Maren sends a long line of laughing emojis, but they’re nothing compared to the grin on my face.
Maren: Sweet dreams
Maren: Hug Lola for me. I didn’t get to tell her goodbye
Ozzy: I will. Be safe <3
And I love you.
I almost type the words. But at this point, knowing how badly she wants to hear them, I feel like I need to make the moment memorable.
Chapter Thirty
Maren
Four fires in ten days.
Countless texts with Ozzy.
A dozen or so rounds of poker at the base.
And I crocheted a cat toy from a kit for Bandit.
It’s been a solid start to the fire season.
On my final day, I make eleven drops before sunset and return to Missoula for five days off.
As much as I want to head straight to Ozzy’s, it’s late, so I drive home. When I walk in the door, KC and the Sunshine Band’s “Please Don’t Go” plays from Will’s Amazon Echo.
I chuckle while setting my bags by the stairs. Will pokes his head around the corner from the kitchen with a banana in his hand as a microphone while he sings the lyrics. Without interrupting his performance, I slide my arms around his neck. His free hand hooks my waist as we dance, and I fall into a fit of laughter until we nearly stumble to the floor, tripping over each other’s feet.
“Don’t gooo ...” Will belts the tune, dropping to his knees.
I pluck the banana from his hand, peel it, and take a bite.
“Maren.” He draws out my name while I turn down the volume. “If you leave, I’ll be all alone.”
I giggle, seeing a new side to Will since Jamie and Fitz moved out two weeks earlier. “Maybe you’ll commit to love. There’s a doctor who hasn’t had sex since you took her v-card. She’s waiting for you to bring her the glass shoe.”
Will stands and grabs my hand to take a bite of the banana. “That’s bullshit,” he mumbles. “You’re my backup. Don’t get too cozy with that mechanic.”
I relinquish the banana and pour a glass of wine. “I’m moving outjustso I can get cozy with him without having to time things perfectly between your work schedule or climb in through his bedroom window.”
Will pauses the bottle at his mouth. “Mare, you climb in through his bedroom window? Like, up a ladder?”
“He’s in the basement.” I sip my wine.
Will smirks and shakes his head. “Well, you’d better come see me.”
“Why can’t you come to see me?”
“Because you have a fucking cat.”
I cringe. “Younevermentioned it.”
“Well, if that cat’s still alive when we get married, you’re getting rid of it.”
I snort. “Ifour lives hit that sad, pathetic point where I’m willing to marry someone who feels like a brother to me because no other man will marry me, then I’ll get rid of the cat.”