Beautiful Burn (Maddox Brothers #4)

by Jamie McGuire

  “Stay,” I blurted out.

  “Here?” Tyler said, pointing down at the island.

  “Can you?”

  “I mean … I guess I could. It’s my day off, anyway. Chief owes me.”

  “It doesn’t have to be like last time.”

  He made a face. “I know. I’m not a complete asshat.”

  “So you’ll stay?” I felt so weak, so vulnerable, but that was preferable to being alone.

  “Yeah. I mean, I can if you want me to. On one condition, though.”

  I studied him, unsure what he was going to require.

  “What if we tried another breakfast?” he asked. “Tomorrow morning.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s it?”

  “That’s all.”

  “I’m assuming you don’t want me to attend hungover this time?”

  He chuckled, but he seemed preoccupied. “I don’t know. I kind of liked holding your hair.”

  “I bet you did,” I teased. I looked over at him, not a trace of humor in my expression. “Full disclosure … I’m pretty sure this is a terrible idea.”

  “Yeah,” Tyler said, looking down. “You’ve mentioned that. I know you’re trying to get your shit together, and I’m probably a risky friend to have during a transition … but, I don’t know, Ellie. I just like being around you.”

  “Why? I’m mean to you.”

  He grinned. “Exactly.”

  I shook my head. “You’re weird.”

  “You’re sort of beautiful with dirt on your face.”

  I managed to use my remaining energy to breathe out a laugh. “I’m just going to say that’s a compliment and call it good, but I’m still going to take a shower.”

  “I’m next,” he said.

  I put my dirty plate in the sink, and then led Tyler upstairs, this time to my bedroom. He sat on the end of my bed while I undressed and turned the knob on the shower.

  “I was thinking,” he called from the other room. “I’m getting pretty sick of the bar scene. There are so many other things to do here. All my friends drink, though.”

  “Take it from me, that makes it difficult.”

  “Maybe we should form a club.”

  I stepped under the water, moaning as it washed over me. Hot showers in the middle of a national park with twenty other people were rare. Just because I didn’t complain didn’t mean I didn’t miss it. “Two people don’t make a club, Tyler.”

  “Who cares?” he said, poking his head through the door. He faced the wall but spoke loud so I could hear. “We can do what we want.”

  “A no drinking club? That sounds like the lamest thing ever.”

  “Any club I’m in is fucking awesome.”

  “If you say so.”

  “So … breakfast?” he asked, a new spark of hope in his eyes.

  I sighed. “I would be really, really bad for you.”

  “Nah,” he said, waving me away. “Anyway, I’m a big boy. I can handle it.”

  “I don’t need you to save me. I’ve got this.”

  “Any other excuses?”

  My eyebrows pulled together. “You’re sort of a dick when you’re not in the woods.”

  “Rinse off already. It’s my turn.”

  I wrung out my hair and pulled the towel off the rack, stepping out onto the mat. From the corner of my eye, I could see Tyler pulling his shirt over his head. He pulled his belt from the loops, and the buckle clanged against the tile before his jeans hit the floor. He walked across the room and opened the shower, stepping in under the water.

  “Christ, this feels good,” he said.

  I smiled, pulling a brush through my wet hair. I watched his reflection in the mirror lather the soap over his skin, and felt a familiar tingling between my thighs.

  “What if this gets ugly?” I asked. “What if you hate me when it’s over?”

  “Not gonna happen.”

  “It did with Sterling.”

  “I’m not going to make you trip balls, and then have sex with you.”

  “So … friends?” I asked.

  The water cut off, and Tyler stepped out, wrapping a towel around his waist. His Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed, and then he cleared his throat like he was about to make a promise he didn’t want to keep. “Friends.”

  “Will you still stay?” I asked.

  Tyler managed a small smile, the thoughts swirling behind his eyes clouding his irises. “I wasn’t going to try to sleep with you, anyway, Ellie.”

  “No?”

  “No. It’s just different now.”

  I stood, stunned, unable to form a response. Whatever the ache was in my chest, I was sure it was something similar to a broken heart.

