Flame (Firefighters of Montana Book 5) (13 page)

She’d never regretted going home to an empty apartment, until now. She didn’t even have a cat to pet on her way in. She dropped her keys and phone on the kitchen table and opened the freezer for a meal. She popped the frozen lasagna in the microwave and waited for it to warm through.

“Be safe, Dex,” she whispered.

*

That night, Cady
dreamt of mile high flames, licking at the ceiling of her bedroom, scorching her sheets and singeing her hair. She had leapt out of bed in a breathless panic but the rug was a swirling river, and she couldn’t put her feet down, so scared she would be swept away in its freezing depths.

When she woke, it was four in the morning. She was drenched in sweat and achy and the emotional exhaustion she felt made it seem as if she hadn’t slept at all. But she had to get out of bed. She checked the rug. It was green, as it had always been, not the dangerous river of her dreams. She yawned herself awake and tried to get her brain into first gear. It was Wednesday morning. She had to open Cady’s Cakes and, unless something had happened overnight, Dex was still up the mountain.

The morning flew by, as it always did when she baked. And when the doors opened at eight for the first run of before work coffee customers, she had a smile on her face and a welcoming word for everybody.

At nine, she messaged Jacqui for news. Her friend responded quickly, her short response indicating there wasn’t anything new to tell. The promised rain had skirted the mountain to the south and there had been fresh lightning strikes overnight. Cady knew that meant more work for the no doubt filthy and exhausted smokejumpers. There were strange and confusing feelings in her head. She wanted Dex next to her. She wanted him safe. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and thank him for being a hero and kiss him for being him.

And that all seemed too new, too fresh, too raw to think about. She was growing increasingly worried about making herself so vulnerable to someone else, someone she’d really just gotten to know. Sure, she’d known Dex since high school but they hadn’t been friends then. Barely acquaintances. They’d lived on different sides of town. He’d been a jock. She spent all her time studying and in the home ec room, learning all she could from her teachers about the science and art of baking. She’d had plans for her future.

Word had spread like gossip at high school that senior year, about the death of his mother. And he’d turned up the day after the funeral stoically walking the halls to class, nodding silently when people had murmured their apologies and their commiserations. Her heart had broken for him then. She remembered the feeling of wanting to comfort him, of needing to let him know he wasn’t alone in that big, lonely school filled with teenagers embarrassed at their own reactions to his loss. When she’d seen him that day at the school gate, about to head home, she’d thought he’d looked so lonely, so sad, so
broken
, she had gone to him, almost without thinking, and thrown her arms around him. She’d held on tight and whispered, “I’m so sorry.” But she wasn’t sure if it was loud enough for him to hear it.

Years later, she would find what loss was, the painful, unspoken depths of it, with the deaths of the grandmother and then her mother within months of each other. She and Dex had something in common now that they didn’t back in high school. Perhaps that was what drew them to one another. Cady didn’t know. She couldn’t define it yet. But she wanted him. She missed him. And she was worried as hell about him. All she wanted, prayed for, was his safe return.

But the loss of Captain Russ Edwards in a smokejumping accident a year ago reminded her that prayers weren’t always answered.

And that simply made her terrified. About the risks Dex was taking and about how her own heart was at such risk from another loss.

T
hursday morning, six
o’clock. Cady was in the back of Cady’s Cakes in the gleaming stainless steel kitchen, mixing up a batch of something new—her version of a traditional, buttermilk pound cake but turned into individual cupcakes. She had needed the distraction of concentrating on something other than the mountain and the fire and Dex. Just as she was about to start on some blueberry mini cheesecakes and a batch of brownies, her phone buzzed. She wiped her floury hands on her apron, went to it quickly, and opened the message.

No reception for days. On way home. Missed you. Call later.

They weren’t the most romantic eleven words in history but Cady read the message three times and then burst into relieved tears.

*

The smokejumpers arrived
back at base early that afternoon. Their hard work had paid off. The fires were out and thousands of acres of pristine national forest had been preserved by their actions.

It was the job, and a job Dex was proud to do. He didn’t mind how filthy he was—the rest of the crew was just as smoky and dirty—because it was mission accomplished, with the help of everyone in the team, the pilots, the ground crew, the truck drivers and the smokejumpers. He’d received congratulations from Sam Gaskill, too, which had made him feel proud. He’d done a lot of different jobs in his life, but this one was about teamwork, which he’d never had before. He’d learnt a lot about working with other members of the crew when he’d been in Missoula doing his exchange.

He shook away a terrible memory from that time.

Don’t think about the old couple in the cabin. Think about Cady instead
.
Cady with the sparkling green eyes. Cady with the long chestnut hair and the body you want against yours. Put her in your head. Delete the old stuff.
He sighed, swore to himself. The fire had resurrected those recent memories of death and tragedy.

