Risk the Burn

by Marnee Blake

  Hunter and Dak had a mostly unspoken bond over shared dysfunctional sibling relationships. He hadn’t contacted his own brother, Will, since Will had purposely twisted the parachute that had nearly killed him. Will had spent a few months in jail, and then he’d been on probation and working with an outpatient mental health facility. Though Meg and their mother had spoken with Will, Hunter wasn’t ready yet.

  He might not ever be ready.

  He scanned the room. He didn’t see Charlie. She was late. Was she okay? Then again, he would have no idea if she’d canceled, if she’d texted Meg to tell her that she was running behind. He wasn’t privy to the details of her life.

  He wished he were, though.

  “Excuse me, everyone.” Lance tapped the side of his beer glass. The chatter in the room died, as the guests turned to face him. Hunter crossed his arms over his chest, grinning. Here it came. The big announcement. He skimmed the partygoers, wondering if any of them were suspecting the engagement announcement.

  That’s when Hunter saw her.

  She must have only arrived, because she was shrugging out of the light jacket she’d worn as she spoke with one of Meg’s other friends from Bend, Olivia. Charlie’s hair was pulled back with pins or something, the curls more tamed than usual. In jeans and some sort of ruffly, bohemian-style top, she struck that chord between cute and sexy.

  He had taken two steps toward her before he caught himself.

  “Thank you all for coming,” Lance said, drawing his attention. Hunter’s sister stood next to her boyfriend, and Lance wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her to his side. “Meg and I just moved in a couple of weeks ago, and we’re excited to start our life here in Bend together. We also wanted to wait until we had you all here to make this announcement.” He inhaled, and the smile on his face matched the beaming on his sister’s. “The night we moved in, I asked Meg to be my wife. I’m humbled to say that she agreed. We’ll be getting married in the fall.”

  The room erupted into cheers and happy shouts of congratulations. Hunter lifted his beer bottle, calling over the crowd, “To Meg and Lance. Cheers.”

  Around him, others did the same, repeating the toast. Across the room, he caught Lance’s attention, touching his eyebrow to his friend in salute. If someone had told him two years ago that he’d be so happy at the prospect of adding Lance Roberts to his family, he would have laughed. When he had returned to Oregon last spring, their hometown had still assumed Lance’s father had caused the death of Hunter and Meg’s father as well as his own.

  After everything they’d been through, Hunter couldn’t have been happier for him and Meg.

  As friends and family pressed forward to offer more personal congratulations, Hunter’s gaze found Charlie’s. Like every time that they’d made eye contact, something connected between them, something warm and welcome. He tilted his bottle toward her and she grinned, weaving through the outskirts of well-wishers.

  “Hey, you,” she offered. “Congratulations on the soon-to-be brother-in-law.”

  “Thanks.” Across the room, the couple in question beamed, hugging well-wishers. “They’re a good fit. Always have been.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Always?”

  “You think a guy doesn’t notice when his best friend is in love with his sister?” He winked at her. “I always suspected how Lance felt in high school. I wasn’t sure about Meg, though. And she’s my sister. That wasn’t something I could have asked her back then.” He shrugged. “It all figured itself out in the end.”

  “I’m excited for them,” Charlie said, her eyes on her friend. “She deserves this happiness.”

  Lance couldn’t agree more, but he couldn’t stop his flare of jealousy. Since training last year, Meg and Lance had built a relationship, one they would continue to grow into their marriage. They’d purchased a home, created a life.

  Him? He’d spent the past year recovering from grave injuries and waiting to finish rookie training, to pick up where his life had left off. And now that he was so close to the end, he couldn’t help wondering if all that effort had been worth it. In two weeks, he’d be a full-fledged smokejumper. That had been his dream since he was a child, and the desire to fulfill that goal had only become more intense over the past year, when he believed he wouldn’t be able to accomplish it.

  Now, though, on the cusp of attaining his objective, he was starting to question if this was all there was.

  “I was wondering if you were still coming,” he said softly. “Meg had told me you’d be here, but I thought maybe something came up.”

  “Surely you weren’t waiting for me, Hunter Buchanan?” Charlie teased, snagging a glass of champagne from a tray someone had brought from the kitchen.

  “I was.” He didn’t want to pretend. “I wanted to see you.”

  Her smile faded, and her features became troubled. “It’s good to see you, too, but I can’t—”

  “We can talk, right?” He needed a chance to talk with her, to catch up. He wanted to know what was going on with her more than anything.

  She paused, biting her lip. He waited. Ultimately, it was up to her. Either she wanted to know him, or she didn’t.

  “Yes,” she finally said. “Yes, we can.”

  He exhaled, overwhelmed with relief. “Great.” He glanced at Lance and Meg, still swarmed by people. “Why don’t we hang out on the patio for a little bit? It might be a while before we can say congrats to the happy couple.”

  She nodded. He offered her his hand and, after a moment’s hesitation, she slipped her fingers into his. Turning, he led them out the French doors.

  * * * *

  As the cool night air, a welcome respite from the heat inside, hit Charlie, it brought with it a rush of reality.

