Page 33 of The Map Home
Unlike Dakota’s tiny studio, Tad’s apartment was spacious and had actual furniture. His folks had helped him buy it all after he’d graduated from college. At the time, Dakota had thoughtTad was crazy for wanting a table and chairs, a bedframe and mattress, all sorts of kitchen gadgets. Waylon and Penny had offered to pay for a trip to Europe, but Tad had wantedfurniture.
When Dakota asked him why, Tad had just shrugged and said he wasn’t interested in traveling overseas at that time, maybe later in his life. Instead, he’d said, he was interested in having a good night’s sleep and being able to watch cooking shows after work and trying to make an apple galette or whatever else suited his fancy.
“Thanks for letting me crash here,” Dakota said as he brushed past Tad. “They don’t know when the heater will be fixed, I guess.”
“I would be pissed if you stayed somewhere else, just so you know. And I’m sure this is all some sort of code violation. What if you didn’t have anywhere to go? What about the rest of the tenants?” He scowled. “Tenants’ rights are too often ignored in small towns like ours. I should see if Curtis wants to do a story, we could look into the owner of the building.”
Luckily, Dakota’s building was small, only six apartments, two on each level. Having been built in the 1940s, it was definitely showing its age, which was one reason why Dakota could afford it on his first-year deputy salary. Unfortunately, it also meant upkeep wasn’t necessarily a priority for the management.
Chuckling at Tad’s newest story idea, Dakota set his duffle bag down next to the couch and shrugged out of his heavy jacket, then hung it on one of the hooks mounted on the back of the front door. He noticed that Tad had moved his couch, partially clearing out space in front of the street-facing windows. What was he up to now?
“I thought about asking if I could crash at Jacob’s,” he said as he turned to face Tad again.
Tad’s jaw dropped, tenants’ rights forgotten. “You did not,” he hissed.
“He has a big place, I think. But it’s a ways out of town. What’s wrong with Jacob anyway? He’s a nice guy.”
He was teasing Tad a little, which wasn’t entirely fair of him. When Jacob wasn’t pulling beers, fighting fires, or rescuing baby ducks from storm drains, he volunteered at the local community center. He was almost too good. Dakota thought they might be sort of friends, even if he was terrible at that kind of thing, but he would never ask Jacob for help. It was hard enough asking Tad.
“He’s,” Tad sputtered. “He’s… fine. Stupidly attractiveanda firefighter. Everyone likes firefighters.”
“But I didn’t call him, did I?” Dakota pointed out.
“Yeah.” Tad’s shoulders straightened. “You didn’t. Hah. Right. So, have you had dinner?”
He moved away, padding into his kitchen. Dakota followed after him as Tad must have known he would. He noticed that Tad’s feet were bare regardless of the fact that it was December. Tad hated socks.
He probably should have called Jacob. Jacob wasn’t dangerous.
“I grabbed a sandwich from the gas station.”
Tad scoffed. “That is not food.” Stopping at his refrigerator, he pulled the door open and peered inside. “I have a couple slices of your leftover pizza, and Mom brought some chicken and rice soup over the other day. Or I could whip up some pasta and red sauce?”
It was easier to give in and let Tad feed him than argue. Besides, Penny’s chicken soup was one of Dakota’s favorite things, which Tad was fully aware of.
“Soup sounds good.”
Bending to reach deep inside the fridge, Tad pulled out an enormous plastic container. “I think Mom expects you to eatsome of this anyway. Why else would she pack up enough to feed an army?”
Dakota jerked his gaze away from Tad’s ass. He totally should have called Jacob.
“Er, uh, yeah.”
Turning to look at him, Tad frowned. “You okay?”
“Yeah, just hungrier than I thought.” He groaned inwardly as he pulled out a chair and sat down at Tad’s prized possession, a red and chrome vintage kitchen table with four matching chairs.
Dakota was hungrier than he’d thought—but not for soup.
Just minutes later, he was spooning Penny Gillespie’s delicious soup into his mouth while Tad sat on the other side of the table and watched him eat.
“Aren’t you hungry?” Dakota asked between bites.
“Already ate,” Tad replied, his fingers restless against the tabletop.
Dakota shoveled another spoonful of almost too-hot soup into his mouth, as much as he could manage. Tad was anxious and probably wanted to talk about The Kiss, but maybe he was also nervous that Dakota would be a jerk—which was not an unlikely scenario, Tad knew him well—or act like it was no big deal.
It was a big deal.
