After a long and wearisome shift, Chase knew just the place he wanted to be.

With Sookie, said the voice in the back of his head that sounded disapprovingly—and disconcertingly—like the chief.

Of course, Chase retorted silently. There was no place he would rather be right now than naked in Sookie's arms after a passionate round or two of make-up sex . . . not that it would technically be make-up sex, considering neither of them had anything to make up for. So what if he had seen her kiss Jason? Didn't mean a thing. Certainly it didn't have anything to do with him.

Keep telling yourself that, Kingston.

The wind in and around Cedar Springs was picking up. It had everyone worried, although they only remarked on it in hushed voices—it was not much yet, and it was almost as if the squad feared the elements themselves might overhear and get ideas if they made any significant fuss about it. The local forecasts had been in their favor so far. Just because things had been going relatively predictably with the fire didn't mean disaster might be in the air.

Chase didn't like believing in something as clichéd as the calm before the storm, but the charged feeling in the air today made him wonder if there wasn't something to it after all.

He was approaching the front of Dyna's when he spotted Sookie in one of the windows. His heart leapt into his throat, and all thoughts of the jealousy he had been grappling with since the other night were thrust immediately aside. Whoever she was with, she was engaged and smiling and beatific. Chase realized in that moment that while he’d called her "angel" at first as a joke, and then as an affectionate work alias, he’d meant what he said. Anytime he conjured a mental image of an angel now—wings, halo, and all—it was Sookie he saw, outfitted to fly, staring up at him with amusement, defiance, and something else he thought he could put a word to, if only he would let himself believe—

Sookie leaned forward across the table and punched the shoulder of the person in the opposite seat. Chase craned to the side to get a better look.

Jason Lewis shied belatedly from her fist, as if it had been his intention all along to get socked in the first place.

Jason Lewis. Jason Lewis. Jason fucking Lewis.

Chase flashed back before he could stop himself. Standing there in the diner parking lot, he suddenly found himself in a different parking lot, staring into a different window, watching a different woman laugh gaily as she sat across from his best friend. Sheila. His first love, sitting with Adam. Laughing with Adam. Batting her eyes at Adam, the same way she would flutter them at Chase—but there was nothing to it, his inner voice told him, there was no call for jealousy, hell, you should be thankful that your best friend and the woman you hope to call your wife get along so well—

A little too well, as it turned out. That had been a month before Sheila dumped him and ran off with Adam. That was the month before Chase learned he wasn't enough to more than just his father, and he'd been fighting an uphill battle ever since to prove otherwise.

Now, he felt like he was tumbling back down into the abyss.

He didn't realize he'd crossed the parking lot until his hand was already on the door. He shoved it open, and the bell chimed so hard, it sounded like it was about to shake itself apart. A few heads turned to identify him, but Sookie's wasn't one of them.

He crossed purposefully to the booth she shared with Jason, aiming to loom as he stood over them. "The two of you look cozy."

"Chase!" Sookie's pretty face molded itself perfectly to a look of astonishment. "There you are! I was looking for you."

"It's a small town, Sook. I'd say you didn't go looking very hard."

He took some sadistic pleasure in watching her wince at the reviled nickname. "Of course I didn't look very hard. There's only one place you ever go for lunch. I was here waiting for you!" she protested. She swept a hand to indicate the counter. "Look behind you, Hotshot. There are two mugs of coffee. I even saved our usual seats."

Chase didn't want to look behind him and be proven wrong. And he definitely didn't want to be called Hotshot in front of fucking Jason. Had Sookie had a similar tongue-in-cheek nickname for her ex, once? The thought made his mouth sour, and a muscle in his jaw twitched. Whatever armor he had walked in with, he was in danger of having it stripped from him. "Yeah? Looks more like I'm interrupting lunch."

"Jason was already having lunch when I got here," she said. Her gaze shuttered suddenly, and she appeared to regret rising to his bait. "What's with you? First you won't even talk to me, and now you're pissed off? Did someone pee in your coffee this morning?"

"Uh, should I just . . .?" Jason shifted in his seat.

"Stay out of this," Chase growled. The other man quickly bowed his head. "Look, I don't know what's going on here, and frankly I don't care." He committed hard to the lie and made it all teeth. "But if I was the kind of guy who did care, I would be totally justified in feeling that the two of you seeing each other this much is bullshit."

"Have you looked at yourself in the mirror recently? You clearly are angry," Sookie said. Her eyes narrowed. "And if you were the kind of guy who cared—if you really were serious about me, then you would get that I don't like being told what to do."

"Are you really so . . . thickheaded?" Chase shouted.

Now everyone in the diner was definitely staring at them. Jason's mug of coffee was suspended in his fist, and his jaw was ajar, making him look exactly like the witless bore Chase had pegged him for. Good.

Sookie burst out with a mirthless laugh. "Thickheaded? Are you serious, Kingston?"

