by Jill Shalvis
They stood together like that for a long moment. Lyndie sighed and pushed her hair out of her face, her fingers leaving a long streak of dirt across her cheek and jaw, which joined several streaks already there. Looking at her, he couldn’t believe how badly he’d lost it, and how she’d managed to break through with just her voice and a touch.
“I really think we’re good,” she said.
“Yeah.” He couldn’t look away from her. “We’re good.”
But she frowned, and grabbed his hand, which was bloody. “Where the hell are your gloves?” Pulling them out of his own back pocket, she waved them in front of his face. “Hello, earth to Griffin, come in Griffin.”
A grim smile touched his lips. How was it that this rough and tumble woman drew him? “You’re quite the cuddler, aren’t you.”
Lyndie resisted the urge to smile. “If you want a cuddle, go find your mom.” But because she couldn’t help it, she lifted his palm to her cheek, something inside her reacting to that simple connection. She wondered if he felt it, too. Or was he drowning in all the emotion he faced? “I know today is hard for you,” she said softly. “And that you’re upset and sick with it—”
His thumb skimmed over her jaw. “I’m not sick.”
“Griffin.”
“Do I look sick to you right now, Lyndie?”
She looked him over. Now his eyes were glittering, but not with fear or panic. Before she could mention that, he’d put his free hand on her hip, backing her to a tree. Blocking her from view with his broad shoulders, he looked down at her with an expression that took her breath.
“Maybe you should take my temperature,” he suggested.
Oh, my.
“Here, let me help you.” He covered her mouth with his. He kissed her hard, sucking her tongue into his mouth, and only when she was breathless and letting out pathetically needy little whimpers did he pull back.
Breathing as hard as she was, he held on to her. “Do I feel sick to you?” he asked again.
She put her hand to her pounding heart. “You feel…hot.” My God, she thought, did he feel hot.
“Hot.” He nodded. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”
At her hip, the radio squawked, and never taking his eyes off her, he removed it from its clip and lifted it to her lips.
“Si,” she said, then listened. Sergio spoke, saying they had a group of about twenty men at the southwestern tip of the fire, the closest point to town, and they’d managed to contain that end. Hugging her radio, she looked up at Griffin and felt her eyes go moist. “We’ve got it.”
After nearly six hundred acres and vicious winds fighting them every step of the way, they were finally one-hundred-percent fully contained.
He stared at her. “Sure?”
Gripping his shirt, she tugged him close. “Sure.” And then she did as he’d done…she kissed him, hard and hot as the fire around them.
* * *
At the end of the day, with dusk approaching faster than their exhaustion, another crew came to relieve them. They’d traveled from Mexico City and were going to patrol and mop up, making sure the contained fire didn’t jump any more lines while it burned itself out, an event they figured would take another three days at least.
The mood was light and relieved. Griffin drove back, and Lyndie let him because she was so tired she could hardly keep her eyes open. Down the hill they went as darkness fell, the shadows and bumpy road hypnotizing as she fought to stay awake.
“Close ’em,” Griffin said over the roar of the engine and the wind. “I’ll be on coyote watch.”
She relaxed back against the seat, drifting along on thoughts of a hot shower and a soft bed—only to jerk awake, holding on for dear life when they hit a rut. But she couldn’t have flown out of the Jeep, she was hooked in by the seat belt, and also by Griffin’s arm, which he held out in front of her over every bump they hit.
“Relax,” he said. “I’ve got you.”
I’ve got you.
She closed her eyes, tried to picture herself flying home tonight, which was their plan. By tomorrow morning she’d be wherever she wanted, doing whatever she wanted, when she wanted. Which meant she’d be alone.
I’ve got you.
Funny thing, but no matter how she tried, she just couldn’t get past those three little words and what they meant. Why was it that with this man, she could let her guard down? For once, she didn’t have to have everything covered at all times…
She awoke with a start when someone touched her hip. Sitting straight up, she bashed her head into—
Griffin’s.
“Ouch,” he said, and unhooked her seat belt before rubbing his head.
She could see him in the dark now—they were parked. The lights of the inn twinkled in the background, as did the scents of Rosa’s delicious dinner. Lyndie’s body’s clock was all screwed up but she knew she could have only been out a few minutes.
Rubbing her head where she’d bumped it into Griffin’s, she looked into his face. “I can’t believe I fell that hard.”
“A fifteen-hour day like the one we just had would get to anyone.” He took her hand and pulled her out of the Jeep, slipping an arm around her.
“I’m not that tired,” she said, but didn’t smack his hands away like she might have anyone else. Instead, she leaned into him, surprising them both when she set her head on his shoulder. Just for a moment, she told herself, letting out a little sigh of pleasure when he pulled her closer. Just for a moment…
“Hey.” This was accompanied by a gentle shake. “Let’s get you some food.”
“Right.” She blinked, startled to find herself at the front door, still in his arms. And strong nice arms they were.
