Page 1 of Hot Rucking Canadian

Chapter One

Travis

“You riding home tonight, Travis?” Jemima eyed me with those otherworldly blue eyes of hers.

“Yep.” I tapped my helmet on the chair next to me.

“One, and then water.” She snagged a glass, poured me a sleeve of beer, and placed it before me.

Some nights I grabbed transit here, drank like a fish, and slid into a cab for the ride home. Expensive nights, those, but well worth it. Those were nights I assumed I’d be going home alone.

Tonight, against all odds, I hoped for something different. “Thanks Jemi.”

“You bet.”

Her weird accent was something I hadn’t ever been able to place, and I’d never bothered asking. I was also pretty certain she was queer, but I’d never asked about that either.

She just sort of manned the bar and left me in peace. Occasionally, though, she’d point out someone she thought I might hook up with.

Hook up.

Because that’s all guys ever wanted to do with me. No one looked at the tats, earrings, facial scar, and perpetual scowl, and thought,yeah, there’s the guy I want to spend the rest of my life with.

That was fair.

Jemima once—just once—suggested maybe if I smiled more, I might get lucky. I was allowed to smile in her gay bar, she maintained.

The bar that was on the seedier side of both town and less chic than some of the other upscale places on Davie Street in downtown Vancouver.

I worked in the core of the city, doing construction each day. Escaping to the east end felt like traveling a million miles. I preferred not to go back, even for the promise of getting laid.

Not to say I didn’t venture over some weekends. To see how the other half lived. I wouldn’t have gone so far as to say I was an oddity—this was the gayest part of pretty much all of British Columbia—but I stood out. Sometimes in a good way and sometimes not.

“You looking tonight?” Jemima's blond hair swayed as she returned from delivering a drink to the other end of the bar.

As far as I could tell, she pretty much lived here. I’d never been in the place without finding her tending. “Do you ever get a break?” I squinted in the dim light.

She cackled. “Honey, you don’t want to know what happens to this place when I’m not around.”

Which didn’t precisely answer my question. “Yeah, I’m looking.”

“Maybe that cute ginger will come back. He was a looker.” She fanned herself.

I winced. Yeah, Finnhadbeen a looker.

Adorable redhead who had come in all the way from Cedar Valley, looking for a night of fun. He usually made his way over to Davie, but had decided to try this place for one night.

My lucky night.

Except he’d only been looking for a good time. He lived in Mission City—Vancouver was a bit of excitement in his life.

Personally, I thought being a firefighter was cool, but Finn had downplayed the day job.

He’d thought the rebar was exciting.

I’d refrained from talking about my day job. Doing ties all day required brute strength with very little in the brains department. I did what I was told to do. Once or twice, I questioned when something didn’t seem right. And those times I’d been spot-on. But that was a couple of times in nearly two decades of work—so not all that impressive.

“Now there’s a man I’d like to get to know better.” Jemima gestured to the door with her chin.

---