Chasing Fire
Page 89

“You need ice cream,” Gull decided. “What flavor?”
“Oh, no, I—”
“Ice cream,” he repeated, “is guaranteed to cut the gloom. What would you like?”
“You might as well pick something,” Rowan told her. “He’ll just keep at you otherwise.”
“Mint chocolate chip. Thank you.”
“I’ll be back in a minute.”
Only more awkward now, Rowan thought as Gull jogged back in the direction of the ice-cream parlor. “I guess you saw the group from the base.”
“Yes. Leo started to cause a scene, which might have escalated. But between Matt, then the police coming in, it died off into awful tension, resentment, grief, smothered rage. And, enough.” She closed her eyes. “Just enough of all that. Will you sit? You know your delightful man took off not only to get me ice cream but to give us a few minutes on our own.”
“Probably. He likes to put things in motion.”
“He’s gorgeous, and strikes me as tough and sweet. That’s an appealing blend in a man.” Ella angled on the bench, putting them face-to-face. “You’re uncomfortable with me, with my relationship with your father.”
“I don’t know you.”
“No, you don’t. I feel like I know you, at least a little, because Lucas talks about you all the time. He loves you so much, is so proud of you. You have to know there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for you.”
“It’s mutual.”
“I know it. Just as I know if you made it a choice between you and me, I wouldn’t stand a chance.”
“I’m not going to—”
“Just let me finish, because you don’t know me and, at this point, don’t particularly like me. Why should you? But since we have this opportunity I’m going to tell you your father is the most wonderful, the most endearing, the most exciting man I’ve ever known. I made the first move, he was so shy. Oh, God.” She pressed a hand to her heart, her face lighting up in the dappled sunlight. “I’d hoped we’d get to know each other, date, enjoy each other’s company. And we did. What I never expected was I’d fall in love with him.”
Battling a dozen conflicting emotions, Rowan stared at her melting ice cream.
“You’re so young. And I know you don’t think you are. But you’re so young, and it has to be impossible to understand how someone my age can fall just as hard, as deep and terrifyingly as someone yours. But I have, and I know where the power is, Rowan. I hope you’ll give me a chance.”
“He’s never... He hasn’t been involved with anyone since my mother.”
“I know. That makes me very, very lucky. Here comes Gull. From where I’m sitting, we’re both very lucky.”
Gull skimmed his gaze over Rowan’s face before shifting to Ella. “Here you go.”
“That was quick.”
“We call him Fast Feet.” Not sure what to think, Rowan attacked the drips running down her cone.
“Thank you.” After the first taste, Ella smiled, tasted again. “You were right, this cuts the gloom. Take my seat,” she said as she got up. “I think I can walk this off now. It was nice to talk to you, Rowan.”
“Yeah. You too.” Sort of, Rowan thought, as Ella walked away.
Gull sat, looked after her. “She’s hot.”
“Jesus Christ. She’s old enough to be your mother.”
“My aunt’s also hot. A guy doesn’t have to want to sleep with a woman to acknowledge the hotness.”
“She said she’s in love with my father. What am I supposed to say to that? Do about that? Feel about that?”
“Maybe that she has good taste in men.” He patted her thigh. “You’ve got to let these crazy kids work these things out on their own. Anyway, my first—if brief—impression. I liked her.”
“Because she’s hot.”
“Hot is a separate issue. She was sitting here grieving for a friend’s loss, worried for that friend and what she might still have to face. Empathy and compassion. She’s pissed off at Leo Brakeman, which shows good sense and a lack of hypocrisy. She told you how she felt about your father, when it’s pretty clear you’re not too crazy about the whole matchup. That took guts, and honesty.”
“Maybe you could be her campaign manager.” Rowan sat back. “She dropped it in my court, and that was smart. I have the power. So you can add smart to her list of virtues.”
“Would you rather see your dad with somebody dumb, selfish, coldhearted and hypocritical?”
“You’re no dummy, either. Hell, let’s buy two bottles of tequila. I could use a good drunk tonight.”
“Who says I’m a good drunk?”
Rowan checked in on Matt when they got back to base, and found him sitting on the side of his bed tying his running shoes.
“I heard it was pretty bad.”
“It was, but it could’ve been worse. Why he wants to blame me and L.B. and, jeez, Marg and Lynn for Dolly getting fired? She brought that on herself.”
Good, she thought, he was pissed off, not broody. “Because people suck and generally want anything crappy to be somebody else’s fault.”
“At the damn funeral? He starts yelling and threatening us at his daughter’s funeral?”
“At my mother’s funeral, her parents wouldn’t even speak to me. They wouldn’t speak to me really loud.”
“You’re right. People suck.”
“We’re going to have a tequila shooter contest in the lounge later. You’re on third load, too. I’ll float your entry fee.”
That got a smile. “You know I can’t compete with you there. I’m going for a run. It’s cooled off a little.” He fixed on his cap. “I got to see the baby anyway, and even held her a few minutes. I’m thinking my parents ought to talk to a lawyer, about custody or rights and all that.”
“That’s a tough call, Matt.”
He gave the bill of his cap a quick jerk into place as he frowned at Rowan. “She’s their blood, too. I don’t want to screw with Mrs. Brakeman. I think she’s a good person. But if that dickhead she’s married to goes to jail, how is she supposed to take care of Shiloh all alone? How’s she supposed to pay for all the stuff Shiloh needs on her salary cooking in the school cafeteria?”