“We gotta go!” Maddox whirled his hand in the air. It was hard to tell the twin brothers apart anyway, but covered in dirt in the dark, it was impossible.
“I’m with you,” Zeke said, gesturing for me to climb onto the ATV.
Jew and the Aussies loaded up into Harbinger’s Jeep, Maddox rode with Martinez, and we kicked up dust as we hauled ass toward the Complex. The fire ripped through everything in its path. Zeke pointed me to a narrow route of escape.
“There!” he yelled. “We can slide right through if we can get there in time.”
The Jeep turned to make a straight line to the point Zeke had said to go. The rest of his crew were on the same page. I turned too, and twisted back the throttle, sending the ATV flying over the rocky hills and past the last of the unburned trees for hundreds of acres.
The Jeep slipped through the opening in the fire, but it was clouded with smoke, and I couldn’t see what was on the other side.
Zeke patted my thigh. “You’ve got this!”
I readjusted my feet, ready for the possibility of impact on the other side, and surged forward through the smoke. When the haze cleared, the Jeep was just a few feet in front of me. I tapped on the brake and banked left, then caught up with everyone until we reached the fenced perimeter of the Complex. We followed Harbinger through the check points to the entrance where Interagency trucks were waiting, ready to take the boys home.
Zeke crawled off the back of my ATV, glancing at his crew before returning his attention to me. “Not to complain, but you’re going to make us look bad if you keep this up.”
I unbuckled my helmet, wiping the smoke from my eyes. “We served as a glorified taxi service this time.”
“We’d dug a line and holed up in that crevice waiting for the fire to roll over, but we probably would’ve suffocated to death. We’re lucky you came when you did.”
“Not on my watch,” I said, hugging him, pressing my cheek against his.
“Told ya,” Martinez grumbled.
I raised my middle finger behind Zeke, making sure Martinez got a good look.
Zeke turned to look over his shoulder at his men loading up. “I should go. We have a lot of worried friends back at the hotel. Will you meet me there?”
“Just call me when you’re settled in,” I said, lighting a cigarette.
“Okay. I wanna hear about your trip.”
I breathed out a laugh with the smoke. “You nearly died a horrible death, and you want to know about my day.”
He held my cheeks, grazing his thumb across my lips. “Yes.”
My eyes danced between his as I deliberated, then I leaned up on the balls of my feet, starting my new life by pressing my lips against his. His lips were dry and cracked from his time in the sun and a day without water, but I pulled him closer. The men yelped and catcalled behind us as his hands left my face, and he wrapped his arms tightly around me. He tasted like dirt, smoke, and sweat, and I only wanted more.
He pressed his slick, dirty forehead against mine. “See you soon.”
I nodded, watching him load up in the back of a truck. They all waved to us, keeping eye contact until we couldn’t see them anymore.
I sat on the ATV, exhausted but happy.
“Naomi,” Sloan said. “Tell me I didn’t walk out on a date to save your boyfriend’s ass again.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I said, standing.
“You looked pretty cozy to me,” Kitsch said.
“Yet,” I said. “He’s not my boyfriend yet.”
Harbinger and Kitsch chuckled. Martinez and Sloan weren’t amused.
“They wouldn’t have made it out without us,” I said.
“This makes twice,” Martinez said. “Maybe they should find an alternative career if we can do it better than they can.”
I shifted my weight, squaring off with Martinez. “Did you hike miles to that location? Did you dig a fire line all fucking day? Then shut the fuck up.”
“I didn’t realize how soft men made you,” Martinez said.
Kitsch only used Martinez’s first name—Othello—when he wanted him to listen the first time. “O, you’re going to get your ass kicked,” he warned.
I glowered at him. “You’ve been bitching for weeks that you were bored. We go do something for once, and you’re whining and insinuating I made a decision based on emotion?”
“Well, yeah,” Martinez said.
Kitsch handed me a cigarette and a lighter. “Take it easy, Nomes,” he warned.
