by Amelia James
WILDFIRE
HURRICANE
A Ryder Boys Novel:
Book 1
By Amelia James
Wildfire Hurricane
Copyright © 2016 by Amelia James.
All rights reserved.
First Print Edition: July 2016
Limitless Publishing, LLC
Kailua, HI 96734
www.limitlesspublishing.com
Formatting: Limitless Publishing
ISBN-13: 978-1-68058-694-7
ISBN-10: 1-68058-694-7
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.
Dedication
For my dad, Ray, my ‘forest fighter’ hero.
Table of Contents
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
EPILOGUE
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Prologue
“Ta-da! I did it. The gold medal is mine!”
Dash Ryder rolled his eyes and applauded along with the crowd of parents and students while Simone Leveque danced on top of the award dais as if she’d won Olympic gold. Principal Stark grabbed a bullhorn and announced the victors. “The bronze medal goes to junior Erin Larsen. The silver to sophomore Keshia Williams.”
“That’s my baby!” Keshia’s mom, Regina, shouted so close to Dash’s ear that he jumped and scooted aside a couple of feet.
“And the winner of the Lincoln High School heptathlon, sophomore Simone Leveque.”
Simone squealed and bounced while the principal attempted to drape the medal around her neck, drawing laughter from the spectators. He gave up and handed it to her. She stepped forward and held the gleaming gold above her head, smiling bigger and brighter than the relentless afternoon sun.
Malcolm Ryder, Dash’s older brother, exaggerated his applause and whistled through his teeth. “That girl is a spotlight whore.”
“Stop hating her.” Dash cuffed him upside the head. “And if you call her a whore again, I’ll hit you so hard you’ll be blinking out your asshole.”
“You used to stand up for me like that.” He almost pouted.
“Don’t be a pussy, Mal.”
“Mad Dash Ryder—hero of Lincoln High. Balls-out, badass protector of the innocent.”
“Shut up.” Dash huffed at the nickname someone had given him. His short fuse had become legendary, but he couldn’t recall how he’d earned the badass label.
Only Simone knew it was all bullshit. Just like he knew her “ta-da!” was just for show.
Simone beamed, still claiming the winner’s podium, and held her medal next to her face while the yearbook photographer snapped pictures. Then she grabbed her cousin, Keshia, and the two girls posed together.
Dash shook his head. “I’ll never forget the first time I heard her yell ‘ta-da’ way back in seventh grade. I stiffen when I hear it now.”
Mal snorted. “Yeah, in your pants.”
“What?” Dash adjusted himself.
“Don’t tell me you’re not screwing her.”
“No! I mean…no, I haven’t screwed her.” But lately he’d given the idea some thought, especially in the shower. “She’s my friend.”
“Friend you get wood for.”
“I’m fifteen. I get wood for everything.” Fortunately, his dad had explained that fact of life a few years ago.
“But especially for dark chocolate.”
“I can’t stand chocolate.” His protest died as he realized what Mal meant.
“You love her.” Mal mocked him with the whiny tone of a six-year-old.
“I like her a hell of a lot more than I like you.”
Mal’s snicker turned into a sneer and he stomped off as their oldest brother, Wyatt, strolled over, shaking his head at their bickering.
Dash turned and made a few rude hand signals. “Why is he such an asshole?”
Wyatt smiled and signed back. “I think he misses you.”
“Misses me?” Dash spotted the cochlear implant processor hiding in Wyatt’s long hair and gave up signing. “He sees me all the time.”
“True, but you guys were close.”
“And now you and I are. I grew up. He didn’t.” Mal’s grade-school taunt stuck in Dash’s brain. “Do you think I love Simone?”
Wyatt laughed and finger spelled ‘duh.’ “But I’m surprised you stuck with her this long. The rest of our friends got tired of her…” He made a sign Dash couldn’t remember.
“Just talk to me.”
Wyatt grimaced and forced the words out. “The rest of our friends got tired of her antics a long time ago.”
He sighed and tried to imagine his life without his best friend. He would’ve missed out on learning to talk to Wyatt, would never have found a voice for the pretty words in his head. And he wouldn’t have endured their classic argument about Rolling Stones lyrics, just one of many fights that defined their friendship. “Maybe I should move on.” Why did I say that out loud?
“No one would blame you.”
“She would.” He shuddered as the potential argument rattled around his brain.
Simone made her way through the crowd toward Dash, taking bows and shaking hands at every opportunity, even some that weren’t presented to her. She threw her arms around Wyatt and hugged him tight, nearly pulling him over. He smiled and patted her on the back.
Mal and the others might’ve called her an attention whore, but Dash preferred to think of her as a magnet, drawing people to her and, in his case, making them stick. Could he pull free from her irresistible force?
