The Hotshots series joins her many other critically acclaimed and fan-favorite LGBTQ romance series. To find out what she’s working on next and other fun extras, check out her website: www.annabethalbert.com or connect with Annabeth on Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, and Spotify! Also, be sure to sign up for her newsletter for free ficlets, bonus reads, and contests. The fan group, Annabeth’s Angels, on Facebook is also a great place for bonus content and exclusive contests.
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Burn Zone
Danger lurks everywhere for Central Oregon’s fire crews, but the biggest risk of all might be losing their hearts...
Smoke jumper Lincoln Reid is speechless to see Jacob Hartman among his squad’s new recruits. Linc had promised his late best friend he’d stay away from his little brother. And yet here Jacob is...and almost instantly, the same temptation Linc has always felt around him is causing way too many problems.
Jacob gets everyone’s concerns, but he’s waited years for his shot at joining the elite smoke-jumping team, hoping to honor his brother’s memory. He’s ready to tackle any challenge Linc throws his way, and senses the chemistry between them—chemistry Linc insists on ignoring—is still alive and kicking. This time, Jacob’s determined to get what he wants.
Close quarters and high stakes make it difficult for Linc to keep his resolve, never mind do so while also making sure the rookie’s safe. But the closer they get, the more Linc’s plan to leave at the end of the season risks him breaking another promise: the one his heart wants to make to Jacob.
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Burn Zone by Annabeth Albert,
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Burn Zone
by Annabeth Albert
Chapter One
Six years ago, September
“Fucking wind.” Linc had been shit out of luck plenty of times in all his years fighting wildfires, but being quite literally up a tree, dangling like a puppet, never got any easier to stomach.
“Hang tight, buddy. I’ve got you.” Retrieving the cargo that had dropped along with the members of their smoke-jumping crew, Wyatt prepared to climb up after him.
Linc had been treed, parachute tangled in the branches of a massive pine, when the wind had pushed him off course. Even his years of skilled landings under pressure-filled circumstances hadn’t been enough to keep him out of the tree.
It wasn’t his first time being treed and probably wouldn’t be the last time Wyatt had to save his bacon. That was the nature of their work on the front lines of forest fires—they’d saved each other’s lives so many times, he’d lost track of the number, but never lost sight of this feeling, being helpless, waiting for his best friend to come bail him out again.
“Careful,” Linc called when a branch creaked as Wyatt started his ascent. “No stupid risks. May’s counting on me returning you in one piece.”
The fire season was winding down, lots of equipment checks and inventory for next year, and the occasional jump like this one, checking on reports of some spot fires from lightning strikes. Their job was to do what was necessary to prevent the spread of fire—hand digging lines, clearing brush, felling trees.
“She wasn’t happy, having to take me this morning.” Wyatt’s voice was more strained than usual. Linc couldn’t tell whether it was from the climb or the mention of May, who was pregnant with their first kid and had been full of worries all season long, the stress of being married to a smoke jumper getting to her. “Stupid truck’s acting up again. She’s on me to trade it in, get a four-door that can handle a car seat.”
“Not a bad idea. Get me free from this mess and I’ll come take a look at it tomorrow, see if I can get you running again for the short-term.”
“Appreciated.” Wyatt’s tone was still clipped. Linc couldn’t see him now, and he knew better than to twist too much. One wrong move and he could end up plummeting to the ground, which was enough of a drop to break some bones.
Ordinarily, Linc would be more proactive in getting free, but he’d tangled in a way that he couldn’t get to the knife that was an essential part of their gear. Instead, he had to wait for Wyatt to reach him, trust that Wyatt wouldn’t send him crashing through the branches, and that Wyatt would have enough sense to keep his own self safe. May—and Wyatt’s mother, whom Linc loved almost as much as the memory of his own—would never forgive Linc if Wyatt went home with a broken leg or worse.
