Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 92899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
“To Wade,” I said, remembering the cheers from the crowd.
It wasn’t friendship, but at least it was a little further from homicide than we were a few minutes ago. That was a start.
Before I could ask how he’d ended up at SERA, we were interrupted by a knock and a cheerful voice calling through the screen door. “Hey, bunch of us are heading to Timber for pizza and beer. You guys want a ride?”
Robyn, SERA’s program coordinator, glanced between us with a big smile. “Come on. It’s always good for the instructors to bond before the students arrive.”
“Yeah, sounds good. You coming?” I asked, turning to Foster.
But the scowl on his face made it clear he wasn’t interested in bonding… at least not with me. “Nah. Told Trace I’d catch up on certification paperwork.”
“Right.” I sucked in a breath and nodded at Robyn. “Let’s go.”
Timber buzzed with activity—tourists with kids overflowed the outdoor seating while SERA instructors filled the right side with noisy laughter.
“Rosso Inferno,” my cousin Alex said, shoving a glass of red wine into my hand. He’d left his parents’ vineyard in Napa to take over Timber only two years ago, and being able to spend time with him in Legacy had been a side benefit of spending the summer here. “I dare you to call this one pedantic.”
I blinked at him. “I’ve never called a glass of wine pedantic in my life.”
Even though my mind was still back in the cabin with Foster, I made an attempt to listen as Alex vented about dealing with the overly picky local fire marshal who’d been harassing him for months over kitchen upgrades.
“‘Ongoing infraction mitigation,’ he says.” Alex made finger quotes. “‘It takes as long as it takes, Marian.’ What I’d like to know is at what point I can sue Chief Stick-Up-His-Ass Kincaid for harassment.”
“Ha.” I studied the slanting sunlight hitting the surface of the wine.
“Tommy,” Alex said. “You with me? What’s up?”
I blinked. “Sorry. Head was in the clouds. Just thinking about job leads.”
“Job leads here?” His eyes widened. “Fuck yeah. That would be amazing.”
I shook my head. “San Francisco. I have an interview with Stanford, but UC Davis might be hiring, too.”
Alex looked disappointed. “But Hazel’s here. And Ella and the rest of us.”
He wasn’t wrong. I loved Legacy—had loved it since I was a kid arriving for my first visit with Gran and Gramps. My cousins and I had spent summers here for years, and several of us had fallen in love with the place enough to make it home.
“I do love it here,” I reminded him. “You know I do. But the only place around here that would even come close to the kind of work I do is in Billings. And I don’t want to live in Billings.”
We both knew I was too ambitious for a career in Billings anyway. In New York, I’d been well respected, admired, rewarded with opportunities I’d never get outside a big city.
A woman with double braids and a black Timber apron speed walked over. “Boss, need you in the kitchen. Juni’s threatening to leave over that new fire extinguisher placement.”
Alex sighed and stood. “Maybe you’ll at least agree to murder a fire marshal for me before you go. Doesn’t pay well, but comes with free wine and pizza.”
I rolled my eyes as he walked away. Nearby, a SERA helo instructor and swift-water instructor argued good-naturedly about white-water rafting shoes. I moved closer and tried to listen, though I hadn’t been rafting since college.
By the time pizzas arrived, the wine had eased my mood’s sharp edges. I was deep in conversation with a few of the other team members about creating a swift-water rescue exercise when I noticed Foster and his dog settle at the far end of our tables.
Trace clapped him on the back and moved a plate with a pizza slice on it in front of him. Chickie’s tail wagged so hard it banged against the metal chair leg.
“…operational coordination between rescue swimmers and medical personnel under time pressure, right?”
I blinked back at Robyn, who was looking at me expectantly. Trace had chosen her as program coordinator because of her ability to bring people together, to break the ice, and I felt like an ass for making her job difficult.
“Oh, er, yeah. Right.” I flashed her a friendly smile. “It’s rare to get this crossover training opportunity.”
She grinned back, setting her loose, blonde ponytail swinging.
From his end of the table, Foster shot me a ferocious scowl that had my smile dropping away.
I tried to focus on the conversation despite my distractibility. Over the next hour, I realized Foster was friendly and easy with everyone except me. When he talked about search and rescue, his face lit up—the same engaging manner he’d had in Hawaii. He commanded attention, was charismatic and kind.