by Lisa Childs
His motivation. She understood now why he did what he did. It wasn’t for the reasons her brother had wanted to become a Hotshot—for the thrill of danger, or the glory, or the women. It was because of what had happened to his parents and to the Hotshot who’d tried to save them. Maybe he’d figured that if he’d been there, he could have saved them. Or maybe it was like what she’d accused him of. He wanted to devote his life to the one lost trying to save his family.
Guilt tugged at her now—for all the things she’d thought him: cocky, arrogant, superficial, careless.
He was none of those things. He was a good and honorable man. And she’d misjudged him so badly.
She owed him an apology for her misjudgment and for using him. She had destroyed his relationship with her brother. She had screwed up everything she’d set out to do.
She owed both Wyatt and Matthew an apology. While she didn’t agree with her brother’s reasons for wanting to emulate Wyatt, she understood why he would want to be like the firefighter. Wyatt Andrews was an amazing man.
Wanting to apologize to them both, she hurriedly showered and dressed again—in jeans and a soft green sweater. She was reaching for her purse when she heard heavy footsteps cross her porch.
Her heart lifted. He had come back to her.
But when she pulled open the door, it was her brother who stood before her. And he seemed even angrier than he had been during their brief confrontation earlier. His body bristled with it. When he lifted his arm, she instinctively stepped back, almost afraid that he might strike her.
Instead he waved a paper in her face. “You got what you wanted, sis,” he said. “I hope you’re happy now.”
“What are you talking about?”
“After you and Wyatt left,” he said. “I went back to Mom’s to get my mail.” And probably to give Mandy a piece of his mind for setting up the ambush.
Fiona had hardly been able to believe it when her mother had texted an offer to set up a meeting between her and Matthew. Mandy had agreed that they needed to talk. She’d also wanted to mend fences with Fiona over not admitting that she’d known where he was staying. While she’d mended fences with one child, she’d destroyed them with the other.
She owed her mother a thank-you and an apology.
Matthew clutched the paper so tightly in his hand that it crumpled and tore. And his face flushed with anger. “This was waiting for me.”
“This?”
“My rejection letter from the Forest Service Fire Division.”
She grabbed the letter from his hand. And the first thing she noticed was the date in the corner. It had been printed two days before she had even confronted Wyatt at the fire station. “When did you get this?”
“Just now,” he said. “I haven’t been by Mom’s in a while, so I don’t know how long it was sitting there.”
“Do you have the envelope?”
His brow furrowed with confusion. But he pulled a wad of paper from the pocket of his jeans.
She grabbed the torn envelope from his hand and pointed out the postmark date. It must have been sitting among their mother’s junk mail for weeks. It had been printed and mailed before Fiona had ever talked to Wyatt. “I thought this hiring process was supposed to take months?”
That was what he’d told her when he’d first admitted to applying. That was one of the arguments she’d used for him to stay in school—in case he had been rejected. But he had been so certain that, with Wyatt’s recommendation, he would definitely make at least the Forest Service Fire Department. Then later, after some more training, he’d be able to become a Hotshot, too.
“It does take months,” Matthew replied. “Thousands of candidates apply. Then they have to go through rigorous background checks and physicals…”
“And you’ve already been through all that?” she asked. That was why he’d gotten so buff—so he would be able to pass the physical tests. “You applied longer ago than you told me, didn’t you?”
He jerked his head in a sharp nod. “Yeah, I knew if I told you too soon, you’d find some way to ruin it for me.” He glared at her. “And I was right. You ruined it.”
She shook her head. She was the one who was ruined. Her hope that what she and Wyatt had could be real was dashed. She held up the letter to him again, her finger positioned beneath the date. “This rejection letter was sent before you even told me that you intended to apply.”
He took the letter from her hand and studied the date. Then he took the envelope, too, and checked out the postmark. And his face flushed a deeper shade of red than it had from his anger.
“It was sent before I ever tracked down Wyatt Andrews at the fire station,” she said, her voice cracking slightly as pain gripped her.
Why hadn’t Wyatt told her? Why hadn’t he eased her fears? Because then she wouldn’t have thrown herself at him? She wouldn’t have used sex to bring him around to her side?
She’d thought she had been using him. And she’d felt so guilty about it. But he’d been using her instead. God, she was such a fool.
“Sis…?” There was no resentment when he uttered the nickname this time. Instead he sounded tentative, worried.
Tears stung Fiona’s eyes, but she blinked them back and proudly lifted her chin. She would not cry over Wyatt Andrews. He didn’t deserve her emotion. And maybe her brother didn’t, either.
She’d heard all the horrible things he’d said to Wyatt about her. And she had dismissed them then because he’d been angry. She had forgiven him because she loved him.
While she would always love him, she wouldn’t tolerate any more of his disrespect.
“How can you call me controlling?” she wondered. “When I’ve always had so little?”
“What do you mean?” he spoke slowly, as if the question surprised him.
Maybe it had come out of left field. But she wanted to know. She needed to explain.
“I had no control over being taken away from Mom,” she said. “I told the judge what I wanted, but he’d already made up his mind. And I had no control over Wyatt Andrews, either. The fire department had made their decision before I ever slept with him.”
