by Amelia James
But she tempered it with betrayal.
The last line of his epic poem raced through Dash’s brain as he became aware that everyone in the room was staring at him. Flynn. The pale, no-balls secretary who begged to be on Dash’s crew gaped, his gaze darting between him and his new boss. His eyes lit up and he cracked a grin as if he’d discovered a way to exploit the situation.
Cassandra.
Oh shit, Cassie. His wannabe and his used-to-be in the same room. Shouldn’t that have caused a time warp or something? Dash shuddered and tried to recall Mal’s crazy theories about timelines and alternate universes. What are you doing, man? Ditch the fiction and focus on reality. He watched a question mark draw itself on Cassie’s face. He’d deal with that later.
Simone. Not Simon. He should’ve known that. Hell, she’d probably made the typo herself so her reentry into his world would make an even bigger splash. Her long black hair spilled shiny coils down her back, and her deep brown eyes flashed hot enough to melt chrome. She stared at him too, arms crossed, feet planted shoulder-width apart. Ready for battle. Jesus, am I getting hard?
“Where you’ve been?” Her eyes widened and her lip curled. “I have no idea where you’ve been. You’re the one who left, remember?”
“Remember why?” Damn it, don’t do this now!
She flinched. No one else saw it because their gazes were still glued to him, but she faltered—just for a moment—then the fuse ignited. “Because of you! I never touched him! I told you that, but you refused to believe me.”
“I have proof.”
“Fuck your proof!” She stalked toward him.
Dash tried to hold his ground. He hadn’t dared approach her, but Simone’s inescapable magnetism drew him down the stairs. The axe created a boundary between them, and his knuckles popped as he tightened his grip. A standoff formed in the center of the circle, but Dash recalled the strategy he’d used against her countless times. He kept his voice low so their spectators couldn’t hear. “I’d rather fuck you, darlin’. Do you think it’d still be as hot as our last time?”
Throw her an unexpected pass and see if she fumbled it or came down with a completed catch.
“It wasn’t supposed to be our last time.”
Ouch. But her recovery impressed him and his dick swelled. Goddamn it, why do I still love fighting with her?
Another stalemate. She jammed her hands on her hips. He nearly snapped the axe handle in two.
The radio crackled and sent everyone scrambling for cover. “Wilhelm HC to command, over.”
Flynn crawled from under his overturned chair and grabbed the microphone. “Command here, over.”
“We spotted smoke coming from the point of origin. We’re going to investigate, over.”
Simone strode over to Flynn’s desk and snatched the mic from his hand. “Keep us posted, over.” She glared at Dash. “Smoke?”
“Probably a flare up. Pretty common even after containment. My guys can handle it.”
“Your guys?” She paced in front of him like an attorney cross-examining a suspect. Did she pick that up from Mal?
“My crew.”
“You’re the hotshot crew superintendent?”
“You’re goddamn right I am. And you’re stuck with me.”
***
“And I’m your boss.” Simone smiled as she snatched the baton and left him standing in her dust. She’d never needed a team. She could win this thing all by herself. Just like always.
“Yes, ma’am.”
She stumbled short of the finish line and spun. His eyes sparkled as the too easy acceptance rang in her ears. “Good. Take me to the flare up.”
“No.” He hefted the axe to his shoulder and turned toward the stairs. “I need a shower.”
“Ooo…” A low moan escaped Cassie, and Flynn snickered while the forecaster visibly shivered, biting her lip as her cheeks flushed.
What the hell is that? “Superintendent.” Simone refused to chase after him. He’d follow her orders. “I’m the head of this department, and you answer to me. Take me to the burn area.”
Dash stopped in his tracks, his knuckles whitening on the axe handle.
Flynn covered his mouth with his fist and faked a cough. “Standoff.”
He nodded toward the door without looking at Simone. “Let’s go.”
She scrambled up the stairs, following his heavy footsteps. Damn it, how’d I end up chasing him?
Fading rays of sunlight reached over the mountains, turning the smoky clouds a brilliant burnt orange in the darkening blue sky. Dash tossed the axe in the back of his truck, climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine all in the same move. The man still drove a Ford. Not the same beat-up hunk of junk his brothers had passed down to him, but a man’s vehicle, no doubt about that.
Simone jumped in her car as he peeled out of the parking lot, following him through quaint downtown, an average neighborhood, then up winding gravel roads into the mountains. Large looming houses surrounded by towering trees and locked gates populated the area, growing more sparse as they ascended. Without warning, the forest thinned and what remained stood black and smoking. Dash drove across the charred ground, swerving around fallen trees. He stopped next to the crew’s fire truck and got out. Simone joined him, cementing her place as the woman in charge.
He acknowledged her presence without prodding. “Ray, Brett, this is Simone Leveque, the new EMS manager.”
She shook their soot-covered hands and refrained from wiping the grime on her pants. “Good to meet you, gentlemen.”
“Go home, guys. I’ll take over from here.”
I? All through high school, his favorite word had been we.
Dash’s arms tightened around her with every disbelieving word. “We made that touchdown. That’s how we won the game.”
She leaned back and held his face in her hands, forcing him to focus on her. “You made the touchdown. You won the game.”