  “C’mon,” he said, standing. “Let’s crash. I’m beat.”

  He followed me to the bed, but there was a difference in the air between us. Tyler seemed more relaxed, as if the question was gone, the pressure eliminated. With the towel still wrapped around him, he crawled into my bed, turning onto his side.

  I opened my dresser drawer and slipped on a pair of Calvins under my towel and then walked over to bathroom doorway, picking his T-shirt off the floor.

  “Just leave it, Ellie. I’m going to wear it home in the morning.”

  He watched me with confusion and then surprise when I slipped it over my head and padded over to the bed, climbing in next to him. He wrapped both arms around me, burying his nose in my hair, and sighed.

  “You’re half naked, wearing my shirt. This isn’t exactly fair.”

  I reached into my nightstand, and then turned to face him, staring into his eyes while I peeled open the package in my hand. “We can still be friends,” I said, reaching down, sliding my hand between the towel and his skin. He immediately hardened in my hand.

  “I don’t know how to do this,” Tyler breathed, leaning in to graze his lips across mine while I slipped the latex over his skin. “This in-between shit, Ellie. I don’t think I can. You’re either mine, or you’re not.”

  “I’m not anyone else’s.”

  He planted his mouth on mine, kissing me hard and deep.

  “We don’t have to fit into any special box,” I said. He pulled away, looking for more answers in my eyes. “It is what it is. Can’t we just do that?”

  Tyler slowly climbed on top of me, scanning my face for half a minute before leaning down to claim me with his mouth.

  I tugged on his towel until it slipped away, and it fell somewhere next to the bed.

  “You’re right,” he whispered. “This is a bad idea.” He swept the fabric of my Calvins aside, just enough for him to slide inside me.

  I took a deep breath and sighed. Tyler felt too good … too safe. I could see in his eyes that he was willing to try me like poison; even after the first taste, we were already wondering how excruciating the end would be.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Tyler seemed to be in an uncharacteristically cheerful mood, chomping on his pancakes and smiling at everyone who passed by our table at Winona’s, waving with his fork.

  I’d woken up in his arms, his nose pressed against my neck. Once he began to stir, I half expected our night together to end in this awkward walk of shame, not sweet kisses and cuddles while he schooled me on doing a load of laundry. He’d loved removing his shirt from my body to drop it in the machine. He’d taken a lot longer to do that than he had chucking in his pants, underwear, and socks.

  We’d barely gotten through the first cycle before he lifted me on top of the machine and settled between my legs, reminding me why I’d woken up so wonderfully sore.

  In spring fresh clothes, he’d held my hand out to the truck and opened the door for me at Winona’s. Now he was looking down at his nearly empty plate, grinning like a fool.

  “What’s funny?” I asked.

  He looked up at me, trying to subdue the smirk on his face and failing. “I wasn’t laughing.”

  “You’re smiling. Like, a lot.”

  “Is that
a bad thing?”

  “No. I was just wondering what you were think—”

  “You,” he said immediately. “The same thing I’ve been thinking about since the night we met.”

  I pressed my lips together, trying to keep them from curving upward. His good mood was contagious, making it easy to forget what Sterling had said on my front steps the night before, and the worry that he was right.

  Finley hadn’t called or texted in twenty-four hours. Maybe Sterling was right. Maybe she did know.

  Tyler’s phone chirped, and he held it to his ear. “Hey, dickhead,” he said. His expression changed as he listened, at first concentrating on whatever was being said. Then his eyebrows bounced once. He glanced up at me for half a second, and then looked down, blinking.

  “But he’s okay,” Tyler said, listening again. “He … he what? No they didn’t. Are you fucking serious? Wow … Yeah, no. I won’t. Who might come here? What kind of questions? About Trav? What do you mean? Oh. Oh, fuck. Do you think it’ll work? All right. Yeah. Yeah, I’ll tell Taylor. I said I’ll tell him. I get it. We’ll circle the wagons. Love you, too, Trent.”

