Burns So Bad (Smoke Jumpers) (20 page)

Nope.

Too bad, so sad.

“You see them?” The snick of a
lighter and the smell of a cigarette followed the question. The man had to be a
first class idiot because everything around them was tinder dry and the little
shower of sparks as the man ashed was pure trouble.

“Jesus, Carl. Be a little careful.
You want to kill us all?”

“Nope.” Oh, hell. Rio didn’t like
the new note in the man’s voice. Maybe Carl wasn’t a moron after all. “You see
an exit trail?”

Sunlight glinted on a pair of
binoculars.

Rio silently pulled Gia further
into the chaparral, looking for more cover. Instinct and experience both screamed
this situation wouldn’t end well.

“Then we’re golden. We know they
went in here.” The smoker gestured with his cigarette. “And we’re certain they
didn’t come out.”

“They could have.” The second man
sounded doubtful.

“If they grew wings.” The smart one
eyed his cigarette. “No, they’re in there. Aren’t you?” He raised his voice.
“Hiding from us. Thinking you’re going to get away.”

Gia tensed and Rio rubbed his thumb
against his cheek. He’d keep her safe. She had to know that.

He silently swung the handgun
towards the voices, but, wouldn’t you know it, he had a tree trunk in the way.
He kept his finger on the trigger, considering the best way to draw the man
out.

“You messed with the wrong
operation.” The smoker flicked his cigarette into the grass. “But now it’s game
over.”

Fuck.

Small flames flickered to life as
the lit tip did its thing. As long as the wind didn’t shift, smoking man had
just pulled a damned clever move in this game they were playing.

The other guard started cursing,
clearly not with the program. “You wanna kills us all?”

“Relax. Wind’s blowing south. We’ll
light us a little line and we’re golden.”

Tilting Gia’s head so he could see
her eyes, he pressed a finger against his lips. He waited until she nods her
agreement, then he released her. She didn’t move.
Good girl.
He gestured her forward, pointing to the other side of
the gully.

She nodded silent agreement and
they started crawling. He covered her, keeping his body between hers and the
two men. Mentally, he calculated how fast he could stand and get a bead on the
two men. Quick enough if the bastards stood in the open. When he silently rose
to a crouch and assessed, however, the men were still standing behind a screen of
trees. No clear shot.
Fuck
.

The bastard was right about the
wind too. The afternoon wind had picked up just enough to jumpstart the new
fire lickety-split. Already smoke hung over the gully, the snap-crackle-pop of
the fire all too loud.

“Going to be over real fast.” Rio
heard that mocking call loud and clear.

He double-checked—still no
clear shot—and spotted the guard standing near the top of the gully
behind a large tree, flicking a Bick and lighting new fires.
Shit
. The man wasn’t even going to waste
the bullets.

Time to call for reinforcements.
Rio angled off from Gia, getting as much space as he could between the two of
them. Which wasn’t much. The gully was a Br’er Rabbit’s patch of sticks and
dense undergrowth. He quickly popped off three shots. Counted two seconds.
Fired three times again, methodically emptying the clip before reloading.

And… cue the firestorm. The
growers’ guards unloaded on him. Bullets bit the ground and bush around him,
but he’d picked his spot and fate was apparently in a kind mood. Nothing hit
and, soon enough, the growers’ men disappeared back into the woods. Sticking
around until the gory end was apparently not in their job description.
Thank fuck
.

Getting
out of the burn zone was priority number one. Rio pushed through the thick chaparral
until he was back by Gia’s side. If he looked behind him, he could see the
first thin line of flames aiming for his boots.
Not good.

“Can we deploy?” She didn’t stop
crawling, but their progress wasn’t good, the gully too overgrown for speed.

He didn’t know how the shelters’
glue would hold up to a second round of heat but, even if the seams were good,
this wasn’t a deploy situation and they both knew it. Gia was simply checking
her facts.

“Too much fuel. The fire’s going to
sit in the gully and not pass through.” They were out of viable options.“We’ve got to make a run for it.”

“That’s what I figured.” She
coughed, a rough, hacking sound that shot straight to his gut as new smoke
billowed around them. “I got the memo.”