Inside Tallulah barked with sheer happiness at the sight of them until their ears felt like they were going to pop off, and Rosa yelled at her to be quiet. Rosa kept hugging her “heroes,” tsking and clucking over them, stuffing them with food until Lynide couldn’t move. She glanced over at Griffin, who was smiling and making small talk, but the tension was still there around his mouth and in his eyes, and she knew he wanted to be home. Pushing away from the table, she smiled. “Okay, let’s hit it.”
“No, no you should stay until tomorrow,” Rosa protested. “Rest.”
“I got a catnap on the way back here. That’s all I needed.”
Rosa rolled her eyes. “How you do that, sleep in pieces, I will never understand. Fine, go. Go wherever the wind blows you, eventually you will come back.”
“I think I’m on the schedule for a fly-in next week.”
“We’ll take what we can get until you admit this is your home.”
“My home is the sky. I’ve told you that.”
“And I’ve told you,” Rosa said calmly, taking their plates away, “That your heart can have more than one home.”
“My heart doesn’t need a home.”
“Of course your heart needs a home.” Rosa made a soft sound of disgust. “Every heart needs a home.”
Uncomfortable, Lyndie glanced at Griffin. He sat watching her, eyes inscrutable.
What was he thinking? And why did she care? Throwing up her arms, she stood. “I’m out of here, Ace. If you want a ride, it’s now or never.”
Striding down the hall, she headed out the front door and ran smack into Nina.
The young woman crossed her arms and held her ground. “I suppose you’re sneaking out of here without me.”
“We already discussed this,” Lyndie said, trying to go around her but she wouldn’t move. “Don’t be mad.”
“I am mad,” she said in her heavily accented English. “You could take me. It would be no skin off your ear.”
“You mean nose. It’d be no skin off my nose.”
“Whatever.”
Lyndie sighed. “I told you why I can’t take you to the States.”
“Yes. You care more about my father than me. And after five years of being friends.”
“Nina—”
&n
bsp; “If your next sentence does not start and end with ‘yes, I will take you’ then don’t bother.”
Lyndie closed her mouth.
And Nina turned away.
“Nina—”
Nina lifted her hand, shook her head. Fine. Lyndie stepped out into the night, then got behind the steering wheel of Tom’s Jeep. She was driving tonight. She was flying tonight. Alone, except for her one passenger, and she could ignore him if she had to.
And she wouldn’t feel guilty for needing to get away from Rosa’s knowing eyes. For leaving Nina. She wouldn’t.
She was in charge of her own destiny, and no one else’s. The freedom of that had always been thrilling, driving her. She understood Nina’s wish to be as free, but that was for her to work out with Tom.
Where the hell was Griffin?
She started the engine. Revved it a few times. “Come on, Ace,” she muttered, and wished the Jeep had a horn that worked so she could blare it.
Finally the front door opened, and he sauntered out. “You’d think you were late for a date,” he said, when he finally got close enough.
“Maybe I am.”
He tossed his two bags in the back and eyed her. “You’re too ornery to have a date waiting for you.”
“Just get in.”
“You really up to flying home?”
“You’d rather stick around here until morning?”
As an answer, he slid his long body into the passenger seat. She put the Jeep into gear but he settled a hand on hers. “Lyndie.”
She let out another sigh. “I’m fine.”
He just looked at her.
“I am. I really can sleep in little increments, it’s a gift from my grandfather.” She softened her voice as he held eye contact. “I just want out, too, you know?”
“Yeah.” His gaze traveled over her face, settled on her lips. “I know.”
14
Before heading to the airport, they picked up Tom so he’d be able to drive the Jeep home, and the three of them rode off into the night in comfortable silence.
At the airstrip, Tom got out, took a long inhale. “Smoke’s down already.” He came around and took Lyndie’s hands. His wizened face creased into an easy smile, his long ponytail of silver hair gleaming in the moonlight. “Thank you.”
“For what? Using up all the gas in your Jeep?”
“For lots of things. For not taking Nina.”
She knew how much Tom still loved this old village as if he’d been born here, knew how he thought everyone loved it as much as he. “I didn’t want her to run away from here because she’s getting antsy,” she said. “I wanted her to work it out with you.”
“She’s going to stay.”
“Tom.” She shook her head, cupped his jaw. “We all know, you’re meant to be here. You love the slower, laid-back lifestyle, the isolation, the wilderness…but it’s not for everyone. There’s not much available to Nina. She’s young, she wants to get out, she wants excitement, she wants to spread her wings.”
“I just want her to spread those wings close to me.”
“Yeah, well, she has other ideas, and my not taking her isn’t going to stop her.”
“What could she possibly want that’s not right here?” he asked, baffled, lifting his hand, gesturing around him in the dark night to the mountains, the quaint town they couldn’t see…everything.
Lyndie lifted a shoulder. “She might not know until she finds it. You had to go find it, remember?”
Tom let out a sad smile. “You know, she said the same damn thing. And I’m still not ready to hear it.” Turning away, he reached into the back of the Jeep to help Griffin with his bags.
Lyndie left them there to go see to her plane. She’d paid Julio to fuel her up and watch over her favorite piece of steel on earth. She’d added his favorite bottle of booze to guarantee he’d done just that.