  Why had she allowed herself to come out here on the patio with Hunter?

  She could have made up an excuse. That she needed to stay with Olivia. That she had to talk to Meg right that minute. That she needed to go to the bathroom immediately.

  Instead, she’d given in to the temptation to be with him.

  She needed to be stronger when it came to Hunter Buchanan.

  After the gun advertisement earlier and her conversation with her attorney, it had taken her a long time to settle down. By the time she pulled it together and finished getting ready, it had been peak car service time and she’d needed to wait twenty minutes for her driver to show up. She hadn’t wanted to drive, though, because she’d expected that she’d be staying late and drinking.

  Or maybe she was too shaken up to drive.

  Either way, it had meant she had been late for the party. Then again, maybe walking into a get-together already in full swing was easier. Because if Meg got a good look at her face, she’d figure out in two seconds that something was wrong.

  Except Meg’s brother was probably as perceptive. Maybe more so. He seemed to notice things about her that she hid carefully.

  “How’s training going?” she asked, staring out at the yard, not wanting to make eye contact. She ducked away from the house, taking a seat on one of the deck chairs farthest from the light. Maybe if she could keep her face hidden, he wouldn’t see how upset she was.

  “It’s good.” He tucked a hand in his pocket, holding his beer bottle against his side in the other. “Top of my class, Meg said.”

  “That’s wonderful, Hunter.” Her genuine happiness for him pushed aside the anxiety she’d been carrying around since the gun advertisement had showed up in her home. “You’ve worked so hard. I’m so happy for you.”

  “Thank you.” He grinned. “I wouldn’t have been able to do it without you.”

  She turned her champagne flute in her hands, uncomfortable with the praise. “Leslie did the heavy lifting. I just helped at the end, to take the credit.” She shrugged, unable to meet his eyes.

  “No, not the rehab. I meant the jumps
. Thank you for going with me. You have no idea how much that helped me.”

  Except she did. She’d been able to see it on his face, first for the bungee jump and then for the parachute. “You’re welcome.”

  He sat down in the chair adjacent to her, placing his empty bottle on the table nearby. He folded his hands in front of him, staring at them. With a sigh, he added in a softer voice, almost as a confession, “I’m doing well, but it’s not exactly like I expected it would be.”

  Cocking her head, she didn’t bother to hide her surprise. “What do you mean? You told me that this was what had driven you the past year.” He might have alluded to how much it meant to him, but his sister had been more forthcoming. Meg had mentioned that getting to training this year had been the driving force behind his recovery. She said she’d never seen someone so hell-bent on proving that he could be the same again.

  “It was. I kept thinking that if I could finish training, that maybe it would undo everything that had happened last year. That I’d be able to put everything behind me, finally move on.” He folded his hands, leaning his elbows on his knees. “It hasn’t been like that, though.”

  His disappointment squeezed her chest. “No? What has it been like?”

  “It’s been a letdown.” His blue eyes found her and his grin was sad. She wanted to reach for his hand, to touch him, but that would be stupid. She wouldn’t want to stop at one touch. So she remained still, allowing him to go on. “I thought it would be the answer to everything. Now I’m just looking forward to a summer of waiting to jump out of an airplane and swing an ax or whatever.”

  “It’s important work, Hunter. Heroic work. You save lives and property. You save the forests. It’s important.” Did she need to convince him? If Hunter couldn’t see how much good smokejumpers did, she wasn’t sure there was any impressing him.

  “I know. It needs to be done. And I can do it, I’ve proved that already. I’m physically able to do it now, after all this time.” He shook his head. “I’m just not sure I want to.”

  She could only stare at him. She suspected that he’d never told that to anyone. Why? He had friends, family who loved him. Why hadn’t he told them he was questioning his decisions? And if he couldn’t tell them, why was he telling her?

  The answers to all of those questions were probably as dangerous as the questions themselves, so she attempted to deflect, leave them alone. “You know, maybe it’s that you built up an expectation. If you were using training as a carrot, something to motivate you to get better, then maybe you built it up in your head.”

  “Maybe.” He sighed.

  She should let it go. He wasn’t hers to worry about, to help. But she couldn’t. Because he mattered to her.

  She reached over and squeezed his forearm. “Hey, if you aren’t happy, it’s okay. Even if you decide that smokejumping isn’t the long-term job for you, that’s fine, too. Honestly, if it got you through the last year of pain and recovery, then it was worth it, no matter what it ends up being to your life.”

  He held her gaze and remained completely still. She was insanely aware of the contact where she touched him. He probably was, too.

  As the moment lengthened, she remembered their kiss, and her eyes strayed to his mouth. God, his lips. She’d tried to forget exactly how amazing it had been to kiss him. During the day, she’d been able to distract herself, but at night, she lay awake, wondering if he thought about her, too.

  “Charlie, please stop.”

  Her eyes lifted to his, her face heating. Except she didn’t find teasing there. If anything, the naked want on his features warmed the rest of her. Flexing, her fingers tightened into his arm for a moment before she released him. “I’m so sorry.”

