“His people?” Falyn asked.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. He just said his people.”
Falyn sat with me on the sofa in front of the television, surrounded by firefighters and hotshots. As the night wore on, the crowd thinned, but Falyn, Darby, and I remained, waiting for any word other than Trex’s updates that really weren’t updates at all. The only thing we knew is that no bodies had been found.
Falyn held my hand and squeezed, her body sinking further into the sofa. Darby brought us coffee and a plate of donuts, but no one touched the food.
Trex came over, sitting in the chair adjacent to the sofa.
“Any word?” I asked.
Trex shook his head, discouraged.
“What about the rescue team?” Falyn asked.
“Nothing,” Trex said. “I’m sorry. My guys only give visual confirmation, and they haven’t seen anyone in an hour. The helos are up with spotlights, but the smoke is making it difficult to see.” He glanced at Darby, wishing he had better news. “I’m going to call them in ten minutes. I’ll let you know the second I hear anything.”
I nodded, and then the lobby doors swept open.
Tyler walked in, his skin black with soot. He removed his hard hat, and Falyn stood and I jumped up, sprinting toward him and hitting him at full speed.
“Oh my God,” I cried softly into his ear. “Oh my God, you’re here. You’re back.” I leaned back, seeing the matching clean streaks striping his cheeks. I hugged him again, and he squeezed me tight.
“We didn’t find him. I can’t find him, Ellie,” he choked out.
“We had to drag him out,” Jubal said, wiping his dirty forehead with the back of his wrist. He looked exhausted, clean lines fanning out from around his eyes.
“No!” Falyn cried.
Tyler released me and walked over to Falyn, pulling her into his arms. He whispered in her ear as she shook her head, and then her knees gave way, her wails filling the lobby.
My eyes blinked open, hearing the middle of Tyler and Falyn’s conversation. She was going to work, unable to sit around and wait any longer.
“Are you going back out?” she asked.
“I’m not sure they’ll let me. I might have punched one or two people before they removed me from the area,” Tyler said.
“He’s your brother,” Falyn said. “They’ll understand.”
Tyler tensed, and I reached up to touch his shoulder. “He’s going to walk in that door any second. They haven’t found them. That’s a good thing.”
He nodded.
“Come on. Let’s get you a shower.” I stood, pulling Tyler with me. He stumbled to the elevator and then down the hall to our room. I guided him in and to the bathroom, where I unbuttoned his shirt, hooking it on the door, and then pulled off his undershirt, and then the rest of his clothes and boots.
I reached over to twist the knob to the shower, checking the temperature before I let him step in. He closed the curtain, but I could hear him crying.
I leaned my head against the wall, closing my eyes, taking in deep, cleansing breaths to ease the stress and the sudden, deep thirst making my entire body ache. I thought about Stavros and how easy it would be to talk him into a beer for Tyler. Just one. I was tired, and afraid, and worried for Tyler, but I had to be present. I had to stay sober. I stood up, refusing to give in. It was the first craving of many, but I only had to get through one at a time.
Tyler turned off the water and I handed him a towel. He dried off his face and then wrapped the towel around his waist, hugging me against the wall. I placed my hand on the back of his neck, kissing his cheek.
“He’s coming back,” I whispered. “We should get back down there. You’ll want to be there when he walks in the door.”
Tyler nodded, then wiped his nose, turning to rinse his mouth and dress again. He held my hand as we walked downstairs, stopping when he stepped into the lobby. His brother was chatting with a small group, just as filthy as Dalton and Zeke standing next to him. They were shaking hands and hugging the remaining Alpine crew.
“You stupid dick,” Tyler said, stomping over to his brother. They hugged each other so hard I heard their fists pound their backs. Tyler lost it.
My eyes filled with tears, and Trex hooked his arm around my shoulders as we watched Taylor and Tyler reunite. I gave them a moment, and then I walked over to them, inserting myself into their embrace.
“Hey,” Taylor said, a tear dripping off the end of his nose.
“Falyn was here,” I said.
Taylor pulled away. “What? She was here?” he asked, pointing to the floor.
I nodded. “She waited here all night. Worried sick. You should call her.”
Taylor patted his pockets, looking for keys. He pointed to Tyler. “Love you, brother. I gotta see about a girl.”
“Get outta here, shit stain. Don’t come back ‘til she’s yours.”
Taylor ran to his truck, squealing his tires.
Tyler turned and threw his arms around me. “Fuck,” he said, letting out a sigh of relief.
The crew patted him on the back, just as relieved and emotional as Tyler. I hugged Zeke and Jew, and then the rest of the guys while Tyler spoke with a few of the officials.
He came back to me, lifting me into his arms and carrying me to the elevators while the hotshots made ridiculous hooting noises and catcalls.
My eyes were suddenly heavy, and I leaned against his shoulder. The elevator chimed and Tyler stepped inside, maneuvering a bit so I could press the button to the second floor. He carried me to the room, and again waited while I touched the key card to the lock. The door clicked, and Tyler pressed down on the handle, pushed the door with his foot, and then lowered me to the bed.
