Page 10 of Bronx

"Uh, yeah, King's waiting for me outside. Guess we'll see you guys out there."

"If not, we'll see you in the lobby for hot cocoa." She managed a slight wink my direction before Bulldozer's big, greedy hand wrapped around her slim arm to lead her away. They walked out, Layla managing one last smile my direction before the glass doors swung shut behind them. The frost left behind by my team mate, the guy I'd faced down treacherous flames with, could not be misread. Bulldozer didn't want me anywhere near Layla. It was pretty fucking rich coming from a guy who couldn't keep his hands off other women, and our exchange, as always, had been totally innocent. I would never think about trying something with Layla, no matter how much I loved her. And I did love her. I was constantly trying to talk myself out of that notion, but all it took was one short meeting in the crowded lobby of a ski lodge and I was right back to square one.

7

Kingston was busy nursing a twisted knee with a bag of ice, aspirin and shots of tequila. We'd all been having some good runs, but as the slopes got more crowded, there were accidents. Kingston had smartly taken a hard right turn to avoid hitting a young girl who was tumbling head over board down the slope. In the process, he'd turned his knee in the opposite direction of the force of his body. Now he was paying the price.

His expression morphed between glum and pain as he nursed the tequila and shifted the ice around to hit the right spot.

"I'll bet the reception desk has a pair of crutches sitting around for just such an occasion," I suggested. "I know you don't want to miss the dinner." Along with the ski trip, a dinner had been planned for team spirit, camaraderie and all that shit they expected us to maintain.

"Nah, go eat some ribs and macaroni and cheese and just forget about poor old King stuck in the room with his sad bottle of tequila." He lifted it and shook the contents. "Just remember to bring me a plate." He tried to hoist himself up straighter on the chair and winced at the pain. "Damn tumbling kid."

"Well, you did the right thing. I was sure I heard the word hero being tossed around."

He grabbed one of the pillows he had wedged next to him in the chair and hurled it at me. I snatched it out of the air and tossed it back at him. "Keep it. You might need to elevate that leg more. Are you sure you don't need to go to the emergency room? I could call over to Bulldozer's room, ask Layla to come look at it."

Kingston squinted his eyes at me. "Right, so now you're going to use my misfortune as an excuse to see your crush." He laughed. "One thing was certain, Bulldozer did not want you two on the same slope or lift chair. He made that pretty fucking clear."

Bulldozer had taken blatantly obvious steps to make sure Layla and I avoided each other. Not that his overt attempts kept me from watching that pink parka everywhere, on the slopes, on the lift, at the benches. I liked to think she wore an easy to spot parka for just that reason, only I'd be deluding myself. This crush, this imaginary thing was one-sided. Layla was Bulldozer's wife, and even though she occasionally favored me with a smile or look that seemed just for me, she had never indicated anything more than friendship. We were two people who had struck up a bond on a quiet island in the middle of a lake.

The day on the slopes had given me some definite insight into the head of Adam Rafferty. Mr. Overblown Confidence was not so confident when it came to his marriage. He went out of his way to make sure Layla and I stayed a mountain apart when all we'd ever done was exchange friendly chats and emails about cancer research. It said a lot about Bulldozer. I'd considered him to be one of those hard-nosed, self-assured big shots who always got what he wanted and rarely thought about others. But clearly, when it came to Layla, he worried he could lose her. I'd finally found a chink in his armor. For all his flaws, Bulldozer wasn't stupid. He knew he had something irreplaceable.

"Yeah, I don't know what his problem is. Layla has been helping me with Vick's illness. He's an ass." I needed a topic switch. "Guess I'll head downstairs to the banquet room. You sure you don't want to come, hobble down on some crutches?"

"I'm sure." He picked up the remote in his lap and turned on the television. "I'll watch a movie. Bring me back some food."

"Yep. I won't be long."

