Five Alarm Alphas Page 2

  “Cut me some slack will you? Zac pretty much came right out and said he’s not interested in me.”

  “Oh hon. Are you sure you didn’t just misinterpret what he said?”

  “I don’t see any other interpretation for him arranging for me to go on a date with another guy, do you?”

  Shannon stared at her, her mouth open. “Are you fuckin’ kidding me?”

  “Unfortunately no.” She pulled the tickets from the apron’s pocket and shoved them in Shannon’s face. “Get this—he gave me these tickets and told me I should ask Quinn out because Quinn’s been sweet on me but too shy to ask me out himself. Can you believe it? Like Quinn has ever not said exactly what he thought. ”

  “Oh, hon. Why didn’t you take ’em and shove them in his coffee?”

  She’d wanted to, though his coffee mug wouldn’t have been her first choice of insertion site. “Believe me, I was tempted.”

  “So instead you asked Quinn, just like a good little girl, didn’t you?”

  “I like Quinn.” Even though he was only three years older than her, he’d been like a big brother. Sliding over to give her a seat on the bus when no one else would—sometimes being the last one picked up on a bus route sucked. Then there was the time a senior with an entitlement issue had flicked his lighter in an attempt to set her hair on fire because she had turned him down for a date; it had been Quinn leading the charge to teach that asshat a lesson. Except, like Zac, he hadn’t shown anything but a protective big brother side to her all these years. “Besides, I couldn’t have afforded the tickets myself and we’ll have a good time.”

  Plus she would have eaten dirt to see the Dirt Road Graduates again. While she’d thrown that comment about Jake Grady in to tweak Zac’s tail, it wasn’t far from the truth. Pity he’d gone and married an accountant. Or manager. Or whatever she was.

  “So go out with him. It’s just one date.” Shannon glanced over at the duo. “A girl could do worse. Or are you trying to tell me you’re not thinking of what it would be like to have him on top of you in bed at the end of the night?”

  It hadn’t been Quinn she’d been picturing in her bed all these nights. “It’s not like I need a guy in my life right now. I mean, you’re right. Both about the diner being in shape and my apartment too.” Not that she’d brought much back home with her to unpack. “I’m happy. I don’t need a man in my life.”

  Especially one who wasn’t interested in her. She’d spent the past five years in one of those relationships and she’d vowed never again. The next guy she hooked up with would have to rock her world. Preferably starting by leaving dents in the plaster behind her headboard.

  “Of course you don’t, hon.” As Tabatha filled the last cup, Shannon added cream or sugar as needed, and snapped a lid on it. “But guys do have their good points. Of course, it’s usually between their legs, and those points are usually only good for about five minutes, until they change direction from north to south, but sometimes it’s nice to have the real thing instead of a B.O.B.” Shannon cast a quick glance over her shoulder at Quinn and Zac, who were digging through their wallets to pay the ticket. “And honey, as much as I love Dave, I’d take either of those men in a heartbeat if they asked me to join ’em. Hell, I’d take ’em both at the same time if they asked.” She chuckled. “I wouldn’t mind seeing their hoses in action.”

  “Like you’d ever cheat on Dave. You love him and you know it.”

  “Yeah, I do, which is why I want you to find the right guy too, because once you’ve landed him…” A dreamy look drifted across Shannon’s face, as she rested her chin on her hand. “I wouldn’t trade what we have together for all the chocolate in the world.”

  Shannon and her husband Dave—who was also a volunteer with the BSFD—had met when they were both twelve and had been madly in love ever since. All you had to do was look at Shannon every time Dave walked into the diner to know their bed probably had scorch marks on it. And from what Shannon had hinted, maybe a set of leather handcuffs attached to the headboard.

  That type of heat had been missing in her marriage to Billy—they’d been friends, become lovers, and got married more because it was the next step than either of them being madly in love. Neither of them had been passionate about the other; rather than the red-hot passion she craved, it had been lukewarm, like everything else in their relationship. Satisfactory, but nothing earth-shaking.

