Smolder (Firefighters of Montana Book 1)

by Tracy Solheim

  “It’s just—his job,” she whispered. “I don’t know how I’ll live with the risk day in and day out.”

  “Love is a risk. One of you could die in a car accident or get cancer. Are you going to avoid any kind of romantic commitment because you’re afraid of the risk?”

  Flabbergasted, Laurel stared up at Bryce. “When did you become the love philosopher?”

  He shrugged. “I guess I just live my life a little looser than you do. You should try it sometime.” Bryce reached down and tugged her off the sofa. “Come on. Walk me out. Audrianna wants to see herself on TMZ. Did you know she almost died in a fire today?” He winked at her.

  “Did you know I flew in a helicopter today?”

  Bryce laughed as he draped his arm over her shoulder and led her down the stairs to the barn. “See that? You’re loosening up already.”

  Laurel swallowed her laugh when she spied Sam standing at the bottom of the stairs. His hair was damp and his face was stoic. He had his hands shoved deep inside the pockets of his faded jeans. Laurel breathed a relieved sigh at the sight of him.

  Bryce squeezed her shoulders. “I believe this is where I cut out.” He kissed Laurel on the cheek with a little more affection than was necessary. “If you have to tie Tyson to the bed to keep him there, do it.”

  She rolled her eyes, less at his joke but more at his attempt to make Sam jealous.

  He took the last two steps and extended his hand to Sam. “Captain, I can’t thank you enough for what you did today. You’re certainly worthy of the hero worship Tyson bestows on you.”

  Laurel held her breath, but Sam didn’t hesitate to take Bryce’s hand. “I did what any other guy with my training would have done.”

  “Yeah, but you did it better. And I’m grateful you were around.” Bryce glanced over his shoulder at Laurel. “Don’t let her scare you off. She deserves a guy like you.” He clapped Sam on the shoulder and wandered out of the barn.

  The quiet settled around them as Sam’s amber gaze seemed to swallow her whole.

  “Vin?” she asked anxiously.

  Sam nodded. “He rolled his ankle and fell into a ravine. Miranda long lined him out. He’ll be good as new once his ankle heals.”

  Laurel collapsed down on the steps with a relieved sigh. “I’m so glad.”

  He leaned back against Tabitha’s stall. “Mm. So is Jacqui Edwards.”

  “Wow.” A surprised laugh escaped her lips. “I sensed they were close, but I didn’t see that coming.” She met Sam’s eyes and suddenly her chest felt lighter. If Jacqui Edwards was willing to risk her heart with another smokejumper, why couldn’t Laurel?

  Are you going to avoid any kind of romantic commitment because you’re afraid of the risk? Bryce’s words bounced around in her head. Take a chance, her rash alter-ego shouted.

  “Did you mean it when you said you loved me?” she whispered. She’d been on pins and needles all day wondering if he’d only said the words to placate her, when he wanted her to leave the fire.

  “I did.” He swallowed roughly. “I know we’ve both had relationships that didn’t turn out the way we wanted. And there’s the whole fear factor involved with my job. But we can make this work. You and me. Together. You just have to trust your impetuous nature. Because that impulsive Laurel is the woman I fell in love with.”

  Tears burned the back of her eyes and she couldn’t seem to catch her breath. Up until this moment, she hadn’t realized how desperately she wanted Sam to say those words.

  Sam spread his arms wide. “Come here.”

  She leapt into his embrace and his mouth fused with hers in a deep, drugging kiss.

  “I want this, Sam,” she said when they’d both come up for air. “Whatever this is, I want it with you. Forever.”

  “That’s good. Because after today, I’m pretty sure I can’t live without you or Tyson.”

  And then he was kissing her again and Laurel didn’t want him to stop. Ever. She threaded her hands into his hair and pulled him in closer. A moan escaped the back of her throat before Tabitha’s snort startled them apart.

  “Did my horse just tell us to get a room?” he asked with a laugh.

  Laurel linked her fingers with Sam’s and tugged him toward the stairs. “She’s very cheeky that horse of yours.”

