Into the Flames (Jupiter Point Book 3)

by Jennifer Bernard

  "Well, if it makes you feel better, Finn's hating it pretty hard right about now too."

  "It does, a bit," Sean admitted with a grin. "I'm curious, though. What happened to you during the burnover? What'd you think about?"

  Rollo crossed to the passenger-side door and opened it. Sean was still watching him steadily over the roof of the Super Duty. Once you'd cut line with a guy over weeks and months of back-breaking labor, you trusted him. Once you'd survived certain death with a guy, you trusted him. Rollo didn't trust many people, but Sean was definitely one of them.

  "I thought we were toast. I was scared shitless. I knew everything was going to end."

  "Everything? What do you mean?"

  "Life as I knew it. The hotshots. My firefighting career." He got into the passenger seat, his jaw setting. He'd been putting off this conversation too long.

  Sean slid into the driver's seat and stared at him. "What the hell are you talking about?"

  "I have to quit. Promised my family. Last season was pushing it, but now I really have to. Family obligations, can't change it."

  "You're serious, man?"

  "I am. But we can get into this later." A lump had lodged in his chest. Leaving the hotshots. He'd said the words out loud, and damn, but they hurt. "I'm staying in Jupiter Point. I'll help you with this place if you decide to keep it."

  "Thanks. I won't do anything until after the wedding. Maybe I'll hit you up in February."

  Snowball chose that moment to clamber over him into the driver's seat. She wormed her way to the back as Josh stumped to their side.

  "Is it unethical to feed your dog tranquilizers?" he grumbled.

  "Old man," Rollo teased. "Was it just this summer you were young, single and footloose? Now look at you. Married, baby on the way, too decrepit to play with your dog."

  Josh punched him in the shoulder as he heaved himself into the backseat, where he rubbed the muscles of his leg. "You're just jealous. Can't fool me."

  Snowball curled up next to him and rested her chin on his knee. And Rollo had to admit—he really was jealous. No lie.

  9

  "This is perfect," Brianna insisted as she and Rollo cruised the aisles of the Big Apple Supermarket. "There's no better way to get to know someone than during a campout. Ghost stories, singalongs, capture the flag, bug juice…" She sighed happily. "Some of my best memories are from camp."

  "This isn't third grade," Rollo grumbled. "And it's November. Are you sure Merry's into camping? She doesn't seem like the type." He tossed a jumbo box of Triscuits into the shopping cart.

  "What's that supposed to mean?"

  "She's so plugged in. Computer, phone. Always thinking and working."

  "That's why this is perfect. She won't have all those distractions. She can focus on big, strong, beautiful Rollo Wareham." Brianna's bright grin warmed his heart—it would probably warm a dead man's heart.

  "You're kind of good for my ego, you know that?"

  Brianna tugged the front of the shopping cart toward the dairy section. "Merry loves brie. Me, I'm more of a cheese platter girl, but she goes for the expensive stuff. Let's get tons of it."

  "Can't we stick with hotdogs and marshmallows?

  With her arms full of wheels of cheese, Brianna fixed him with a stern look. "You have to accept that this is not one of your roughing-it camping trips. We're not fighting wildfires here. You're trying to impress a very hard-to-impress woman. Merry has sophisticated tastes. She likes brie and chocolate-covered strawberries and dipping biscotti in her cappuccino and you need to just go with that."

  "So we're talking 'glamping,' not camping."

  "Exactly. You need air mattresses and those cool camp chairs with cup holders." She dumped the cheese into the shopping cart. "Can you fit a cooler in your backpack?"

  "Wait. Back up." A sense of panic flared inside him. "You said 'you.'"

  "Yes. You. Something wrong with that?"

  "You're coming with us, right?"

  With a look of exasperation, Brianna reached for a container of French vanilla creamer on a top shelf. He watched the way her top rode up along her torso, revealing the sweet indentation of her waist. She wore low-rider jeans that snugly encased her ass, along with a collared plaid shirt that didn't quite reach her waistband. The exposed skin looked like silky cream. He had a random and totally inappropriate urge to lick it.

  Goddamn. This was Brianna.