Matthew grimaced as if she’d struck him. Then he cursed. “I had already been rejected. He must have never given me a recommendation. Maybe he’s actually the reason I was rejected…”
His attention returned to her, his eyes narrowed as he studied her face. “Maybe Wyatt’s always been interested in you. Maybe he did this so he’d have a chance with you.”
Fiona snorted at her brother’s paranoia. “I have no control over you, either,” she sadly realized. “You’re going to keep hating me over all those things that were beyond my control. I can’t change the way you feel about me.”
But seeing that letter had changed the way she felt about Wyatt. She had begun to think that he was a good man. An honorable man. But he’d used her. Sure, she’d been using him, too. But…
Her temper ignited, and she grabbed the envelope and letter back from Matt. Then she picked up her purse and keys and headed toward the door.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“To give Wyatt Andrews a piece of my mind…” And maybe another slap in the face.
*
DESPITE HAVING JUST had sex—amazing, hot and crazy sex—with Fiona, Wyatt was still tense. So stressed that he was pounding the bag in the firehouse gym.
“There’s nothing on the radar,” Braden said.
“Does that make you feel better?” Wyatt asked.
Braden shook his head. “No.”
“It’s out there.” Wyatt wasn’t sure if he actually believed it or just hoped that there was. Sure, he hated fires—probably more than most. But he would welcome the distraction of fighting one. Not a monster like Braden kept claiming was on its way. Maybe another car fire on the edge of some remote road…
Something that would sound an alarm and snap Wyatt out of his preoccupation with thoughts of Fiona. With feelings for Fiona—feelings
he didn’t want.
“Are you sure it’s a fire that’s bugging you?” Braden asked. Of course he would be suspicious.
Wyatt had never claimed to have any fire-sensing ability before. He wasn’t like Braden.
And Braden knew that. But since his boss had already called him a hypocrite, Wyatt refrained from sharing anything with him.
Braden chuckled. “She got to you.”
Wyatt punched the bag harder—so hard it nearly snapped back and caught him in the face. The bruise from the woman’s shoe had faded long ago. And Fiona’s slap had never left a bruise. But maybe he needed a blow upside the head now. He needed something to knock some sense into him. He could never have a future with Fiona. She would never be able to accept his career.
A strong hand squeezed his shoulder. “You poor bastard…”
Wyatt shrugged off his hand. “Screw you.”
Braden chuckled again. “You had your chance, but you threw me over for that redhead.”
He was obviously referring to the first night that Wyatt had tried to get him to go out on the town, but then Fiona had showed up in a fury. And turned his world upside down. Just like a monster fire…
“I might give you a second chance, though,” Braden joked, “if you ask nicely.”
“You just want to go out with me again,” Wyatt said, “because women wind up tearing off your clothes.”
Braden laughed. “I’m surprised you’d admit they’d rather see me naked than you.”
If not for Fiona, he would have challenged him—would have initiated some silly game, like who could get the most phone numbers at a bar. He and Cody had played games like that—games that meant nothing to them because no woman ever really had.
Fiona had changed that. She had changed him. That was what women like her did. If anyone had ever been able to get him to quit the team, it would have been her. That was why he had to stay away.
“Maybe I should head out West,” Wyatt said. He switched from the bag to the weight bench.
“For women?”
“For the season,” he said. “You know that’s where something’s bound to start—if it hasn’t already. Then instead of getting flown out, I’d already be there.”
“Wyatt, that’s not a good idea.”
“Other members of the team are already out there.” Already waiting for the season while working at other forestry stations across the country.
“Exactly,” Braden said. “That’s why I need you here. That’s why it’s better we’re stationed centrally. We’ll be ready no matter where it starts.”
He hadn’t been ready—not for Fiona. He’d thought he could handle her, that he could keep it to just sex between them. He’d thought himself incapable of falling for a woman like her. He had been such a fool. Every bit the cocky idiot she’d always thought him.
“You’re right,” he agreed.
Braden sighed. “Ordinarily, I’d love to hear that, but I’ve got a sick feeling instead. I sent Cody out to check all the campsites.”
He had been checking the sites, too. “Not many campers yet.” It was still too cold.
“Some Boy Scout troops are camping this weekend,” Braden said. “Going for some badge for sleeping outside even though it drops to freezing at night.”
Wyatt had done that. With the right equipment, people could camp year-round.
“I’m going to check in with him,” Braden said. “Then I’m going to come back and drag you out. Maybe we will go back to that club…”
“You actually want women fighting over you again?”
“Hey, it wasn’t all bad,” he murmured as he walked off.
The captain was doing better—albeit at Wyatt’s expense. But that pleased him. If Braden could recover from his heartbreak, Wyatt would be fine. It wasn’t as if he and Fiona had been married. They hadn’t even really dated.
Yeah, he was going to be fine. Any minute now…
But that tight knot of tension remained low in his stomach while the pressure remained on his heart. When he and Braden went out later, he’d work on him—convince him to let him join some of the other team members in the West. That would be better. Getting away from Fiona…
Away from temptation.