I cupped my hand over the end of the cigarette to light it then tossed the lighter back to Kitsch. “Martinez, I don’t recall giving you shit when you made us late for a mission because you were too busy getting crabs from that prostitute in Sudan. Or that you slowed us down even more because you couldn’t walk without scratching? Did I say, ‘I didn’t realize how often you make stupid decisions with your dick?’ No, I didn’t.”
“That’s different,” Martinez said.
I narrowed my eyes. “I should have let Kitsch shank you.”
“All right. That’s enough,” Harbinger said. “I’m going back into the Complex to take a shower so my wife doesn’t think I went camping. And put out that cigarette, Naomi. We don’t need another goddamn fire out here.”
I looked down, seeing the ash grow longer, the dry grass beneath coming into view. I spit in my hand and dabbed it out until it was sopping wet before sticking it my pocket. Harbinger was right. Smoking outside and flicking my ashes everywhere was stupid when something like that could be the cause of the fire Zeke was fighting.
“Get some lemon from one of the kitchens. It gets the smoke out,” I said to Harbinger.
Sloan smiled. “Tip from your boyfriend?”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I said, walking to the FJ past a pouting Martinez.
“Sorry,” he grumbled.
“Whatever,” I said, slapping his ass—hard—when I went by.
He grabbed his backside, trying to hold in a yelp. “I deserved that.”
“Yes, you did.”
The moment I reached my SUV, the sun breached the mountaintops. I yawned, pulling the gearshift into Reverse. Zeke texted me before I reached the exit, so I pulled over to answer.
Just leaving, I typed.
I’m back in the room. I know it’s a lot to ask since you’ve been up all night, but would you mind stopping by?
I’ll be there in fifteen.
I hadn’t planned on going anywhere else, but it was nice that Zeke had asked—to know he wanted to be with me as much as I wanted him. The drive seemed to take longer than usual, even though I pulled into the Colorado Springs Hotel exactly fourteen minutes later.
The lobby was cleared out, a female front desk clerk that wasn’t Darby smiled at me as I passed. Zeke knew I’d take the stairs, waiting for me at the top. He wasted no time pulling me against him, his hair still damp from a shower.
I pushed him back gently. “You’re clean, and I’m filthy. Is Maddox trying to sleep?”
Zeke shook his head. “He went to the Bucksaw Cafe.”
“Oh yeah,” I said, clasping my hands around the back of his neck.
“His girlfriend was here all night and left this morning. She probably thought he was a goner.”
“I should have brought her with me. We could’ve become this little superhero duo who goes around saving our men when they get into trouble.”
Zeke’s eyebrows raised, the lines on his forehead deepening. “Am I? Your man?”
I shrugged one shoulder. “Aren’t you?”
A ghost of a smile touched his lips, and he nodded. “I am.”
I wiped his hand with my finger and frowned.
“What?” he asked, unsure.
“I got you dirty. Looks like you’re going to need another shower.”
Zeke blew out a breath, looking both eager and nervous. He picked me up, holding me by the hips as I locked my ankles at the
small of his back. He lifted his chin, and I grabbed his cheeks, kissing him while he walked us to his room. He fumbled with his key card, but once we were in, he locked the bolt lock and took me straight to the bathroom, lowering me to the floor.
I bent down to unlace my boots, then stood up to pull off my work shirt. I reached down to slowly unbutton and unzip my cargo pants, letting them fall to the ground. I used my toes to pull off my boots, then I kicked them to the side.
Zeke scanned my body, breathing out again. “Is this really happening?”
My sports bra came off then my cotton panties.
“This is really happening,” he said, answering himself.
I grabbed his once-clean T-shirt—now smudged with the grime from my clothes—and pulled it over his head. He looked down at me while I ran my hands over the highs and lows of his smooth torso, then over the bulges of his shoulders, letting my fingertips graze down his back and over his hips, landing on the waistband of his shorts.