  Whoever her next partner was, she wanted fireworks and scorching heat, breath-stealing lust, bruising hunger and bone-deep passion.

  A loud beep made her start, until she recognized the ring tone Zac had assigned to a fire-house call. Quinn checked his phone but shook his head. Which meant Zac’s helicopter and aerial support was needed.

  Zac tossed a twenty dollar bill on the ticket. He strode toward the door, muttering a terse “See you later, Tab” her way before he exited.

  Quinn stood at the table, his brows drawn together as he watched Zac leave. With a shake of his head, he stopped off at the counter on his way out. “I don’t know what he’s up to—but I’ll fix it, okay?”

  Holy crap. He didn’t even want to go with her. “Wow, that’s…great.” She slapped a cloth on the counter and scrubbed at a coffee spot. “So nice of you to not even want to go on a pity date with me.”

  “Shit, that’s not what I meant. I could tell Zac cornered you into asking me out with those tickets. And we both know you’d rather go with him.”

  At this stage she didn’t want to go at all. She could give the tickets to Shannon and Dave, and…what? Stay home and eat popcorn in front of the television instead of going to a concert she’d really, really wanted to attend? “Whatever.”

  Quinn closed his hand around her wrist, stopping her scrubbing. “Look at me, doll.”

  “What?”

  With his free hand he cupped his hand beneath her chin. “I’m happy to take you to the concert. But I don’t want to be your second choice either.”

  “You’re not my second choice.”

  “Want to try that again?” He shook his head. “We both know you’ve had a crush on him since high school.”

  How could everyone tell? Did she have “Look at me Zac” tattooed on her forehead in ink visible to everyone except her? “It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t know I exist. Not as a woman anyway. He still thinks of me as your sister’s friend.”

  His expression softened into a smile. “Bullshit. That dipwad looks at you just the same way you look at him. Trust me. I’m going to make sure you have a helluva good time at the concert. With Zac.”

  If anyone could convince Zac to change his mind, it was Quinn. But… “Don’t trick him, okay? If Zac does take me to the concert, I want to be absolutely sure he’s with me because he wants to be.”

  “I promise.” After a quick tap of his knuckles on the counter, Quinn strode to the door.

  Before he could open it, she called, “Quinn?”

  His hand resting on the door handle, he paused and looked over his shoulder. “Yeah?”

  “You’re not a pity date either, you know.”

  His lips turned up, softening his grim expression. “Thanks, doll. And I promise you’ll enjoy yourself at the concert, okay?”

  “You’d better,” Shannon called. “Our girl here needs her world rocked by something other than a battery operated device. Oh, and Quinn? Tab really wants Zac to wear those leather chaps he rocked last Halloween.”

  The two ladies by the window cackled, making Tabatha groan to herself, as did Quinn’s widening grin. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  The moment the door closed behind him, Tabatha tossed the wash cloth at Shannon. “I can’t believe you said that!”

  “What? It’s true. I’ve seen your Pinterest boards.”

  Mrs. Hager brought her payment to the counter and grinned. “I’ve seen them too, Tabatha and I have to agree with Shannon. Eight hundred and sixty eight pins on your Hunky Dunky board means it’s time you went out with a real man instead of drool
ing over those photos.”

  Heat flared into Tabatha’s face as all the women in the diner laughed. Thank God they couldn’t see the images she’d posted to her private boards. “Hey! Shannon’s got almost as many on her Man Candy board.”

  Mrs. Hager patted her hand. “But Shannon’s married, hon. Now I’ll want a full report on Sunday morning when I come in after church.”

  Great, now she’d become the community project.

  “And don’t forget to post photos to Facebook,” Shannon suggested. “The decent ones that won’t get you banned. You can email me the X-rated ones. Especially if flyboy shows up in leather. And I definitely want photos if you can get him to wear them and nothin’ else.”

  A chorus of “I want to see those too!” chimed around her until Tabatha buried her face in her hands. “All right. I’ll post photos, but only of the concert. Not of afterward.” Like there would be an afterward.

