Burns So Bad (Smoke Jumpers) (19 page)

All that running had taught him was how to go faster and further. He didn’t know a
damned thing about sticking things out. About being a father and a partner. And
there were worse things than leaving. What if he stayed out and
then
he screwed it up? Words could cut
worse than fists.

He ran a hand down Gia’s back,
savoring the gentle rise and fall.

Tomorrow.

They’d talk tomorrow.

Gia woke up with sticks poking her
in unmentionable places and a stone-cold ass, but her front was toasty warm.
The heat was because she was plastered against a warm male body.
Rio
. Her brain was happy to auto-rewind
and re-play last night. She and Rio had had sex. Sex that was
sure to figure prominently in her fantasies for years to come—except for
that moment when the condom had broken.

Well,
shoot
.

Broken condoms were no guaranty of
pregnancy, but she’d have been a whole lot happier if they’d finished the act
without that particular twist. Rio’s concern had been sweet and more than a
little frantic. Since he wasn’t the one who’d have to carry a baby around for
nine months—and that was just for starters—she had more to worry
about than he did.

She wasn’t thinking about this. Not
today. She already had a long list of problems demanding attention. Potential
baby could take a number and get in the queue.

Rio ran a hand down over her hair,
interrupting her thoughts.

“We need to get going,” he said
quietly. “Five minutes, okay? Do what you need to do, we’ll check your ankle
and then we’ll move out.”

She took that as her cue to head
into the bushes because there were some things she wasn’t doing in front of
him. The air was still dark, but tinged with that lighter grey color that came
right before sunrise. She did a mental inventory and discovered a very personal
twinge deep inside where Rio had been, plus a large collection of bruises from
her slide downhill. But her ankle… clearly, an overnight rest hadn’t been
enough. No such luck. A throb of pain warned that forcing her foot back inside
the boot was a bad idea, so she settled for lurching to her feet. Socks it was
for her visit to the bushes.

When she limped her way back, Rio
was waiting for her. He handed her a Power bar while he packed up their
campsite, disassembling their impromptu bed and erasing any trace of their
presence.

“So,” he said and she’d had no idea
such a small word could pack a world of meaning. “Your ankle isn’t better.”

It wasn’t worse. By much. “I’ll be
fine.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Color me
unconvinced. Can you even lace that boot?”

She eyed the boot she’d just
snagged from the ground. She probably
could
.
She just didn’t
want
to. Somehow,
though, she thought that distinction would be lost on Rio.

“I
didn’t sprout wings during the night. Hiking out is my only option. That, or
staying put while you go for help.”

Staying out here alone in the woods
wasn’t her first choice, but it was logical. She could hide and loneliness
wouldn’t kill her.

Rio, however, was already shaking
his head.His complete authority
should have bothered her, but this time she was in agreement with him. She’d
give him a pass. “I hiked up to the ridge. The wind shifted last night and the
fire’s headed back this way. Staying put definitely isn’t an option.

She slid her foot into the boot and
reached for the laces. “So I hike.”

He reached out a hand and covered
hers, tugging the laces away, his fingers warm and
reassuring as he took over the job. Usually, she would have batted his hand
away because she could take care of herself. This time, however, it felt good
to let him… Let him whatever. This was just about her bootlaces. She wasn’t
waving the white flag on any other aspect of her life.

He loosely laced the boot, just
enough to keep the thing from falling off her foot. Then he looked up at her.
Sexy determination was a good look for him. She could feel her face flushing.

He grinned. “I’m going to carry
you. We’ll leave the packs here, well hidden, and I’ll come back for them
later.”

###

Gia gave him a look that told him
all too clearly what she thought of his plan. Even if she was blushing and he
had to wonder what thoughts had put that color in her face.

Then she put the look into words.

“You’re crazy.”

“No,” he countered. “Staying here
is crazy, as is wrecking your ankle to make a point. Goddamn it, Gia, let me
help you.”

