Blowing Smoke: A Small-town Firefighter Gay Romance (The Wilds Book 2) Page 8

  The drive that normally takes half an hour takes nearly three times as long in these conditions, but finally, I’m turning down the gravel drive, tires finding the slight indents under fresh powder where Hunter came home so many hours ago.

  I swear it’s been three days since he called wondering why I wasn’t home yet. I can’t believe it’s only been eight hours.

  My phone’s a little deader now than when I plugged it in, and I frown at the cord. It’s probably not plugged in properly. I’m not going to worry about it now. I’ve got a charger on the nightstand.

  Winnie comes out of the bedroom when I open the front door, giving me a quiet, concerned ‘ruff’ before I shush her and call her over in a whisper.

  “Come on, let’s go back to bed,” I tell her, kicking off my boots as quick as I can. I feel like I’m moving through molasses even though I’m trying to hurry. I didn’t let myself feel just how tired I am until I walked in the door, and now it’s unmistakable.

  Hunter appears in the bedroom doorway, rubbing his eyes in the dark. “You’re home,” he says, a little smile curling his lips.

  “I am,” I answer, trudging over to him, greeting him with a kiss. “Told you I’d be okay.”

  He wraps his arms around me and lays his cheek against my shoulder. “Good. I missed you,” he adds, still sounding half-asleep. He takes my hand and pulls me into the bedroom with him. “You were gone too long,” he says, pulling my shirt up over my head, leaning in to kiss me again.

  There’s nothing rushed or hurried about it. He’s taking his time, putting me to bed gently. Normally I might feel a little infantalized by it, but right now, it feels really nice to be taken care of like this.

  He strips my pants off next, putting all my clothes directly in the hamper instead of on the floor like I would’ve. He pulls back the comforter and pats the mattress.

  “I left the warm spot for you,” he says, climbing in on the other side.

  I don’t waste any time getting in, wrapping my arms around him from behind, and pulling him against me.

  “This right here is what I’ve been waiting for all day,” I murmur, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck.

  Hunter lets out a satisfied ‘hmm’ and wiggles back into me, pressing his body into the contour of mine, his heat soaking into me, chasing away all the cold I’ve been buried in all day.

  I expect sleep to take me right away. I’m so exhausted that it feels like the mattress is a magnet pulling me down, but laying here next to Hunter, his body pressed into mine, sleep moves further and further away from my mind. I kiss the back of his neck again, just to see if he’s still awake, and he sighs, leaning back a little more. I trail my hand down his front, gently snapping the elastic waist of his boxers. He presses his ass back against me, my cock fitting right between his cheeks, warm and snug.

  My energy surging, I kiss the back of his neck again, this time sliding my hand through the opening of his boxers. My fingertips make contact and he sucks in a breath, jerking against my hand.

  “Jared,” he whispers, a plea. “Oh god, Jared.”

  I stroke him slowly, growing harder and harder against him, the heat under the comforter building until it’s almost unbearable.

  “Take these off,” I tell him, snapping the elastic again. I don’t wait to see if he follows orders, he’s good about that. Instead, I roll over to fetch what we need from the nightstand. I’ve gotten pretty good at getting a condom on with one quick move, and experience tells me just how much lube I need.

  “Where do you want me?” Hunter asks, starting to roll over. I push him back into place.

  “Right where you were,” I tell him, sucking at the place where his neck meets his shoulder, scraping my teeth over the spot that makes him shudder. I slide my hand between us, my slick fingers finding his backdoor with practiced ease. He bends one leg to give me better access, first one, then another finger sliding right in, a gasp greeting each one, his whole body jerking before he clenches around me. Hunter reaches back and grabs my cock, stroking me, pulling me toward him.

  I can’t deny this man anything he asks of me, certainly not this. I pull my hand back and let him guide me to him. I wrap him up in my arms and sink deep inside him until our bodies are completely joined and there’s no telling where one of us ends and the other starts.