  Shannon waited until the diner was empty before she approached Tabatha again. “Promise me there’ll be an afterward. Even if you end up going with Quinn. Because Quinn’s a good guy too.”

  “I know he is.”

  He just wasn’t Zac.

  Chapter Two

  As Zac reached to close his truck door, Quinn climbed into the opposite side with a scowl dark as thunder. “I’m coming with you.”

  Fucking fantastic. “If you’re planning on lecturing me, save your breath. You’re taking Tabby to the concert, end of discussion.”

  “Bullshit. Now drive.”

  Goddamned Quinn could be stubborn. “I’m going to the airport. I could be there all day so I won’t have time to drive you back and I’m not giving you the keys to my truck so you’ll have to hike back.”

  “I told you—I’m coming with you. So what are you waitin’ for, asshole?”

  Thankfully Quinn kept his mouth shut on the ride over, gathering the information Zac needed—the topography, wind speeds, locations of streams and ponds in the area where he could easily fill the Bambi Bucket.

  Quinn jumped into the passenger seat of the helicopter and put on the spare helmet, leaving Zac to do his walk-around. Once he started the engine, they were reliant upon their radios. Twenty miles from their destination, Quinn pointed out the dark plumes of smoke and softly whistled. “Looks like it’s spreading fast.”

  Zac grunted. “Crops are dried up with this drought.”

  He checked the wind speed indicator. Low for now, but the weather report said the winds were going to be picking up before sunset. Without a drop of rain in the forecast.

  The flames skated across the hayfields, eating up half a field in minutes, leaving scorched earth in its wake. On the edge of one field a farmer—or maybe it was a firefighter manning the tractor—disked a long strip in the hayfield in a desperate attempt to stop the flame from advancing and destroying the rest of his crops.

  “That guy’s got balls of steel,” Quinn muttered.

  “Just pray the wind doesn’t turn on him.”

  The Carter Valley fire department had staged near a farm house a half mile behind the fire line, while a pumper and firefighters from three other trucks aimed their hoses at an old wooden farmhouse directly in the fire’s path.

  “They’re not going to be able to save it,” Quinn said.

  “There’s always hope.” But Quinn was probably right. Zac tilted his chin beyond the cotton and hayfields toward the timberland on the other side of the south field. And the dozen houses beyond it. If it got past there, with the predicted winds behind it and the cotton and pastureland beyond, they’d be looking at thousands of acres of out-of-control wildfire.

  He circled the area to determine the best place to set down—which turned out to be a field beside the stock pond he could grab water from. As he and Quinn climbed out of the helicopter and set up the Bambi Bucket, he half expected Quinn to tackle him about the concert. But Quinn was as focused as he was, double checking the connections without extra chatter.

  Once they were done and he had started the rotors, he keyed in the mic and set the frequency to the Carter Valley Fire Department’s channel.

  “CVFD, this is Barnett Chopper One. I’m about to load up my rig. Unless you have other thoughts, I’m planning on dumping on the field just past the farm house. After I’ve soaked it, I’ll hit the west flank. It looks like it’s movin’ the fastest.”

  “Roger, Barnett Chopper One. Sounds good.”

  Quinn pulled on his helmet and clicked on his mike. “What do you need me to do?”

  “Just keep an eye out for spot fires, will you? They’re usually downwind.” Unless it was caused by a burning animal desperately trying to flee the fire. “And for Christ’s sake, keep an eye out for power lines, will you?” Those suckers could bring them down.

  “Will do.”

  The task of dipping his Bambi Bucket in the water forced him to focus on the job at hand instead of how he’d just handed Tabby to Quinn on a platter.

  Not for the first time, he wished the county could afford a bigger helicopter, one that could handle a bigger bucket. Dumping a hundred and thirty gallons sometimes felt like little more than him standing outside and pissing on the fire.

  The radio squawked. “Barnett One, we’ve got a slop-over on the north east flank.”

  “Got it.”

  It took three refills to contain the spot where the fire had broken through the line, only to discover the fire on the east flank had gained speed and was about to reach the trees he’d been eyeing.

