The bastard knew.
I didn’t make a secret about still enjoying Ross’s company, finding excuses to help him out on his small property. But Craig hadn’t pushed the discussion we’d had a couple of months back either. I expected that was because he knew me well enough to understand how much I cared for his brother. It didn’t matter that I hadn’t come out and said the words, well, not since I’d first come out. To this day, even after I’d left town for a few years, Craig read me well.
“What did I miss?” There was no point in pretending I’d been listening.
He snorted a laugh. “Just checking you were good with lasagne. Ross has put the container in the outdoor fridge on your back veranda for you.”
“Lasagne’s great.” It seriously was.
While Ross wasn’t the best of cooks, he didn’t screw up three dishes—lasagne, chilli, and stew. He could ply me with those all he wanted, especially after eight hours at work before being called away for the fire.
“I’ll get you dropped off then.”
“Cheers,” I said, already opening my phone, which I’d stored in the glovebox, and shooting Ross a message to say thank you.
“It would be good to catch a break tomorrow.” Craig’s words were followed by a jaw-cracking yawn.
I followed suit, yawning loudly and wishing the same thing. “Right. We need this weather to break, that’s for sure. This whole hell-on-earth thing the country’s emulating is the pits.”
“I hear ya. Your boss still being good about you volunteering?”
I nodded, another yawn joining the action. “Yeah, Jacko’s cool. His brother’s a firie too, so he gets it.” It would have been piss poor if he hadn’t, especially in our relatively small county and with the high threat of continued fires still in our future.
“Your dad get home okay earlier?” I asked. Craig’s dad, Tom, was a firie too and had been out early this morning.
“Yeah. He’s fine. Got home and is resting up. He’s keeping an eye on what’s happening in Bulla Creek.”
I frowned, all too aware that Bulla Creek was seeing more action than us and that Craig’s parents’ place was one of the first larger properties that side of town.
“Just make sure you call if the threat is one we need to make note of, yeah?”
“Thanks, Dan.” Craig cast me a small smile, his focus returning quickly to the darkening road ahead.
Craig’s folks’ place was like my second home, or maybe third, considering how I struggled to keep away from Ross’s, despite the broken promise to do just that. The thought of his parents losing their place, and more importantly being in danger, sent a shot of unease in my gut.
We needed the weather to change. I didn’t want this to become the norm—living in a constant state of dread.
But like everything, we’d ride it through and take the good with the bad. And knowing I had Ross making me lasagne and taking care of me from a distance was the reminder I needed that moving home was a good thing.
Before long, we were pulling up in front of my rental, and I was dragging my arse to the front door, having said goodbye to Craig. Once inside, I tugged off my boots and headed straight for the small laundry, where I stripped and shoved my clothes in the washing machine.
I pulled on a pair of shorts from the clean linen basket and immediately headed outside to the small beer fridge I kept out there next to my outdoor setting.
The smile on my face was immediate when I pulled out the container Ross had left me. On top was a sticky note.
Shower, eat, rest, and be safe!
I peeled the note off, and like the lovesick fool I was, stuck it to my fridge once in the kitchen. Placing the container in the microwave, I set the timer and then went to shower off. Ross’s instructions were a no-brainer.
Dirty water soon swirled down the drain as I scrubbed at my skin, wrinkling my nose at the smell of smoke that clung to every pore on my body. Even after washing my hair twice, the scent remained, but the citrus helped wash some of it away. Though smelling like burnt orange wasn’t perhaps the best scent ever.
It would have to do.
Throwing a clean pair of boxers on, I looked around my room, groaning at the pile of dirty laundry I’d yet to shift. For at least another day it would have to wait.
Honestly, I was just grateful for clean skin, carb-loaded food, and a bed to sleep in.
The air conditioning came a close fourth, and I switched on the unit in my bedroom to cool down my room. It wouldn’t be long before I hit the hay, and a room that didn’t resemble an oven would mean I’d settle better.