I pulled them forward, over his already bulging dick, and they dropped to the floor. He touched his lips to mine gently, reaching behind me to push the curtain to the side and turn the knob.
The showerhead began to spray, and Zeke wrapped his arms around me, holding my bare chest against his. My skin burned, my nerves throwing a fucking party, the apex of my thighs crying out to touch more of him. There was nothing between us, but I only wanted him to hold me tighter.
Zeke checked the water then walked me backward.
“Watch your step,” he said, guiding me over the edge of the tub.
I’d had lovers before Matt, but none after until Zeke. Annie had warned me not to compare, so I didn’t. Zeke touched me with experience, but it was different, and that was hard to ignore.
He took the soap in his hand, lathering up and running the suds over my skin from face to toes, then he poured shampoo in his hands and massaged it into my hair, pausing for tiny kisses on my cheek, the corner of my mouth, and neck. Something about the water amplified the sensation of his touch, and I felt nearly on the edge each time his lips or hands made contact with mine.
Once the soap was washed away, the murky remnants of the Arlington mud and the fire swirled around the drain and disappeared forever. Zeke used his thumb to gently lift my chin so that my gaze would meet his.
“You okay?” Zeke asked. He looked down at me, water dripping from his hair and nose.
I nodded, wrapping my hands around his neck, then lifting my leg slowly until my knee was hooked at his hip. I brought my leg closer, pulling Zeke closer too. He kissed me while he positioned himself, sliding in with little resistance, slick with how much I wanted him. I leaned my head back, letting the water pelt my face. Zeke was gentle, showing incredible restraint because as deep as his fingers dug into my skin, I knew he was fighting against his own needs to be purposefully tender. His lips left mine, making a line down my neck, and I sighed.
We stayed in the shower until our fingers were pruny, until we’d both climaxed at least twice, and until we were fighting to keep our eyes open. In a queen-sized bed, I was on my stomach in nothing but one of his over-sized navy blue Alpine Hotshots T-shirts, Zeke watching me from just inches away, both our cheeks against our pillows.
His eyes opened and closed slower each time as he struggled to keep eye contact.
“Sleep,” I whispered.
“I’m afraid if I do, I’ll wake up and realize this wasn’t real.”
“It’s real,” I said.
He closed his eyes, took my hand, kissed my knuckles and then relaxed, his breathing evening out within seconds.
chapter twenty-two
breaking up the band
Zeke
“W
ipe that grin off your face, Zeke, and get to work!” Chief yelled.
I couldn’t. I’d been smiling for days, and it wasn’t going away anytime soon. We just had one more night on this tour, and I was getting on everyone’s nerves. I didn’t even care.
“What’s up with you?” Jubal asked. He smiled. I smiled. That gave it away. “Zeke, are you in love?”
“He got laid,” Taylor said.
I punched his arm. “I haven’t told you shit, Maddox.”
“You don’t have to,” Taylor said, chuckling while he worked. “You’ve got the look.”
“The five-year dry spell is over?” Watts asked.
“It hasn’t been five years, shut up.”
“All of you shut up and get to work!” Chief yelled again.
“Glad you found someone,” Jubal said, digging next to me.
“Maybe,” I said. “I’m batting way outta my league. Just hoping she doesn’t figure it out for a while.”
“Don’t underestimate yourself.”
We finished the fire line then used our drip torches to start controlled fires to burn out the fuel before the fire came that way. By afternoon we were in the black again, planning new attacks.
Bobby dropped sludge a few miles north.
Jubal frowned and pulled out his binocs. “That’s where the Geronimos were. They dug in pretty good or they on the move?” he called to Chief.
Chief pulled the radio from his ear. “They already moved. They said the wind is going to change.”
“It hasn’t, has it?” Jubal asked.
The brass called again, and he got of the radio half-impressed, half-bewildered. “It moved.”
Runt’s excitement for that opportunity made his exhaustion melt away, and his pace picked up as we followed Chief to the next hot spot.
