Fired Up(8)

He was hot. She hadn’t a date in months. And he didn’t feel like a stranger. “I’ll buy you dinner,” she decided. “You’re feedin’ me?” “Sure.” She grinned at him. “If you eat veggie burgers.” She gave him credit. He didn’t flinch. “Sounds good.” The cooking part of things went surprisingly well. She played chef while he manned the coals. They chatted while she got things going, but the conversation remained in neutral territory. He didn’t mention seeing her in her skivvies or their late-night calls. Instead, he caught her up on the park news, describing a couple of recent calls. She didn’t have much to contribute. She loved sitting in the watchtower, loved the peace and quiet of it all, but those calm days didn’t make for exciting storytelling. What was she supposed to say? I saw a bear yesterday? Or, hey, I called in that smoke you spent ten hours busting your ass to knock down—glad I could help? Honestly, she wasn’t sure what she’d expected—maybe for him to pounce or make some kind of