Ignite (Missoula Smokejumpers Book 1)

by Piper Stone

  “You coming? I don’t have much food at the house. Just the basics. Not sure what you liked.”

  “I think I’ll wait. Thank you very much.”

  Shrugging, Ralph grabbed his keys. “Suit yourself.”

  When he closed the door, she opened her mouth. He really took the keys? He couldn’t leave the engine running? Didn’t cowboys trust any longer? She tossed her bag to the floor and folded her arms. Thank goodness it wasn’t cold outside, well not freezing anyway. This was late September after all.

  She looked out the windshield. Evening was settling in and the rain had all but stopped. Still, the sky swirled in an ominous fashion, indicating perhaps more to come. Sniffing, she scanned the perimeter of the parking lot. There was nothing but a sea of pickup trucks in various colors, makes and models. There wasn’t a sports car to be seen. Chuckling, she wondered if she’d last a week. Still, the mountains were mesmerizing.

  As she sat waiting, she looked at her watch once, twice and by the third time she was pissed off as well as starving. She hadn’t eaten in almost twelve hours. She wondered how long Ralph could take consuming a side of beef. The thought made her shudder. Bison. Yuck. Fifteen minutes had gone by, then twenty-five. He was taking his sweet time.

  Frustrated, she stamped her foot and struggled to get to the rearview mirror. Her hair wasn’t as bad as she thought, just damp around the edges. What if she went in and ordered a coffee and a burger? Coffee? No, she wanted a tall glass of wine. Did they serve wine here? After studying the people going in, she noticed there were a few women attached to the rugged guys. They all seemed to be in jeans and there was no beauty queen amongst one of them. She’d fit right in, rode hard and put away wet.

  After another few minutes, she made up her mind. She had to eat something or she’d pass out. She grabbed her purse and eased out of the truck, closing the door with a hard thud. She glared at the neon infused sign. “Ziggy’s. That’s a fabulous name.” Rolling her eyes, she took tentative steps forward. Why had she chosen to wear heels of any type? The parking lot was paved but hadn’t seen a good seal coating job in years, if not decades.

  “Freaking place,” she muttered and walked toward the entrance. Bad country music assaulted her senses. The singer sounded like he had rocks in his mouth. From behind her she heard the sound of an engine, one that couldn’t come from a souped-up he-man vehicle. There was no way the intense revving would come from a Ram or Ford POS. She stepped away from the truck just as the car came careening into the parking lot, skidding past her. Gravel shot up, landing all over her jeans and shirt. A wet slap of something cold landed on her cheek. She jumped back and shrieked. “Asshole!”

  The person driving had no doubt seen the mishap. She could tell by the head jerk in the vehicle. They didn’t stop to see if she was all right. No, that would be the decent thing to do. She wiped her shirt and jeans and watched to see where he parked. The car skidded to a stop in a parking spot merely fifteen feet away.

  Now she was furious. She was exhausted, out of sorts and ready for several glasses of wine, perhaps an entire bottle. This wasn’t the best welcome into a town that was supposed to be special, at least according to Maggie. When the door to the car opened, she took off tromping in its direction. She stopped short when he existed the vehicle.

  Long legs were followed by a tall man wearing what else, a cowboy hat, tight jeans and a pair of cowboy boots, the tips shining like silver. She stopped for a second when the guy slammed the door and used a key fob, the back lights indicating he’d succeeded. He briefly looked in her direction, making eye contact before heading for the door. Not a care in the world.

  “Whew.” Yes, he was gorgeous with shaggy blond hair and a face that she could melt into. Yes, he had a perfect, muscular body, but she wasn’t going to allow good looks to get in the way. No, she wasn’t going to fall for any man’s good looks and charm. She was finished being arm candy. “Just who do you think you are?” She strutted toward him. He didn’t register her comment. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Yo, bub. Did you realize what you just did?”

  “Excuse me? Bub?” He stopped and peered in her direction.

  “You heard me. Who do you think you are coming into the parking lot that way? You could have killed me!” She moved closer.

  His eyes twinkled as he looked down the length of her, concentrating on her shoes. “I don’t think my driving is gonna kill ya, girl. I think your shoes just might.”

