Page 26 of Wild Fated Mate
He growled. “Reports.”
“Mmhmmm.”
“Paperwork.”
Uh oh. One-word answers. “I can see that.”
“This isn’t fire fighting.”
He growled again, the rumble in his chest deeper and louder than before. This one came from his bear. Both were frustrated.
I leaned forward and patted his chest. “It’s okay, big guy.”
Gavin grabbed my hand and held it to him, catching my eye. “Are you…patting me?”
“Yes?” The look in his eye filled me with anticipation. “You—your bear—seemed like he could use a little rub.”
“I’ve got something you could rub.”
I giggled. This was one of the many things I loved about my mate. He was still a grumpy, growly, rough mountain man. But the soft sides that peeked out, the humor and affection for his family were all the sweeter, because I knew he didn’t let them out often. Mostly for me.
I’d never tire of discovering Gavin.
“Talk to me,” I said.
He plucked my coffee out of my hand, and I scowled at him. Optimism was my default setting, but caffeine gave me a boost.
“Don’t worry, Sunshine. You’ll get your happy juice back.” He pulled me onto his lap, and wrapped an arm around my waist to anchor me there, then handed me my mug.
He gulped his own coffee and grunted a thanks.
“Talk,” I demanded.
“There’s just so much fucking paperwork. Staff reports, daily logs… I don’t know how the Chief did it. I’m not cut out?—”
“Do not pull the dumb fireman card with me.” I knew how intelligent Gavin was. His entire crew. There was much more to forestry service and firefighting than just brute strength and fearlessness. They paid attention to the land and the plant life, monitoring more than smoke and flame.
“I can do it. I don’t like it.”
“So quit.”
He glared at me.
I laughed. “Kidding.” I knew he’d made some savvy investments in a family business, but he loved being a hotshot. It was in his blood.
“It’s tedious.” He gestured to the papers, his normally pristine piles spread across his desk. “The reports are ridiculous.”
“What are they for?”
“Suits in D.C. want numbers.”
“Not seeing the problem. Data is good.”
“You would think that, wouldn’t you?”
“I like big data sets and I cannot lie.” I held up my mug that read, ‘I’ve got a spreadsheet for that!’
“This isn’t fire fighting.” He waved a handful of papers, but his gaze snagged on the radio scanner on the corner of his desk.