  He put down the phone and shook his head.

  “Did you say Trav?”

  “Travis,” he said, deflated. “My baby brother.”

  “Everything all right?” I asked.

  “Uh … yeah. I think so,” he said, lost in thought. “He just got married.”

  “Really? That’s great, right?”

  “Yeah … Abby is … she’s amazing. He’s crazy in love with her. I’m just surprised. They’ve been split up.”

  “Oh. That’s um … that’s kind of weird.”

  “They’re like that. I guess there was a fire at the college where I graduated. It’s in my hometown.”

  “Anyone hurt?”

  “It was pretty bad. Broke out in a basement, and a lot of people were trapped.”

  “In a basement?”

  “Uh … that college is sort of known for underground floating fight rings.”

  “Underground what?”

  “It’s kind of like a betting ring. Two guys are set up to fight. No one knows where until an hour before. The coordinator calls the fighters, their guys call ten people, then they call five, on and on.”

  “Then what?”

  He shrugged. “Then they fight. People bet. It’s a shit ton of money.”

  “How do you know so much about it?”

  “I started it. Taylor and me with the coordinator, Adam.”

  The look in Tyler’s eyes when I’d bet on him at my house the first night we met now made sense. “So was Travis there?”

  Tyler’s expression fell, and he looked at me for several seconds before answering. “He eloped to Vegas.”

  “That’s good.”

  “Yeah,” Tyler said, rubbing the back of his neck. “More OJ?”

  “No, I’m good. We should probably head in.”

  Tyler paid the check, and then held my hand to the truck like it was the most natural thing in the world. When he dropped me off at the MountainEar, the air between us felt heavy and awkward. It was that should we or shouldn’t we kiss moment and what does it mean if we do?

  I reached for the handle.

  “Hang on a sec,” Tyler said, reaching for me. He slid his fingers between mine, and then lifted my hand to his lips.

  “Thanks for staying with me last night,” I said.

  “I’m glad I was there to run off your uninvited guest.”

  “Me, too.”

  He took my phone, tapping in numbers and then letters. “If he bothers you again,” Tyler said, the crease between his brows deepening. “Call me. But just … you know … call me, anyway.”

  I stepped out of the truck and waved to him as he pulled away. He bumped up the volume on his radio, and I could hear the bass thumping until he turned onto the highway toward the hotshot dorms.

  The door chimed as I walked in to the office. “Morning,” I said, waving to Jojo on my way to my desk.

  Not only was Wick’s door was closed, but a stunning bouquet of butter-yellow and vivid violet roses reached out from a simple glass vase. I circled my desk, crossing one arm across my waist, touching my lips with my fingers, trying not to let my entire face erupt into a smile. Flowers, romance, and theatrics were last on my list of things I wanted from Tyler, but I sat down, soaking in how absolutely giddy it made me.

  Jojo poked her head in the doorway. “Who are they from?”

  I leaned forward once more to confirm and lifted my hands, letting them hit my thighs. “I couldn’t find a card.”

  “No card? Do you have a guess?” she asked, sauntering into the room and planting her backside on the love seat. “Maybe the guy who just dropped you off?”

  I reached down to turn on my desktop, taking a few seconds to get the ridiculous expression off my face before sitting upright. “Maybe.”

  Jojo crossed her arms, looking quite smug. “I thought this might happen, with you spending so much time at the station. I just didn’t realize it would happen so soon.”

  “Nothing is happening. We’re friends.”

  “Clearly,” Jojo said with a smirk. “You look like you’ve lost weight. Did they feed you?”

  “Barely.”

  She stood. “I brought donuts to celebrate your first day back. They’re in the break room.”

  “You’re a saint, but I’ve already had breakfast. I’ll eat some for lunch.”

  “I have a lot to do today. Are you doing that write-up for me?”

  “As best I can. Remember, I’m not a writer. I’ll just write what I know, and you can turn it into a story.”

  “Yeah, yeah … I heard you the first time,” she said, disappearing around the corner.

