Feel the Fire (Hotshots)
Page 29
“Like you and Wyatt weren’t drinking every chance you got, even in high school.”
“Wyatt maybe,” he allowed, stretching, trying to do something with the tension that kept gathering in his lower back, just from being here.
“Oh, right. I forgot. You’re...like his guardian angel or something. Don’t you ever get tired, being his designated driver? Cleaning up his messes?”
“Nope,” he lied, far too easily. “He’s my best friend. It’s what friends do, take care of each other.”
“I don’t see him exactly returning the favor.” Jacob flicked some stray leaf off the railing, narrowly missing Linc.
“You wouldn’t know,” he said testily, reminding both of them that he and Wyatt had a long history that Jacob had nothing to do with. “That man’s done more for me than I can ever repay.”
Jacob made a scoffing noise. “Maybe so, but you wouldn’t know it from how he treats you sometimes. So, what’s the deal? Can’t believe Wyatt even told you about last night. He tell you to try to talk sense into me?”
“Fuck no.”
“Oh?” Jacob’s tone softened and he scooted closer.
Danger. Danger. All Linc’s proximity sensors pinged, brain squawking like a comm set when a fire wall shifted, coming straight at him. “I brought it up to make sure you were okay. That’s all. Thought maybe you’d need to hear that your folks will come around. Give them time.”
“Yeah.” Jacob’s sigh held a certain amount of wistfulness to it, which did something to Linc’s insides, made him want to be stupid and take his hand or something else ridiculous.
“And for the record, I’m sorry about that Tyler kid. He’s a fucking idiot, but you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Leaning forward, he rested a hand on Linc’s shoulder. “Totally and completely fine.”
“Good.” He didn’t make a move to stand, couldn’t, not with Jacob’s warm hand pressing him down, dangerous sparks shooting all down his torso.
“But maybe I should make myself scarce for a few days, let everyone calm the fuck down. You wouldn’t happen to know of somewhere with a spare bed now, would you?” His tone was light, but there was no mistaking his meaning.
“You’re not staying here.” Even if Wyatt wouldn’t flay him alive, that idea was all kinds of trouble.
“No beer. No place to crash. You’re no fun.”
“Nope.”
“I could be, though. Fun. The sort of fun you need. And you know it.” Jacob’s voice had all the brashness of nineteen to it, reckless confidence. “Don’t tell me you haven’t felt it, ever since I started helping you here. I’ve seen you looking at me.”
Fuck. All those danger warnings shrieked again as the car carrying his sanity went over the cliff. He worked with any number of good-looking guys, had played four years of high school sports, had been around locker rooms almost two decades at this point, and it was going to be Jacob who called him on sneaking looks? And the worst, the absolute worst, was that he wasn’t wrong. Linc had looked. And that Jacob noticed said he was either getting sloppy now that he’d hit thirty or that there was something about Jacob...
And fuck it all, there could not be something about Jacob. No way, no how.
“No idea what you’re talking about.” For the second time that day, he played dumb, knowing full well Jacob wasn’t going to buy it any more than his brother had.
“I get it. You’re not out yet. But I’ve heard enough of Wyatt’s stupid jokes when he thinks you guys are alone to know you probably swing my way, at least sometimes. And like I said, I’m not blind.”
The words to deny Jacob’s assumption rose in his throat, but wouldn’t leave his lips. Something about Jacob indeed. Linc could lie about this by omission or necessity to just about anyone else. But not Jacob. From the start of helping Linc, he’d earned Linc’s trust. And maybe his truthfulness too, because he simply couldn’t make the lie come.
“You’re not blind. It’s no one’s business but mine though.”
“Good.” Jacob drew the word out, sinful and seductive and more dangerous than fraying webbing on a jump rig. “I can keep a secret.”
If only. But no. His bones still remembered with breathtaking accuracy how it had felt, dangling above the earth that morning, little pieces of rope and webbing all that separated him and a broken neck. The view might have been nice, but the fall would have been deadly, save Wyatt’s intervention. Not unlike this moment here.
I’ve got you, buddy.
Stay away from my little brother.
“Doesn’t matter. You’re barking up the wrong tree. I’m not letting you stay here.”
“Why? You think I’m on the rebound from Tyler? Or you think I’ll out you? Or...” His voice hardened and his hand tightened on Linc’s shoulder. “It’s Wyatt, isn’t it? Did he threaten you?”
“No.” This time the lie came easy, both because he had to and because he didn’t like Jacob’s tone, like he was ready to go to war with Wyatt on his behalf. That sort of concern, an almost protectiveness, made him shift against the plastic bucket. He didn’t need anyone playing champion for him.
Jacob’s grip softened, massaging Linc’s neck with a touch that had him stifling a groan. His hands were strong, calloused from hard work and years in the gym and felt better than a hot shower after a long day in the field.
“He wouldn’t have to know. It could be just an itch we scratch this one time.”
“Ha.” Oh, to be nineteen and so damn sure of himself. And that right there was the other reason why Linc had to turn him down. There wouldn’t be any one time only for him, not the way Jacob pulled him in even when he knew full well he had to resist. Jacob, who apparently saw what hundreds of guys he’d worked with hadn’t. Jacob, who made him laugh even while hauling mountains of moldy magazines, a feat not many could manage.
But Jacob had all but said it himself—he was nursing a broken heart from Tyler, and Linc had no desire to chance everything just to be the rebound fuck the kid forgot in a month.
“Not happening.”
“Not tonight, maybe, but—”
“Not now, not ever. There’s plenty of fish your own age to fry. Go find one.” He forced himself to pull away from that delicious torment, to stand up because his body was that damn weak that another few minutes and he’d be making all sorts of stupid choices. Better to be firm now.
“Your loss.” The hurt in Jacob’s voice as he scampered off the railing pierced Linc like a dart, a sharp, swift pain he’d do anything to take away. Anything, that was, except the one thing Jacob seemed to want.
“I’m sure it is.” He wasn’t trying to be flip. He absolutely was sincere—both sure that he’d regret turning him down and sure that he was doing the right thing. Jacob was simply a risk he wasn’t ever going to be able to afford.
Copyright © 2020 by Annabeth Albert
Also available from Annabeth Albert
and Carina Press
High Heat
Annabeth Albert’s Hotshots series continues—the emotions and intensity of Chicago Fire with the raw, natural elements of Man vs. Wild.
Smoke jumping is Garrick Nelson’s life. Nothing, not severe injuries nor the brutal physical therapy that follows, is going to stop him from getting back with his crew. But when a lost dog shows up on his front porch, he can’t turn her away, and he can’t take care of her on his own. Thankfully, help comes in the form of his new sexy, dog-loving neighbor. As they work together, trying to re-home their little princess, Garrick can’t resist his growing attraction for the other man, even though he knows this guy isn’t the staying type.
Rain Fisher doesn’t take anything too seriously. He dances through life, one adventure at a time, never settling in one place for too long. When his hot, conveniently buff, neighbor shows up on his doorstep, dog in tow, Rain’s determined to not just save the ado
rable puppy, but her reluctant owner as well. He never expects their flirtation might tempt him into staying put once and for all...
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FEEL THE FIRE (book three)
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ISBN-13: 9781488057076
Feel the Fire
Copyright © 2020 by Annabeth Albert
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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