He shook his head, dislodging her grip. “No, if Randall hadn’t made that block, I never would’ve gotten in the end zone.” He grinned and kissed her.
“Pay attention to me.” She dodged another kiss, but he caught her cheek with his lips.
“I am.”
“No, my words.” But she laughed as he kissed down her neck, shoving her collar down with his chin.
He sighed, but kept his mouth on her skin. “Okay, words.”
“It’s okay to take credit when you do something impressive. You scored the winning touchdown. Yay you!”
“I’m gonna score again.” He slipped his hand under her shirt. “Yay me.”
“Will you stop?” She squirmed in his hold as his seeking fingers approached her breast. “I’m trying to make a point.”
He laughed and released her. “Okay. I’m listening.”
“Yeah, the team helped you win—”
“That was my point.”
She clapped her hand over his mouth. “But what if they’d failed you? Remember last week when Corey missed a tackle and you got blindsided?”
Dash flinched.
“The drive stalled and you walked off the field without scoring.”
“Yeah, but we got a touchdown on the next possession.”
“No, you got a touchdown. Not one of your receivers was open, so you ran it in yourself.”
“Their defense had good coverage.”
“And you gave the team all the credit. I bet you would’ve taken the blame if you’d lost.”
He shrugged. “Probably.”
“Your quick thinking won the game. The team let you down, but you saved their asses.”
“That’s what a team does.”
“Not in my experience.”
Simone had lost count of the times her friends or family had let her down. Except for Dash. He’d only done it once.
Has he changed? Or is he leaving me out?
CHAPTER 3
Dash watched his crew’s vehicle disappear into the falling dark. Electri
city lingered in the air, crackling and popping. The storm that might’ve started the fire rolled out hours ago, but the friction between him and his new boss lit up the place like a Christmas tree on crack.
The sun dropped behind the mountains, and he turned on his truck’s headlights, shining the bright beams on the blackened landscape around him. He spotted a splintered tree, grabbed his axe, and waved for Simone to follow him. “Ray said the fire was most likely started by lightning.” The formerly towering pine had been split in two, and the half that lay on the ground burned up, but the portion still standing showed charring that didn’t match the fire’s path. “I’ll bet this is what it hit.” He rolled his dirty sleeves up to his elbows and raked the axe through the dirt, searching for more evidence.
Simone stood next to him and studied the tree. “The storm woke me up last night. Sounded like it was right on top of me.”
“Yeah, I heard it too. We’ve had a long, hot summer. The mountains are ripe for a blaze.” This is good. Keep it professional. He turned, brushing his bare arm against hers. Lightning surged between them, overloading his brain with memories of skin on skin. Making out in his truck after football games. Driving her home after curfew. Urgent need and fumbling hands. “Do you remember our first time?” What the fuck is that?
Her eyes widened, big, brown, and scrambling to comprehend what he’d said. A smile lifted her cheeks, revealing that yes, she did remember. Fondly. He’d written endless stanzas about her expressive face, but he couldn’t remember any of them at the moment because his damn dick wanted to come out and play.
“Mmm-hmm…hottest thirty seconds of my life.”
Dash sputtered. “Hey, it was thirty-five seconds. Goddamn right, hottest by far, darlin’.”
“The second time, though.” Her eyes sparkled with the mischief he’d once loved. “Forty seconds later.” She picked up a half-burned stick and used it to knock down piles of ashes.
“Oh yeah. Much better.” His cock swelled as he grinned and finished her thought. “For you too.”
“Mm-hm, that’s right. Practice makes perfect. We did a lot of practicing.” She turned over a smoking stack of leaves with the stick and spread them across the ground.
“A lot of making up.”
“What did we fight about?” Her eyebrows drew together as if the memory failed to load.
“Everything.” Dash shrugged, at the moment unable to recall anything specific. All their fights seemed to start for one reason. “You never listened to me.”
Simone shook her head. “You always had to be in charge. I remember when—”
“See, you never listen.”
“Shut up. Remember when I wanted to go to that new water park in Montebello? Just twenty minutes away instead of three hours.”
He wracked his brain. The local news had overhyped the place when it opened. “We went there all the time. What’s the big deal?”
“I wanted to go on opening weekend when they had concerts and free food. But you said ‘no way.’”
“I never said we wouldn’t go. I said let’s wait until after the crowded craziness was over.”
“Is that what you said?” The impish smile that hardened his dick like stone appeared and taunted him. “I wasn’t listening.” She turned her back and left him scowling at her sweet, swaying ass.
Jesus, I need to fuck her. And for no other reason than to pound some sense into the woman. Not that it had ever worked before.
She walked over to a smoking pile of debris and kicked it, exposing a red ember. She stomped on it, crushing the glow under her boot heel. “How can you call the fire contained when there are still coals burning?”
“There’s nothing around it that’ll ignite. It’s the spots that still have fuel surrounding them that need to be watched.” A sputtering log popped and sent sparks sailing over their heads. Sparks fly—literally. Dash chuckled at the imagery.