He wrapped an arm around her waist,
keeping low in case the guards doubled back but Jesus… given the smoke, he
didn’t think anyone could aim a shot worth a damn now. Hand wrapped around his
utility knife, he cut and slashed, pushing them forward a foot at a time. By
his side, Gia wielded her own blade with ferocious intensity. Four hundred
yards to the trees.

There was no warning over the noise
of the fire. One minute he was listening to the hungry roar of the fire on his
heels and, the next moment, the heavy whup-whup-whup of a chopper overhead
surrounded them, pressing down the grasses in a sudden blast of air.

“Shit.” Gia’s hands yanked him down,
her arms over their heads. “Incoming.”

The whole world went a welcome red
as the chopper overhead dropped its load of retardant.

Eight hundred gallons of slurry
coated the gully, the mix of water and fertilizer clinging to the chaparral.
Rio focused on not inhaling, waiting for the powder to settle. The slurry
wasn’t supposed to be poisonous but no firefighter he knew wanted to take the
chance of inhaling a lungful. Safe. Not sorry. And the red line between them
and the flames was a welcome sight.

Although not as welcome as the
grimy, gloved hand that appeared out of the pink cloud followed by a grinning
face above a bright yellow shirt.
Hotshot
.
The broad-shouldered guy lugging a chainsaw was more welcome than Santa Claus. “Welcome
to the party.”

Thank.
Fuck.
They’d found the hotshots or the hotshots had found them. Either way
worked for Rio. Better yet was the narrow trail through the chaparral behind
him, a trail rapidly filling with other Nomex-clad bodies.

Beside
him, Gia laughed hoarsely, pink from head to foot. “I don’t recall RSVP-ing for
this.”

An ash-streaked face grinned at her
above a T-shirt that read
Big Bear Rogues
.
“You must be Gia and Rio. We got a call from Jack to keep an eye out for you.”

Each mile in the fire truck took
them further away from the fire and closer to base camp and the Donovan hangar.
Rio itched to get back out there, to join the hotshots on the line, but instead
they were sidelined and parked in the truck’s backseat. Along for the ride and
not much more. Plus, Gia needed the medical attention. Rio wanted her ankle
looked at. The ace bandage and elevation prescribed by the hotshots’ team medic
were great, but he wanted an M.D., someone with formal training and a string of
letters after his name. Or hers. Gender didn’t matter squat when it came to
being good at your job. Gia was living proof of that.

Screw their audience in the truck’s
front seat. He put an arm around her. She promptly wriggled away.

“Gia—”

He wanted to hold her. No, scratch
that. He
needed
to hold her.

“No,” she whispered, pressing her
fingers against his lips.
Shut up
. He
got the message loud and clear, although the music pumping from the front was
loud enough to drown out a dozen conversations. “No one has to know. What
happened out there in the woods? That stays between us. You keep touching me
now and the whole world knows. You might as well rent a billboard.”

“We didn’t go to Vegas.” He ran his
hands down her side, curling his fingers into her hips. Christ. She felt so
right. “What happened out there can’t stay out there.”

“Because of a broken condom?” She
shook her head. “If and when something comes of that, I’ll let you know.”

She was pushing him away again. Gia
was good at keeping people at arm’s length. There might not be an inch of space
between them physically, but her head was miles and miles away.

###

When the fire truck finally pulled
up at the Donovan hangar, it seemed like a million years since she’d been here.
The welcoming committee surging out of the door wasn’t her first choice
however, or even a familiar occurrence. Jack Donovan strode toward the truck,
concern and relief written all over his face. He wasn’t afraid to let his
brother know how he felt and she respected that. The bunch of people following
behind him exhibited similar emotions. Rio’s mother. Jack’s fiancée. Evan’s fiancée. The whole clan had come out to welcome home
their missing member.

Rio popped his door and hopped
down, calling thanks to the driver for the lift. She reached for her own
handle, but he was waiting for her when she opened the door. Reaching up to
guide her down and make sure her foot doesn’t hit the ground. She appreciated
the thought. Maybe. Or she would have, if that hadn’t been a look of pure
possessiveness in his eyes. Another time—a time when his entire family
and her boss hadn’t been watching—that look might have made her shiver.
Because the thought of being
possessed
by Rio Donovan? Was delicious.

