“What? I don’t understand.” He looked at the three of them, all of whom were studying him intently. “It’s a gift certificate for skydiving. But I can’t...”
“You can.” Linc clapped him on the shoulder. “I found an instructor out of Reno who’s a master at adaptive skydiving, even taking people with quadriplegia up. He’ll be in the area over New Year’s. What do you say?”
“I...uh...” Garrick swiveled his head, gaze landing on Rain, who had an expectant smile on his face. He’d bundled up in a thick hand-knit cardigan and mittens and looked even more eager than Linc and Jacob. “You were in on this?”
“Well, yeah. And I know a tandem jump isn’t quite the same as a solo flight, but I know how much you’ve missed it.”
“Oh...wow.” All summer and fall, Garrick had worked on coming to terms with not returning to smoke jumping, letting go of the idea that he might never get to experience the high of free fall again. And now his friends were saying that some piece of that might be possible after all.
It was not without risks. But even knowing all those risks, he wanted to, could already feel the wind rising up to meet his face, the tug of the chute when it deployed, and the thump of landing. And yeah, tandem jumping was different, less control for him, but the idea that he could have even a little slice of all that back was intoxicating. As was the fact that Rain seemed to want that for him. He understood him so damn well, on a level that few others could.
“I do want to try. But only if you’re okay with it.”
“I’ll be right there, cheering for you. I’ll keep the coffee hot on the ground, and then we can all watch the video after.”
All Garrick could do was nod at that because the idea of getting one more jump with Linc and Jacob...that was really something. Best present he could imagine from friends he wasn’t sure he deserved and the person who already had his whole damn heart.
“Good. Can’t wait. I’m getting more food. Jacob?” Linc ushered Jacob back into the house, leaving Garrick and Rain alone in front of the fire. A stray flake landed on Rain’s sweater arm, and Garrick brushed it away.
“It’s snowing. Hope it sticks.” Rain’s grin was warmer than the fire, more joyous than the music filtering out from the house, and there was enough mischief in it to have Garrick counting down to when the house might be empty again and they could crawl under the covers in their big bed and watch the snow falling together.
“Thank you.” It wasn’t adequate, but it was all he had.
“Well, most of the logistics was Linc.” Rain waved away the praise. “I’m just your cheering section.”
“And that’s a lot. Everything. Knowing you’re waiting for me...” He shook his head. “I’ve had plenty of reasons to jump before, but never such a good one to come back to earth for. You’re something else.”
“You were willing to wait on me or follow me if that’s what I wanted and needed. I’m just returning the favor.” Rain held his gaze. “And always. You go fly. Cookie and I will be right here. And who knows, if you make it look fun enough, you guys might get me to try it yet.”
“I’d like that. And I like knowing you’re here even more. You don’t have to ever jump to prove something to me. I love you exactly how you are.”
“Same. And this is a part of you.”
“A part of my past,” Garrick corrected, grabbing his hand. “You’re my future. The future I never knew I needed this damn much, but I do. I love you for making this happen for me, but I love you for giving me my future even more. You give me hope, hope that the best parts of my life are still to come. And I can’t thank you enough for that.”
“How about you just love me instead?” Smiling, that secret private pleased grin of his, Rain bent his knees so he could brush a kiss across Garrick’s mouth.
“I can do that.” And he could. And he would. Behind them, the house erupted with laughter, a joke they’d hear about later, but right here, it was only them and that wide-open future full of possibilities. Job changes. New hobbies. More pets. Lots of additional parties over various seasons. Trips. Promises they’d make and vows they might take. They’d grow and change, and Garrick honestly couldn’t wait to see it. He pulled Rain down for another kiss, this one more lingering. This was his forever person, whatever the future brought, and he was going to keep on loving Rain through all of it.
* * *
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Author Note
As I embarked on book two in this series, my research into the world of wildfire fighting and forestry led me down many new and fascinating paths. Like book one, rather than try to copy an existing smoke jumping base with its specific procedures, policies, ways of handling rookies and so on, I combined various bases into one fictional one. The especially eagle-eyed will note that I essentially replaced the Redmond, Oregon, base with my own, but mine is not intended to be an exact duplicate of theirs in any way. Likewise, Painter’s Ridge is an entirely fictional central Oregon town.
While Garrick and Rain both work for the federal Forestry Department, the reality of modern fire management usually involves multiple agencies and interagency coordination at both the state and federal levels. In Oregon alone, fires frequently affect state, federal, and private lands, sometimes all in the same fire. Again, some of these details were simplified to allow the focus to remain on the characters and their growth and their story, but I did try to include as much realism as possible. Wildfire fighting is an arduous job that taxes the people who take it on, and many consider it a calling as much as a vocation. I tried to bring their amazing dedication and resilient spirits to the secondary as well as the main characters. I also tried to reflect the very real dangers the job brings. Garrick’s injuries are far from uncommon because every year, brave and valiant people die fighting wildfires while others are seriously injured.
