Some Like It Hot: Christian romantic suspense (Summer of the Burning Sky Book 3)

by Susan May Warren

  “Makes it hard to sleep.” He glanced at her, a little spark in his eyes.

  But her mouth reacted before she caught on to his flirt. “Oh, I don’t sleep, but it’s not because of the midnight sun.”

  No, no—what was her problem? She wanted to yank back the words as soon as she said them.

  His mouth tightened, another tiny frown crossed his face, and he turned back to the sunset. But he said nothing.

  His leg was strong and warm next to hers as she leaned back on her hands. She let the silence move between them, the sun warm her skin.

  Until, “Are you okay, Larke?”

  She looked at him, her breath caught, defenses rising, but he wore such a concerned look… Maybe…

  She blamed the texture of his soft voice for the truth. “I… In the bar you just reminded me of someone. And when you said war wounds…”

  “You lost someone.” He said it without question, as if he just knew. And wasn’t afraid of it.

  She nodded.

  He turned back to the sunset. “Today is the third anniversary of my dad’s death in Afghanistan.”

  She stilled. Couldn’t take her eyes off him. He said it quietly, without emotion, just a hard swallow after his words giving him away. “So, I get it.”

  Huh.

  Then he met her eyes.

  A heartbeat passed between them, and in it her lips parted.

  He leaned over and kissed her.

  His lips were gentle against hers, tasted of salty beer and campfire smoke with just enough tenderness that she wanted to cry. Because her heart simply reached out for it, waking, longing, needing.

  Thirsty for the touch.

  She found her hand on his chest, her mouth moving beneath his, opening to let him explore, suddenly, oddly unafraid.

  He smelled of the sunshine on his skin, and she couldn’t help but touch that tempting beard.

  A small groan escaped from deep in his chest, and suddenly he pulled away. Swallowed. Met her eyes.

  She didn’t look away, letting him see her. Because maybe she’d found a guy who wouldn’t flinch, who wouldn’t run if he saw—

  Oh. What was she doing?

  She knew this type of man. Live hard, play hard. Run into danger and leave a woman with her heart in shreds. And sure, she knew she was playing with fire, knew from the very first glimpse of Riley that he’d be a guy who liked a relationship hot, intense, and over fast.

  Had even told herself that’s all she wanted, too.

  Except…well, maybe she wore panic on her face because a smile slid up one side of his breathtakingly, devastatingly handsome face. “Larke. Take a breath. We can just sit out here and watch the sunset if you want.”

  Oh.

  Uh.

  He lay back in the grass and reached for her, pulling her down into the cradle of his embrace. And he was so warm and solid and accepting of whatever he’d seen in her eyes, she just might cry. Again.

  Some easy one-night stand she’d turned out to be. Talk about bad choices. Poor Riley.

  “Tell me about him,” Riley said quietly. “The someone that you lost.”

  She put her hand on his chest, where his heart beat, and found it strong, solid.

  “His name was Freeman. He was a PJ. A Pararescue trooper. Special Ops, medic. He’d bring us the injured SEALs and Rangers and other quiet warriors, and we…well, it was war, and frankly, in the middle of the chaos, with him I felt safe.”

  Riley had his hand in her hair, running his fingers through her knots, gently untangling them.

  “I was stationed at Bagram, and one night we were attacked. I was outside the fence, working on a specialist who’d been injured, when a rocket lit up my escape. I was trapped outside the fence, the soldier dead on the ground beside me, when suddenly, Freeman came running right through the fire to me. I can still see the look on his face—fury, determination.” She swallowed, turned onto her back, and watched the sun turn the dark clouds to striations of orange, crimson, Denali falling to black. Beside her, Riley said nothing, just the rise and fall of his chest.

  “A bullet took him down about five steps from me. And he still dragged himself over to me, landed on top of me, and protected me with his body.” She closed her eyes, and a tear pooled in her ear. “He died like that, his body covering mine.”

  Riley wove his fingers through hers, and she pulled his hand to her chest.

