by Cora Seton
His heart exploded with joy, and he wrapped her in his arms, rubbing his cheek against her hair. “Sweetheart, if you asked me to ride you to the moon and back, I’d be happy to take you. You name it. I’m there.”
“Take me home, cowboy. I think doing it in a bed this time would be nice.”
“Are you sure?” He stared down at her, his gaze taking in the myriad bandages covering her arms and legs. “You’re a mess.”
“I’ve never been more certain in my entire life. And you’re pretty beat up yourself.” She touched her fingertip to the black eye he’d earned in his fight with Massey. “I’m sorry you had to get involved in my screwed-up life.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Becket grinned. “A few bumps and bruises, I can live with. So, if you’re sure…I’m sure.”
She laughed and swept an arm toward the exit. “Home, it is.”
As they left the trauma clinic, Becket swept Kinsey off her feet and carried her toward Lily’s waiting truck.
She laughed, wrapped her arms around his neck, and nuzzled his ear. “I think I could fall in love with you.”
He stopped and smiled down into her happy face. “Sweetheart, I’m well on my way there, myself.” Then he kissed her soundly, ignoring the stares of his sister and the people who had to step around him to enter the building.
Love didn’t take a week, a month, or a year to develop. Sometimes love took a minute, an hour, a day, or a look. He’d give her the space she needed to recover. But the fire in his heart would burn eternal for this woman and, if she let him, he would spend a lifetime proving it.
The End
About the Author
ELLE JAMES also writing as MYLA JACKSON is a New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of books including cowboys, intrigues and paranormal adventures that keep her readers on the edges of their seats. With over eighty works in a variety of sub-genres and lengths she has published with Harlequin, Samhain, Elloras’ Cave, Kensington, Cleis Press, and Avon. When she’s not at her computer, she’s traveling, snow-skiing, boating, or riding her ATV, dreaming up new stories. Learn more about Elle James at ellejames.com.
Website | Blog | Facebook | Twitter | GoodReads | Newsletter
Or visit her alter-ego Myla Jackson at mylajackson.com.
Website | Blog | Facebook | Twitter | Newsletter
Other Titles by Elle James
Billionaire Online Dating Series
The Billionaire Husband Test (#1)
The Billionaire Cinderella Test (#2)
Take No Prisoners Series
SEAL’s Honor (#1)
SEAL’s Desire (#2)
SEAL’s Embrace (#3)
SEAL’s Obsession (#4)
SEAL’s Proposal (#5)
SEAL’s Seduction (#6)
SEAL’s Defiance (#7)
Covert Cowboys Inc Series
Triggered (#1)
Taking Aim (#2)
Bodyguard Under Fire (#3)
Cowboy Resurrected (#4)
Navy SEAL Justice (#5)
Navy SEAL Newlywed (#6)
Lords of the Underworld
Witch’s Initiation (#1)
Witch’s Seduction (#2)
The Witch’s Desire (#3)
Possessing the Witch (#4)
Rekindled
Dallas Fire & Rescue
Paige Tyler
‡
Copyright © 2015 by Paige Tyler
All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission from the author.
Cover Design by Kim Killion Designs
Dedication
With special thanks to my extremely patient and understanding husband, without whose help and support I couldn’t have pursued my dream job of becoming a writer. You’re my sounding board, my idea man, my critique partner, and the absolute best research assistant any girl could ask for!
Thank you.
Things are about to get hot in here…
When firefighter Jax Malloy gets called out to battle a blaze at a hotel in the middle of the night, he doesn’t expect to find the sister of his best friend and fellow firefighter in need of rescuing. He didn’t even know she was back in Dallas.
Skye Chandler has always had a crush on Jax and is ready to be more than friends. All they have to do is survive an overprotective brother who just doesn’t get it, and a psychotic ex-boyfriend who’d rather see her dead than with another man.
Chapter One
‡
Jax Malloy braced himself with a hand on the door as Tory Wilcox whipped Station 58’s big fire engine around the last ninety degree turn before heading down Jacobs Street toward the burning hotel just ahead of them. It was twelve o’clock in the morning and he was still a little groggy from the catnap he’d been taking, but one look at the inferno raging through the building woke him right up. The place was a nightmare come to life.
“Stations 34 and 15 are still five minutes out with their engines and ladder trucks. We’ll set our lines on the west side of the building to try to keep this from spreading until they get here,” Lieutenant Nathan Boone said, glancing over his shoulder at Jax from the front passenger seat. “Malloy, you and Wilcox are on rescue until backup arrives.”
“Roger that,” Jax said, already buckling up his turn-out gear and running through a mental checklist of all the equipment he and Tory would need before heading in.
The moment the engine lurched to a stop near the west corner of the hotel, he was out of the vehicle and running for the compartments on the side of the engine. He had his self-contained breathing apparatus on by the time Tory ran around the back side of the truck. Almost as tall as Jax, he had dark blond hair and the lean, wiry build. Jax helped Tory get his pack on, then they quickly took turns checking each other’s turn-out gear and equipment to make sure both were good to go.