Garrick’s injuries were another avenue of research for me, and I was fortunate to get amazing help in my endeavors to be as realistic and sensitive as possible. A large number of men with spinal injuries do struggle with sexual function, and I wanted to reflect that in a way that felt organic to this particular story. Likewise, it’s a reality of healthcare in America at the present moment that insurance decisions play a huge role in prognosis and progress. I appreciate all the resources I consulted about Garrick’s condition, treatment, and long-term prospects.
Finally, yes, central Oregon does have a small Pride festival! I fictionalized vendors and activities, but this area of the state is near and dear to my heart, and I tried to reflect its unique culture and vibe as much as possible. The area also features a number of pet rescues who work hard to serve the local community, and the problems in finding Cookie her forever home aren’t intended to detract from the amazing work they do. The town of Painter’s Ridge may be my own invention, but the area’s geography and attractions absolutely helped to flavor the series.
Acknowledgments
As we continue this series, I am truly blessed with an amazing team supporting me, especially at Carina Press and the Knight Agency. My editor, Deb Nemeth, had the exact right blend of enthusiasm and careful critique. Her insightful comments encouraged me as always to dig deeper into revisions. Those revisions were also aided by invaluable beta comments from Edie Danford, Louise Auty, and Cathy Mullican. Wendy Qualls gave her usual amazing plotting sounding-board assistance, and her excitement for Rain’s backstory in particular helped shape the ultimate direction for the book.
My behind-the-scenes team is also so appreciated. My publicist, Judith of A Novel Take PR,
goes above and beyond with every release, and I am so very grateful to her. My entire Carina Press team does a fantastic job, and I am so very lucky to have all of them on board. A special thank-you to the tireless art department and publicity team and to the amazing narrators who bring my books to life for the audio market. A special thank-you to Abbie Nicole, who is new to my team and whose assistance to my writerly life is making a giant difference for me.
My family deserves special thanks for their cooperation and assistance. My life is immeasurably enriched by my friendships, especially those of my writer friends who keep me going with sprints, advice, guidance, and commiseration. I am so grateful for every person in my life who helps me do what I love. And no one makes that possible more than my readers. I can’t thank readers enough for their readership and encouragement over the years. Your support via social media, reviews, notes, shares, likes, and other means makes it possible for me to continue to write stories that mean the world to me, and I don’t take that for granted!
About the Author
Annabeth Albert grew up sneaking romance novels under the bedcovers. Now, she devours all subgenres of romance out in the open—no flashlights required! When she’s not adding to her keeper shelf, she’s a multi-published Pacific Northwest romance writer. The #Hotshots series joins her many other critically acclaimed and fan-favorite LGBTQ romance series. To find out what she’s working on next and other fun extras, check out her website: www.annabethalbert.com or connect with Annabeth on Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, and Spotify. Also, be sure to sign up for her newsletter for free ficlets, bonus reads, and contests. The fan group Annabeth’s Angels on Facebook is also a great place for bonus content and exclusive contests.
Emotionally complex, sexy, and funny stories are her favorites both to read and to write. Annabeth loves finding happy endings for a variety of pairings and particularly loves uncovering unique main characters. In her personal life, she works a rewarding day job and wrangles two active children.
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Coming soon from Carina Press and Annabeth Albert
When two childhood sweethearts are reunited as adults, intense feelings resurface, but first they must battle old hurts and new dangers if they are to have a future together.
Read on for a sneak preview of Feel the Fire, the next book in Annabeth Albert’s Hotshots series.
Chapter One
“You want me to go where?” Luis paced the narrow length of his boss’s office, ignoring the visitor’s chair in front of where Rosalind sat. His pulse alternately revved and sputtered, struggling to keep up with the freaking live grenade Rosalind and the Forest Service had just lobbed into his life.
“Central Oregon. The Painter’s Ridge Airbase is there along with an interagency hotshot crew and, of course, a large forest service office. It’s a big operation.”
“I know what’s there.” Even now, he could picture exactly what was there—endless sky, big ranches, surprising number of cowboys, and Tucker. But not the Tucker of his memories. Chestnut hair. Gap between his teeth. Floppy hair over his ears. Penny in his sneakers. That boy was gone forever, replaced by a fully adult Tucker, who undoubtedly had a happy wife, happy life, maybe a half-dozen kids by now, all with Tucker’s damn smile. That boy—man—had roots as deep as a two-hundred-year-old fir in that area, and no way was Luis getting lucky by him having moved away or something.
“I had a feeling you might. You grew up near there, right?” She gave him an encouraging smile, sun glinting off her short gray hair. She was one of the few in the building with a window in her office. Usually he enjoyed visiting her and her collection of houseplants and stacks of forestry manuals, but not today.