They were already burning daylight.
The rising sun filtered through the smoky pall, creating one hell of an orange
and gold sunrise. Color banded the sky where the early morning light hit the
smoke, but there was still a layer of pale blue above all the rest.

He pulled on his jumpsuit, tying it
around his waist. It was time to get Gia out of the woods and back to base.
That was what he needed to focus on—not last night or how sexy she
looked, glaring up at him. Forcing his mind away from his memories—and he
had a feeling last night would be one of his favorite fantasies for a long, long
time—he turned his attention to their packs. The two handguns were
definite keepers. The semi-automatic would have to go, because he couldn’t
carry both the weapon and Gia. He’d take the clip, though, and mark the spot
for a return trip. Even without ammo, leaving a weapon behind went against the
grain. He didn’t want it falling into the wrong hands.

He sorted rapidly through the
packs, keeping food, water and the bare essentials for the day. Gia continued
to stare at him.

“You’re going to carry me eight miles,
give or take, through rugged terrain,” she finally said.

She sounded skeptical, but, he
noted, she hadn’t said no. Or
over my
dead body
. Clearly, she was thinking about it.

He shot her an apologetic grin.
“Actually, I was thinking piggyback.”

She shook her head. “Glamorous,
Donovan.”

They were back to last name basis.
That was fine. He didn’t care what she called him and if using his last name
made her feel better about hitching a ride on his back, that worked for him.
He’d still be touching her. Holding her.

And getting her to safety.

She nodded, like they’d agreed on
something, and shoved carefully to her feet. He kept an eye on her, when he
really wanted to lend her a hand. He wasn’t stupid, though. While he finished
up with the packs, she pulled on her jumpsuit, following his lead and getting
ready to move out. The warmth building inside him had nothing to do with the
fire creeping closer or the rising sun. No, that heat had everything to do with
Gia herself. Maybe she did trust him. He might have screwed up big time last
night, but this he could do.

While he thought that over, he
grabbed the packs and strode off into the woods. He’d hide their stuff and come
back for it later, because he couldn’t afford the extra weight now. Gia was
hardly a large person, but she still weighed substantially more than a pack and
he didn’t kid himself. Today’s hike would be hard going.

A little quick spotting and he
found a likely candidate, a deeper depression beneath a gangly pine. Dropping
the packs into the hollow, he carefully shifted a pile of branches over the
spot. That was the best he could do. He didn’t think the growers had any
backwoods specialists in their ranks, but it didn’t hurt to be too careful.
Plus, if their pursuers did find the packs, they’d start to wonder why the
jumpers had abandoned them—and they’d find the busted up radio, which
would add a whole new level of urgency to their search. They’d know that Rio
hadn’t been able to broadcast much information if any. Stop them now and maybe
the whole thing went away.

That was a whole new level of
trouble right there.

When he returned to their campsite,
Gia was waiting for him. On her feet. The tilt of her chin warned him she
planned on being stubborn. He could out-stubborn her, though, so this would be
interesting.

“Look,” she said. “I can walk.”

Maybe she wasn’t reconciled to the
idea of him carrying her out.

“Probably.” He didn’t like the
faint lines of pain carved around her mouth and he wasn’t letting her hurt
herself just to prove a point. “The real question, however, is how
fast
can you walk?”

She bit her lip. Point to him.

Turning, he gave her his back and
slapped a hand on his shoulder. “Climb on, Jackson.”

“Shit,” she mumbled.

But she came closer. Again, point
to him.

Her hands closed over his
shoulders. Her fingers were sun-tanned, the nails short and buffed nails
because the woods was no place for polish or length. Still, her hands were graceful
and unmistakably feminine. He loved the way she married practicality with
femininity.

He held out a hand behind him.
“Mount up.”

She slapped a booted foot into his
palm. Her good foot, he noted. He boosted and she swung up and just like that
she was pressed against his back. And, hell. They had to try this again when
they weren’t hiking for their lives in the woods, because she felt fantastic. Gia
was all toned muscle and long legs, and there wasn’t an inch of space between
them. If they’d been face-to-face, he would have come on the spot. She adjusted
her position, resettling her weight on his back and he sucked in a breath at
the way her knees hug his hips. Okay, not quite perfect. Pulling her legs
around his waist, he shifted her heels away from his dick. Getting kicked
wouldn’t improve his day.