  Sam smiled at the mare. “I’d say she’s just happy with her new home.” He turned his panty-melting grin toward Laurel. “We both are.” He followed her upstairs and proceeded to show her exactly how happy he was.

  Epilogue

  Four months later

  “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Ohio Expo Center. Home of the American Quarter Horse Congress,” a voice boomed over the loudspeaker.

  The butterflies were having a field day in Laurel’s stomach. “You’d think I’d never done this before.”

  Her mother laughed. She sat in her wheelchair just outside the temporary stall housing Tabitha at one end of the convention center. Horse people and fans streamed past her mother wishing her well.

  Jo Keenan had been the biggest human interest story of the two week competition. No one expected her mother to return to the western reining world’s biggest stage, but she had. And in the preliminary rounds Laurel and Tabitha had proven themselves the pair to beat.

  “You’re allowed to be keyed up. It’s been ten years since your last championship,” her mother said. “A lot has changed since then. Except for your capabilities. You’re a better rider today then you were then, even with a decade off. It’s truly amazing.”

  A lot had changed, Laurel thought to herself as she sprayed show sheen on Tabitha’s haunches. She glanced at the diamond ring on her left hand. Sam had slid it on her finger last night, joking that she needed a little more bling to go with the rhinestones in her competition shirt. And then he’d made love to her slowly and reverently, promising to worship her forever if she’d agree to marry him. Laurel blushed just thinking about how her body reacted to his, even after all these weeks.

  She and Sam had survived the fire season. Sam had also helped her survive an even worse period—Tyson’s two week vacation with Bryce and Audrianna. As for Tyson, he’d survived matriculating from Ivy’s kindergarten class to first grade. He was quickly figuring out that having two sets of loving parents, while not the norm, definitely had its advantages and he happily accepted Audrianna and Sam into his life.

  Laurel had passed the CPA exam on the first try, surprising even herself. Unfortunately, however, Rusty didn’t make her the chief accountant. Not that Laurel was actually disappointed because it turned out Rusty would rather be a patron for Laurel’s artwork than have her oversee his books. He set up a gallery for her next to the mint farm’s gift shop and Laurel was making a name for herself in the region.

  She patted Tabitha’s neck affectionately. A lot had definitely changed. Suddenly, Laurel had a life that was better than any she’d dreamt of as an impetuous teenager.

  “Mama!”

  Laurel turned toward the door of the makeshift stall. Tyson stood in the aisleway, his face obscured by his cowboy hat and a billowing stick of pink cotton candy. “Look what Grandpa bought me!”

  “Oh, Wayne, you’ll give the boy cavities,” her mother said as Tyson scrambled onto her lap.

  With a sheepish look on his face, her father slipped into the stall and began to bridle Tabitha. “It’s a special occasion. Besides, Sam said it was okay.”

  Laurel arched an eyebrow at her fiancé who was leaning a broad shoulder against the metal stall frame and looking sexy enough that she’d forgive him just about anything. She stretched up onto her toes and gave him a quick kiss, tasting cotton candy on his tongue.

  “Mm, it seems both my boys have a sweet tooth.” She reached for her hat and gently positioned it over hair that resembled plastic after her mother had applied a half can of Aqua Net to her head.

  Sam adjusted the brim. “Nah, we’re just both sweet on you.”

  Tabitha stomped a foot, impatient to leave th
e stall now that she was saddled.

  “I hear you girl,” her father said as he pulled the reins over the mare’s head and began to lead her out. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

  “Come on, Mama,” Tyson called from his grandmother’s lap as she wheeled her chair toward the ring. “It’s almost your turn.”

  Laurel went to step out of the stall, but Sam blocked her path with his arm. “Wait,” he said softly. He bent down to peer beneath her hat. “Thank you for doing this. This was important to Becky.” Sam paused to clear his throat. “I failed her in so many ways, but I didn’t want to fail her in this. I don’t expect you to understand, but I wanted you to know that I love you for helping me see this through.”

  She reached up and brushed her fingers along his jaw, loving the feel of his skin beneath her fingertips. “You’re a silly man, Captain Cowboy. Without Tabitha, I wouldn’t have found you.”