Jax just turned to head for the hotel when a uniformed officer ran up, breathing hard and sweating like crazy. His clothes were smudged with gray and black ash.
“There are at least three more people on the upper floors, maybe more,” the cop gasped. “I tried to get to them, but the smoke was too thick. The whole western stairwell is burning above the third floor.”
Jax nodded. “Thanks. We got it from here.” He jerked his chin at the hotel guests who had already gotten out. “Move those people across the street farther down the block. It the roof collapses, it’s gonna be bad.”
The officer nodded and took off. Jax grabbed his fire axe and slipped it into the holder on his belt, then jogged toward the building, Tory beside him. The engines and ladder trucks from 15 and 34 rolled up just as they pulled on their masks. Jax turned on his bottle and entered the building.
“Lieutenant, this is Malloy,” Jax shouted into his radio. “Tory and I are going up the east side stairwell. We have a report of people trapped on the upper floors.”
“Roger that. Watch yourselves up there.”
Running up steps while wearing a self-contained breathing apparatus, helmet, and fire-resistant turn-out suit that weighed an extra sixty pounds wasn’t exactly fun, but as a firefighter, Jax was used to it. He automatically controlled his breathing so he could conserve as much air in his self-contained breathing apparatus as possible, and kept humping up the smoke-filled stairwell. The SCBA gave him a full thirty minutes in ideal conditions, but conditions in a burning building were about as far from ideal as you could get. The fire was already eating through the walls above him, and the ceiling didn’t look like it was far behind. The hotel had ten minutes tops before it was completely devoured by flames.
He and Tory almost tripped over an older man down on his knees on the third-floor landing. His equally older wife was at his side, urging him to get to his feet. The woman’s shoulders sagged with relief at the sight of them.
Jax was all set to help her while To
ry assisted her husband, but the woman waved away his hand.
“There’s a young woman up on the fifth floor. She helped us down, then went back up looking for other people,” she said, her voice hoarse from the smoke. “I can walk down. You go find her.”
Jax glanced at Tory to see him pressing the mask of his air pack against the old man’s face. Splitting up once you went inside a burning building wasn’t smart, but sometimes it had to be done.
“You good?” he asked.
His fellow firefighter nodded. “Go. I’ll get these two down by relay if I have to.”
Giving Tory a nod, Jax sprinted up the stairs. A moment later, he heard Tory’s voice on the radio, announcing he was coming down with two, while Jax was heading up for another.
By the time Jax reached the fifth floor, he knew the chances of finding anyone alive up there were slim. All public places like this were supposed to have sprinklers and water deluge systems, but if the hotel had them, they weren’t working. He could feel the heat from the flames even with all his gear on, and knew the air was getting hot enough to sear lung tissue. He kept going, though. He’d seen miracles too many times to give up on anyone.
Ten steps later, he almost stumbled over a woman lying on the floor. She had a wet bath towel over her shoulders, and another draped over her head. Smart girl, he thought as he crouched down beside her. He was half afraid he was too late, but then the woman coughed. Wrapping one arm around her, Jax gently pulled her up into a sitting position, then took off his mask to place it over her nose and mouth, pushing the button on the regulator to dump extra air into it.
He would have preferred to wait to see if the woman was able to breathe, but he couldn’t risk it. The building could give way any minute. So instead, he got the mask on the girl’s head as well as he could with her long hair, then scooped her into his arms and headed for the stairwell.
The smoke burned his throat like acid as he carried her down the five flights of stairs, but he ignored it. Another crew of firefighters were heading up as he came down, and he gave them a nod as he maneuvered around them, then through what was left of the lobby and out the front door. Damn, fresh air never tasted so good.
“Malloy. Out of the building with one rescue,” he called over his radio as he hurried over to the collection of Dallas Rescue vehicles and regular ambulances set up on the far side of Jacobs street. There were at least a dozen other patients already there, sitting on gurneys or on the ground. Most had oxygen masks on, getting good air into their lungs. Jax saw the older couple he’d left with Tory in the stairwell, but there was no sign of the other firefighter. He’d probably already gone back inside.
Alec McIntyre, one of the paramedics from Jax’s station immediately ran over, a green oxygen tank with a mask kit already attached in his hand. Jax gently placed the woman on the ground, then turned off the valve on the top of his tank and took the big firefighter’s face mask away. Alec quickly replaced it with the smaller medical mask. The woman was aware enough to get her hands around it and press it firmly to her face, breathing deep.
“I’ve got her,” Alec said, already checking the woman for burns and other injuries.
Jax was about to turn around and head back to the burning hotel when the woman flipped her long, brunette hair aside to fit the oxygen mask more closely to her face. Jax stared, stunned.
“Skye, is that you?” he asked.
He was sure he was wrong even as he said the words. No way could the slim, curvy girl sitting on the curb be the little sister of his best friend and fellow firefighter, Dane Chandler. Three years younger than them, Skye had spent most of their childhood running around behind them wanting to be included in everything they did. He hadn’t seen her in years, not since he’d graduated high school and moved away. Skye had only been a freshman in high school then, all skinny arms, long legs, knobby knees and sharp elbows.
