Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 93096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
And the good news just kept on coming. Marjorie, a pleasant woman out with the arrival of her first kid, occupied the office right next to Tucker’s. Nice that Fred had found something other than a cube for Luis, but man, he didn’t need more reasons to run into Luis.
“Thank you.” Luis gave her a nod and tight smile, and Tucker did the same, because there wasn’t really an alternative.
“You were saying?” Luis asked as she left again.
“Nothing. Just that I’ll get all the documentation on the fires together so you can look that over, maybe you’ll see something with fresh eyes that the rest of us missed.”
Whatever else he’d been about to say could wait for better timing. Or maybe never, because it wasn’t like anything he could say now would make a lick of difference in how Luis saw him. Them being friends again, that was probably never going to happen, so he might as well put his head down, focus on work and work alone, and simply try to survive the next few weeks best as he could.
Chapter Three
Even by lunchtime, Luis still didn’t know what he wanted. Or expected. He hadn’t expected Tucker working for the forest service, that was for damn sure. And now that working together was apparently a requirement, Luis didn’t know what came next. They were both defensive and prickly, and even fetching his French press and coffee from the car hadn’t been enough to settle him down. Let’s admit neither of us really knows who the other is right now. Tucker wasn’t wrong. Luis had no freaking clue who the other man was—a devoted dad judging by his office decor, a competent worker given how his coworkers all sang his praises and how organized his process seemed to be. He’d turned Luis loose to get settled in his borrowed office, which smelled like lavender. However, like Tucker’s, it had a sliver of a high window, which Luis cracked to get a little air circulating.
He gave the absent Marjorie’s spider plant some water and carefully set her nesting doll figurines aside to make room for the few things he’d brought with him—laptop, some field equipment and gear like his boots and hard hat, and his favorite coffee mug, a stainless steel tumbler that kept his titanium-strength brew at the perfect temperature. All in all, it was a single trip out to the car for his things, followed by a meeting with Adams about some specific responsibilities.
Then Adams had headed to a lunch meeting, leaving Luis with a strange wobble in his stomach as he made his way back here to his office. Outside his window, people headed to the parking lot while others mingled in the hallway on their way to the break room, chatty clumps of twos and threes. It was fine. He’d been the new guy before. He’d figure something out, and this weird feeling could go fuck itself.
“Hey, new kid!” The boy with the floppy hair and big ears poked Luis’s shoulder as their class lined up for lunch, making Luis brace for trouble.
“It’s Luis. Not kid. And what do you want?” He gave the boy his best don’t-mess-with-me stare, the one he’d learned from his big brothers.
“Miss Martin said to ask if you brought a lunch or if you need a hot lunch. Hot lunch kids get in the other line.”
“Brought one.” Luis held up his box, which had dueling space fighters on the front. His mom had insisted on packing him food for his first day in this strange school. He still didn’t know why they’d had to buy a house here, in this tiny school district. His dad’s new job was bad enough, but Luis didn’t care how big the yard was or how nice the basement playroom was. Nothing made up for this stupid school with the kids—including this one—all looking at him like he had green hair or a third eye. You’d think they never got anyone new around here. And even the teachers were nothing like his old school. He’d loved his old teacher so much, but Miss Martin was old and smelled funny.
“Cool.” The boy—Travis? Trevor? Something with a T, whatever. Too many new names that morning. But the boy continued his appraisal of Luis, his eyes lingering on his new sneakers. “Follow me. You can sit with me.”
“You don’t have to sit with me just because the teacher said,” Luis protested even as he let the kid lead him to the lunchroom.
“She didn’t say to sit with you.” Frowning, the boy’s tone shifted to one more defensive, making Luis regret his sharpness. “I’m tired of sitting alone with the girls, that’s all. The other boys in our class this year are stupid. And my mom sent salami. Again. No one ever wants to trade with me anymore. But I figured...maybe you like salami?” His smile, both hopeful and more than a little bashful, did something to Luis’s insides, made him need to smile back.