Scorch by Dani Collins

considerably smaller, and said, “Don’t wait. Eat .” As she picked at hers, she confided, “I was glad we got you in the divorce.”
    He glanced up, amusement pulling one corner of his mouth. “I didn’t realize there was a custody battle. The children are always the last to know.”
    She grinned. “You know what I mean. It’s always tough after a divorce, when couple friends have to decide which side of the divide they fall on. And I sympathize with Tori, I really do. Being the wife of a firefighter is a widow’s existence in itself sometimes. But she works at The Drop Zone. She should have been more prepared for the sucky side of your job.”
    “She wanted to marry a smoke eater,” he said with a shrug. “We’re always happy when we’re at the bar so I can see why she thought we were more fun than we really are. She thought the money would be better, too, not putting together that the money comes from overtime, which means working overtime. Lots of women forget that when they come onto us.”
    “The fireflies? It’s a legit job hazard, isn’t it?” She’d seen the constant attention with her own eyes.
    Vin’s gaze came up swift and straight. “Russ never encouraged anyone. Don’t think that.”
    “I don’t.”
    Russ had had his failings, but one of the reasons she had been so blindly in love with him had been his streak of loyalty. Everybody had loved Russ because he’d been decent and supportive and had always tried to do the right thing.
    “But I know the wedding ring didn’t stop the big game trophy hunters. It must be so hard for you guys,” she said with mock pity. “Should we start an online awareness campaign, do you think?”
    He buried his smirk in his coffee mug. “We’re spry and have good instincts for self-preservation. We can take care of ourselves.”
    “Yeah? What happened to yours with Tori?” It was banter. She meant it as teasing, but he fell silent.
    “Sorry,” she murmured.
    “No.” His gaze came up, mouth curling with self-disgust. “Truth? You and Russ made it look easy. Tori chased me for a while. Seemed determined. I’d seen that act.” He nodded at how obvious Jacqui’s adoration of Russ had been.
    She blushed. He wasn’t being unkind. His gaze was reflective and dimmed like he had fallen short in his own estimation.
    “It led me to believe I might get what you two had. Which sounds really sad so let’s shut that down right now.” He scooped egg into his mouth.
    “It’s not sad.” The expression of self-contempt on his face bothered her, but she was kind of torn up about the statement as a whole. “That’s a really nice thing to say, Vin. It is. Thank you. But Russ and I had our problems, same as any couple.”
    She frowned, thinking about that empty chamber in her heart that she had hoped a baby would fill, since her husband had left it as unfinished as their house.
    “We looked really good from the outside because we worked hard to give that impression, not because it was true.”
    His brows went up, surprise turning to a penetrating frown. “What do you mean?”
    She opened her mouth. It was her turn to wish they could shut down this conversation, but she had started it. Maybe she was dying to get it off her chest.
    “Everyone knew I was in love with him from day one. They egged him on to ask me out, watched us date, and even his proposal was a public event.”
    At the time, it had seemed fun and romantic to have one of those proposals that was shared online, firefighters line dancing below while she stood in the jump tower, Vin by her side, filming it with the camera they used to give feedback to the rookies.
    Now she looked back on it, she wondered if Russ hadn’t been more enamored with having a reason to spend time goofing around with his crew, preparing to perform the spectacle, than he had been with actually marrying her.
    “We were this epic romance that played out like a soap opera. Everyone was highly entertained by the way I lit