“This is ridiculous.” Her breath
huffed in his ear as she made her complaint.

“Says you.” He grinned. God, she
felt good.

She was game, too. She always had
been. Her ankle had to be swollen and painful, plus he was fairly certain they had
hostiles dogging their asses. Worse, he’d bet the growers knew all about the
access road the hotshots were working from—so they’d also have a real
good idea of where Rio and Gia were headed. It would be a race to the road.

He’d never lost before.

He wouldn’t now.

He opened the compass, got his
bearings, and got started. One step at a time. That’s how he’d take today.

“This is not in your job
description.”

She still wasn’t on board with his
plan.

“You can make it up to me later.” He
had plenty of ideas of how. He entertained himself with those fantasies for a
few minutes before that started to make walking difficult.

“Be serious, Rio.” She leaned
forward as she spoke.

“You carried me when my chute
malfunctioned,” he pointed out. “How is this any different?”

She was silent for a moment,
although he could practically hear the thoughts whirring in her head. Gia
didn’t like accepting help. Which was too fucking bad, as she needed it.

“I still think—” she said,
circling back for another attempt, but he’d had enough.

“Gia?”

“What?” She twisted her head to meet
his sideways gaze straight on. Her mistake.

“Shut up,” he said.

He took a hand off her thigh and
cupped the back of her head. Pressed a hard kiss against her lips. Since she’d
opened her mouth—undoubtedly to ream him a new one—the kiss got
deeper and hotter than he’d planned.

He adapted.

He slid his tongue deep into her
mouth, tasting and exploring. Gia was sweet and hold, her tongue stroking his
in a way that got his blood pumping and his body primed to put out a very
different kind of fire. When he finally pulled back, she was flushed, her
breath coming faster.

“We’re done discussing.”

She didn’t say anything, which was
a win for him. Settling into a steady stride, he took them both down the faint
trail. The fire road was roughly eight
miles in front of them. The sooner he reached it, the better.

They’d been hiking for three hours
when Rio knew for certain they’d acquired a tail. He’d stopped to take ten. The
terrain now was too rough to make any kind of time, the waist-high chaparral
pulling at his thighs and waist like greedy fingers. If they’d been alone out
here, he’d have gone for the machete and forced a passage through, but he
didn’t want to leave that kind of
escaping
smoke jumpers here
sign for anyone following them.

Unfortunately, his caution seemed
well placed.

“Shhh.” He dropped to the ground and
rolled, tucking Gia against his chest. Pain lanced through his shoulder at the
hit but he held on.

Her question-filled eyes met his,
but there was nothing he could do. Instead he pressed his fingers against her
mouth. Any sound now could get them killed. There was no chance their company
wasn’t packing and he estimated they had three more miles to the road. Every
step he took here was clearly visible to the trained eye, but they needed to make
good time. Good men had died in this kind of chaparral-filled wash and, if the
fire caught them here, they’d be just as dead. Thank God, the fire was still
safely in the distance.

He only needed to deal with the
near-by assholes.

Palming the handgun, he thumbed the
safety off.

Do or die.

Shoot first and he had a chance to
get Gia to safety.

So
fucking close
. A chopper swung by overhead, the bucket suspended beneath slopping
water as the bird returned from a water run. If he stood up and waved, it might
be possible to get the pilot’s attention. There wasn’t much the pilot could do,
however, and that was
if
the pilot
even realized Rio wasn’t part of the authorized ground crew. Yeah. Tipping his
hand like that was out of the question.

Sticks cracked as their company
caught up with them. There was plenty of bitching going on, the two men not
bothering to conceal their approach. And, sure enough, they spotted where Rio
and Gia had entered the wash.
Fuck.
Rio had hoped that his head start would win the day.