Page 32 of First Chance

“Of course, you did.”

“Are you calling me smart?”

“No.”

I finish my cookie slowly. “You totally are. That is the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

He shakes his head in exasperation. “Do me a favor, will ya?”

“Maybe.”

“Don’t drink with the guys unless I’m there.” He watches me lean my head against the side of the fridge, pondering his request.

“I’ll think about it.”

“What am I going to do with you?” He mutters again, except this time he’s close enough to hear that it’s not a rhetorical question. I think he’s really trying to figure me out.

“How did you get this scar, Lochlan?” He’s close enough that I could reach out and touch it, but I don’t dare.

He looks at me for so long, contemplating his next words, but I don’t care. I’m lost in the depths of his tortured eyes. Without the permanent furrow in his brow, I can see how beautiful they are, but still so mysterious.

They leave me longing to find out every secret he keeps locked inside his hard head. I want to listen to all his burdens.

Just as his lips part and I think he might give me a straight answer, the front door slams open and we both jump.

“LOCH! FIRE!” I don’t even know who screams the words or how I end up on the porch, but suddenly I’m standing atop the front steps watching an inferno engulf the old barn. It’s ablaze, burning so hot that I have to shield my eyes from the light.

“Did you call 911?”

“They’re ten minutes out,” Hayes explains between bursts of talking into his handheld radio. There are guys dragging hoses toward the burning structure and others moving anything that they can out of its wake.

“Why aren’t they spraying the fire?” I yell as I watch them hosing down the building next to the old barn.

“It’s too hot, all we can do is keep it from spreading.” Hayes doesn’t take his eyes off the scene as he answers my panicked question.

“Fuck! How did this happen?” Lochlan roars, stomping toward the chaos. I start after him, being pulled by a magnet, when he whips around and stops me. “Stay!” He yells, making me flinch.

Even with all of the commotion, he’s visibly distraught, noticing my body language. He takes a step toward the fire but immediately backtracks to where I’m standing immobile.

He threads his giant hands into my hair on either side of myhead and whispers into my ear, “Stay on the porch, please.”

And then he’s gone, running into the disaster zone while I stand motionless, wondering how this happened.

* * *

The smoke-filled air lingers, blocking all the early morning light. No one got any sleep, and all the guys are covered in a fine layer of ash.

“The fire chief definitely thinks it’s arson,” Sheriff Malec explains with a vacant look in his eyes. “We’ve seen something like this before.”

“Where was Frank?” Lochlan asks Seiver.

“He was in the bunkhouse all night.” Seiver shrugs.

“They’ll keep investigating,” Jackson explains. “I’m putting all my effort into finding out who likes starting fires around here.”

Lochlan nods his head stiffly, clearly full of rage over this situation. He turns and walks away, silently dispersing the rest of the group.

“Hey, give me a minute.” Jackson tugs on my elbow, pulling me to the side.

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