  The tone of his voice and the way he was challenging her was…was… She stood her ground, slapping her hand on her hip. “I’ll have you know I can walk any path in these heels, buster. That’s not what’s going to kill this chick, but an ignorant peckerhead just might.”

  “Peckerhead?” he retorted. He continued scrutinizing before walking closer. “I’ve been called a lot of things in my time, but this is a new one.”

  She realized she’d drawn a crowd. “You heard me. I guess you think your hot car is all that and a bag of chips.”

  He narrowed his eyes before bursting into laughter. “You ain’t from around here, are ya?”

  “The little filly causing you trouble, Stoker?” A burly man approached.

  What kind of a name was Stoker? She snapped her head in the other man’s direction. Almost as good looking, his dark eyes, long dark hair and close-cropped beard along with the blackest pair of jeans she’d ever laid eyes on gave him a rogue appearance.

  “Nah, I can handle this one. Think she’s lost. Looking for the mall or something. She doesn’t know yet we’re fifty miles away.” Stoker grinned and took off his hat. “Course if you’re a good girl I might take you.”

  “A good girl? Really?” Jessica snapped.

  Stoker shook his head then reached out, swiping his index finger across her cheek.

  Bristling, she snarled until she realized the glob on his finger was mud. Of course, she looked like a mess in front of a complete stranger, one with dancing blue eyes and a chiseled chin and a body to kill and… No. No. No! She bit her lip and kept her expression hard.

  “Yep. Cause bad girls get taken across my knee for a hard spanking and by the sound of it, that’s exactly what you need. What do you think, Garcia?”

  “I think you’re right,” Garcia quipped. “And right here in front of everyone too.”

  “No, I think better inside with a beer in my hand. I know. We can parade her around first.”

  Jessica was fit to be tied. Heat rose to her face and for the first time in ages, she had no idea what to say. “You can’t touch me and if you try, I’ll knock you both to the ground.”

  “Whoa! This girl has fire!” Garcia howled.

  She gave them both the evil eye. Why was she shaking? She didn’t fear the men. No, she was attracted, no. No! Gulping, she knew her hardened nipples were very noticeable.

  “Girl,” Stoker said as he closed the distance, his expression one of dominance. His eyes shifted to her chest for a few seconds before grinning. “I can do anything I want to do. This is my hometown. I daresay not yours.”

  “That doesn’t give you the right to touch me in any way,” she stated defiantly. The scent of his cologne was heavenly. She was proud that she didn’t budge, even though her feet were killing her. She dare not cross her arms across her chest, but, dear God, she wanted to.

  “Touch you? You bet you need a hard spanking, young lady,” Stoker chortled. “However, neither me or my car were within close proximity of you or your pointed shoes.” He rubbed his face and shot a look up at the mountains.

  When he mumbled under his breath, she took a step forward. “What did you say exactly?”

  “Nothing that would ever matter,” he stated with an amused tone.

  She knew he’d whispered, ‘I’d love to get near you’ and for a few seconds, she contemplated the thought.

  “I think she needs a taste of the locals. Don’t you?” Garcia quipped.

  She shot her head in the friend’s direction. “This isn’t about you,
buster.”

  Both men laughed, then Stoker tipped his hat. “You here on a date, sunshine?”

  “I have business, thank you very much.” Sure, that sounded reasonable. She was shivering, her teeth chattering and she was hot and wet. Perfect.

  “Ain’t a fine cowboy in this town able to handle her,” Stoker added.

  “I suppose except for you,” she countered.

  “Whoa. Ballsy gal. Come inside and get warm.” Garcia offered. “We don’t bite. Well, not unless we have a reason. Woof!”

  “I’m just dandy. You boys obviously have somewhere to be so go on before I call the law on you.” Jessica was so far out of her element she could hear the doubt in her words. They weren’t buying her slice of bullshit either.

  “Still think you should spank her. Every woman needs a hard whipping now and then. Keeps them in their place.” Garcia winked.

  “Good idea,” Stoker chimed in.