  He wrapped his hand around hers and brought her fingers to his lips. “You’ll always have me, Laurel.”

  “I hope so,” she said around the lump that had formed in her throat. “Because I have some really big plans for you tonight after I win this thing.”

  Sam pulled her in for a kiss that was a hungry promise for the future. Their future.

  “I told you they’d be kissing again, Grandpa!” Tyson tugged at her belt. “Come on, Mama. We haven’t got all day.”

  She exchanged smiles with Sam. “Actually, Tyson, we have a whole lifetime. But right now we have a world title to win.”

  Laurel grabbed each of their hands and headed off to the ring to do just that.

  The End

  The Firefighters of Montana

  Book 1: Smolder by Tracy Solheim

  Book 2: Scorch by Dani Collins

  Buy Now!

  Book 3: Ignite by Nicole Helm

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  Book 4: Heat by Karen Foley

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  Book 5: Flame by Victoria Purman

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  Enjoy an exclusive excerpt from Book 2 in the Firefighters of Montana series…

  Scorch

  Copyright © 2016 Dani Collins

  Jacqui Edwards read for most of the flight, but as her ears began to pop and her seatmate leaned into the window, she tried to see around the older woman’s curly hair to the view.

  A dusting of snow covered the valley, cut here and there by the lines of roads. Any ice that had formed along the margins of Flathead Lake through winter was gone. April sunlight bounced in sparkles off the rippling water.

  The plane banked and, a second later, there were the Rockies. They jutted like sooty fists of triumph, gray and white against an intense blue sky.

  Home.

  The word, the feeling, washed over Jacqui with such force, tears bit her eyes and her heart began to pound.

  She had expected emotion. Coming back to empty her dream home of its dreams was bound to be seven levels of hell. There would be tears, fresh ones on top of the countless ones she’d shed since she’d left. She had braced herself for the agony.

  This wasn’t pain. It was relief.

  She was home.

  She sniffed and wiped at the tickle on her cheek.

  The woman at the window turned with a concerned smile and offered a tissue.

  Jacqui was so used to crying—in public, in front of strangers, whenever the tears arrived—she only murmured, “Thank you.” Grief was exhausting enough without fighting it out of embarrassment.

  These were not tears of grief, though. Russ was always there as a heavy, solid absence crushing her heart, but in Florida her entire life had been empty. She had grieved and grieved and grieved the utter emptiness of her existence. No husband, no baby, no job, no home. Not even her freaking dog.

  Her father and stepsister wanted to help her rebuild. They loved her and, behind her curtain of pain, she loved them back. Maybe she didn’t have any real hope that she could find a fulfilling life on the other side of the country, but she trusted them to walk her through the steps toward one.

  In this minute, however, in this breath, she saw the foundation for that rebuild. It wasn’t in Florida. It was here.

  Montana was where her childhood memories resided. Where her mother’s gravestone was planted to watch over the receding glaciers. Where her husband’s ashes were scattered among the forests he had tried to protect.

  Montana was home.

  She was home.

  *

  As Vincent Kingston watched travelers come off the plane and walk straight into the arms of loved ones, he felt the way he always did—like an observer. He had vague memories of his parents hugging him, but after they died, he’d mostly found physical affection with women, his latest being his soon-to-be-ex-wife. He wasn’t feeling very affectionate toward her these days and thus all women were being held at arm’s length.

  Hugs were not welcome.

  He scanned through the bodies beginning to crowd the luggage carousel.

  Jac was short. It was no surprise he couldn’t see her. He thought he did for a sec, but that was a kid with short hair. He scanned for the two snakes of her braids—

  She stepped in front of him and his heart took a bound the way it did when he shoved himself out of a plane.

  “It is you.”

  She was even skinnier than she had looked on the tablet all winter and was drowning in an oversized, mustard-colored sweater. Her cheeks were hollow, her chin sharp, her warm, brown eyes wet with emotion. She had her hair cut to something like Peter Pan’s, which made her look even more fragile, tugging at his tough knot of a heart.

