“Well, you’re not a kid anymore.”
“No, I’m not. What about you? Do you prefer Asher or Ace?”
“Everyone around here calls me Ace. It’s a nickname I can’t escape. I like it when you call me Asher. You’re the only one who does and that makes it special, like kind of our thing.”
Our thing?
There’s an us.
He just admitted it.
I’m not really sure what to say about that. I didn’t realize we had a thing, but I’m giving myself a mental fist bump. He’s been thinking about me, which means it’s not just me.
I point to his shirt. “I’m a little confused. Are you a firefighter or a wine maker?”
“Both, and a bit of a rancher, I guess. Although that makes me think of cattle and I don’t have those. I have a herd of plodding mares.”
“So you’re a fire fighting, cowboy, vintner?”
“I suppose so.” He shrugs. “How about a man of many talents?”
My brows pinch together because I’m not sure if he’s teasing me. “So, firefighter, wine-maker, and rancher? How does all that work?”
“Volunteer firefighter. It’s not my main job. The family business is the winery. I run it with my brothers, and we operate a trail riding business on the side. I have twenty mares who love walking the forest trails behind our vineyard, but only at their slow, plodding pace, which is perfect for the tourists.”
“How do you find time to do all of that and pull people from burning buildings?”
“I’m not that kind of firefighter. I’m on a helitack crew.”
“Hell-a-what? What’s that?”
“Helitack. We’re first responders to wildfires. That’s what I do. Forest fires, brush fires. Wildland fires are my specialty. I’m not one of those firemen with a pole, a shiny red truck, and a Dalmatian called Spot.”
“Explain helitack. I’ve never heard of that, and is ‘wildland’ a real word?”
“Yeah, it’s a real word, and a helitack crew are kind of like hotshots, everyone’s heard of those, but instead of parachuting into remote wilderness areas to put out forest fires, we rappel out of helicopters. Similar but different, and the focus is on forest fires not civilian fires. Does that make sense?”
“It sounds intense. I guess every profession has its specialists.”
“I suppose we do. One of my best friends is a firefighter. He’s the one who got me started in volunteering. You met his brother.”
“I did?”
“Yeah, Grayson’s the medivac pilot who brought you here.”
“Wow, a pilot and firefighter in one family. Their mom must be proud.”
“Yeah, Mrs. Malone is something special.” He gives a soft laugh. “Their older brother is a cop, so yeah. They’re a family of everyday heroes. I’m good friends with Grady. He’s the youngest and the firefighter. His brothers are a bit older. They’re good guys, solid, you know.”
“I bet your mom is proud of you.” I’m not as interested in his friends as I am in what makes Asher tick.
“I’m her favorite.” He gives a wink.
“You said you have brothers. Any sisters?”
“No sisters. Two brothers, both younger, and they’re a pain in my ass.” He places a strange emphasis on the word ‘younger’. “What about you?”
My stomach seizes with the question I should’ve seen coming. I deflect. I’m getting too damn good at it.
“I really can’t thank you enough for what you did for me. If you hadn’t—”
“But I did, so we don’t need to go into what might, or might not, have happened.”
“Fair enough.” I give him a soft smile. “Thanks.”
If he hadn’t found me, I would be dead and Prescott would be beside himself with the mess I would’ve left behind.
Shit. I need to give him a call. He and Gracie are probably worried sick I haven’t checked in.
“I’m glad you’re doing better.” He shifts a little closer and reaches for my hand, but then he draws back at the bandages.
Which sucks.
I want to see if that electric shock is still there, or if my oxygen-starved brain imagined that sizzling connection.
“I appreciate it.”
“And, I wanted to see if there was anything you needed? Anyone you need to call? A husband?” He pauses and watches the hitch in my breath.
“No husband.”
“Boyfriend?”
I’m careful with my words. “No, no boyfriend.” There’s no husband because my fiancé never made it to the alter.
“Good to know.”
“Why?”
“They said there’s nothing in your personal effects to identify you. I gave them your name, but I think you’re officially listed as a Jane Doe. You’re a bit of a mystery. Not sure how much help you want, but I can get a few things from your home. Since you’ve ridden me, I’m no longer a stranger, right?”
“Right.” It’s too easy to agree with him. No longer a stranger? “I’m not from around here.”
“Oh.” The corners of his mouth turn down. “Is there someone I can call?” He gives a long hard look at the hospital gown. “How about clothes? While you’re rocking the hot patient look, it might not be the best thing to wear around town when I take you out.” He’s trying to lighten the mood, but it only reminds me of everything I’ve lost.
“Actually…” I need to call Prescott, sort out my life, and pay for this hospitalization. I’ll need to buy new things. “I guess I need a little help.”
Everything I had burned in the wildfire. I’m a little worried about my revolver. California gun laws are strict and I may have been skirting the spirit of the law carrying it, loaded, on my person. It’s not in the bag of my stuff shoved in the cupboard, which means, it’s still up there.
Did that man take it? I’m a little worried about how to handle that. Of course, my phone is somewhere up there with the selfies I took. Unlike my gun, which can survive a forest fire, I’m pretty sure my phone is a melted mess.