  His gaze lifted to the stars and he leaned back, exhaling with a laugh. “What the hell are you sorry about? I only mean stop because I don’t think you actually want me to kiss you again. At least, your head doesn’t.”

  She swallowed, because he had it exactly right. Her logical mind said kissing Hunter Buchanan was a bad idea. The first kiss had been enough to keep her distracted and aching for the past few weeks. She’d told herself it wouldn’t happen again, that she needed to forget all about it. For his sake and hers. He didn’t deserve her messing with his emotions.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “God, Charlie. I’m not. I want you.” His eyes burned into hers, scorching her. “I’m not going to pretend I don’t. That kiss? I loved it. Every time I think about it, I want to do it again. Not only because of me, but because of the way you reacted. The way you breathed, the way you felt against me. The way you pulled me closer. I want that all again. But if I don’t ever get that again, I’m a big boy. I can definitely manage my own wants and desires.” His lips tilted. “Doesn’t mean I’ll stop wanting and desiring. But you don’t have to feel sorry about it. It’s a compliment.”

  She exhaled a breathy laugh. Everything he said should have made her uncomfortable. Instead, she burned. “Then, thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He leaned closer, rocking forward. “And, I think you want me, too.”

  She looked away quickly. Because she did. God, she did. “Hunter, I—”

  “I’m not saying that to put you on the spot or to try to change your mind. I’m saying it because I’m guessing that there’s something going on with you, something that’s stopping you. Which is completely your prerogative. You don’t talk about yourself and you’re keeping me away, even though I think you don’t want to. I might be wrong, but I think you’re hiding.” He offered her a sad smile. “But if you ever want to stop, you let me know, okay? Because I’d love to know you better.”

  She could only nod. What she wanted was to open up to him, to tell him about the advertisement she had received today. To tell him about Joshua.

  Could she trust him? In all of her relationships she’d made the mistake of falling too fast, trusting too soon. Each time, she’d been let down or used, culminating in what had happened in Chicago with Joshua, forcing her to run across the country to avoid him.

  She couldn’t afford to go through that again. She didn’t think her heart could take it.

  Suddenly, it was all too much. Beyond the sliding doors, her friend was still surrounded by people who were happy for her, all celebrating the bright future Meg and Lance would have.

  With a threatening message on her kitchen table at home and a man she couldn’t open up to beside her, that kind of happiness seemed completely out of her reach.

  “I think I’m going to get going.” She pulled her phone out of her handbag, opening a ride-hailing app. Damn it, another half an hour wait. She should have driven. She’d had one drink.

  “Sure.” He got to his feet. “Don’t request a car. I can drive you home.”

  She glanced up at him. “Don’t you want to stay? Be with Meg?”

  He offered her his hand. “I’m supposed to see them tomorrow, help them clean up. Besides, I knew about the engagement. I’ve congratulated them both already.”

  “Are you sure?” She didn’t want to put him out, but she couldn’t be here with everyone right now.

  “Absolutely. It’s been a long week. I’m tired, too.”

  She had no idea if he was actually ready to leave or if he was only saying that so he could drive her, but she didn’t feel like waiting for the car service. Standing, she collected her empty champagne glass. “Thanks. I’d appreciate that. I just need to say congratulations to Meg.”

  As Hunter’s hand found the small of her back, comfort spread through her, like it always did when he was around. She wanted to lean back into it, to let him be there for her.

  Instead, she straightened, her throat tight, and went in search of her friend.

  Chapter Eleven

  He’d been too straightforward with her.

  As Hunter drove the short distance to Charlie’s apartment
, he couldn’t figure out a way to break the silence. Instinctively, he guessed that anything less than complete honesty wouldn’t work with her. She was already as skittish as a cat.

  Except the truth hadn’t helped him either.

  Maybe there was no way to get through to her. If she wasn’t willing to take a chance on him, there wasn’t much he could do to convince her otherwise. Which sucked. But it was completely her call.

  When he pulled in front of the house where she had an apartment, he turned off the engine, opening his door.

  “Hunter, you don’t have to—”

  “Door-to-door service, my lady,” he said, trying to keep things light. She grinned back, but she looked as exhausted as he felt.

  She climbed out, and he followed her up the sidewalk.

  Except when she reached the stairs, she paused. “I know I locked that.”

  Stepping beside her, he noticed her door was ajar. “You’re sure?”

  “Yeah. After what happened today? Yes.” She bounded up the stairs, reaching for the doorknob when he stopped her.

  Wait. What happened today? What was she talking about?

  He reached for her arm, pulling her to a stop. “Absolutely not. You aren’t going in there. We’re calling the police. Are you sure no one else could be in there?” He resisted his desire to push her behind him even as he tugged her hand, drawing her away.

  Shaking her head, she swallowed. “No. No one else lives with me.”

  He pressed the unlock button on his SUV. “Into the car, then.” He didn’t watch her go, only stared at that door as if it were a snake that might strike. “Please.”

  As he backed away too, his heart thudded in his ears, his fingers tightening around his phone. But he didn’t look down to call the cops until he heard the door close on the TrailBlazer. Then, still backing away, he dialed 911. When they asked what his emergency was, he said, “We think there’s been a break-in.”