Working together this season was like shrugging into his favorite work jacket, worn and familiar, both of them more experienced this go-around. While Wyatt had stayed local after graduation, Linc had been gone as much as he’d been home, gaining experience on fire crews all across the West before finally duty called him back, roots as unavoidable as taxes. That Wyatt and this crew had been waiting was more than a reward for everything else he was dealing with.
Finally, though, he was free enough to grab Wyatt’s hand, then use all his upper body strength to pull himself over the branch. Working together, they freed the chute. It was way too valuable and essential to their work to leave in the tree, so he breathed a little easier when it fluttered to the ground. Then they started their descent, tricky because of the weight of both of them. It was an old, sturdy tree, but Linc’s attention remained on red alert for potential dangers until they were both on the forest floor.
Time to get to work, packing up the chute and rejoining the rest of the crew, digging fireline by hand, the wide dirt trails used to keep back any potential fire spread, until his arm and back muscles burned. This mission at least didn’t involve an overnight in the forest, but it did have a long, arduous pack-out where they had to haul themselves and all their gear several miles to an extraction point.
“Careful!” Wyatt thrust an arm out right when Linc would have tripped over a large tree root. The others were some distance behind them, Wyatt setting a bruising pace as per his usual.
“Damn. You saved me. Again.” Linc shook his head. They had been through hell and back, everything from fiery infernos side by side to pristine mountain mornings. Even in the years when Linc had been away for long stretches, they’d still shared every catastrophe and triumph from wading pools to wedding bells for Wyatt and every major life event in between. “What do I owe you?”
It was an old joke between them, but Wyatt’s face darkened, eyes narrowing, voice hard. “Stay away from my little brother.”
Fuck. Linc should have seen this coming, should have known that Wyatt had something more on his mind than May’s worries. He’d probably been stewing all day, waiting to bring this up. That was how Wyatt got, even back when they were kids. He’d brood and brood and then his temper would flare.
“Me? What would I want with him?” Stopping, he turned to face Wyatt. If they were going to do this, he wasn’t going to let Wyatt lecture over his shoulder like Linc was some ornery kid on a scout hike being called to task.
“Don’t play dumb with me. I know you. Wasn’t that me who didn’t say a damn word when you took the number of that bartender New Year’s Eve?”
Linc swallowed hard. He’d lay down his life for Wyatt, but he also wasn’t going to let his best friend push him around either.
“Who I’ve taken to bed has zero to do with your brother. Zilch.” On that point, he could be firm. That Wyatt disapproved went without saying—they might be brothers of the soul, but that didn’t mean they always saw eye to eye. His skin prickled, old wounds he tried his damnedest to ignore.
“Fuck yes, it does. He came out. Told the whole damn family yesterday at Sunday dinner that he’s gay.”
“Bet that took some balls, standing up to all of you.” Somehow Linc managed a st
eady tone even as he wondered what in the hell Jacob had been thinking, coming right out and announcing that to his large, boisterous family which wasn’t exactly known for open-mindedness, especially among the brothers. “Good on him, but again, nothing to do with me.”
“Bullshit.” The meanness was back along with a gravelly laugh. “He’s been following you around two weeks now, doing all your crap jobs, ever since he got back from Vegas looking like a kicked puppy.”
“He’s been helpful.” He kept his voice mild, not about to let on to any enjoyment of Jacob’s presence, the way he lightened Linc’s load far beyond hauling trash. And yeah, Jacob had been down, but some of that defeated air was starting to clear, leaving behind a guy with a quick wit, easy smile and strong back. “Not gonna deny I’ve been able to use him with the shit my old man left behind. It’s a total—”
“Mess that ain’t yours.” Wyatt resumed their trek, not looking to see if Linc was following. Which he did. Like always. He might not like this conversation, but he owed Wyatt too damn much to just stalk off, even if part of him was tempted.
“I’ve been telling you,” Wyatt continued as they crested a hill. “It’s time you moved on. Let it go.”