“Something like that.” His voice was probably terser than Rosalind deserved, as they’d been good work friends before she’d taken this promotion, but damn, he was still reeling. “I grew up in Riverside mainly, but we spent some years up in Oregon when my dad was transferred there to manage a new bank branch. All my family’s back here in California now though,” he added in case she was under the mistaken impression that he was pining for the area. No, he’d gotten all the pining out of his system years ago and all that was left was a bitter, ashy taste and a major distrust of toothy grins and careful promises.
I promise to write.
I’ll wait for you. I’ll wait forever.
You’re the one. My one.
“Hmm.” Rosalind’s mouth twisted. “I’m not saying this assignment will be easy. Extended travel is never fun. And I’m sure your family will miss you. You’re not seeing anyone right now, are you?”
Ah. There it was. The real reason Luis was being shipped north. In a large office with several fire behavior specialists, he might well be the best, but he was also the only single guy, only one without kids. And that made him expendable. This wasn’t the first time the forest service had loaned him out to a region with great need—he’d spent a few weeks in northern California last year, and in Montana with the big national park fires the year before that. But fucking Oregon? That he wasn’t prepared for.
“If I say yes, will that get me out of this?” He gave her his best smile, but she simply sighed.
“Sorry. I know this is short notice. But you’ll get the travel per diem. If you’re frugal with food, that can be a nice little bonus for you, maybe?” Her dark eyes pleaded with him to understand and not make her day that much harder. And anywhere else in the country and he’d already be back at his desk, making arrangements. But this was Oregon and he was going to dig his heels in.
“I’m not worried about the money. But you’re saying this could be more than a couple of weeks. I’ve got...” He cast around for some good reason. His coworkers had softball games and kid day camps and family reunions this time of year, but he was rather low on excuses for himself. A hollow feeling bloomed in his chest as he tried to remind himself that he liked his life, liked his freedom from entanglements and encumbrances. After Mike, he hadn’t wanted anything to do with domestic bliss, not ever again. And sure, he had a social life, but nothing he could point to as a commitment. Those he stayed away from. “The cat and—”
“You took her with you to Mendocino. I remember.” Smiling, she shook a finger at him. He’d let her assume he was an indulgent pet parent instead of a guy stuck with someone else’s cat who was reluctant to pay sky-high pet-sitter fees. “We’ll make sure we find you a pet-friendly extended-stay place with a kitchenette. I know you like to make your own food. And assuming you want to drive it, I can arrange mileage too.”
“It’s thirteen hours, give or take.” He’d had that number memorized for decades now, dating back to when it had seemed to matter with life-and-death urgency, each mile an endless chasm between him and what he really wanted. But now it was simply a scar, a wound he’d rather not acknowledge, let alone reopen.
“Do it over two days,” she urged, apparently assuming that was him agreeing. “And come on, Luis, don’t look at me that way. I wouldn’t ask you if you weren’t seriously needed. They’ve been shorthanded all season thanks to this hiring freeze we’re all under, but now it’s reached crisis level there with a maternity leave, a stroke, and an abrupt move. They’re dealing with a much greater number than usual of spot fires.”
“Arson?” He didn’t want to be curious, but his neck prickled all the same.
“That’s the working theory. They don’t have anyone with your level of expertise right now. Their crews are overworked, and management is stretched thin. They need help getting through this peak of the fire season, and they need a specialist with your qualifications. So when an old friend called in a favor, I immediately thought of you.”
The single guy. But he only nodded. He could tell when something was a losing effort, and trying to get her to send someone else surely was. Just like he’d been well
and truly screwed at sixteen when his parents had moved back to California partway through his junior year.
They’re making me go.
I don’t have a choice.
I’m gonna miss you forever.
At least at thirty-five he was a touch less dramatic. He’d get through this. Somehow.
“You’re exactly what they need.”
Somehow, he doubted that. “Wasn’t that you last week complaining that I’m too headstrong and that I don’t take critique well?”
“Oh that.” Rosalind made a dismissive gesture. “I mean, you’re the best fire behavior specialist I know of. It’s why Mendocino asked for you last year. And it’s why I know you’re going to do excellent here. And I’m going to owe you. Seriously.”
“Yeah, you are.” He managed to keep his tone almost playful, not petulant, but it was a close thing. Her flattery wasn’t unnoticed either—she’d known the mention of arson would pique his professional interest, and he did have an excellent reputation in his specialty of identifying and predicting how a particular fire would react to given variables like wind, weather, and type of response available. He was used to working with various incident commands and interagency teams of wildfire fighters, and he tried his best to be adaptable and good with crisis situations. In short, he’d be perfect for this job. But, Oregon.
Rosalind leaned forward, expression kinder now that he’d agreed. “Isn’t there anyone up there you’d like to see again? Old friends?”
“Nope.” He had a vibrant social media life but not a single Oregonian on his contacts list, hadn’t for years now. Then, as Rosalind frowned because that was kind of harsh, he added, “I fell out of touch with my high school friends. I’ll be okay though. No warrants for my arrest up there or anything.”
High Heat Page 28