  He dragged his gaze away and focused on the brie instead. Brianna seemed oblivious to his temporary brain freeze.

  "Think, Rollo. This is your chance to be alone with Merry and win her over. I’m planning a gardening emergency so I can back out. "

  "I thought it was a group kind of thing. That's a lot more relaxed."

  Truth was, he didn't like the thought of being alone with Merry during the long hike out to the Breton tower and an entire night of camping. It sounded like a lot of pressure. He'd be wilderness guide and fake historical expert and brie provider all in one.

  If Brianna came along, it would actually be fun.

  Well, there was one way to get her to join them. "Finn's coming." Or he would be, if he wanted to keep occupying the guesthouse.

  Brianna froze in mid-reach. Balanced precariously on the base of the cooler, she gazed back at him. "Really? He's going for sure?"

  "Oh for Pete's sake." Rollo stepped around the shopping cart and grabbed Brianna by the waist. He lifted her up—good Lord, she was easy to hold, like a wedding-cake topper—so she could reach the creamer. As soon as she had it in her grasp, he swung her around and planted her back on the ground. She grabbed the cart, looking a little dizzy.

  "Warn a girl before you spin her around, would you?" Her face was flushed, and she wouldn't quite meet his eyes.

  Rollo's palms were still tingling from the feel of her compact body. "Sorry. I was afraid you were going to bring down the whole cooler. So what do you say, Bri? If Finn's coming, you don't want to miss out. This is your big chance to really connect with him."

  She scrunched her face up. "I guess so. But Rollo, think of all the opportunities I'll have to get flustered and make a fool of myself."

  "That won't happen. I'll be right there. You're comfortable with me, right?"

  "Yes, of course. That's different. I don't have an awkward crush on you." She gave him a little swat on the arm. "But I guess you're right. If Finn's going, it's a golden opportunity. Fine. We'll make it a group trip. But you owe me."

  "How do you figure?"

  "I think glamping is ridiculous," she admitted. "And brie smells like when I wear the same socks for two weeks, which sometimes happens when I'm super-busy in the spring."

  Rollo hid his laugh in his beard. He imagined Brianna sharing her opinion of brie with his mother. God, he'd pay good money to witness that. "Amen. The only thing worse than brie is gorgonzola."

  Brianna made a face. "Merry likes that on celery."

  "How about we stock up on chips and onion dip, just in case?"

  "Yes!" They high-fived each other and went to raid the junk food aisles. Halfway there, Brianna put a hand on his arm, stood on tiptoe and whispered in his ear, "Please don't tell Finn about the socks, okay?"

  Could she be any cuter?

  Two days later, about a mile into the Sierra Nevada wilderness, Brianna had to face a hard truth. So far, getting ready for this trip had been a lot more fun than the actual trip. She and Rollo had done all the prep work together. They'd found the tower, planned the itinerary, bought the provisions.

  Beer and snacks had been involved too. And of course they’d had to break off for a movie now and then.

  Rollo was so much fun to hang around with. The minute she got near him and inhaled his pine-needle-and-wool-sweater scent, she got a little happier. She figured that meant they were really, really good friends.

  Right now, he led the way down the trail, shouldering an enormous backpack as it if were a beach ball. He'd crammed as much as possible into his pack, with Finn carrying
the rest.

  Finn. God, he looked so handsome, with a wool beanie covering his dark, wavy hair and a tan sweater over loose corduroy pants. Every time she looked at him, she felt a stab of longing. He was just so perfect, as if he'd stepped out of an ad for Abercrombie and Fitch. Not even his burn scars took away from his good looks, at least in her opinion.

  But nothing was working out the way it was supposed to. Finn and Merry had hit it off right away, since they were both writers. They'd been talking nonstop since the hike started—about computers and their favorite writing software and other stuff she had nothing to say about. And Rollo was way up ahead, his long legs eating up the trail. Brianna was left to bring up the rear. All she could do was gaze with hopeless longing at the sexy way Finn moved.

  Both of the hotshots moved well, as a matter of fact. Rollo's bear-like build looked different out here in the woods—he walked with agility and purpose. He wore a red stocking cap that served as a beacon for the rest of them, along with a brown and green plaid woodman's jacket. His wide shoulders held the giant backpack easily; he didn't even flinch when he first slid it over his shoulders.