“Let it go to who?” This was an old argument, but Linc still took the bait, not liking the undercurrent of a message that maybe he should leave town again. “No real other family stepping up to the plate. Victor’s dead. Dad’s dead. Nah, man, it’s on me. And Jacob’s been a help. Stronger than he looks—”
Wyatt cut him off with a warning noise. “Did he tell you anything about whatever shit went down in Vegas? You wouldn’t keep that from me, would you?”
“Nah. He didn’t say shit about his love life.” But actually Linc might have kept quiet if he had. Not maliciously, but Wyatt wasn’t good with a secret, and Linc...well, he had enough of his own. He could hold on to someone else’s for them until they were ready to share.
However, something had gone down in Vegas, something big to send Jacob home, away from all his MMA friends, tail between his legs, looking as heartbroken as Linc had ever seen a guy. And, well, it didn’t take an engineer to piece together the facts.
“How’s your mom taking it?” he asked. Of all the Hartman family members, she was least likely to cast Jacob out. He was her baby, and Linc couldn’t see her hurling hate at him, no matter what she might personally believe. And as she went, so would the rest of the family, Wyatt’s homophobic ass included.
“Ha.” Wyatt snorted. “Mom’s playing this like she’s known for years, but Dad just got real quiet, then went back to the TV in their room. I’m worried about his heart, man.”
“Him? Strong as a fucking ox.” Linc was more worried about Wyatt’s liver these days than his robust old man’s maladies. He knew the Hartman family, knew how much they doted on Jacob, even if he did try all their patience from time to time. The way Linc saw it, they’d survive this shock.
Wyatt might not.
“He ain’t gonna make a hotshot crew, not now.”
“He wants that?” Dread gathered in Linc’s gut that had exactly nothing to do with Jacob’s announcement or Wyatt’s predictable meltdown. Something in him didn’t like the thought of Jacob out here, doing the work that he and Wyatt had done for years, fighting forest fires. Jacob in the line of danger didn’t sit right with him, not at all.
“He said he did. Other night. Who knows though?” Wyatt shrugged. “Says he’s gonna go out for the volunteer crew first. But he’s also yapping about trying college. You never know with that kid. Can’t stick to anything worth a crap.”
“Any ETA on the extraction?” Garrick and Ray, their other team members, came around the bend, huffing as they hauled their share of the gear.
“Nope. Gotta haul ass to get us back for a late dinner.” Wyatt managed to sound upbeat, but later, once Linc was dropping him off at the small house he and May shared at the edge of town, Wyatt had one more warning. “And I meant what I said. Don’t you start messing around with Jacob. We might go way back, but I’ll lay you out flat myself, you and him start carrying on.”
“No worry of that,” he said, pitching his own voice low and calm, no trace of the junk heap of emotions piling up inside him. “Go on now. Don’t make May walk out and see what’s keeping you.”
“Fine. Some uncle you’re gonna be, the way you hover over her. Between you and Mom, kid’ll come out rolled in bubble wrap.”
That Wyatt considered him an uncle for the kid on the way didn’t make him warm with satisfaction, the way it might have earlier in the day. Now, it just added to his guilt and uncertainty, feelings that didn’t evaporate as he headed home.
There was a shadow on the porch as he pulled up, and his heart knew what it was even if his brain didn’t want to admit it quite yet.
“Linc. I was hoping they’d bring you back early.” Jacob’s voice was low and urgent as soon as Linc stepped onto the porch. It was old and sagging, one of the many things that needed complete replacing, not just repair. No light either, another thing he’d need to add. Off to the side of the house was a junk heap, smaller now thanks to Jacob’s help. The whole place had gone to ruin while Linc had bounced around, sometimes here, sometimes out in Idaho or Wyoming, trying to outrun...everything. But apparently he hadn’t run far enough, pulled back by his father’s death to this box of uncomfortable memories.