I took the elevator down to the first floor where the banquet room had been set up for ourcompanydinner. I recognized Bulldozer's booming voice before the elevator doors had opened completely. He was standing at the hot drink kiosk, sipping a beer and laughing it up with two young women. Neither of the women was his wife. He didn't spot me coming out of the elevator, which was good. The last thing I wanted was another confrontation about something that didn't need confronting.

I headed down the short hallway to the banquet room and stepped inside. Someone had hung a large banner that read Welcome Western Smokejumpers. Strings of paper snowflakes and twinkling lights had been hung around the room. Fleetwood Mac was streaming down from various speakers in the ceiling. It reminded me more of a senior prom than a company dinner.

A buffet with ribs, macaroni and cheese and mashed potatoes had been set up on one side of the room. Kaos was hovering over the table, piling a plate high with food. It would probably be his first plate in a series of plates. His massive size seemed to come with an endless appetite. Angus was standing at the bar. He waved me over. I headed across the room, nodding and having quick chats along the way. Everyone had the same question—how was Kingston? Since I wasn't a doctor, the most conclusive answer I could give was he's got ice on it and he's not here, eating, so it must hurt like hell.

Angus handed me a mug of cold beer. "Here, it's on me."

"I believe it's an open bar but thanks anyway." I leaned against the bar with him and scanned the room. There was only one face I wanted to see and when I found it, I was not disappointed. Layla was wearing a tight knit dress that hugged every inch of her unbelievable curves. She was holding a pink cocktail as she chatted with Mystic and her mismatched date. Layla was pointing to her forehead, which caused the guy to touch his own forehead. His pasty white complexion had turned cherry pink after a day on the slopes.

Angus elbowed me out of my trance. "Hey, usually when I buy someone a beer, I at least get conversation. Occasionally, even a blowjob, but we can skip that. What's got you so enthralled." He followed the line of sight I'd held. "Ah yes, the lovely Layla Rafferty. She is something, isn't she?" He glanced around. "And that idiot husband of hers is probably off playing grab ass with some other woman. I can see why you are so sweet on her."

I was nodding along with everything he was saying, but the last part snatched my attention from the angel across the room. I looked at him, not sure whether to be angry or stunned.

"Don't worry, your secret is safe with me. Just don't tell Bulldozer I called him an idiot." Angus shrugged and took another swig of beer. "However, I'm not sure if your secret can be kept too safe because most of us have already clued into it. And, frankly, can't blame you at all. Like I said—she's something else." He lifted his glass. "Here's to unrequited love, eh? Sometimes it's the hurt that keeps on giving, but it's kind of a good hurt, you know what I mean?"

"Not sure I do."

"Ah shit, it's the beers. I start getting into my gibberish style philosophical self when I'm drunk. I just mean it's sort of bittersweet. You can love someone, even if you can't ever have the person. It's better than never loving anyone."

I smiled at him. Some of what he said was true and some was just as he'd called it—gibberish. "I think you should stick to singing. How is the band going? Do you have a lot of gigs lined up this winter?"

"Sure do. A couple over on the east coast too. Looking forward to a New England set of groupies." He took another drink of beer. His gaze drifted over the top of his mug. "Looks like your crush is heading this way."

I took another swig of beer for fortification and glanced around to see if Bulldozer had returned to the room. He was nowhere in sight. Apparently, our little party didn't provide him with enough fresh blood to hoist his charms on. His dream of a wife, however, didn't seem to be looking for him. Layla headed straight toward me. I wondered, had she noticed Bulldozer's obvious effort to keep us from meeting? It was entirely possible that she had no idea. In fact, it made sense because in her eyes we were just casual friends.

"Hello, boys." She set her half empty glass on the bar and crinkled her nose. It was adorable. "That drink was sweeter than I anticipated."

Angus smacked down his empty mug and patted his stomach. "Think I'll go try some of that food before Kaos sucks the buffet dry." He lifted an imaginary hat at Layla. "Mrs. Rafferty," he said with his deep, mellow tone. "Bronx," he said briskly and then lumbered off.

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