“Congratulations, baby. I’m so proud of you.” Regina grabbed Keshia and nearly snapped the poor girl’s neck in a fierce hug.
Simone shared her aunt’s enthusiasm and clapped Keshia on the shoulder. “You were so great! You flew right by me in the one-hundred-yard dash.”
Keshia faced Simone with a stiff smile while Regina crossed her arms and sniffed. “Yeah, but you managed to grab all the glory,” Keshia said. “Again.”
Regina rolled her eyes. “Isn’t that the truth.”
The air around the three women practically froze, crackling and snapping while Dash held his breath. He’d never really seen Simone with her family before. Her uncle, Tramon, spent most of his time at work, so Regina came to as many of their four kids’ events as possible. Simone often participated in the same things, but none of them paid much attention to her, no matter how hard she tried to get it.
“Okay, thanks.” Simone withdrew, shoulders slumped and smile dimmed, dragging her feet in the grass as she walked toward Dash. Regina sighe
d and her entire body sagged as she reached for her niece, but her grasp fell short. She shook her head and resumed praising her daughter.
Wyatt tapped Dash on the shoulder and waved goodbye.
Simone moved beside Dash and rested her cheek against him. Her shiny black hair spilled down his arm, and he wound a stray curl around his fingers.
“You were amazing,” he said, and his heart confirmed the statement when the sparkle returned to her eyes.
She polished the medal with her sweat-soaked shirt. “I wish Mom could see this.”
“She’d be proud of you.” He’d never met her mom, Valerie, but on a snow day in eighth grade, they’d been playing Nintendo games at his house when Simone told him why she lived with her aunt and uncle. Her dad had run off with another woman, but instead of moping, her mom went to beauty school and started her own hair salon. She ran a successful business for several years until she got hit by a drunk driver on the way home. Valerie’s sister, Regina, sold the salon and brought Simone home with her.
“I know.”
He glanced back at Keshia soaking in the shower of her mom’s compliments. “I don’t get why your aunt isn’t.”
Simone shrugged. “She’s got her own kids to deal with. I’m used to it.”
She’s used to it. A spotlight hit Dash’s befuddled brain and revealed the truth of Simone’s life. She got no love at home, so she clung to him, the only person who’d never been fooled by her attention-seeking antics.
They understood each other. He was no badass hero, and she was no attention whore. And they liked each other for real. He wouldn’t dump her. He wanted to keep her close and give her the love she needed, the friend she wanted, and the family she deserved. “I’ll never leave you.”
She raised her head. “What?”
“Yeah, your stunts get old, and we argue about stupid things.”
“We do not.”
“Hey, I’m trying to be profound here.” He closed his eyes and put the words together in his head. You’re my best friend—and more—and that’ll never change. “You’re my best friend, and…I want more. That’ll never…” Damn it, why can’t I speak the nice words?
“That’ll never happen?” She stepped back and mashed her lips together, blinking as her eyes turned shiny.
Damn it. He’d hoped he’d never see that look again. Dash dragged his hand down his heated face. “No. I mean yes. Shit. Com’ere.” He grabbed her arm and pulled her close, sinking his hands into her hair. She stiffened, but her eyes closed as if she knew what was coming. He tilted his head to avoid bumping noses and pressed his lips on hers. Flat, cool, soft.
Simone laughed on his lips. “What was that?”
“Um…our first kiss?” The odd tingle in his chest that he’d been puzzling over for months suddenly shot to his groin. It’s not a heart attack! He hoped she felt something similar. “Sorry, I can do better.”
“I’d like to see you try.” She smiled and settled in his arms, raising her chin for another attempt.
Dash pulled her close and let his heart guide his lips, but instead of kissing, beautiful words flowed free. “I see the rest of my life in your eyes. I taste our future on your lips. Your heart pounds with mine. My life means nothing without you in it.”
“There’s my poet.”
“Shh. Don’t talk. Just kiss.” His mouth swept across hers, and he held her face in his trembling hands while the unmistakable sound of Mal snickering behind him faded away. Let the bastard think what he wanted. As long as Simone loved him, he could endure anything.
CHAPTER 1
Fifteen Years Later…
Dash leaned back in his chair and let the noontime sun hit his face, squinting as a breeze ruffled his companion’s blouse and exposed the fat nipple he’d given a tongue bath a few weeks ago. Their short, passionate romance had burned itself out quickly. Cassandra had wanted more, but he’d refused to hand over his heart so easily. They’d maintained a professional relationship, which sometimes crossed the line into too familiar flirting.
She bent forward and stuck her fork in her salad, apparently unaware the wind blessed him with another revealing peek. Dash snatched a glass of water and drank until the ice sloshed forward and hit him in the face. Policy forbid him from drinking alcohol while on duty, but the peep show from his companion provided a pleasant buzz.