  I opened a new document and stared at the blank page for a while before my gaze wandered to the bouquet. I’d been sent flowers before, mostly from my father, but thought had been put into this bouquet. The colors were straight from my room, the roses meaning more than just ‘thanks for last night.’ Maybe I was reading too far into it, but Tyler wasn’t one to make dishonest gestures.

  I shook it off, focusing on Jojo’s request. I recounted my first day, the basics like the names of the tools, what they looked like, and the crew’s funny nicknames. They all respected one another, but, in my opinion, looked up to Tyler. He settled arguments, led them on the mountain, and they respected the decisions he made when Jubal wasn’t around to make them. I talked about fuel breaks and mineral soil and vegetation. Packs, supplies, flight weight, and ten codes. I included my limited knowledge on slutter, fire towers, coordinates, and weather. Then I added stories like the one about the best helo pilot Tyler had ever worked with—an Aussie redhead named Holly who could back in her Huey and swing it around at the last minute to get them on the side of the mountain so they didn’t have to hike so far in—and the time Tyler ate a fat, juicy grub worm for two hundred dollars.

  Two hours had passed without me realizing, and Jojo knocked on the doorjamb before walking in. She moseyed across my office to her father’s door. She knocked on it twice and then took a step back.

  Wick walked out, his cheeks red and his eyes bright. Jojo stood next to my desk, crossing her arms.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  “Daddy and I have been in awe over your pictures, Ellie. You’ve sent us some amazing stuff. You went out in the field and camped in freezing temps with those heathens for nights on end. You were born for this.”

  “For what?”

  “To be a field photographer,” Wick said.

  “A what?” I asked, feeling uneasy.

  “Daddy is going to hire another assistant.”

  “What?” I said, panicking.

  Jojo touched my arm. “It’s okay. Your new job with the magazine will pay more.”

  “More?”

  Her eyes widened. “A lot more. Daddy wants this to be an ongoing feature for the magazine. He wants you to follow the Alpine Hotshots
through fire season.”

  “But if you hire someone else, then what?”

  Jojo rolled her eyes. “Who are we kidding? Daddy isn’t going to find anyone. I’ve been doing it for this long. I can wait until fire season is over. You have to do this, Ellie. It’s going to be amazing.”

  “I … don’t know what to say,” I said, both unsettled and flattered.

  “Say bye,” Wick said. “I want you back out there starting today. We’ll need a continuing story for next month. We’ve already cleared it with the superintendent. Pack your bags. You’ll be bunking at the Alpine’s dormitory until October.”

  “Oh, thank God,” I said, closing my eyes.

  I could practically hear Jojo smiling. She had no idea I was going to be kicked out of my parents’ home next month. I had barely saved enough for my cell phone bill, much less a deposit and first month’s rent, even on houses or apartments up to half an hour outside of town. Shadowing the hotshots until October gave me six to seven more months to figure out living arrangements. Even if I was sleeping in a truck or tent most of the time, it was preferable to moving into a shelter.

  “We knew you’d be happy! I told you she’d be happy, Daddy.”

  “Am I done?” Wick said.

  Jojo sighed. “You’re done. Go back to resting your feet on your desk.”

  I pulled out my phone and texted Tyler.

  Did you hear the news?

  Just now. I’m your official babysitter. Pretty pumped.

  Thanks for the flowers. They’re beautiful. ☺

  It took a while for Tyler to respond.

  I didn’t send you flowers. I can’t decide if I feel like a dick or if I want to kill whoever sent them.

  You didn’t send the flowers?

  No. There’s no card?

  No.

  I wanna know who sent them.

  Me, too.

  Not for the same reason.

  … which is?

  I’m having violent thoughts. All I can say.

  Quit.

  I have a bad temper in general. Sending my gf flowers is not a good idea.

  … I am not your gf.

  Yet. You’re not my gf yet.

  I set my phone to silent and put it in my drawer, shaking my head, a dozen conflicting emotions swirling in my head and heart, including curiosity about the flowers. Who else would send them but Tyler?