Tyler knocked on the doorjamb.
“I’m decent,” I said.
He leaned against the wooden frame, crossing his arms. “You are grossly underestimating yourself.”
“What?” I said, rubbing moisturizer on my face. Spending so much time in the dry mountain air, my skin felt like sandpaper. It didn’t help that I’d forgotten my sunscreen one day, and my nose was beginning to peel.
“Nothing,” he said. “I meant what I said earlier. If you need a place, one way or another, we can make it work.”
“We can’t live together, Tyler. We’ve already got this weird friends-with-benefits thing going on…”
“Not lately,” Tyler said, almost pouting.
“And it would make things really complicated. Look at you. You’re standing outside the bathroom door so the guys don’t walk by.”
“I’m protecting your virtue,” he teased.
“You’re jealous. They like messing with you when it comes to me. Everyone knows—”
“Everyone knows what?” he asked.
I cleared my throat. “You know.”
“No, I don’t know. Tell me.”
“That something is going on between us.” He smiled, his dimple sinking deep into his cheek. I narrowed my eyes. “Stop smiling.”
“No,” he said.
I wet my toothbrush, squeezed out a dot of paste on the bristles, and then wet it again before scrubbing my teeth.
“I do that,” Tyler said.
“Do what?” I said, my mouth full of suds.
“Wet my toothbrush twice.”
I rolled my eyes. “We must be soul mates.”
“Glad you agree.”
I bent over and spit in the sink, and then Tyler grabbed me, sealing his lips onto mine. When I pushed him away, he had a circle of toothpaste around his mouth.
“What are you doing, Tyler? Gross!”
He wiped the toothpaste from his mouth and licked his finger, winking at me. “I kind of miss you.”
I stood next to the sink, the water running, watching Tyler turn the corner, a bounce in his step. I shook my head, wondering what the hell had gotten into him. Since I’d been at headquarters, he had been professional. No late-night sneaking around, no ass grabs or even a stolen kiss—until now.
I looked in the mirror at my sunken cheeks and the happiness in my eyes. A giddy feeling swirled in my stomach, different from the tingling I usually felt when Tyler was around. The summer was flying by. He was talking about sharing an apartment, but reality was different in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by trees and seeing the same twenty people every day. I wasn’t sure if Tyler would feel the same when fire season was over.
I changed into a pair of flannel pajama pants, sweatshirt, and fuzzy socks, and then stepped out into the TV room. Nineteen hotshots were standing behind the sofa, listening to Tyler talk to a stranger in a dark suit and tie. The man was sitting on one of the recliners with a notepad and pen.
I approached the crowd, listening in.
“So, you haven’t spoken to your brother about the fire?” the man said.
“I mean, yeah,” Tyler answered. “I’m an alumnus of Eastern. He’s a student. We belong to the same fraternity, and we lost brothers in that fire.”
“But you’re sure he wasn’t there,” the man said. “I would like to remind you that I’m a federal agent, and it’s imperative that you’re honest.”
“He already gave you an answer, Agent Trexler,” Taylor said, his voice firm.
I swallowed. Tyler had gotten the phone call about the fire back in March. I wondered why they were just now questioning him.
The agent looked up at Taylor. “Did he speak to you about it?”
“No,” Taylor said. “I heard about it from Tyler.”
Trexler pointed his pen at the twin on the sofa. “And you’re Tyler.”
“Correct,” Tyler said.
Trexler looked down at his notepad. “It’s interesting that you’re a…”
“Interagency hotshot,” Fish said. “And a damn good one.”
Trexler suppressed a grin. “Your father is under the impression that you’re an insurance agent. Were you? An insurance agent?”
“No,” Tyler said.
“Why does your father think that you are?”
Taylor shifted his weight from one foot to the other, tightening his grip on his arms. I could see his biceps tensing.
“Our mother died when we were kids,” Tyler said. “It would upset our dad if he knew what we did.”
“So,” the agent said, “do you think it’s a safe assumption that he wouldn’t be aware that Travis fought in an underground fight ring for the purposes of illegal gambling on his college campus?”
“Travis wasn’t at the fire,” Tyler said, his expression blank.
“Is that all you need, agent? These boys just came off almost two weeks on the mountain. They need to rest.” Sage said, his red beard twitching when he spoke.
Agent Trexler scanned each face of the hotshot crew, and then nodded. “Sure. I’ll be contacting your superintendent to let him know I’ll need open communication. This is an active investigation, and your brother is a person of interest. Your cooperation will be the best thing you can do for Travis now.”
“Whatever,” Tyler said, standing. “Good night, Agent Trexler.”