"Fuck yes, I'm serious!" Chase doubled down. "Because the way I see it, you're either screwing this guy, or you're too stupid to realize that's exactly what it looks like!"

Sookie hurled a coffee mug at him. Thankfully, it was the overturned, empty one that had been set at the place across from Jason. Chase caught it one-handed; he actually took a half-step backward as the pilot rose and stormed toward him.

"You have no idea what the fuck you're talking about," she hissed. "As usual!" She looked like she wanted to ram her pointer finger into his chest. Hell, Chase would have welcomed it. She had done it so often before in their arguments, it would have felt like a return to normalcy.

Instead, Sookie growled in frustration and threw up her hands. She stalked past him and banged the diner door on her way out, likely leaving Chase with the tab for their coffee.

Why did he suddenly feel like he deserved to pay?

"Er . . ." Jason cleared his throat, and Chase turned in bewilderment. He had almost forgotten the other man was there. "Care to sit down?"

Had Jason asked him a split second before, Chase would have told Sookie's ex where to shove his invitation. Now, all the wind had suddenly been taken out of his sails. He felt deflated, despicable . . . and watched. Half the diner looked as if they wanted to grab their pitchforks and run him out of town; the other half looked as if they couldn't believe their good luck in getting a free show over lunch.

He took Jason up on his offer and sat down.

"I know how it must look to you, seeing us together," Jason said. "But that's because you don't know the full story. Look." He slid his cellphone across the table. Chase stared down at the lock screen. It was a photo of Jason, smiling and hugging a laughing woman who . . . was not Sookie. “I'm engaged," Jason said patiently. "Sookie and I did date in the past, but we were just kids. We thought what we had was serious at the time, of course, but—" he shook his head. "We just weren't right for each other."

Chase stared at the other man. He couldn't conceive of a world where Sookie wasn't the right one.

"I really did come back to town to check on my parents' house," Jason emphasized. "I'm not here to win Sookie back. Hell, she would probably laugh in my face if I tried."

"I—" Chase's mouth was suddenly dry. He tried to take a sip of coffee and realized he was still holding the empty mug Sookie had thrown at him.

Dyna chose that moment to swoop in with a glass of water. She slammed it down wordlessly on a coaster in front of him, along with Sookie's bill. Chase didn't need to look to know that he had been overcharged.

God, how had he let this happen? He knew he was the youngest firefighter on the squad, but he had always prided himself on his maturity and professionalism—and despaired when it seemed like Hank never saw it. Now, suddenly, he understood the score. He was immature when it came to his personal life, and so was Sookie, for that matter. Neither of them had ever had the opportunity to grow beyond their first heartbreak. Worse yet, they had run from the chance to gain any relevant experience for fear of failing or being rejected.

No wonder the accusations and drinkware were flying.

"I'm an idiot," Chase concluded and slumped down in the booth.

Jason looked sympathetic. "We all are when it comes to women, man."

Chase's pocket buzzed before he could come up with a response. He pulled it out, saw that it was Hank, and quickly pressed it to his ear. "Kingston," he said. He wasn't sure he had expended every stupid word he was capable of, so he left it at that.

"I need you to drop whatever you're doing and get down here immediately," Hank said. "Fire's picked up."

Chase was already out of the booth. "On my way. Where are you?" he demanded.

"Air strip." He could hear rapid-fire voices on the other end of the line, and the call cut out. He assumed his chief had said all he needed to say and hung up.

"Guess the coffee's on me," he heard Jason remark as he barreled out the door.

He arrived at the air strip ten minutes later, already half in his gear. He lugged the rest with him as he jogged across the tarmac to the Black Hawk. The chopper was the hub of activity as several squad guys came and went, lugging tanks between them and sliding them into the cabin. Chase's eyes locked onto Sookie, doubled over inside and helping to secure everything. He was almost to her when a strong hand on his shoulder steered him aside.

"Kingston, I need you flying with my sister today," Hank said. If his chief had feelings about the arrangement either way, he didn't show it. Chase could practically see the blaze reflected in his eyes, and they weren't even within visual distance yet. The wildfire was foremost on everyone's mind—except his. "Her copilot and crew chief are down with food poisoning today. You're the only one available to ride with her."

"Assignment accepted," Chase said unnecessarily. Hank clapped him on the back and strode off to bark orders elsewhere.

As soon as he was gone, Chase quickly adopted one of the foam tanks and lifted it into the cabin.

Sookie's hands brushed his, and she glanced up sharply, as if the sizzle between them was already enough to identify him without looking.

"Hey, Sookie," he began. "I just wanted to let you know that I—"

"Now isn't the time," she cut him off curtly. "Get strapped in and ready to fly."

"I can do that," Chase agreed, trying not to scowl as he pulled himself up into the cabin beside her.

This was going to be a long shift.