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Fired Up (3)

Author: Nuzel
last update Last Updated: 2024-12-09 03:49:00

Cole slammed out of the radio tower at base camp. Lightning forked down from the night sky, lighting up a nearby ridge. The next bright slash temporarily blinded him, but that didn’t matter. His dumb ass could stare at the fireworks display as much as it wanted, because he knew the path to Sam Clayton’s RV blindfolded.

His team commander’s RV was parked where it always was. The lights were off, but at least the camper wasn’t rocking. Sam’s fiancée wouldn’t appreciate a meet and greet in the middle of banging Sam’s brains out, and Cole needed Sam in a good mood.

An amenable Sam would make this easier.

He pounded on the door, jiggling the latch while he counted off the seconds. One Mississippi. Two Mississippi. And . . . fuck politeness. The handle opened easily, because no one bothered locking up in base camp. Shoving the door open, he put his head in. Sam liked to stick to a schedule, so the giant mound beneath the covers on the bed was likely him.

“Rise and shine,” he said, knocking
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    The watchtower at Widow’s Peak was a decades-old cabin perched on stilts thirty feet up in the air. It took ninety steps to reach the trapdoor in the catwalk floor from the ground, her calves burning all the way. If that wasn’t enough, reaching the place at all took a ten-hour drive up the fire roads from Big Bear Lake, followed by a brutal hike in by pack trail. Her piece of the park for the summer came with a big dose of welcome peace and quiet, plus million-dollar views. Hannah got up each morning to a panoramic, ringside seat looking out over mountains and forests, and a hundred-plus miles of pure visibility.Unfortunately, running water was limited.Her bathing choices were stream, pond, or go dirty. The pond was already choking up with algae as the water levels dropped further with each passing day, so Hannah headed for the stream. After losing her radio—and Cole, a little voice in her head said—falling asleep had been hard. She’d have to decide if she was hiking out tomorrow to

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    Holy. Shit.The man lounging on her steps was one hell of a welcoming committee. As her brain pinwheeled frantically, trying to process his presence, her libido registered his body—his large, well-muscled, hard body. He had to be well over six feet tall, and she drank in every inch, starting with the T- shirt pulled tight over his chest and then moving down over his Nomex-clad thighs. Given the way he was sprawled, there was no missing his package. He sure had one hell of a welcome for her.Handsome, laughing eyes examined her from an even better-looking face, his skin sun-bronzed from hours outdoors. Dark hair brushed against his jaw in thick waves, but stubble roughed his jaw from at least a day on the trail. His watchful attitude screamed former soldier, but that hair was pure bad boy. No standard military issue there. He flashed her a wicked hint of a dimple as he winked, confirming her rule-breaker impression, and he’d have laugh lines before he was forty from the smile lighting

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    She stared at him, wishing the answers to the questions she didn’t knowhow to ask were written on his face. Had he come here just to drop off a radio—or had he come here for her? And if she was the real reason for his pit stop, how did she feel about that?“You want to check the place out, be my guest. I won’t leave you down here where the bears can get you. Come on up. Do what you need to do.” She gestured for him to go first, though, because damned if he needed to know what she was—or was not—wearing beneath her towel. Having his hands and his eyes all over her second-best bra was embarrassing enough.“Sure, sha.” Rising gracefully to his feet, he swung himself up the ladder and started climbing hand over hand.The man certainly had a spectacular ass. She gave him a head start, hanging back some, because taking an inadvertent boot to the eye was painful and the view from here was fantastic. The muscles in that toned ass flexed beneath the Nomex with each step he conquered.When he

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    He was hot. She hadn’t a date in months. And he didn’t feel like a stranger. “I’ll buy you dinner,” she decided.“You’re feedin’ me?”“Sure.” She grinned at him. “If you eat veggie burgers.”She gave him credit. He didn’t flinch. “Sounds good.”The cooking part of things went surprisingly well. She played chef while he manned the coals. They chatted while she got things going, but the conversation remained in neutral territory. He didn’t mention seeing her in her skivvies or their late-night calls. Instead, he caught her up on the park news, describing a couple of recent calls. She didn’t have much to contribute. She loved sitting in the watchtower, loved the peace and quiet of it all, but those calm days didn’t make for exciting storytelling. What was she supposed to say? I saw a bear yesterday? Or, hey, I called in that smoke you spent ten hours busting your ass to knock down—glad I could help?Honestly, she wasn’t sure what she’d expected—maybe for him to pounce or make some kind o

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    “The fantasies we swapped over the radio—were those kind of a bucket list, or were you just makin’ stuff up?” His eyes caught and held hers.She felt like a deer who’d been cornered by a large and hungry predator, despite the ridiculously long lashes shielding his dark eyes.Outside it got dark and then darker, the stars popping out into the night sky. The crickets sang up a storm and an owl called, swooping in for a midnight snack. She had to figure out something to do with Cole Henry and fast.“I . . .” She opened her mouth. Closed it. The problem was, she had wanted to experience the fantasies she’d shared with him. Sort of. What she hadn’t expected, however, was this man sitting beside her, watching her.“I’m not expectin’ you to do anything,” he said. “I came up here because you needed a new radio. We could leave it at that. But—” He shrugged casually, although there was nothing casual about his big body. “If you wanted . . .”“If I wanted, then what?” She flicked on her flashlig

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    Morning brought one more fire.Smoke curled up from a nearby canyon. The small puff of smoke wasalmost cheerful, more Santa Claus working his pipe or cotton balls than anything ominous. Looks were deceptive.“Fresh.” She was talking to herself and she probably should have been concerned. Instead, she followed the smoke up, then examined the origin. “No haze yet.”The way that smoke went straight up with no telltale drift up canyon meant the fire hadn’t been burning for long. She’d watch for a few and see what happened. Sometimes, after a lightning storm like the ones that had struck Widow’s Peak the other night, you got little sleeper fires. This might be a few flames inside an old tree and it might burn itself out quickly.Twenty minutes later, the column was twice as wide and growing. Her gut screamed this fire was going to be a bitch. And it was close, only four or five miles from Widow’s Peak. The smoke drifted over the ridge and hung low over the trees on the edge of the clearin

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