  How could Merry not be impressed by Rollo's sheer strength and size?

  Maybe because she was interested in other things, like Apple versus PC and who had won the most recent Pulitzer Prize for journalism.

  Brianna kicked gloomily at a mossy log, which came apart under the blow. A mouse scurried out of it, which startled her so much she stumbled forward. Her Thermos of coffee flew out of her hand. As she watched in stunned disbelief, it winged through the air and thumped Finn on his right butt cheek.

  He lurched forward, then spun around to face her. "Jesus. What was that?"

  "Sorry." Brianna had landed on her hands and knees. She crawled forward to grab the Thermos, then pushed herself back into a standing position. "That was just me, throwing a Thermos around. Not intentionally, I mean. I tripped over something and I lost my grip on it. It went…" She made a sound like a bomb falling as she traced the arc of the Thermos through the air. "I mean, sorry."

  Merry was folding her lips together to hold back her laugh. "I know what's going on here. Writers can be boring-ass conversationalists, right, Finn? I think we bored her so much she fell asleep on her feet."

  "Our bad. Sorry about that, Bri. We can talk about something else." Finn rubbed the muscle of his butt with a grimace.

  "I could…uh…want me to rub it?" Brianna offered. "I have really strong hands. Strong as a man's, really. I bet I can do that just as good as you, and it's easier for me to reach."

  A smothered snort drew her attention to Rollo, who had walked back along the trail to see what was going on. He was making some kind of gesture at her, trying to communicate something. She had no idea what.

  "That's all right," Finn said. "Some things a guy has to do for himself. I think this qualifies."

  "Right. Of course it does." She nodded quickly, bopping her head like some kind of marionette. What was wrong with her? "It's okay if you change your mind. My offer will still be open. Later tonight, even, when we're done walking, it might start to stiffen up and…"

  What was she saying? Her face was so hot by now, she was surprised it didn't burst into flames.

  Merry came to her side and took her by the elbow. "Stop talking right now," she whispered in Brianna's ear.

  Brianna snapped her mouth shut while Merry announced to everyone that she had to take a bathroom break and she needed Brianna to stand guard.

  "What is wrong with you, girl?" Merry hissed as soon as they'd gone behind an ancient birch, out of earshot.

  Brianna buried her face in her hands. "It's Finn. He makes me so nervous. He's so gorgeous. Every time he looks at me, I just…get stupid."

  She felt an arm come around her shoulders. "Aw, honey. Are you telling me you have your eye on Finn, not the big guy?"

  "The big guy? You mean Rollo?" At the very least, Merry ought to use his name.

  "Yeah, Rollo. The big, quiet one."

  "Rollo's not quiet."

  "Really? Finn's already talked to me more than Rollo did the whole time I was embedded with the crew. Nothing against him, maybe we just don't have anything in common. Doesn't matter right now. The point is, I thought the two of you were kind of circling each other. But you're into Finn instead? That changes everything."

  Brianna stared at her in dismay. Poor Rollo. Clearly Merry wasn't considering him at all. She was so sharp and verbal, maybe she couldn't see the appeal of someone like Rollo. Rollo was more about actions than words. When he talked, he said things that mattered. Unlike someone like Finn, who could talk about anything and be charming in the process.

  Hmm, was that a critical thought about Finn?

  No. She'd called him charming. Nothing wrong with charming.

  "Merry, please don't underestimate Rollo. He's a really good guy. Haven't you ever heard the phrase 'still waters run deep'? That's Rollo. There's a lot more to him than you realize. Also, you have to admit he's very attractive. It's just in a different way. He's not smooth like Finn. He's more…real."

  Merry shook her head. She looked crisp and fresh in a bright yellow down jacket and fleece headband. "One minute you're pining over Finn, the next you're raving about Rollo. Make up your mind, Bri. Unless you want both. If they're going to fight over you, my money's on the big guy. Or if you want both, nothing wrong with a hotshot sandwich."

  Brianna clapped her hand over her mouth to hide her shriek of laughter. "You. Are so. Bad."

