Page 37 of Stuck With the Smokejumper

I'm having a good time watching all of it, or I would be, if half my attention weren't still stuck somewhere on a rock above Silver Bell.

Where I kissed Ivy today.

She's sitting three feet away, laughing at something Tessa said. Reid's sitting right next to her. I told Ivy I'd handle it. I haven't found the right moment yet.

The next round goes fast. Four of a kind gets built, a spoon disappears, and, again, Reid lunges too late.

“Out,” Tessa announces, delighted.

“This game is rigged.” Reid slumps back in his chair, annoyed, and watches the rest of us play through another round while he’s forced to spectate. He lasts about five minutes before he stands up.

“Trash needs to go out,” he announces, like this is a natural consequence of losing at cards. “Might as well be useful.”

I'm on my feet. “I'll help.”

Ivy looks up. She understands what's happening. She doesn't say anything, but there's a small, private kind of relief in the way she looks at me, like something that's been hanging over both of us is finally about to be settled.

Reid grabs the kitchen trash bag. I grab the recycling, mostly for something to hold, and follow him out the back door into the evening.

The night's cooling off fast. Behind us, the house is still loud, cards slapping, someone yelling about a rule violation. Out here it's just crickets and our boots on gravel.

“I really think that game's rigged,” Reid says, still stuck on it. “Tessa's got some kind of system.”

“She's just fast.”

“Nobody's that fast.”

We reach the bear-resistant container at the edge of the yard. Reid hauls the lid open, tosses the bag in, lets it slam shut. I place the recycling in the bin next to it. This is the moment, the only one I'm going to get without an audience.

There's no good way to lead into this, so I don't try to find one.

“I kissed Ivy today,” I say.

Reid looks at me. There's a pause that feels considerably longer than it probably is.

“Okay,” he says, and starts walking back toward the house.

I stand there a second before I catch up. “Okay?”

“Yeah. Okay.”

“That's it?”

Reid stops, looks at me, like he's trying to figure out what other reaction I was expecting. “What did you think I was going to say?”

“I don't know. Something.”

“Beck. I've watched you two the past few weeks. You think I didn't notice? I can tell when my sister’s interested in someone.”

“You've never told me to stay away from her, but she’s your little sister. I figured that came with rules.”

“She's not off-limits.” He says it simply, no edge to it at all. “She's an adult. She makes her own decisions. It's not my job to approve or disapprove of who she wants to spend time with. I'd never get away with it if I tried.”

“I wasn't sure how you'd feel about it.”

“I feel fine about it.” He glances over. “I like you. I like her. You two get along. I'm not going to pretend that's some kind of tragedy.”

We resume walking in silence. I think that might be the end of it, until Reid speaks again, quieter this time.