  “I’m such a fun date,” she said, giving a terrible laugh.

  He turned and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Yeah, well, I’m a jerk because up until a few minutes ago, I thought maybe I could capitalize on all those tears.”

  She laughed, but he looked over at her, not smiling.

  Oh.

  But then he grinned and winked and oh, she liked him. Too much.

  “When did you get back from Afghanistan?”

  “A year ago. Dad needed help with the ranch, and my brothers are all still in the service, so it’s just me. I help him run the bush plane service and am the mobile medic for the area.”

  “Mobile medic?”

  “Yeah, for the homesteaders who can’t—or don’t want to—come in for medical treatment. Midwifery, first aid, that sort of thing.”

  “So I guess I shouldn’t have played tough guy with the shoulder.”

  “Nope.”

  “It’s really injured. I need lots of TLC.”

  She laughed.

  “So how many brothers do I need to watch out for?”

  “Three. Triplets. And all in different branches of the military—Navy, Army, Air Force. It’s always a competition with them.”

  “I was going to join the Marines before my dad died. Became a hotshot instead.”

  She leaned up on one elbow. He still wore the ice pack, and she lifted it off. “Why didn’t you join up?”

  She was probing his shoulder, felt the softness in between the joints, the swelling. Yeah, this could easily become a dislocation if he stressed it.

  “Because I’m not him,” Riley said. “He was brave and smart and steady. Always followed the rules. And I’m not that guy. I’m not a hero.”

  “Whatever.” She shook her head, grinning at him.

  He grinned back, his brown eyes sweet, just enough heat in them to stir desire back through her.

  “So why did you join the smokejumpers? It’s so dangerous. Aren’t you afraid of burning to death?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “We have fire shelters. They’re not exactly safe—people still die—but they give you a chance when the fire is on top of you.”

  “A fire shelter?”

  “It’s like a tent, only with pockets—you put your hands and feet in the pockets and hold it down to the ground, make a little well for your face and bury it into the soil, breathing the clean air. The rest of the air is toxic, so—I’ve never actually had to deploy my shelter, and I hope I never do.”

  He looked away from her, his face twisting. Oh, she knew exactly how to spoil a mood.

  “Actually, I had never thought about being a firefighter—it was my buddy Thad’s idea. He had worked as a hotshot in Yellowstone for a couple summers and decided he wanted to be a jumper. We both tried out—I made it.”

  “And he…”

  “Went back to Chicago. Got into trouble.” He took a breath and looked away from her.

  And she didn’t want to ask what kind of trouble, but—

  “He died about three months ago, drunk driving accident.”

  Oh, Riley. “I’m so sorry.”

  He swallowed, met her eyes. “See, I’m a fun date, too.”

  She traced her fingers across his lips. And couldn’t stop herself from leaning down to kiss him, this time sinking into his touch, letting herself relish his arms around her, the quiet sanctity of his embrace. He pulled her tight against himself and returned the kiss, deep, savoring, as if he also needed her, just a little.

  And it came to her that, at least right now, she might be able to turn the page. To put Freeman in t
he past. At least long enough to enjoy the sunset in Riley’s arms.

  He groaned, something deep and affirming, a hum of banked desire and…um. Okay. Brakes. Especially because desire stirred inside her, too.

  But no, she couldn’t.

  Her heart thundered as she rolled away from him.

  He said nothing for a long time. Then, finally, “I’m getting a few mixed signals here, so I’m going to err on the side of No. Just so we’re clear, you’re in charge, Larke. But in case you’re wondering, this doesn’t need to be anything more than right now.”

  Of course. She’d expected that.

  “Or it could be, Larke. I don’t have to be the guy you wanted in the bar.”

  She caught her breath.

  “I’m just saying that I don’t just put out fires. I can start them. And keep them going…”

  She closed her eyes.

  “Or I can be just a friend, if that’s what you need.”

  She took his hand, pulled it close, wound her fingers through his. The sky had turned a deeper shade of blood red, the clouds deeply bruised, purple and black.