  “Fuck, Jared,” he whispers, practically trembling in my arms. “I haven’t ever… You’re so deep,” he pants, fingers lacing with mine.

  “You never fucked while spooning?” I ask, chuckling lowly in his ear. I’m not going to admit it’s a first for me too. There’s something about it that feels so intimate. So romantic. Not something I really looked for in my hook-ups before.

  “N-no…fuck,” he gasps as I withdraw and fill him again. “That feels so good,” he mumbles, holding my hand tighter.

  “So, so good,” I agree, thrusting again. I love the way he gasps when I fill him. I love how he presses back against me, how he’s holding onto me as much as I’m holding onto him.

  It’s easy to find the right rhythm with Hunter. Easy to find the spots that make us forget everything but each other. What’s not easy is letting it end. I want to stay like this with him forever, in this bed, fucking him until we can’t move anymore.

  I know his body well now, though. I can see the signs of him getting close, and I know just how to touch him to push him over the edge. Even though I’m expecting it, the way he clenches around me when he comes is too much. It triggers the chain reaction that sets off my own orgasm, and we both come trying to keep quiet, moans muffled by pillows and blankets.

  After everything’s cleaned up, we’re right back in the same position, spooning again, only this time sleep comes fast like I expected.

  “Jared… Jared, your phone,” Hunter groans, hitting my arm.

  The bedroom’s lit lavender in the early-morning light, and squint at my phone, buzzing on the nightstand.

  “Shit,” I mutter, pulling myself upright. “Hello?” Hunter’s sitting up now too, the alarm in my voice enough to make him worried, sending me questioning looks.

  “Yeah, okay, I’m heading out,” I answer, giving him an apologetic look. “I’m sorry.”

  He frowns. “You’ve hardly been home six hours.”

  I lean forward and kiss him, heart fluttering. As much as I hate to leave him right now, I’m so ridiculously happy. Hunter’s not just my best friend and an amazing lay. He’s a guy I didn’t think really existed: one I can see myself falling for. Like really falling for. The forever kind of falling. Last night really solidified that for me. It’s all so simple and right with him.

  “The power’s out downtown and the grocery store’s generator is out. It’s just a matter of time before looters start—”

  “You’re joking,” Hunter scoffs. “Looters, in Gateway?”

  “People get crazy in this weather. Promise me you’ll stay here? I don’t want to have to worry about you too.”

  He scoffs again. “Easy for you to say. What about all the worrying I’m going to do?”

  “You’d do all that worrying anyway, admit it.”I grin, kissing him once more before I pull myself out of bed, jump in a quick shower and return to the bedroom to start getting dressed.

  He sticks his tongue out at me.

  “Don’t forget your inhaler today!” he calls as I head to the door.

  My stomach flips. There aren’t many doses left in it, and I’m out of the other medicine. I need refills on them both, but there’s no way the pharmacy is open today. It’ll be a miracle if it opens at all this week. The snow’s stopped for now, but everything’s under a heavy blanket of white. It’ll be a while before the roads are clear for civilians to get back to work.

  My throat’s still tight and sore today, and I feel the sniffles starting already. I take another dose of cold medicine—it’s been eight hours since the last, even if it doesn’t feel like it—and then dig through my shaving bag until I find an old expired sample of Singulai
r. It’s not what I need, but it’s something. I can’t afford an attack right now. There’s too much to do.

  “I’ll see you tonight,” I promise, leaning in for a kiss before I leave. Hunter’s already up, tending to the animals, and he makes a face before nodding.

  “Chili for dinner.”

  “Mmm, sounds good.”

  “I’m a fireman, so you know it is,” he answers, cracking a smile. I’m glad to see it. I hate knowing how much he’s twisting himself into knots over me. I’ll be all right. I always am.

  The drive into town is no less harrowing in the daylight. The snow hides obstacles and pitfalls, and there are about a dozen times I’m sure I’m stuck. Only once do I actually have to get out and push the car. By the time I’ve got it free, I’m sweating a lot, I feel weak and cold despite the sweat.