Well, this is one way to cut all ties to my previous life, burn it all to ash. Except—there’s always an except—the whole heiress thing still needs to be dealt with.
“Can I borrow your phone?” I hate imposing on him, but he’s offering.
He stands and fishes it out of his pocket, then hands it to me after taking off the screen lock. When I hold it to my chest and stare at him, he clears his throat.
“Oh, um, I’ll just wait outside.”
“Thanks. I really appreciate it.”
After Asher leaves, I close my eyes and try to remember Prescott's number. Fortunately, it comes to me and I dial before the screen lock reactivates and I need to call Asher back in.
Prescott picks up on the first ring.
“Hey there.”
“Evie! What number is this? I don’t recognize it. We’ve been worried about you.”
“You have?” Prescott will never stop worrying about me.
“We heard there were fires in wine country.”
“Um, yeah.”
“Gracie was checking the news and saw reports about a major forest fire near Napa. Isn’t that where you’re hiking?”
More like ground zero.
“Um yeah, about that.” I don’t want to tell him all his fears turned out to be true, so I hedge.
“What about it?” His voice deepens. “How close were you?”
“It’s kind of a long story, and I need a little help.” It’s not like me to ask for help. Of course, he jumps all over it.
“Help? What kind of help?” He’s anxious, and overly eager.
All Prescott wants is to help his best friend’s only daughter get back on her feet. While I appreciate his enthusiasm, Prescott will never see me as anything but a little kid. He doesn’t understand I’m a grown-ass woman who can take care of herself.
Look what a great job I’m doing. A man attacked me, set fire to the forest, and left me for dead.
I deserve a
good chewing out, but I’m still running from my past and I’m in deep denial about pretty much everything. Too bad for me, I’m not the kind of person to lie.
It’s time to come clean.
“I was kind of in that fire.” I pull my shoulders to my ears, expecting him to blow up, but there’s only silence on the other end of the line. “Did you hear me?”
“Hang on, Evie.”
Deep sighs come from his end of the call and muffled voices which I barely make out.
Gracie is in some kind of hysterics. I guess she’s listening in. Prescott's trying to calm her down. He’s got the phone covered with his hand rather than placing it on mute like a sane person, but he’s old school like that.
“Prescott? Did you hear what I said?”
“I did.” Strain fills his voice and I can tell he’s holding back a choice string of expletives and unsolicited fatherly advice.
He’s not my father.
We both know this, even if he keeps trying to fill those shoes.
“I’m safe. I’m in a hospital.” I try to reassure him.
A hospital! Gracie’s shriek rings through the speakers. She’s in a hospital. Give me the phone. If you’re not going to talk some sense into that girl, then I will.
Calm down, Gracie. I’ll handle this.
His sharp tone makes me cringe. I’ve never heard him speak to Gracie that way.
“Where are you?”
I rattle off the name of the hospital. “But you don’t need to come, I just need—”
“I’m booking a plane now.”
He wants to help, and I’d love to let him, but I need my space. Prescott reminds me of everything I lost.
“I appreciate it. I really do, and I know you care about me, but I’m good. I just need…” Everything. “If you could just get my credit cards reissued. I’ll figure out my IDs.”
“Evie, I wish you’d let us help. You don’t have to go through this alone.”
But I am alone.
“I know, and I’m incredibly grateful for all your help.”
His sigh is deafening, full of all the things he wants to say, but won’t. Or can’t. He wants to tell me it’s not my fault. That there was nothing I could’ve done. That I shouldn’t feel guilty for surviving the unthinkable when everyone else died. I hear it in the deep pull of his breath, but we’ve had this conversation a hundred times and it doesn’t help.
“Fine. I’ll make the calls. Where do you want me to send them?”
Well, shit. I didn’t think that through. I can’t send them to the hospital.
“Hang on.” Unlike Prescott, I hit the mute button. “Asher?”
He pokes his head inside my room. “You called?” The way his eyes spark shouldn’t be legal, but they flicker and flash and steal my breath.
“I kind of need a favor.”
“Real-ly?” He drags out the syllables and saunters into my room. “Are you asking for help?”
“Are you going to make me beg?”
“Depends. What kind of begging are we talking about? Because something fun comes to mind.”
I want to smile, but I’m trying to be serious. His innuendoes are harmless enough, kind of, but what would he do if I bit and gave a little nibble?
“You’re smiling and I want to know why?”
“It’s nothing.” No way in hell am I telling him what I was thinking about nibbling.
“Didn’t look like nothing.” He crosses his arms and stares down at me.
The man is simply too much to take in. I’m back to thinking about climbing his body and going for that ride he promised, the one that may, or may not, involve rope, and most definitely doesn’t involve clothes.
“Well, it was.” It totally wasn’t, but I’m keeping Prescott on hold. “I need to send replacement copies of my credit cards, insurance cards, you know all the things which burned?”
“Yes?”
“And, I don’t have a place to send them to.” I’m very aware I barely know this man, but he did save my life, and he did take time away from wine and horses to visit me. I give a little nibble of my lower lip and look up at him. “So, what do you say? Wanna help a girl out? Pretty please?”