  “No, Riley, I don’t think you can. But right now. This. It’s enough.” At least until the dawn broke as she had to face another sunrise.

  Because tomorrow he’d be right back in the fire.

  And she couldn’t love another man who wasn’t afraid to run into danger.

  Two

  “McCord—get up. We have a start.”

  The words jerked Riley out of the semidarkness caused by the shades at the windows, and he emitted a groan as he opened his eyes to spot Tucker in the lighted crack between door and frame of his room. “There were a few bets that we should look for you down at Larke’s place…apparently you’ve lost your game.”

  Tucker ducked away from the flying boot Riley scooped off the floor. It hit the wall beside the frame.

  “And your aim. Listen—Jed took off last night, and I’ve been promoted to Jump Boss. I’m headed up to the lodge for a sit-rep. Get your backside in gear. I need you.”

  He shut the door as Riley leaned up and groaned. Rotated his shoulder and gulped away the fire that shot down his arm, through his core. Okay, a couple ibuprofen and he’d be golden.

  Really.

  Probably it was a good thing that Larke hadn’t woken up to seeing him bite back a little pain-control breathing.

  I’m not a hero.

  Whatever.

  Yeah, that had gone right to his heart, and he’d meant his words. I can be just a friend, if that’s what you need. At least, at the time.

  And for the next couple hours as he’d watched the sky turn from golden to burnished, as Larke, surprisingly, fell asleep in his arms beside him.

  He’d wanted to pick her up, to carry her inside her cabin, but not only would his shoulder have given out, but he intended to mean his words. And with the midnight sun turning her blonde hair into white gold, her eyes so sweetly closed, as if she might be dreaming, yeah, he sort of didn’t trust himself.

  Or his crazy emotions. She’d curled up next to him, her hand right over his heart, and shoot, the rush of strange emotions had him a little off-balance.

  He didn’t do relationships or commitment or anything that had to do with slowing down to consider the man he’d once wanted to be. That would mean letting his father catch up to tell him all the ways he’d failed.

  Which meant he’d just had a hiccup last night with Larke. Let her in a little further than he’d intended.

  That was then.

  This was today. And today he had a fire. Something to focus on, dig into, fill the hollow place.

  Maybe it would also burn off the residue of desire that lingered after he’d left her on her cabin doorstep, kissed her sweetly, her face in his calloused hands, still trying to be the good guy, and hiked back to his lonely, quiet room.

  He was out before his head hit the pillow, but the memory of her warmth against him still lingered. The sense that maybe…

  No.

  I don’t just put out fires. I can start them. And keep them going…

  Whatever.

  Sometimes he couldn’t believe the words that came out of his own mouth.

  He pulled on his green Nomex pants, a moisture-wicking, flame-resistant T-shirt, and his yellow shirt-jacket. All clean, thanks to the Sky King laundry room.

  A fresh start to a new day, a new fire, another escape into a world where hard work kept him from thinking.

  He needed to restock his PG pack, get more MREs, check the batteries for his flashlight, nab a couple more protein bars, instant coffee, first aid gear, GPS, and his blue necessaries bag with fresh socks, another shirt, underclothes, and toothpaste. He’d also add a red bag stuffed with his sleeping bag, a compact camp stove, and a tiny, one-man tent.

  Everything he needed to live on the line for at least a couple days, if not longer.

  But he might perish without coffee first. Riley grabbed his travel mug and headed outside.

  The fresh, piney air, the drape of sunshine against a rippled, indigo lake, and sparkling diamonds in the dewy grass caught him up, filled his lungs. He couldn’t help but cast a quick look toward the cabin beneath the ridge.

  I can be more…

  He should just forget about her, because chances were that the team was headed back into the bush to fight another blaze. And if not, they would be heading back to Montana soon enough.

  No, Riley, I don’t think you can.

  Larke was most definitely right. Probably saved them both from a very awkward morning.

  Riley followed the path up to the lodge and headed inside.

