Page 63 of The Barn: Frost and Q
“I do know.” Q chuckled. “I’ve seen the coffee. I have tasted the horrors that is the coffee where you are. I have the espresso maker.”
Frost chuckled. “I’m serious. Are you okay? You’re doing good?”
He worried.
“You’re the one about to go fight a giant forest fire, sweetheart.”
“Sweetheart?” He wasn’t sweet.
“Butthead?”
That was closer. “Well, you’re cruising. I’m not gonna be gone long enough to forget,” he warned.
“I’m counting on it.” There was a long pause, and Quentin sighed. “God, I’m ready for you to be home, but I know you’ve got a job to do, so get out there and do it. Quit screwing around. Keep yourself whole. You’re the best in the business, but I’d feel better if you were in the air.”
“Yeah, me too.” He supposed he had to do what he had to do.
And this is what he had to do.
“Chauncey said to say hi.”
“Yeah? How’s that hot old man?”
“He looks good, solid as a rock. We should all have that stomach, man.”
Q’s laughter rang out. “It is a thing of beauty. Hell, we should invite him up to the bar and let him have a little R&R.”
“Are we going to become a firefighter resort?” he teased.
“No, firefighters can’t afford us, but I wouldn’t mind seeing Chauncey.”
“I’ll talk to him. Tomorrow’s gonna be a long day.”
“Every day that you’re not here is a long day. You be careful, right?”
“I got no choice. I have something to come home to.”
“All right, enough of this bullshit. You have to go save the world. Once you’re done with that, come home, and I promise to be good for at least an hour or two.” Q’s tone was heavy with irony.
He snorted and toed off his shoes before swinging his legs up into his bunk and stretching out. “That long? You think you can manage?”
“No, I don’t think I have a choice.”
“No, you don’t. All right, babe, I’ll talk to you later. You know where we are?”
“Yeah, I’ll have eyes on you. You know that.”
He more than knew it. He counted on it.
Twenty
Quentin stared at the guys. Really, he expected Boone to be up here bugging him, even Carson sometimes. But all three of them, including Tug? That was too much. Come on, Tug had made a special trip just to come in and see him? So this was like a fucking intervention? “What do you guys want?”
“We’re worried about you.” That was Carson, who was leaning forward on his sofa, expression one of sincerity and concern. “You seem to be a little out of control, and we thought maybe you need some help. Maybe you need… I don’t know, some care maybe since he is gone?”
“You mean my husband?” He wasn’t going to lose his temper, he hoped. Although he was on a hair trigger. Frost had been gone for ten days fighting this wildfire, and it was only seven percent contained. And now Frost was out in the mountains. The danger level was just too damn high for comfort.
“No.” Tug grinned over from where he was sprawled out and rolled his eyes. “What Carson means is your Dom, honey.”