“Does she know everything yet? The foster situation? Your bio mom?” Sugar asked, walking next to me with his Pulaski over his shoulder, his hard hat shielding his eyes from the setting sun.
“Does anyone really know everything? I know next to nothing about her,” I said.
“You know what I mean.”
“She knows the best parts. That’s all she needs to know.”
“Enough!” Jubal yelled. “Look!”
We came to the top of a ledge and looked over at the rolling tops, some covered in pines and aspens, about a fourth dead and fallen, waiting to be eaten and spit out by the approaching fire. The sky was filled with a gray haze, the sun shrouded but still managing to cast a light that mirrored the flames below.
“Take it all in, boys,” Jubal said. “Last hike this year.”
The fire was 99% controlled, and the crew was loading up and traveling back to Estes Park. Everyone except me, and Taylor was probably staying behind too. One more hot spot. One more attack. One more night sleeping on the ground with just an emergency blanket to fight the cold. I was one flight away with Bobby to fire camp to her. Naomi was on the other side of tonight. I’d never been so anxious to get off a tour. Whatever it was, I wanted more.
chapter twenty-three
history for sale
Naomi
“S
he left me,” Peter said. His tie was loose, his first button undone, sweat dripping from his temples. His palm was flat against the doorjamb as he hunched over.
I held my door open but stood stubbornly in his way. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
He crossed his arms over his suit coat, white flakes falling onto his slick, dark hair. “Can I come in?”
“No.”
“No?” he asked, surprised. “Naomi, c’mon. It’s freezing out here.”
“Then get back into your fancy car and leave.”
Peter made a face.
I rolled my eyes and stepped aside. “Fine.”
Peter took off his scarf and coat, and I directed him to hang them in the closet. He looked around and nodded toward the half-empty bottle of beer on the table. “Pre-gaming?”
I shrugged.
“Can I have one?” he asked.
“They’re in the fridge.”
I sat at the dining table, listening to the door open then close, and the beer top pop before Peter sat down, a chair bet
ween us.
He set the cap on its top and moved it around in a figure eight with his index finger. “She said it was coming.”
“Where’d she go?” I asked.
“Back to Maryland … with her mother. Paige knew, Naomi. We knew when we married it wasn’t love. She knew I was in love with you and she was in love with, Malcolm Trebec,” he said, looking disgusted and bewildered at the same time. “My father was a congressman I was being groomed as one too, and her father was neck deep in business and politics.”
“I recall,” I said, unimpressed.
He turned his head to the side. “We’ve been over this.”
I breathed out a laugh. “Do you think I’m still heartbroken over it? You came here.”
He held up his hands, still holding his beer. “I know. I know, I’m sorry.” He sighed. “She didn’t care that I could never get over you. I know she and Malcolm were still sleeping together, even after he married. It was always convenient for me to have a house here.”
“So why did she leave?” I asked.
“I went home. I didn’t call. Malcolm was … he was in my bed. He left, and that should’ve been the end of it, but I wanted to hurt her. So I told her. I told her it didn’t matter because I’d brought you to Colorado Springs. That I could see you every day like I used to, and that was enough for me. And for Paige, I suppose, that crossed a line. She’s tired of pretending.”
“Isn’t that a good thing?” I asked.
He took a long swig of his beer then set the bottle down to rub his face with both hands.
“What?” I asked. “Is she pregnant with your kid or something? Or Malcolm’s?”
“God no. She is obsessive about birth control.”
“Then what?”
“It’s an election year, Naomi. This couldn’t come at a worse time.”
My face fell. “Are you serious?”
“What?” he asked. “Can’t we just talk? We used to be best friends, Naomi. We used to talk for hours, and vent about our asshole dads, our overbearing mothers, and the godforsaken fucking desert.”
“You’re right,” I conceded. “We were friends. Best friends. All the firsts! I loved you right up until you came home from a weekend in the Hamptons and broke up with me because you were engaged to Paige.”
The Edge of Us (Crash and Burn Book 2) Page 18