He shifted and adjusted his stiffy under the table. “My dick remembers when I would’ve tasted your pussy for dessert.” He winced and nearly bit through his tongue as the line between professional and highly inappropriate withered and died. How did those words come out of his mouth when the sentence in his head had been much prettier? My body remembers tasting your sticky honey for dessert. Still dirty, but nicer.
Her eyes widened and she swallowed hard. “Keep it down.” She forced the words out in a harsh whisper.
“Oh, I will.” Huh? But the flush on her cheeks spread to her breasts, so obviously his odd suggestion revealed his carnal memories. He could write beautiful words on paper, but he couldn’t make them come out of his mouth. Probably shouldn’t have said anything since he had no intention of being with her again.
Dash took a bite of his burger and scanned the surroundings as he tried to ignore his growing sexual appetite. He’d never heard of Belladonna’s Peak, this small mountain city, until he moved here a little over three years ago. ‘Best kept secret on the west coast,’ the city limits sign proclaimed. The residents liked it that way. Winding streets and neighborhoods that sprawled up into the mountain forests made his job as superintendent of Wilhelm County’s wildfire hotshot crew a challenge, but he’d whipped his men into the bravest and baddest team on the west coast.
The wind flipped Cassie’s red shirt open just as a waiter appeared out of nowhere and refilled their water glasses. “Would either of you like dessert?”
Cassandra’s eyes lit up when he handed her the menu, but Dash intercepted and directed it back to the man. “Just bring us the check.” Dessert. The loaded connotations showed themselves on Cassie’s face, but he fully intended to be somewhere else before she could act.
Her smile froze as the waiter’s gaze lingered on her chest. Then she noticed her gaping blouse and sat up straight. “Now.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The waiter scurried off while Dash snickered.
“How long have you been staring at my breasts?” She glanced down and adjusted her bra.
“Since the moment you played tour guide for me at the TV station six months ago.” Sunshine lit the room with golden hair and glowing skin. She brought my heart to life, but it refused to let her in.
“Obviously.” She sat back and relaxed one shoulder, letting the wind catch her collar and blow it open again. Soft mounds of toasted peach flesh squeezed together into an enticing line, leading his gaze down below the table where he imagined her tight black skirt sliding up her thighs as her leg brushed his. She sneezed and drew his attention back up to her face. “Something in the air.” She swept a lock of blonde hair off her cheek and tucked it behind her ear.
He inhaled but the over-powering scent of grilled meat obliterated anything that might’ve been sneeze-inducing. A sudden breeze pushed his napkin across the table, and he slapped his hand down on it. “Damn windy today.” And unusually hot for late September.
“A low pressure ridge off the coast is pushing wind gusts onshore.” She turned her face into the breeze and frowned. “Coming from the south, which is odd.”
Her forecaster tone made him cringe. Cassandra Storm, the local weather babe, girl…uh…woman, also worked with the county’s Emergency Management Services. She’d never told him if Storm was her real name. When she introduced herself, he’d choked on a laugh and asked if her name ever got in the way of her job. She asked him if his ego ever got stuck in his zipper. His cock had gotten hard on the spot, and he asked her out. She said yes before he finished his rambling sentence. They’d ended up fucking against her front door—before dinner—and they still teased each
other even after they’d broken up.
“A high pressure ridge in my pants is pushing against my zipper.” Stop flirting before she takes you seriously. Dash muffled a groan in his water glass.
Her blue eyes sparkled as she leaned close and brushed her lips on his ear. “That sounds like real trouble.”
“You would know.” What the hell does that even mean? He grunted and for the thousandth time wished he could be as charming and smooth as his brother, Malcolm. Mal’s gift with words made him a chick magnet and a damn good lawyer. Golden boy Wyatt attracted women without using words. One perfect smile from him and they melted at his feet like chocolate left in a hot car. Dash exploited opportunities as they presented themselves, quickly calculating the risks while he forged ahead. Sometimes he got burned, but most of the time he came out on top—of her.
An electronic chime cut into his indecent thoughts, and Cassandra picked up her phone.
“Put that thing down. We’re still having lunch.” He tried to wrestle the device away from her, but she pulled her arm back. Then his phone buzzed.
She frowned at her screen. “You probably got this email too. Read it.”
He rolled his eyes and released his grip on her, fully intending to resume his pursuit as soon as he deleted the blasted email, but the subject line thwarted him:
EMS Appoints New Manager.
“We have a new boss.”
“Simon Lev Q? Leveek?” Cassandra botched the name.
The hair on his arms prickled while he scanned the email for the details.
Wilhelm County Emergency Management Services has hired Simon Leveque as its new operations manager…
The rest of the words blurred as that name brought back memories he’d never managed to forget. “It’s pronounced LeVeck.” But the name he knew had been Simone—female—not Simon.