  Jessica stood her ground. The space around them was filled with playful tension. Seeing the mischievous look in their eyes, she believed he was going to grab her by the arm, yank her inside, slap her down over his lap and spank her like a little girl. She wiggled and her wet thong jammed into the crack of her ass. Was he able to smell her desire? Could he tell she was hot and ready?

  As if reading her mind, Stoker took a deep whiff and closed his eyes.

  “You curtail the woman. A tall cold one is calling my name.” Garcia gave her a nod and turned, heading for the entrance to the bar.

  She growled. “Neanderthal.”

  “You know what? I think that’ll happen one day, pretty lady. As a matter of fact, I’ll issue a cowboy bet you’ll come begging.”

  “A spanking? Over my dead ass body.” She glared at him yet she knew her legs were shaking. A full minute ticked by. The others in the parking lot had lost interest, heading for the bar. She kept her eyes pointed on him, trying her best to remain furious. Whew, the man made her pussy wet, her pulse race.

  “You be careful out here. There are bears and wild coyote living in the streets, not just the darkened woods or places where shadows grow. I have on good authority that they love to snack on beautiful women.” His eyes twinkling, Stoker adjusted his hat and took two steps backward. “Woof, baby.”

  Bears? Coyotes? Huffing, she nonchalantly looked over her shoulder. The smartass knew she would. She had the good sense to wait until they were both inside before moaning like a little girl. Cowboys. What a holier than thou concept. She heard chuckling from patrons as they walked by and managed to resist giving every one of them the finger. She stood tall and acted as if this happened on an everyday basis. Meanwhile, visions of lying naked across his lap filtered into the back of her mind. “Never. Ever.” Inside, her little voice was laughing hysterically.

  She sniffed and eased toward the shelter of the building. After a few seconds, the cold and hunger got the better of her. She walked with purpose toward the mottled entrance, waiting outside as she collected her wits. She was about to pull open the door with flair when a couple exited, nearly knocking her to the ground. “Shit!”

  “Oh, sorry,” the woman slurred her words as she gave Jessica a doleful glare. She hung on the man as if for dear life. “Oh, baby.” The two kissed and a sucking noise permeated the air. The entire place was a pigsty. She was leaving on the next available plane.

  “Sure.” Jessica moved inside, sidestepping the couple so obviously enthralled with each other. The moment she stepped inside her stomach growled. Bison or no bison, she was famished and ready to eat a side of beef. Once inside, the sound of honkytonk was much more pronounced. She scanned the perimeter and sighed. This was what bad ‘B’ rated movies were made of. Footloose and fancy-free.

  The moment she entered, the local yocals began staring at her, including the sexy man who would now be considered her nemesis. Stoker stood at the corner of the bar, talking with Garcia and two women who had to be on the rodeo circuit, if there was such a thing in the hick town. Maybe switching to country music wasn’t a good idea. She’d never pawn herself off as a cowgirl. She gave him a curt nod before moving to the other end of the bar. Very casually she scanned the perimeter. Ralph was nowhere to be seen. “Damn it.”

  “What’ll it be pretty lady? Seems like you mighta had a rough day.”

  “Try my entire life.” The bartender’s draw was too smooth, too practiced. “Cabernet. That is if you have such a delicacy.”

  “Well, I have an ear if you need one. We also have many things that can cure that sour puss attitude of yours.”

  “Why is everyone in this two-bit town so…so… Arrogant?” Jessica knew her voice had risen to the point she was creating at least a small commotion.

  The gruff man gave her a grin before shaking his head. “Got another visitor in town. Y’all be nice to her now.”

  Laughter as well as whistles sparked around her. She realized she was blushing, given the heat encompassing her face was intense. “A good cabernet please. Not rotgut.” She feigned a yawn and took another glance around the garish place. Every male in the joint was staring at her and half the women had expressions of disdain. Only Stoker raised his beer bottle, giving her a respectful nod. She looked away without so much as a nod in return. Arrogant men, she had zero time for.

  “Here you go,” the bartender said as he pushed the glass across the top of the bar. “Oh, and don’t mind the fellows in here. They’re all talk and little action.”

  “What do I owe you?” She could swear every man was wearing a different cologne.