He must have liked the booze, because he’d also washed the plane until the white wings gleamed. “Hey, baby.” She patted the bottom of the wing as she opened the door. She didn’t like that the plane hadn’t been locked up, and would mention it to Julio, but since there wasn’t anyone around who could pilot it out of here anyway, she supposed there wasn’t much to worry about.
She climbed in and looked with pleasure at the clean floor, the shiny windows. At the pilot’s seat…and the small ball of fluff curled up there.
“You take.”
Lyndie turned and found Julio looking at her from beneath his low cap. In his dark, dark bloodshot eyes was an expectant expression. She laughed, at both the expectation and the way he insisted on using broken English simply because he liked the language. “No. No way. Even if I had more booze for you, I’m not taking a damn cat.”
He got the gist of that statement whether he understood every word or not. No was no in both their languages. So was the emphatic shake of her head that she added.
Julio merely lifted a shoulder and walked slowly away, vanishing into the night.
Without taking the kitten.
“Hey!” she called out to him. “Come back here, I can’t just take this flea-ball—”
“Mew.”
She let out a long breath and stared at the thing. It was all white except for a black spot on its nose and one ear. Well, not white exactly, more like the color of a white T-shirt freshly washed with a dark sock.”Shoo.”
The kitten blinked the bluest eyes she’d ever seen—with the exception of one Griffin Moore—and didn’t budge.
“Shoo,” she repeated, and added a little wave of her hand.
The tiny kitten hunched into the farthest corner of the seat, looking terrified even as it hissed at her.
Ah, hell. “Look, I’m not the bad guy here. I just don’t take stowaways.”
Griffin climbed aboard. “What’s this? Yours?”
“Nope.” Hands on her hips, she stared at the kitten, who was beginning to resemble a pain in her ass. “I’ve got to give this thing back to Julio before we go.”
“He just left in the oldest truck on the planet.”
“Then Tom can take it—” Scooping up the kitten, she jumped out of the plane and strode toward the Jeep. Tom was leaning against it, and when he saw her, he straightened.
“Lyndie, have I told you that you were a godsend this weekend?”
“I was. And now you owe me. I need you to take this kitten—”
“Whoa—” Tom lifted both his hands and flattened himself against the Jeep. “Allergic. Deathly allergic.”
“You are kidding me.”
He sneezed dramatically, then three more times in quick succession.
“Okay, okay,” she muttered, pulling the kitten back against her. “Damn it.”
Tom sneezed once more, then slid into his Jeep. “Sorry. See you next week, with that dentist for the kids, right?”
“Right.” She stared down at the kitten.
The kitten with the laser beam eyes stared right back.
Tom roared off into the night, and she sighed. “I don’t like cats.”
The kitten showed her tiny teeth and hissed again. For added measure, the little thing displayed its brand-spanking-new and needlelike claws, right before she dug them into Lyndie’s chest.
“Hey!” She tried to pry the thing loose but the kitten had quite a grip on her tank top and didn’t appear to have any inclination to let go. She pulled harder, and beneath her fingers, she could feel the ribs of the kitten, which went a long way toward squelching her urge to toss it into the air. “You’re starving,” she said, and felt her heart sink.
“You’re not going to leave it here, are you?”
She stared into those light blue feline eyes and then turned to look into another pair of blue eyes, these filled with complicated human emotions she didn’t know what to do with. “But how can I just take it?”
“I don’t know.” Griffin stroked the kitten beneath its chin. “But it’s going to be interesting to watch you decide, either way.”
&nbs
p; “What does that mean?”
“It means you, Lyndie Anderson, have a little commitment issue.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
He looked amused. “Are you telling me you’re not reserved to an extreme? That you don’t like to pretend you have no one in your life, when in fact you’re close to—and loved—by several people that I know of?”
Rolling her eyes, Lyndie brushed past Griffin and got into the plane. She set the kitten down on a seat, and was hissed at again for her trouble. “Okay, listen up,” she told it. “I’m the boss here. Rip those seats with your claws and you’re Dead Kitty Walking.”
“That’s so adorable,” Griffin said. “You’re bonding already.”
“Shut up.”
With a grin, he brushed against her back as he came closer. For a beat he settled his big hands on her shoulders, his mouth at her ear. “I love it when you sweet talk.”
At his touch, she shivered, but kept staring at the cat. “It’s half starving, you know.”
“Yes.”
“It’s just begging to be eaten by some nosy coyote the moment I take off.”
“If you were going to leave it here, yes.”
“Fine.” She tossed up her hands. “It can come. But don’t tell Nina, she’ll be even more pissed I said no to her and yes to this fleabag.”
“Ah. Too many strings on your heart.” He nodded. “That’s what you’re worried about. You might have to talk, laugh, have a good time, even…open up.”
“I laugh plenty, not that it’s any of your business. And I don’t know what you’re griping about, I’m taking you, aren’t I?”
“You’re getting paid to take me.”
She stared at him. “You make it sound so…so missionary.”
“No, you do that all on your own.”
His eyes were fathomless now, revealing nothing, and that he could do that at all made her mad, made her want to reach him, want to know what he was thinking. “Yes, this is my job. Some of us don’t have the luxury of not working for an entire year,” she said.