He focused on the weight bar. While he waited for Braden to return, he would do some reps. The muscles in his arms were already burning, but he didn’t care. He welcomed the physical pain. It was the emotional pain he needed to avoid.
Grunting as he was with each rep, he didn’t hear the footsteps at first—not until they neared the weight bench. “What did Cody say?” he asked. “I’m sure he’d be happy to help you get your clothes torn off.”
“Passing me off on your friend?” a female voice, sharp with anger, asked. “Is that how your team operates?”
His palms suddenly sweaty, he nearly dropped the bar. He quickly settled it into the holders and slid from beneath it. “I was talking to Braden again,” he said.
She glanced around the gym, which was empty but for the two of them. “I don’t see anyone else here.”
“I didn’t know you were, either,” he pointed out. “Why are you here? And why are you so damn angry?”
Sure, he’d left in a rush—with little explanation for his strange panic. But she’d done that to him, too, the first time they’d had sex. She’d snuck out while he’d slept. At least she’d been awake…
She thrust a crumpled paper in his face. “You knew it—you already knew he’d been rejected!”
“Oh…”
Matt’s letter had finally come. He’d thought they’d been mailed out weeks ago.
“You’re not going to deny it?”
“I don’t lie,” he said.
She snorted. “Why do men never realize that a lie of omission is still a lie?”
“Don’t compare me to that weaselly accountant,” he said, and anger coursed through him now. “I would have told you if I was dating other women. And I would have told you about Matt…”
“But you’d wanted to sleep with me instead and you knew I wouldn’t have had anything to do with you if not for my brother.”
Anger snapped his control and he jerked her body against his. His hand on the back of her head, he held her still. And then he kissed her—hungrily and passionately. He kissed her until she kissed him back with just as much hunger and passion. Then he pulled away, and between gasps for breath, he asked, “Who’s the liar now?”
Her heart beating so hard that he could see it in the rapid rise and fall of her breasts, she swung her hand and slapped him across the face.
His skin stung, and he blinked, lifting his hand to where he imagined the imprint of hers probably remained. His face was hot. But then he was hot all over—with desire for her. He reached for her again. He’d take her right there, in the firehouse gym. Standing up or on the weight bench. He didn’t care where; he just had to have her—had to ease the unbearable tension in his body.
His hands had just closed around her shoulders when the alarm sounded, the siren piercing the air. “Damn…”
He had thought he wanted the fire; that he needed the distraction. But it was Fiona he wanted, Fiona he needed. “I would have told you,” he said, “if I could have. But I’m not involved in the hiring process. I didn’t know for sure…”
“You knew,” she said.
He nodded. “I was pretty sure he wouldn’t make it…”
He had that eerie feeling again—that ominous sensation burning in between his shoulder blades and low in his gut. “Fiona…”
But she’d already turned and was walking toward the doorway. Maybe because of the blaring alarm she didn’t hear him. Or maybe she didn’t care.
He would have run after her—would have chased her down and tried to explain his actions, or inactions, as it were. But the fire was here. He instinctively knew this was no small car fire on the side of the road. This was it—the monster Braden had been predicting for weeks.
Despite the slap, Wyatt was glad he�
�d kissed her—because that eerie sensation warned him it might be the last chance he’d had to do so, and not just because she was furious with him.
17
“YOU WERE RIGHT,” Tammy said as she stared at the television over the bar in the curiously quiet Filling Station. Flames shimmered across the screen, smoke rising from the early spring vegetation the fire consumed.
The bar was probably quiet because the firefighters dedicated to the local firehouse were gone. Even the area volunteers had been called out since the fire was close. It roared through the national forest that surrounded the town.
The TV reporter assured the viewers that the town was in no danger. “This forest consists of several hundred acres. The Hotshot team has already set up breaks to stop the fire from jumping toward the town. They are working now on making a break around the area of campsites on the other side of the fire.”
“Who’d be camping now?” Tammy murmured with a shiver of cold and distaste. Her friend was no camper.
“What was I right about?” Fiona asked.
Tammy gestured toward the television screen. “Firefighters are too great a risk. Good thing I didn’t go for it with hunky Dawson Hess.”
Fiona wondered now about her friend. While she met a lot of men, she didn’t often do much beyond flirting with them. Usually she blamed the man—like saying the stripping police officer was impotent. “Why didn’t you?”
Tammy shrugged. “Guess we’ve been friends so long that I’ve started thinking like you.” She glanced up at the TV screen and all those flames and shuddered. “You’re making me—” she paused, obviously for dramatic effect, before continuing with a sarcastic flourish “—cautious.”
Fiona managed a smile. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
Tammy bumped her shoulder against Fiona’s. “I will deny it if you say this to anyone else…” She glanced around the nearly empty bar as if someone might overhear them. “I think it’s actually a good thing. Being cautious saved you from a lot of heartache with that sexy Wyatt Andrews.”
Fiona blinked against the tears blurring her vision. And she couldn’t take her attention from the fire; she had to see what was happening, had to know if Wyatt was all right.