  Romeo sat at the long island counter drinking coffee while Tucker and Barry Kingston leaned over a map spread out on a table in the middle of the kitchen. A great-room window overlooked a cloud-covered Denali, blue sky beyond hinting at a glorious day.

  He could live in Alaska. A man could escape, disappear from his life, hide forever in this vast state.

  A massive, two-story river rock fireplace stretched to the peaked roof, and over the mantle hung a picture of the Kingston clan. Riley glanced at it briefly and spied the three brothers Larke had mentioned. She stood in the middle of them, her blonde hair down, and he shooed away the memory of it twining between his fingers, soft and silky.

  Riley filled his mug with coffee, capped it, and came over to stand beside Tucker. The man wore a red bandanna over his dark brown hair, his sunglasses backward on his head as leaned over the map.

  Tucker acknowledged him with a nod. He was on the line with a guy from the Bureau of Land Management, his phone on speaker in the middle of the table. From the looks of the map and the markers attached to it, the fire was about eight clicks north in Denali Park country, a fly-in-only zone.

  He’d caught the tail end of the man’s words—ten acres, no tankers available, they needed to get in, knock it down, or at least slow it. Might need a reinforcement team.

  Riley glanced at Tucker. Of course Jed would pick him to lead in his absence. Because Tucker did everything right. Followed the rules. Was The Guy People Counted On.

  The man Riley should have been, if it’d been up to his dad.

  The voice came over the phone after a pause. “Just checking, but are you guys okay to deploy? I know you just came off a fire—”

  “We’re good,” Tucker said. “As soon as Barry gets the plane fueled, we’ll get loaded up.”

  Riley raised an eyebrow. But yeah, he’d rather be in the fight, injured, than on the sidelines watching.

  The BLM guy hung up and Tucker stayed quiet, reading the map.

  “We need to get our chutes repacked,” Riley said. They still hung in the big ranch barn, next to a dozer and a sizable 5th wheel, after being checked over yesterday. And they’d better get to it because it would take hours to get them repacked.

  Seth and the two Zulies wandered in.

  “We could use the extras from the BLM team,” Tucker said, glancing up at him.

 
; The Alaskan team used rectangle ram-air canopies, self-deploying instead of automatically pulled by the static line from the plane. Sure, they offered more controlled steering, especially in the winds off Denali, but the landings were harder, faster. He could handle it, but they had rookies—

  “Those are squares. Not rounds,” Riley said.

  Tucker seemed not to hear him. Instead, “There’s a Boy Scout camp at the base of that mountain, about three miles from the blaze. And we’re just down the road another five clicks.”

  Whatever. But, “I’m in, Tuck. But you’ll need to babysit the rookies.”

  Tucker glanced over his shoulder at the crew. “We did at least five jumps on rams before coming up here.”

  “Yep,” Riley said. “At least five.” And he might have continued, but right then Larke chose to walk into the room.

  He spied her out of the corner of his eye, her blonde hair almost white in the pale light of the morning, pulled back into a cute ponytail. She wore yoga pants and a T-shirt that read Take to the Sky King, and all he could think was…

  I could be more.

  Breathe. Full stop. Smile, shrug, and walk away. “I gotta pack my PG bag,” he said to Tucker.

  Larke was getting coffee as he walked out, and he couldn’t look at her. For her safety as much as his. Because he’d do something stupid like walk up to her, pull her into his arms. Shoot, the way he was feeling right now, he might even lean down and kiss her, right in front of his team and…yeah. He was doing a superb job of leaving last night behind.

  Riley escaped to his cabin and packed his bag.

  By the time he returned, the team was assembling in front of the lodge. Tucker took roll and gave them the rundown on the fire. “It’s about eight miles north of here, about ten acres so far, but growing. There’s a wind coming off Denali that could cause us some trouble, but I’ve mapped out a strategy with the BLM, and we can definitely shut this fire down. One more thing—we’re using squares.”

  Riley glanced around, looking for reactions, but even Skye just nodded.

  Okay, then.

  “Wheels up in ten,” Tucker said and dismissed them to assemble the gear.

  Larke had disappeared.