Simone poked at the debris with her charred stick, singing under her breath. He couldn’t make out the lyrics, but then her voice carried to his ears, chased by a sly smile. “I was raised by two left-handed clown wranglers…”
Dash cringed as their favorite argument came rushing back to him. “Those aren’t the words! They can’t possibly be the right words. The sounds don’t fit, the rhythm is all off.”
She laughed. “No, you haven’t changed at all, Mr. Poet.”
“Why the hell should I change? I’m right. You—” Whoa, where am I going with this?
The light in her eyes dimmed. “I’m wrong?”
Never. Even after all the fighting and the way he’d left her, he still wanted her to be right. “Will you let me finish?” He collected his thoughts, something he’d gotten good at due to her constantly scrambling his brain. You haven’t changed at all. Had he heard a note of disappointment? “You wanted me to change?”
“Not you in particular. Not wanted…just hoped…things might’ve changed.”
“Why?” Things couldn’t have been more different. They’d both moved on, established careers, entered and ended new relationships. So how did we end up together again?
“You don’t get it?”
“What am I supposed to get?” Damn it, she had him running in circles.
She shook her head. “I don’t even know. Maybe it’s been too long.”
“Maybe not. We’re fighting like we always did.”
A spark shot up behind him and reflected in her eyes. “Then maybe there’s hope for us.”
Hope. He’d never used that word in his poems. Not once. But now he let it draw him down a dark path, one he’d never dared to follow. “Do you think we would’ve stayed together in college? Past that? If…?”
“If you would’ve believed me?”
Believed her? Fucking hell! She’s still riding that crazy train? “If you would’ve showed up that night. If you would’ve been faithful!”
“I was!”
Dash answered his own question. “Hell no, we wouldn’t have stayed together, and I’ll tell you why. Because you…” Would’ve cheated eventually? “Because I…” Would never have left her? “We never should’ve gotten together in the first place.”
She jammed her stick in the ground. “That’s bullshit!”
He watched the branch waver, and he nearly faltered himself. “No, it’s true. I was going to leave you at the track meet.”
Her eyes narrowed as if trying to recall which of the many events he meant. “When?”
“Back in high school, sophomore year.” He’d never told her that story. “I’d gotten tired of your ‘ta-das’ and your constant attention grabbing stunts.”
“So why didn’t you leave?”
He’d needed her—back then. He’d thought he stayed for her, to give her the love she couldn’t get at home, but she understood him like no one else ever did. “Because I kissed you instead. And after that, we couldn’t get enough of each other. We were always together: you, me, my brothers.” Why are they in the picture? Especially…“Mal.” An idea he’d never thought of before plagued him, spreading like a virus that mutated, resisting every effort to kill it. “But maybe you just used me to get to him.”
***
“Bastard!” Simone whirled and threw the stick like the javelins she’d won medals for in high school, with no less accuracy and force. The sharp stick snagged Dash’s sleeve as it flew by him and struck a blackened tree.
“You’re losing your touch.”
“I didn’t have to miss.”
He snarled and swung the axe, burying the head deep in the charred ground. “You could’ve killed me.”
The thought of losing him forever ripped at her soul, but it faded quickly as she realized why. “A burnt branch through the heart wouldn’t hurt you as much as your running off hurt me.” Without saying goodbye. Without listening. She’d told him her side, but he believed Mal. And why? Because Mal had the necklace Dash had given her on her sixteenth birthday?
“Are we keeping score? If that’s
the case, then I win by a touchdown and a field goal.” His face flushed red again and he marched at her. “You screwed my brother!”
“I did not!” Oh my God! When is he ever going to believe me?
“I have the necklace.”
“He must’ve stolen it from me.”
“How? While you were taking your clothes off or putting them back on?”
Her ears roared as blood pounded in her heated face. She willed all her strength into her fist, then she threw her hip into it and punched him in the gut.
Dash groaned and doubled over, dropping to the ground. “I never should’ve taught you how to hit.”
“I learned a lot of things from you, sweetheart.” She stood over him, glaring down from a position of strength. Ahh…it feels good to be up here. “How to bring a man to his knees was just one valuable lesson.”
He launched at Simone, wrapping one arm around her legs and knocking her flat on her back. A cloud of ash floated around them as they wrestled. She grabbed at his shirt, ripping buttons loose. He jammed his knee between her thighs, grinding against her throbbing mound. Tingles shot through her limbs and her heart raced. An adrenaline rush, nothing more. But he caught a handful of her hair and held her still, pinned under his hot body. They stared at each other, breathing hard, hearts pounding erratically as if fighting each other.
“I want you.” Dash groaned as if in enormous pain and mashed his face against her heaving breasts. “It doesn’t make a goddamn bit of sense, but I want to fuck the pussy my brother ruined.” He lifted his head and flashed a vicious grin. “Now—right here in the dirt and ashes.”
Smoke filled the air and soot littered the landscape, smearing them both with the remains of something that had once been beautiful. “Poetic justice?”
A harsh laugh escaped him. “Raw punishment.”
“For me or for you?” A rebellious and not-too-brilliant impulse compelled Simone to kick her boots off, one at a time. Her feet had always been her thermostat. Maybe if she cooled off, they might get out of this with their clothes on. Yeah, that’s it.