I snuggled up to his neck, melting against him as he enveloped me in his arms.
“I didn’t know Falyn and Taylor were having problems.”
“Yeah, they’re broken up.”
“Even though she’s pregnant? I don’t see him letting that fly.”
“Falyn isn’t pregnant.”
I sat up, slapping his chest. “Shut the front door! Are you serious?”
Taylor propped his head with his arm. “She broke up with him, and he went to California to see Tommy. He hooked up with one of Tommy’s colleagues. I guess she’s going to have it but doesn’t want to keep it. How weird is that? Taylor is getting full custody.”
“Whoa. You think they’ll work it out?”
He shrugged. “She was here all night. She has to still care about him. Come here,” he said.
I bent down, getting comfortable next to him.
He touched the back of his wrist to his forehead. “Wow. That was intense. I don’t know what I would have done if something happened to Taylor. That makes us three-and-oh the last couple of years.”
“What do you mean?”
“Taylor, Trent, and Travis have all had close calls.”
I buried my face into Tyler’s neck. “It’s not your turn.”
“Well, it damn sure ain’t Tommy’s turn. He’s an ad exec.”
“Are you sure?” I asked.
Tyler paused. “What makes you say that?”
“Well … your family thinks you and Taylor are insurance salesmen. What if Thomas isn’t what you think he is?”
“What do you think he is?”
“A cop.”
Tyler snorted.
“I’m serious. Or something. He lives in San Diego, right? Isn’t there a federal building there? He’s something. So is his girlfriend. I saw Travis walking to their room the morning after the wedding, early.”
“You have quite an imagination.”
“Abby knows,” I said.
“Abby knows what?”
“About you.”
He laughed once. “No, she doesn’t.”
“Yes, she does. And she knows about Travis, too.”
“What about Travis?”
“Whatever he’s not telling her. She’s smart. I’m
smart, too. I’m a photographer, Tyler. I notice things. I’m always looking at people. I knew you were inherently good, didn’t I?”
He frowned, unwilling to concede just yet.
“I think your dad knows,” I said.
“What?” he said, lifting his head. “Where is all this coming from?”
“I’ve known. I watched them at Thanksgiving. Abby was asking you all of those weird questions, and she and Jim had a look.”
“A look,” he deadpanned.
Tyler’s phone went off, and he dug it out of his T-shirt pocket. “Huh.”
“Who is it?”
“Dad. He texted me.”
“What does it say?”
“He’s just checking in, asking if everyone is okay.”
I leaned up to his ear, kissing his cheek. “Told you.”
“No way,” he said, tapping out a reply and then putting his phone away.
“He’s a former detective. You think he can’t figure you out?”
“Why wouldn’t he say anything?”
I shrugged. “Maybe he’s just letting you think you’ve fooled him. Maybe he knows there’s a reason why you lied, so he’s letting it go.”
“Since Dad’s psychic, maybe he can tell me when you’re going to pick a date for the wedding,” he said, only half-teasing.
I slipped my hand under Tyler’s T-shirt, running my fingertips up his chest. “I thought you said you didn’t care.”
“Of course I care, baby. I’m just not going to pressure you about it.”
Tyler’s skin was warm under my hand, his chest rising and falling with each breath. I thought about when we first met, how sweaty and sexy he had been, trading punches in my parents’ gallery room. We had conquered heaven and hell, fire and ice, and he’d stuck with me through it all.
“My mother seems to be very concerned about me affording the condo.”
“Yeah, but your dad’s not worried.”
“If Taylor’s going to be a dad … won’t he and Falyn need their own place?”
“Yeah, wow. I hadn’t thought about that.”
“Maybe you should give them the apartment, and you move into the condo with me?”
Tyler turned onto his side and propped his head with his hand. “What?” he said, suspicious.
I shrugged. “You can pay half the rent. We can get married after fire season…”
Tyler’s eyebrows shot up. “After this fire season?”
“Too soon?”
He cupped my jaw, turning until his torso was hovering over me. “Baby,” he said, pressing his lips to mine and sliding his tongue inside. I reached up his shirt, pressing my fingers into the muscles in his back.
“Like October? November?” he said against my lips.
I nodded.
He touched his forehead to mine, already emotional from the day. “Are you fucking with me?”
“I don’t need anything fancy, do you?” He shook his head. “Pick a Saturday.”
He scrambled for his phone, opening his calendar. “November seventh. That way we’re sure fire season is over, and maybe some of the guys will still be around.”
“Sounds great.”
“November seventh,” he repeated.
“Perfect.”
“Last chance to change your mind. I’m texting Dad,” he said, waiting for me to call his bluff.
I waited, amused.
He held his phone to his chest, closing his eyes. “If you’re bullshitting me, it’s going to break my fucking heart.”
“Tyler Maddox!” I grabbed his phone, typed out the message, and sent it, turning the phone to show him. “It’s sent. It’s a done deal. I’m your wife on November seventh.”