  “Not a red cent. You have an admirer.” The bartender winked and nodded in another direction.

  Jessica didn’t have to look to know the man responsible for purchasing her wine. Stoker was showing off. As if she’d sleep with him. Christ. Were all men the same no matter where they came from? She refused to look in his direction. Not yet. She’d acknowledge it if she so deemed it so. After taking a sip then another, she allowed a darted glance over her shoulder. He was surrounded by a group of people. Was she supposed to say thank you? Nope. Not her style. She’d drink and order another, of which she’d pay for. She refused to owe any man. Maybe she’d go over after that. Maybe she wouldn’t. She cringed and turned toward the bar, studying the various bottles positioned just so on the shelf. In the mirror behind the liquor she had a bird’s eye view of the haughty cowboy’s activities.

  Jessica couldn’t take her eyes off Stoker. He was enigmatic. Engaging. While his mannerisms were quiet, he was confident if not self-assured. She sighed and looked away. Surrounded by several men and two women, a chick dressed in garish clothing seemed very interested in everything he had to say. Of course, he was involved. A man with such attitude would be.

  “New in town?”

  The voice was gravely, as if spending too much time with a cigarette or a wad of chew in his mouth.

  “Just here for a respite.” She wasn’t even certain why she answered.

  “You running away from something, sugar?”

  She gave him a sideways glance. His southern draw was grating. “My life. Do you have a recipe for that?”

  He chuckled and placed his hand on the small of her back.

  Plastering on a shit eating grin, she turned and shoved her leg into his groin. “No touching.”

  His eyes opening wide, he held up his hands. “A bit of a ball buster, ain’t ya?”

  “Careful, Shilo. This woman has balls the size of a bronco.” Stoker leaned against the bar.

  “I suppose you want a thank you.” She didn’t bother looking in his direction.

  “A thank you? My bet is that’s a tough one for you.”

  Shilo grumbled. “You muscling in?”

  Stoker smiled. “Just finishing up an earlier conversation. I think I saw your wife looking for you.”

  Huffing, Shilo grabbed his beer and waddled off in the opposite direction.

  “I’m not thanking you for that either,” Jessica stated with a heated tone.

 
“No worries. That will come with time.”

  “Excuse me? You think you’re all that, don’t you?”

  Stoker wrapped his hand around her wrist, tugging her close. “Little lady. You’re not only going to ask me for a hard spanking soon enough, you are going to beg me.”

  Jessica was so befuddled she was speechless. As if a line had been drawn in the sand, they remained exactly where they were, both defiant as hell. “Not if you were the last man on earth.”

  “What’s your name? Tell me if you dare.”

  Why did his eyes have to draw her in? “Jessica.”

  Releasing her, he leaned down, whispering in her ear. After winking, he slipped a small card into the palm of her hand. “Well, Jessica, after I whip your ass, I’m going to spend hours kissing every inch of your body. Tell me. Are you wet?”

  She blinked several times as he walked back into the crowd. Wet? She was drenched.

  Chapter 4

  “I can’t see anything!”

  “Get over here, soldier!”

  Boom! Crack!

  “I’m hit! No!”

  Jerking up, Stoker blinked several times, trying to focus. Panting, he scanned the room as he reached for his gun, rolling until he hit the floor. He crawled forward, attempting to find the intruder. Fear rushed through him, leaving him unable to focus. When he realized he’d been dreaming, he sat back, sliding down to the floor. The nightmares were getting worse. He was drenched with sweat and his heart was racing. From where he was, he could see Mac’s chest rising and falling. The pup was used to his night sweats. He glanced at the clock. It was just after one in the morning. He’d only been asleep for thirty minutes.

  He eased toward the pup, laying his head down next to the dog’s warm body, and placed his hand on MacGyver’s neck. Shaking, he buried his face in Mac’s fur.

  Mac lifted his head, offering a single lick.

  “I know, boy. Go back to sleep.” Nights were his enemy, much like the shadowed forests he’d lived in for four months during his last six-month tour. The last two were worse, moments spent in pure Hell. Hissing, he willed the wretched thoughts away.