“What do you think you’re doing?” He wanted it to come out stern, but his voice was weary, energy bled out from the argument with Wyatt and the long shift. And now this. In his tiredness as he’d pulled in, he’d missed seeing the little compact parked on the other side of the junk heap. The car had belonged to one of Jacob’s sisters and was currently held together with little more than duct tape and hope.
“Waiting. For you. Figured you’d show up sometime before midnight.” It was too dark to see much of Jacob’s smile, but Linc could hear it. The pleasure in Jacob’s voice sliced him to the core, spoke to everything he’d been trying so hard not to notice the past few weeks, like the way his pulse sped up just sharing the same oxygen. Trying to steady himself, he sank down on a five-gallon paint barrel, carefully positioning himself away from where Jacob was perched on the rickety railing. “Invite me in?”
Oh, hell no. Linc ignored that potential stick of dynamite and went for the real reason Jacob had probably turned up. “Heard you caused a bit of a ruckus with the family last night.”
“They’ll get over it.” This new all-grown-up, superconfident version of Jacob had plagued Linc ever since he got back to town. Jacob was the kind of guy who didn’t let life get him down long, bouncing back from what had to be a hell of a hurt, and Linc couldn’t help but admire that quality. He still managed to joke around, smile, get under Linc’s skin. Especially that last one.
He wouldn’t say he missed the little kid Jacob had been, because he’d barely known him at all. Back then, he’d been just another little Hartman kid roaming around, getting underfoot to whatever real business he and Wyatt were about. But then he’d turned back up, all lean muscle and short blond hair and a come-get-me grin, no trace of that annoying toddler, and a whole lot more trouble.
“Anything in particular bring this on?” He told himself that curiosity was the only reason he was keeping Jacob talking.
“Friends of mine were sharing memes about coming-out stories.”
Linc tried picturing a universe where he might... Nah. Never happening.
Jacob’s sigh was far worldlier than his almost-twenty years would seem to support. “It’s a social media thing. I know, I know, you’re not big on that, but news flash, there’s a whole world beyond Painter’s Ridge.”
“I’ve been around, remember?” He needed to remind them both that he was a good ten years older than Jacob.
“Chasing fires all over the West hardly counts as around,” Jacob scoffed. “No cities. No smartphones. No friends beyond y
our hotshot crew guys.”
“Hey now.” Linc might be something of a loner, but he had friends. Might all be local or seasonal acquaintances elsewhere, but he wasn’t the cranky hermit Jacob was trying to make him out to be.
“I’m just saying, you don’t even make it up to Portland much.”
“No need. Anyway, these...friends of yours, they pressured you into coming out?”
“No one pressured me.” Jacob sounded outraged that Linc would even think he could be swayed like that. And there was the backbone Linc admired so much—strength, not just in his slim, fighting-honed body, but in his character. “It was in the back of my head though, all day. And then at dinner, Wyatt started in again on why I left Vegas, saying I couldn’t hack it in MMA, even as Tyler’s sidekick. And I’d just had enough. Enough of the pretending. Enough of the lies and not a damn person around here knowing the truth. I was just so fucking tired of his bullshit.”
“I hear you.” And Linc did, heard his pain and loneliness loud and clear. He knew something of that isolation, and while maybe he wouldn’t choose Jacob’s way out, he got the desperation that had driven his outburst. “And that was a brave thing you did, standing up to him. Telling everyone.”
“I’m not looking for a head pat here.”
“And I’m not handing them out.” Linc could meet his irritation head-on.
“Wouldn’t turn down a beer though. Fuck. That was intense.”
“Another year and a half, I’ll buy you one.”
Nineteen, he reminded himself. He’s nine-fucking-teen. Even if Wyatt hadn’t warned him off, he needed to remember that the kid couldn’t even buy a drink yet. And thank the fuck that Linc had thrown out every last drop of alcohol in this place, first week back.
Feel the Fire (Hotshots) Page 28