when she obviously didn’t have anyone giving a crap about her for a long time, if ever.

Pledging to move house on a whim for a cat I just met would have been irresponsible and impulsive, though.

Things I’m trying so hard not to be now I’m an adult.

Miss Kitty deserves someone stable and secure in life, not someone like me who’s still trying to get their shit together.

Not someone who, despite having a good job, is still living at home with his parents.

So hopefully, whoever this person is who’s interested in her right now can provide that for her.

I’d feel better if I met them and knew for sure, so that’s how I find myself making hasty excuses to my friends before high-tailing it to my car.

It’s a short drive to the rescue shelter, but it feels like plenty of time to get my nerves up.

What if I don’t like this person? It isn’t as if I have any right to put my foot down and stop the adoption. What if this only leaves me feeling worse?

I grit my teeth as I pull into the parking lot, trying to convince myself that I’m way, seriously overthinking this.

I’m sure my first instinct is right, and they simply want to make another video to follow up after all the initial ones from the rescue.

People will like that. It’ll give them comfort if they know that the river cat landed on her feet.

Still unsure of what to expect, I kill my ignition and get out of my car, surprised at how deserted the place is. There are only a couple of other vehicles around, including an extremely swish-looking Ram Longhorn pickup truck. Wow. I’m pretty sure those things cost upwards of seventy grand.

“Mr. Foster?”

I drag my gaze over to the person who’s just exited the shelter’s front door. He isn’t anyone I spoke to the last time I was here. I would have remembered someone so distinctive.

He’s white and slim with frameless glasses that seem to highlight rather than hide his expertly made-up face.

The SoCal sun catches the subtle glitter around his eyes, even from several feet away.

He’s gripping his phone tightly to his chest as he walks swiftly over to me like he’s balancing on a tightrope but also has a rocket up his ass.

I’m pretty much a jeans and T-shirt kind of guy, but even I can tell this dude knows fashion.

His chinos are turned up to reveal bare ankles, accentuating the bright yellow shoes that perfectly match the shade of the vest he has on under a gray hoodie and navy tailored blazer.

I want to ask how he’s not melting in all those layers, but his blond hair doesn’t even look damp.

His style and body temperature might be cool, but the intensity rolling off him as he comes to a stop in front of me reminds me of a blazing housefire. I’m stressed out just standing near him.

“Bryan Kallis,” he says, sounding like the crack of a rifle. He stabs his hand toward me for a single but extremely firm shake. “Nice to meet you.”

I’m not sure he means that, but I smile anyway. “You, too. Are you the one adopting the cat?”

“Am I…? No.” His mouth twitches more than smiles. “I’m here representing my boss, who’s inside. It was his idea to meet you.”

I can tell Bryan doesn’t agree, giving me an uneasy feeling. Just what exactly is going on here?

“Okay,” I say slowly. “Does he want to film me? Are you here to get me to sign something? Because I might have to check with my captain if?—”

“What? No,” Bryan says, somewhat urgently. “Absolutely no filming. We shouldn’t need an NDA, but would you mind shutting your phone off before we go inside? It would just make sure everyone’s protected.”

I blink slowly at him. An NDA? Who the hell is adopting this cat? The mafia?

“So…you didn’t want to meet me to make a follow-up TikTok?”

Bryan’s jaw clicks. “Oh, I’m sure there will be plenty of TikToketry. My boss loves that sort of thing. But at least he lets me review the footage before he posts. Look, I’m sorry for the cloak and dagger. The last few days have been…well, the last few weeks…months…”

He exhales, and I see a flash of tiredness and vulnerability that makes me think Bryan isn’t completely the prickly asshole he presents himself to be.

“If privacy is your concern, I promise to be discreet,” I tell him truthfully. To prove my point, I pull my phone from my back pocket and show him as I power it off. The guy’s shoulders creep down a fraction from his ears.

“Thank you,” he says softly. “I love the man, I do. But some days, it’s like trying to keep a toddler from sticking his fingers into a socket.”

The second the words leave his mouth, his panicked eyes flick toward me, like that inner thought was never, ever meant to be an outer one.

I mimic zipping my mouth shut, locking it, then throwing away the key.

Bryan gives me a weak laugh.

“Let’s get this show on the road, shall we?

” he says, shaking his head and walking back toward the front door, apparently trusting that I’ll follow.

Which I do, because not only do I want to see Miss Kitty, but now I’m also intrigued as to who this mysterious boss of his is.

Some eccentric tech bro? A cute grandpa from old money?

A movie star? Whoever he is, the fact that he’s hired a clearly queer assistant makes me feel the chances of him being a total douche are less.

But this is still a million miles from how I imagined my afternoon from going, and it’s all highly unusual. I keep my wits about me as I follow Bryan inside the building, then through another set of doors into the cat enclosure. And then…

And then I see Cassius Garda.

Former Seattle Seahawks quarterback.

Redwood Bay legend.

And my personal hero and longtime crush.