The woman blinked up at him, her big, blue eyes going wide as they filled with recognition. Damn, it was her. Little Skye had grown up, and even through all the dirt and grime he couldn’t miss the fact that she’d become one hell of a beautiful woman.
She pulled the oxygen mask away, giving him a glimpse at full lips and the cute, upturned nose he remembered her having. “Jax?”
Skye probably would have said more, but the paramedic knelt down and put the mask on her face again. Over the radio in Jax’s ear, the lieutenant was ordering everyone to the west side of the structure—they were about to lose containment.
All Jax could do was give her a nod before turning to race for the west side of the hotel. The flames along the roof were threatening to jump over to the next building, and two ladder trucks were using their elevated hoses to douse the upper floor. Jax quickly moved over to help two other firefighters working a two-and-a-half inch attack hose as they tried to get water on the second and third floors.
Working a hose together like this took a lot of focus at the best of times. The volume of water coming through it could throw a team to the ground if they weren’t careful. But as he synched his movements with the other two men, he couldn’t help but wonder what the hell Skye was doing staying in a hotel and not with her brother. Hell, Dane hadn’t even mentioned his sister was back in Dallas.
Jax told himself to put thoughts of Skye and her sudden appearance in town on the back burner. They had a fire to fight.
Chapter Two
‡
It took more than an hour before they were able to get the worse of the blaze under control, and by the time Jax had a chance to check on Skye, she’d already been taken to the local hospital along with everyone else who had sucked in too much smoke.
“Shit,” he muttered.
He’d wanted to see how she was doing before they took her to get checked out. Dane had traded shifts with another firefighter so he could ride in a rodeo fundraiser for the Dallas Fire Fighters Association, and he knew his friend would freak out when he discovered his little sister had been in a fire.
“Something wrong?”
Jax turned to see Lieutenant Boone behind him, a concerned expression on his weathered face.
“The woman I pulled off the fifth floor is Dane’s sister,” he said.
The lieutenant’s hazel eyes widened. “Damn. How bad is she hurt?”
Jax shook his head. “She seemed okay, but I don’t know for sure. She was almost unconscious by the time I got to her and she definitely sucked in a lot of smoke.”
Nate frowned. “Dump your gear on the truck, then get over to the hospital and find out how bad it is. Don’t say a word to anyone else until you talk to Dane. Let me know what’s going on as soon as you can.”
Jax nodded and jogged over to the fire engine to drop off his turn-out gear. He just finished stowing everything in one of the equipment lockers on the side of the truck when he spotted Kole Brandt, one of the other firefighters from his station.
“Hey Brandt. I need to run to the hospital to check on one of the people I got out of the building. Can you clean my gear?”
Kole didn’t gripe about the extra gear to clean, or the fact that the rest of the engine crew would be one man short dealing with the clean-up effort, but simply nodded. Every firefighter knew what it was like to worry about someone who’d been hauled out of a burning building.
“Hope whoever you’re checking on is okay,” Kole called as Jax jogged over to where the uniformed officers we still working crowd control.
Jax planned on asking the first cop he ran into for a ride to the station when he recognized the officer who’d pointed him and Tory toward the east stairwell earlier. The nametag on his chest read Perry.
“Think you can give me a lift back to the firehouse?” he asked the cop. “I need to get to the hospital to check on someone I pulled from the building.”
“Sure, no problem.”
Thanks to the flashing lights, Perry got him back to Station 58 in less than ten minutes. Jax wished he could grab a quick shower to get the smell of smoke off, but he
didn’t want to take the time. So instead, he jumped in his pickup, then sped out of the parking lot and headed for the hospital.
He called Dane on the way, but it went to voicemail. No shock there. It was the frigging middle of the AM. Any rational human would be sleeping like a log. Not wanting to freak Dane out any more than he had to, he kept the message short and optimistic.
“Hey Dane. It’s Jax,” he said. “We just rolled on a hotel fire on Jacobs. Your sister was there and sucked down some smoke, but she’s going to be okay. I’m heading over to see her now at Parkland Emergency. Call me as soon as you get this.”
Luckily, the roads were deserted, so it didn’t take long for Jax to get to the hospital. He found a parking space, then hauled ass for the entrance. As he ran inside, he prayed he was right about Skye being okay. Smoke inhalation was dangerous as hell, and while Skye had seemed fine when he’d carried her out of the fire, that didn’t mean she was fine now.
Jax was all prepared to sweet-talk his way past the nurse on duty to get in to see Skye, but fortunately Emily Cartwright, the gray-haired woman behind the desk, knew him. She was used to seeing him bringing in patients, and seemed surprised he was alone.
“A woman the paramedics brought in a little while ago from that hotel fire on Jacobs is the sister of one of the firefighters I work with. I just wanted to check on her,” he explained. “Her name is Skye Chandler.”
Emily nodded. “I remember them bringing her in. Hang on a minute and I’ll take a look at her chart.”