  Merry shrugged. "You know me. I'm all talk. You can have whichever one you want, girl. Just let me know so I can be wingman for you. Okay now, I need you to turn around so I can go pee."

  Brianna obliged. She scanned the woods, absently identifying each plant in the understory while her heart ached for Rollo. Merry was never going to see him for the amazing person he truly was. She had a wall around her heart made of laptops and deadlines and other things Brianna knew nothing about. She'd have to find a way to break it to Rollo that this trip was pointless.

  10

  It was a ten-mile hike to the Breton lookout, and much of that hike was uphill. Most lookout towers had fire roads for maintenance purposes. This one did too, but it took such a long and winding route that they'd decided to take a more direct scenic route through the forest instead.

  The trail was a series of long switchbacks up the gentle slope of a hogback ridge. They walked through mixed woodlands of pine, aspen and birch, a terrain very familiar to Rollo from all his firefighting experience. The views that kept unfolding the higher they got were stunning. The deciduous trees looked almost garishly autumnal, a carpet of russet and persimmon and gold unfurling down the slopes.

  His heart hurt for Brianna. What could he do to help build her resistance to Finn? As long as she kept babbling like a fool and throwing Thermoses at his ass, she'd never give Finn a chance to fall for her. He'd be too busy wondering what was wrong with her.

  Merry jogged to catch up with him. "Listen, you don't have to talk to me. I just want to give Bri and Finn a moment alone. We got talking about the trees and plants and that's her area of expertise. She needs a moment to shine. If he sees her at her best, he'll fall for her in a flash."

  Rollo grinned at her. "That's what I keep telling her too. She needs to relax and stop seeing him as some kind of god on Earth."

  "True that." She craned her neck to listen in on the other two. "Bri's talkin' birch beetles. Perfect. Hey, do you mind if I ask you some questions about the lookout tower?"

  Rollo hid a sigh. That was Merry, always on the job. "Sure, what do you want to know?"

  "People just sit there all day and look for fires?"

  "That's about it. They take readings, mark down temperature and barometric pressure and other conditions. Most of the towers are staffed by volunteers. Some work for the Forest Service. Their affectionate nickname is 'freaks on the peaks.'"

  "I can see why. You're telling me people volunteer to sit all alone in
a tower all day?" She rolled her dark eyes, the deep amber skin of her forehead creasing. "I gotta talk to one of these crazies. They must lose their minds from sheer boredom."

  "Actually, they say the opposite. I heard one spotter talk about all the things she planned to do—like write, knit, draw, that sort of thing. She ended up spending all her time watching the weather. It changes all the time, every minute. A new cloud formation drifts across the sky, the wind changes, the angle of the sun changes. If you just sit back and watch, there's a lot more to see than it seems at first."

  He glanced at Merry and saw that she was staring at him with an arrested expression. "Brianna was right about you."

  "How do you mean?"

  "She said there's a lot more to you than shows on the surface. Or something like that. She's a big fan of yours, you know that?"

  "We're good friends," he said cautiously. He didn't want to give Merry the impression that anything more was going on between him and Brianna.

  "Just a random question, but do you seriously think a man and a woman, both of them single and attractive, can be 'good friends'? You're telling me there isn't a single spark in there somewhere?" A moth flew past them and she swatted it away from her face. "I don't have the answers here; I'm just throwing it out there."

  "Well." He thought it over carefully. "Yes, I think men and women can be friends. Sometimes that's the only thing you can be because of other circumstances."

  Her gaze sharpened. "Now you got me intrigued. What sort of circumstances?"

  Like…that you had to marry someone your family approved? But he couldn't say that. "All sorts of circumstances." He glanced back at Brianna and Finn. "Uh-oh. She's still talking about birch beetles."

  "Oh hell no. What's he doing?"

  "Listening. Nodding."

  "Are his eyes glazed?"

  "As a donut."

  She sighed. "The plant nerd strikes again. Be right back."

  About an hour before sunset, they spotted the lookout tower peeking from the canopy of the forest like a concrete periscope. Its big glass panes reflected the setting sun in a blaze of orange.