  But she was smiling that big smile he hadn’t seen since last summer and said, “Oh, Vin!” She threw herself at him.

  She was light, wispy as smoke, but she hit him like a mallet in the middle of his chest, winding him. He held her carefully. She was like a fine-boned fairy, smelling like magic yet her wiry arms were surprisingly strong, hugging him with a firm grip she kept around his neck a long time.

  He hugged her back, enveloped in a desire to shield her from all the hurt she was facing by coming back here. The words I miss him, too, formed on his tongue, but he hesitated. He wasn’t someone who expressed much emotion. Hell, he might make himself cry if he said something. He sure as hell didn’t want that. His chest ached enough as it was, just holding her, but he found comfort in the embrace. The yawning emptiness hanging like a mist in front of his future became less gloomy.

  He caught the eye of an older woman with curly, dark hair. She was smiling at them.

  This isn’t want you think, he wanted to protest. This was his best friend’s wife. He and Jac were friends. That was all.

  If he happened to be aware of her small breasts flattened against his chest, or her soft hair against his jaw, that was just his starved libido whimpering on its chain. He ignored the signals and set her on her feet before his twitching wood became obvious.

  Jac was totally off-limits.

  *

  Jacqui felt her feet touch the floor and the emotion charging her grounded out, but she was still shaken. That had felt weirdly good. Her father was paunchy, so hugging him was pure comfort, but Vin was built the way Russ had been. He was vital and strong and pure man. Hugging him had felt like a lover’s embrace.

  He smelled different from her husband, though, beneath the fragrance of snow and pine that clung to his clothes. Which was stirring in its own way. Recognizable, yet exotic.

  She hadn’t felt so much as a hint of sexuality since—

  Okay, she wasn’t going there. This was all just really overwhelming. Arriving home to have all her hard-made decisions wobble was taking a toll.

  “Hey,” Vin greeted lightly, and sent the back of one finger along her jawline, sweeping away a tear. He bent and shouldered the carry-on bag she’d dropped when she’d thrown herself at him. “Your luggage is blue, right?”

  “Yeah. Shar put a pink and yellow ribbon on it. I kept telling her this isn’t Denver, but she’s used
to big airports.”

  Jacqui was babbling as she tried to pull herself together. She couldn’t even explain the emotion that had overwhelmed her when she’d seen him. Homecoming times a million and completely unexpected. In the last months, she and Vin had connected regularly over Skype, mostly so she could see Muttley. Usually, they had talked about incidental “how is your day” stuff. He was working on the house in his spare time so he gave her updates, showed her tile samples and paint chips. Sometimes they talked about more personal things. He always made her laugh at least once. She almost always cried at least once.

  Vin took it all in stride, never ruffled beyond his black, spiky hair. His brows were steady, straight lines over blue eyes that never missed a thing. His nose was a reliable bridge, his jaw strong and shadowed with a hint of stubble, his mouth… She had never looked at his mouth up close like this. His upper lip was a line of masculine perfection, deep at the corners, the sexy peaks accentuated by his stubble, his lower lip not quite as wide, but a little fuller.

  The weird little catch of sexual attraction pulled at her again.

  Vin was good-looking. Of course, she had always been aware of that; she wasn’t blind. But she had never been so struck by how hot he was.

  Get a grip, Jac.

  Wiping at her cheeks, she said, “Thank you for coming to get me. I know I could have asked…” She shrugged. There were a dozen friends and in-laws she could have asked. “But I knew you’d be easier to be with. You don’t care if I cry.”

  He brought his gaze back from scanning the carousel. His brows went down and he tucked in his chin, admonishing. “I care.”

  “I mean you let me cry. Dad and Sharlene don’t know what to do with me when I’m like this. I’m really not looking forward to…” Talking. Seeing everyone. All the hugging and explaining and processing. She sighed and looked around, dreading bumping into someone they knew.

  “It feels strange to see you in person.” He commented with a faint smile. “You’re not much taller than when you’re sitting on the coffee table. And what the hell is this?” He chucked his chin at her hair.