The welcoming horde surrounded Rio
and Gia hung back, leaning against the truck. This was Rio’s family. His
welcoming committee, not hers. They were thrilled he was okay and they’d clearly
spent the better part of Rio’s absence hoping and praying for that outcome.
Part of her wanted to be right there next to him, while another part wondered
if her own family would have been so unconditional in their belief that she’d
make it back in one piece. Her family loved her. She’d never doubted that. But
they also worried about her PSVT, insisting that she limit what she did, and
spending the night outrunning a forest fire and a bunch of drug thugs would
have been justification in their eyes for taking it easier.

When Rio finally broke free, he
turned towards her. So, of course, all those faces shifted her way as well,
filled with emotions. Curiosity. Concern. Pride—that was Jack. She’d
always liked him.

Rio looked at Jack. “Gia got busted
up some. I’ll drive her in to the hospital.”

Orders. Just like that.

“I’m fine,” she snapped. “Nothing a
day off my feet won’t fix.”

Jack came forward, yanking her into
a hard, quick hug. “We’ll get you checked out anyhow.”

And there it was again. The royal
we
. Right now, she didn’t give a damn
that the three Donovan brothers were technically her bosses and ran the jump
team. She was tired of being told what to do. She got that the orders came from
a good place. These men had hearts of gold and were concerned she might be
injured. Those were fine sentiments—it was just the delivery mechanism
that had her pissed off.

“
I’ll
get myself checked out,” she countered. “No worries. I’ll be
ready to jump when it’s my turn on the rotation.”

Beside her, Rio cursed. “The duty
roster isn’t the problem here.”

No. She was. And she was tired of
being someone else’s problem.

“Nope.” She was in full agreement
with him there.

“Gia—” He sounded tired.
Exasperated. One hundred percent male.

Jack watched them thoughtfully. Rio’s
mom focused on their exchange. Gia could practically hear the wheels turning in
the other woman’s brain as she added up two and two. And came to the correct
conclusion of
four
.

He towered over her, big and
frustrated. “I’m taking you to the doctor. We’ll get you checked out. Then
we’ll talk.”

Rio was rumpled and tired. A quick
hose off on the fire road had removed the top layer of ash and grime, but his
T-shirt was still candy pink from their earlier slurry shower. Forearms bare,
he exuded a masculine power and confidence that definitely wasn’t fair because
he looked hot while she looked—not. She was tired, her hair standing on
end and she had ash in places ash had no business being. Her ankle hurt like a
bitch and what she really wanted was a shower with hot water and soap. Followed
by a month of Sundays in bed.

“I’m not your problem, Donovan,”
she said, shoving off the truck. She tested her ankle and it held. Bonus points
for her. She started limping towards the hangar. She’d snag her keys from her
locker and then she’d get in her truck and go home. Alone. That plan worked for
her.

A big hand closed gently around her
arm, swinging her gently to a halt. She glares at the offender and wondered
just how many years she’d do for assaulting her boss.

“Gia—” Funny how Jack could
sound so much like his brother.

“I’m off the clock,” she said. “I’m
going home.”

He nodded reluctantly. “We care,
Gia, okay? You’re team and we look out for each other.”

Rio cleared his throat. “She’s more
than team,” he said gruffly.

Her oh-shit meter started ringing
but she was surrounded by Donovans, with nowhere to go. Rio’s mother perked up,
looking interested. Jack just looked pained. He opened his mouth to say
something, but Rio beat him to the punch.

“Gia and I need to talk,” he
announced, radiating sexy determination, “but she’s more than just team.”

Great.

She fought the urge to close her
eyes and thunk her head against the truck. Or Rio’s own hard head. Way to go
keeping them below the radar. In twenty minutes—thirty
tops—everyone in Strong was going to know that the two of them were an
item. Which wasn’t true. Not really. They were a temporary hook-up with
possible long-term consequences.

Nothing more.

No matter how much her heart perked
up at that possessive note in Rio’s voice. So she played it off, laughing.