What he needed to do right now was clean up, throw on his clothes, jump in his truck, and go eat a damn cupcake.

*

When he pushed
through the doors of Cady’s Cakes in Glacier Creek, there was a bustling crowd at the counter and every table in the place was full. He didn’t want people—he wanted him and Cady, alone, and he was determined to drag her upstairs to bed as soon as she closed up. He looked over the heads of the customers, but couldn’t see Cady in the crush.

There was chatter and laughter, hushed conversations, and a young child somewhere squealing in delight. In one corner, there was a group of new moms with their babes in arms, some sleeping, some feeding. Next door to them, there was a table empty of chairs but surrounded by people using wheelchairs, playing a board game with deep concentration. A group of grey-haired older women each had a well-thumbed book in their hands, pointing at the pages and disagreeing passionately with each other. And at the far end, there were some guys he recognised from ranches around the district, tucking into black coffee and donuts with great gusto.

This was really a surprise. Dex hadn’t realised before how much Cady’s Cakes had become a meeting place for people in Glacier Creek. He’d always thought The Drop Zone was the only place locals gathered around Flathead Lake.

He checked his watch. It was four o’clock. He was pretty sure Cady closed up at five. He could kill an hour. Easy. A cup of joe and, yeah, one of Cady’s cakes.

He strode towards the front counter and realised that with each step, the whispers ceased. The passionate arguments about the book of the month silenced. Even the babies seemed to stop crying. And then it started. One person clapping, and then another, and then table by table the applause grew louder.

What the fuck?

And the applause turned into something he’d hear at The Drop Zone when a visiting band had finished their set, but this was louder and Dex looked around. Every person in the place was beaming at him. And then someone slapped him on the back like it was a football game from high school and a grey-haired lady was in front of him, grabbing his arm and reaching up to kiss him on the cheek.

“Thank you for helping save our precious mountains,” she said. “You’re a hero.”

And the applause grew louder and Dex felt strangely uncomfortable. He wasn’t a hero. He was just a man who had done his job, working alongside hundreds of other men and women who were doing their jobs, too.

He moved through the crowd, shaking hands that seemed to emerge out of nowhere, taking the pats on the back, until he reached the counter. And Cady. When he saw there, tears welling in her beautiful green eyes, her arms crossed fiercely, he wanted to jump over the damn thing and hold her. Tell her he was okay. That he was better than okay. Because, for the first time in his life, he’d had someone waiting for him when he got home. That was the only reward he’d ever wanted.

He’d missed her more than he’d missed any damn thing in his whole life.

“Hey,” he shouted above the applause.

Cady nodded, pulling her lips together. Her bottom lip was quivering. Dex turned to the cheering crowd and raised his hands to quieten them.

“Three cheers for the smokejumpers!” someone yelled from the back of the cafe and everyone cheered. He waited until the noise settled, then spoke.

“Thank you, everyone. I’ll take your congratulations and your thanks on behalf of the
whole
crew—everyone you know in Glacier Creek and Kalispell and all around Flathead Lake. We have an incredible team, led by Captain Sam Gaskill and an awesome support team back at base. Let’s have three cheers for everyone at the Glacier Creek service station.”

And everyone in the shop obliged, standing to cheer Dex and his colleagues for what felt like hours when it only went on for half a minute. When everyone had turned their attention once again to their coffees and their discussions and their cakes, he turned back to Cady.

“Dex.” She was next to him, smelling of chocolate and coffee and vanilla. She’d shoved her hands in the front of an apron which had “Cady’s Cakes” printed right across the chest. He looked down at the letters. He saw something else entirely. Something he was desperate for. He wanted everyone in the shop to leave immediately so he could be alone with her.

“Did you do that?” he said, quietly. “Whip the crowd into a frenzy?”

Cady looked across the crowded room. Her customers tried not to let her see, but she knew she was being watched. “It wasn’t me. Although, I agree with everything they all said.”

He heard her deep breath, her weary sigh, the shakiness in her voice, which had dropped to a little whisper. She searched his face, bit her lip. Damn, he wanted to kiss her right now. And make it last forever.

Cady dropped her gaze, leaned in closer. “I’m trying to be discreet and professional in front of my customers but I really want to jump your bones. Right now. In about eight different kinds of ways.”

He swallowed hard. “I’m all yours, sweetheart. Eight ways. Ten ways. As many fucking kinds of ways as you want.”

He saw her chest rise and fall, noticed the flush rise in her cheeks. Then there was a jangle and Cady reached for his hand and pressed something in it. Keys.

“I close up in forty five minutes.”

“I’ll be waiting,” he said.

*