  It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out I’m running a fever. I just hope the cold medicine can do something for that because there’s no way I can take the day off work. The town needs its chief of police too much.

  Chapter 10

  Hunter

  I can’t believe how much snow came down overnight. When Winnie and I head out, Jared’s footprints are deep in the snow, the walk buried in six inches or more.

  “Let’s go check on the chickens, huh?” I ask Win, shoving my hands in my pockets, looking down the long drive at Jared’s tire tracks. I really hope he’s going to be all right out there. I know we’ve all weathered storms like this before, but I also know Jared’s all too eager to push himself past his limits. Especially since he’s taken over as chief. It’s like he’s got this need to prove himself, to be superman. None of the previous chiefs have been out on the streets helping fend off looters. That’s what the beat cops are for. But Jared’s a ‘lead from the front lines’ type of guy. I don’t think he’d know what to do with himself if he was stuck in his office a whole day.

  I open up the coop for the chickens to explore their sun room, and brush the snow drifts away from the structure. The chicken coop is designed to retain heat really well, a thick layer of bedding on the floor that composts and insulates. The sun room gives them the space to fluff out and spread their wings in the sun a bit since they’re normally all huddled up for warmth in the coop. There’s not much cuter than a big ball of cuddly feathers when they’re all tucked in together.

  “Shoo,” I warn Winnie, her nose getting a little too close to the coop. She’s a good dog, but she also comes from a long line of working dogs and those instincts are hard to overcome. If a chicken makes a wrong move, her biological drive to hunt and retrieve it might just take over. I’m not taking those chances.

  Winnie backs up, then gets distracted by something moving in the snow, taking off. I let her burn off energy like this whenever I can. She always manages to have plenty to spare anyway.

  The chickens and their expanded home all look like they’ve weathered the storm for now. The sky still looks pretty ominous, and the constant wind tells me Mother Nature isn’t through just yet. I’ll let them enjoy the sun long enough for me to make the rounds and clear the walk some, but that’s probably all they’ll get before the snow starts again.

  Like round one wasn’t bad enough.

  I check on the barn cats, chase Winnie in the snow, and shovel the walk. By then, I figure it’s late enough that Jared might’ve texted me to let me know how things are going, so I head inside where I actually get a signal.

  I’ve got a text, but it’s not from Jared, it’s from Dane.

  We’re covered here. If you’re home, stay there.

  I’m not the only one in the text chain, there are a couple of thumbs ups, a ‘Godspeed’ from Tanner. I add my thumbs up to the mix and stare at the screen for a long minute.

  Jared hasn’t texted me for a reason. The reason is probably that he’s busy, not that he’s dying in a ditch. Knowing that in my brain and convincing my gut are two very different things. He’ll text me when he has a chance. I don’t need to text him. I’d just be interrupting, he probably wouldn’t be able to answer, and then I’d be even more freaked out.

  Instead, I need to find a way to occupy myself. I’m not going into the station, the animals are good…

  There’s always wood to be chopped. That’ll take my mind off things. Hard physical labor, working up a sweat, exerting myself until my muscles are burning and protesting—it works for a little while.

  Before too long, the snow starts again.

  I keep working through it, but it starts coming down heavier, the flakes big, fat and fluffy. The kind that stick to everything.

  No use fighting it. I need to put the chickens inside and head in myself. There’s got to be something I could clean.

  Hours go by and I don’t hear from Jared. Finally, I cave and text him. There’s only a couple hours left on his shift. Surely he should be getting a break sometime soon.

  An hour before his shift ends, I pull the chili out of the fridge and start warming it up. I’ve probably got enough time to make cornbread to go with it. That’ll make me forget how worried I am.

  Yeah, right.

  I’m not going to forget how worried I am about Jared because I can’t stop thinking about him. I’ve always known he’s an integral part of my life, but now I’m starting to figure out I don’t want to live without him. The two of us together… We’re just right. The thought that something—anything—could keep us apart tears me up inside.