He said he wanted me to beg. I’m batting my lashes, nibbling on my lip, and staring up at him with what I hope is my best innocent, doe-eyed expression.
“Damn but you’re good at that.” He turns around and rubs his hand through his hair. “What’s it worth to you?”
“You want me to pay?” I’m not sure if I’m supposed to be offended or if we’re still playing a game. If we’re playing a game, I have no idea what the rules might be.
“With your time.” His attention shifts to my lips and I can’t help but press them together.
All that’s going through my head is how much I want his lips on mine and how they would feel running all over me. I bet he’d take his time.
If he kisses with the same intensity with which he stares, it will be exquisite torture. He looks up in the sudden silence filling the room which leaves me to wonder what is going through his head. Did he just fantasy kiss me?
“Um…”
“Relax.” His smile is true, genuine, and warm. “You’re not making this easy me on me.”
“Huh?”
“Come on, Evelyn, I’m asking you out on a date.”
“A date?” Damn, but all I can think about is how the scruff of his beard will feel between my thighs when he kisses me down there.
“Yeah, you know. Boy rescues girl. Boy asks girl on a date. Girl kisses boy.” He wiggles his eye brows. “Boy kisses girl back. You know, date stuff, fun stuff.”
Now I know we’re definitely on the same wavelength.
“That kind of date?” The smile on my face is huge. “The fun kind?”
“Those are the best kind. What do you say? Send your stuff to my house. When you get out of here, I’ll take you out.”
It’s an offer I can’t refuse, but am I ready to jump back into those waters? I honestly don’t know. If I’m going to jump, why not do it with this amazing man who makes the ache between my legs burn?
Only, I’m a chicken and dodge his blatant proposition.
“You know I’m not from around here.”
“Yeah. So?”
“So—I’ll be taking off.”
“Yeah, but I still want to take you out. I like you, and I’d like to get to know you better.” The way he says it speaks volumes and his eyes practically undress me.
“Get to know me better?”
“Yeah, it’s what people do when they go out on a date.”
“No strings?” If we get to know each other better there will come a time when I need to walk away.
“If that’s what you want. No strings. We have a little fun while you’re here, work out some of this energy between us and get to know each other. Have a little fun while we’re at it.”
“Fun?”
He arches a brow. “Yeah, fun, but I have questions.”
“Like what?”
“Like what’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this? What you’ll taste like when I kiss you. How you’ll feel wrapped around my hips. You know, important questions. As for strings, that depends on whether you’re interested in my rope work.”
No need to ask what he means by that. I’m seriously considering it.
Maybe this is what I need to put my past firmly behind me?
A little innocent fling?
Asher seems willing. Not that I’m erasing Justin’s memory, but it’s been over a year.
“Sounds intriguing.”
“So strings? Or no strings?”
“How about a little of both? A clean break at the end?”
Are we negotiating sex? I think we are and I give a sharp shake of my head. I’ve never done something like this before.
I unmute the phone. “Prescott?”
“Yes, Evie?”
“I’m going to give you to a friend and he’ll give you an address
to send everything to.”
“Okay. We’re not done talking about this.” Prescott isn’t amused, but he knows better than to push when I get like this.
“I know.” Not wanting to continue that conversation, I hand the phone to Asher, but pull it back and give him a hard stare. “This is an old family friend, behave!”
“Of course.” He takes the phone and puts it to his ear. “Hello?”
9
Evelyn
It’s another five days before the doctors are comfortable enough with my progress to release me. In that time period, I’ve pushed Prescott off from flying out to rescue me no less than twenty times. The number of times I’ve thought about kissing Asher numbers in the thousands.
I cannot get that man out of my head.
Prescott sent my new phone via courier direct to the hospital along with a wallet full of fresh credit cards, a duplicate driver’s license, and the insurance cards I’ll need to break free of this joint.
Asher gave Prescott his home address, but Prescott must have felt uncomfortable sending my things to a stranger. My promise to hold off on that trip to the high Sierras is the only thing keeping Prescott on the East Coast. He threatens to fuel up the jet and whisk me away, but can’t due to my continued hospitalization.
I’m not telling him they’re breaking me out today, and I blocked him from getting updates on my status from the hospital staff three days ago.
Boundaries are necessary, because he’ll steamroll right over my wishes under the guise of doing what’s best for me.
For me, that means not heading back to the place where memories drag me under. I can’t explain this feeling I have, but I’m lighter and happier here.
There’s something about wine country which is helping me move on from the tragedy. Those feelings may, or may not, have something to do with the man sitting at the foot of my bed.
Asher sits cross-legged and looks funny as shit, because he’s a big man and it’s a small bed. A rickety hospital tray table sits between us; a barrier I’m happy to have, because there’s nothing that ties me to the bed, the wall, or the IV poles any longer. I’m free to launch across the bed and claim the kiss I’ve been dreaming about every night and every day for the past two weeks. Instead, I stare at my cards, nibble my lower lip, and push my fantasies to the back of my mind.
Firestorm: An Everyday Heroes World Novel (The Everyday Heroes World) Page 8