He touched my cheek with his hand, running his thumb along my jawline. “You sure you’re ready?”
“What is there to be afraid of? You’ve already seen my ugly side and loved me through it.”
“What if the situation was reversed?”
I bit my lip, staring at his. He was honest, he was strong, he was beautiful, and he was mine. “You’re not the only one who would walk through fire for what you love.”
He scanned my face, breathed out a laugh, and shook his head, pressing his lips against mine.
THE END.
READ MORE ABOUT TREX AND DARBY IN OTHER LIVES, A NEW CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE NOVEL RELEASING WINTER 2016.
HTTP://WWW.JAMIEMCGUIRE.COM/UPCOMING-PROJECTS/
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Writing about something I know nothing about is always a fun challenge for me, most of all finding an expert who is willing to talk to the “author who is writing a fictional book on the subject.” I happened to know the expert in this case, but had no idea he was an interagency hotshot crewmember until I complained to my husband one day about how much trouble I was having finding someone to talk to about wildfire fighting. Cowboy asked me why I didn’t just message Tyler Vanover. With much excitement (and a smidgeon of doubt), I sent Tyler a message asking if he had, in fact, been a hotshot. Tyler confirmed he had—although he was shocked I knew, apparently not many people do—and shortly after I had eight full pages, front and back of notes.
Tyler, before I can thank you for the hours of stories, tips, and information you shared with me, I have to thank you for your service as a wildland firefighter. After all the research I’ve done on this subject, I am in awe of anyone who would do this job willingly, much less with enthusiasm fire season after fire season. The arduous physical labor, the long hours, and the minimal sleep hotshots endure earn them the title of elite firefighters. The danger level alone is enough to make me fear for everyone who puts themselves between the flames and someone’s home, or farm, or even an entire town. Thank you, Tyler, for helping me with the details of this story, but it is an honor to know a true hero.
Megan Davis began as a reader I met several years ago at the first Book Bash in Orlando, Florida. We took a picture together, and to this day, it’s one of my favorites. I remember chatting with her after that photo was taken, and she was so cool in conversation I’d thought that maybe she’d just taken a picture with me because she saw others doing it. Today, Megan is my right hand (wo)man. She is responsible for the chapter containing Ellie’s first week with the hotshots. I was going to skip over that part but Megan wanted more. It was because I wrote that chapter that Beautiful Burn took a new direction, one that I truly loved, and all because I filled a gap I didn’t know was empty. Thanks for all you do for me, Megan, but most of all, thanks for asking for more.
Thank you to Jennifer Danielle for reading the ARC with me in the wee hours of the night, and to Nina Moore for always saying yes to making amazing promotional graphics. A big thanks to Jessica Landers for moderating a large group of awesome readers called the MacPack. I don’t know what I would do without any of you!
Thank you to Deanna for assuring me this book was just as addictive as every Maddox book should be, and for helping me with the dreaded blurb. Thank you most for being my best friend, and for listening to me rant and squeal and everything in between.
More thanks goes to Murphy Rae, Madison Seidler, and Jovana Shirley for help in the production of this book, to Hang Le for an amazing cover, and to Bec Butterfield for her help in Australian slang. To authors Kristen Proby and Jen Armentrout, for their support along the way, and to my agent, Kevan Lyon, who came out of 2015 with me with amazing grace and patience.
Finally, thanks to L3 for being my bubble of positivity, and to my squad: Megan, Jessica, Chu, Liis, Deanna, and Misty. You are the butter on my bread.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
JAMIE MCGUIRE was born in Tulsa, Oklahoma. She attended Northern Oklahoma College, the University of Central Oklahoma, and Autry Technology Center where she graduated with a degree in Radiography.
Jamie paved the way for the New Adult genre with the international bestseller Beautiful Disaster. Her follow-up novel, Walking Disaster, debuted at #1 on the New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal bestseller lists. Be
autiful Oblivion, book one of the Maddox Brothers series, also topped the New York Times bestseller list, debuting at #1. In 2015, books two and three of the Maddox Brothers series, Beautiful Redemption and Beautiful Sacrifice, respectively, also topped the New York Times, as well as a Beautiful series novella, Something Beautiful.
Novels also written by Jamie McGuire include: apocalyptic thriller and 2014 UtopYA Best Dystopian Book of the Year, Red Hill; the Providence series, a young adult paranormal romance trilogy; Apolonia, a dark sci-fi romance; and several novellas, including A Beautiful Wedding, Among Monsters, Happenstance: A Novella Series, and Sins of the Innocent.
Jamie is the first indie author in history to strike a print deal with retail giant Wal-Mart. Her self-published novel, Beautiful Redemption hit Wal-Mart shelves in September, 2015.
Jamie lives in Steamboat Springs, Colorado with her husband, Jeff, and their three children.
Find Jamie at www.jamiemcguire.com or on Facebook, Twitter, Google +, Tsu, and Instagram.
Beautiful Burn (Maddox Brothers #4) Page 30