  The door crashes open and I nearly drop the cast iron skillet on my feet. Winnie rushes out of the kitchen, grumbling and half-barking; I’m already grinning, relief flooding through me.

  “Holy shit, talk about a storm,” Ryder says, sapping out every ounce of relief I felt a second ago.

  What the hell is he doing coming in the front— Shit, I didn’t shovel the way to his door, It’s probably completely snowed in.

  “Where’s your boyfriend?” he asks, shaking snow out of his hair all over my kitchen. “Ooh, is that chili?”

  “Work, and yes. There’s plenty if you want some, but I’m making cornbread if you wanna wait an hour.”

  Ryder makes a face. “He’s working in this?”

  “And where were you?” I ask. I really don’t want to dwell on Jared and how he’s been M.I.A. all day long. “I figured you were up hibernating.”

  He shrugs, pulling a beer from the fridge. “Old friend called worried about some trees on their property. Too much heavy snow, branches hanging precariously over the house—you know the drill.”

  “You should’ve brought me with you.” Tree trimming is kind of my thing. Maybe it’s Ryder’s too and I never realized it. We grew up racing up trees like bear cubs. The hardest thing was learning how to do what I’ve always done while tangled up in a harness and all the other safety equipment.

  Ryder shrugs. “It was simple enough to do on my own. Besides, they asked me.”

  I narrow my eyes at my little brother, getting more suspicious. He’s being pretty cagey about who this friend is. Has he been seeing someone since he’s been in town?

  “When’s Jared supposed to be home?” he asks, masterfully deflecting. And now we’re back on my topic. Great.

  “Soon,” I answer, not wanting to look at the clock. Still too long.

  Ryder leans across the kitchen island, frowning at me, giving me that x-ray look that only a brother can.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I roll my eyes. “Just look outside! Like you said, he’s out there in that. What do you think is wrong?”

  Ryder’s still frowning. He takes a drink, calm despite my outburst.

  “I’m sure he’s—”

  “Fine, yes. I know. He’s probably fine. But I don’t know that. How could I? It’s not like I’ve heard a single peep out of him since he left this morning. For all I know—”

  “You haven’t talked to him?” Ryder asks, and now his frown shifts to concern. It just ramps up my anxiety now that someone else is validating it.

  “I texted h
im, but I haven’t heard anything back. I’m trying not to be crazy and harass him all day, but I just want to know he’s alive, you know?”

  “Call him,” Ryder says. “You’re not harassing him with one phone call and you’re making yourself crazy over nothing. Worst case you inconvenience him for a minute.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yes. Do it, or I’ll do it for you,” he says, zero patience for my waffling.

  “Fine.” I’m not going to look like a chicken in front of my baby brother. No way. Once the cornbread is in the oven, I dial Jared’s number.

  It rings, then goes to voicemail.

  “That’s weird…” It’s like his phone is off. But I have never known Jared to turn his phone off. He’s too tied to his job.

  I try again with the same result.

  Ryder can tell what’s up from the duration of the calls.

  “Maybe the network is down?”

  “We’ve got the same provider. I’m going to call the station. That’s not too much, is it?”

  He shrugs. “They’ll probably know where he is better than anyone else.”

  “Yeah,” I agree. For once my brother’s talking sense. It doesn’t hurt that he’s saying exactly what I want to hear right now.

  It takes me a minute to find the number for the station, getting more anxious every minute I’m not on the phone with someone who has answers.

  When I hit dial, nothing happens. I wait for a ring, but all I get is a click. Click click. Dead air.

  “I think the network just went—”

  Lights flicker, and the whole house goes dark.

  “—out.”

  Chapter 11

  Jared

  “Just a little bit more,” I call down from the roof, feeling a little dizzy when I look down. I shouldn’t be up here, but someone needed to get the snow off the roof and there’s no way I am sending Nick up here. He’s only thirty years older than me, but he’s already had two heart attacks and an open heart surgery a few years ago. He’s got no business shoveling snow, and none of his employees could come in.