  Three hours later the radio squawked. “Barnett One, this is CV Chief. Looks like we’ve got things under control now. Thanks for your help.”

  “Roger, CV One. Always happy to help.” From the state of his fuel, he was going to have to leave soon anyway.

  The moment the helicopter was headed away from the fire, Quinn punched him in the shoulder. “What the fuck were you thinking forcing Tabatha to ask me to the concert? Now she thinks you don’t like her.”

  Shit. “I’ll explain to her.”

  “Why the fuck didn’t you ask her out yourself?”

  “Because she likes you, dipshit, and I figured—”

  “You figured wrong, dumbass. She’s in love with you. She always has been.”

  “That’s not what I’ve heard.”

  “Then you, my friend, are fucking blind. It’s always been you she followed around like a puppy dog before you left for college. It’s been you she’s been watching since she moved back. You she serves first. Every. Damned. Time. So take her to the damned concert already. Make both of you happy.”

  They were interrupted by the radio as Zac coordinated with the Barnett Springs tower for his approach. Once they were finally on the ground and the helicopter turned off, Quinn jumped out of the helicopter and, keeping his head ducked out of the range of the slowing rotors, trailed Zac to the fuel tank.

  “What is it you’re not telling me?” Quinn cocked his head to one side, his gaze locking on Zac. “Come on, Z. You had a hard-on watching her dance back there. And it’s not the first time I’ve caught you with a boner around her. So what is it about asking Tabatha out that’s got your panties in a twist?”

  Zac grabbed the nozzle and started it pumping fuel into the gas tank. Damn, this sucker was slow. “Because I saw how you watched her while she was serving Shane and his aunt. I figured I’d be a good friend.”

  “I wasn’t watching her.” A flush crept up Quinn’s neck.

  “Yeah. You were. And you want to talk about how Tabatha’s been watching me since she moved back? Well, she’s been watching you too. She likes me but you were her champion—or do I have to remind you of that time you went after Steve Nelson on the bus?”

  A flush rose from Quinn’s neck into his face. “I may have thrown the first punch, but you got right in there too.”

  Though Quinn had been the only one who had been suspended for three days despite Zac and his father’s attempts to intervene with the principal.

  “Tab’s your
s for the asking, Z. Don’t blow your chance by forcing me on her.”

  Sweet Christ, he wanted her to be his Tabatha, even as his conscience stuffed that thought back into its box and slammed shut the lid. Padlocked the sucker.

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not? And do not tell me you’re not good enough for her.”

  “Maybe I’m not.”

  “In what universe? You’ve fixed up your place so it’s fit for a magazine spread. You’ve got a fucking great mother who most women would love to have as a mother-in-law—and you know your momma loves Tab and Tab loves her. You’re honest, straight-forward. Loyal. You’re the fucking perfect man for her.”

  Shit. At least he hadn’t brought up his bank balance. But Zac also heard what Quinn wasn’t saying. “You mean as opposed to you?”

  “Yeah. I’m not exactly a prize. Not like you.”

  Crap. He thought Quinn had gotten over his past. “Because you’re not a guy who works hard for his living, running into burning buildings when everyone else is running out, right? Who took care of his sister after your ma ran out. Hell, you even gave up your dream of going to college for her. And you’re definitely not the guy who rescued my father when he collapsed and administered CPR for almost forty-five minutes.”

  “I’m also the guy who couldn’t save him.” Pain filled Quinn’s eyes, making Zac curse himself. Even before his father had taken off, Quinn had looked at Zac’s father as his idol.

  Zac’s parents had treated Quinn like he was their own kid. He loved how incensed his mother had been to learn their mother would leave them alone, often with little food. Quinn and Val had become regular fixtures at the Buchanan dinner table after that, at least until Quinn got his first job and spent his pay checks on filling their fridge.

  “Not your fault. Stop blaming yourself. No one else does.”

  “I’m realistic. Besides, you would have done the same if Val had been your sister.”