Page 227 of Her Reluctant Hero
Chapter Seven
The slurry hit him with the force of a speeding truck, knocking the air out of him, damn likely leaving bruises the size of baseballs on his back, but the air temperature dropped palpably as the fire in the immediate vicinity slowed, beaten back by the pink foam dropped from the airplane overhead. He rested his head on Peyton’s shoulder for a moment as realization sank in. The pilot had cut it damned close this time, but Gabe was in no mood to complain. He wouldn’t even question how Jen had known just where they were to direct the slurry.
He wasn’t going to die today. He’d beat the dragon again.
Joy sliced through him and he eased off Peyton, rolled her onto her back. He grinned at the puzzled surprise in her eyes. He wiped dirt and slurry off her face and kissed the question off her mouth.
She stiffened with surprise or protest—he didn’t have time to recognize it before she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him down to her, taking the heat of him into her.
Her mouth stretch into a smile beneath his. She released him and raised her hands above her head triumphantly. He drew back to hear her laugh, to watch her eyes shine up at him as she reached up to wipe slurry off of him.
“Pink is definitely your color,” she decided.
He laughed, throwing his head back to let the sound carry. “Yeah, I think I like it.”
He grinned down at her, his pulse slowing to a languid beat. How could a woman covered with soot, sweat and slurry be so beautiful? They had to take advantage of the reprieve to get out of here, but before they did, he needed to kiss her again.
Her expression told him that she knew his intentions and welcomed them. Her lips parted. A thrill of desire went through him and he kissed her.
He didn’t taste ash, didn’t taste sweat, only tasted hot, willing woman. Peyton. Pleasure curled through his blood, unfurling feelings he’d forgotten. They flared to life, more powerful for being dormant.
“Gabe!”
It took a moment for him to realize Peyton was not the one calling his name, which would have been difficult with his tongue in her mouth. He lifted his head, which Peyton protested with a whimper.
Through the smoke Gabe saw a group of firefighters striding toward them, clad in smokejumper gear. His elation evaporated and he sat up slowly, thoughts of Peyton pushed aside as he focused on the jumper in the lead, a man he recognized at this distance.
Jen had sent her new husband to bring her ex-husband home. Son of a bitch.
Gabe climbed to his feet, ignoring the aching muscles, the popping joints, as he brought himself face to face with his former best friend. He hadn’t spoken civilly to Doug since Jen announced she was in love with him and planned to marry him. The memory made bile rise in his throat, but he refused to drop his gaze.
“Doug.”
His fists clenched, his shoulders tightened. Last time he’d tensed up like this, he’d busted Doug’s nose. He swore, rolled his shoulders and reached down to help Peyton to her feet.
“You guys okay?” Doug asked.
How could the bastard be so civil? Oh, right. He had what he wanted.
“We’re just dandy. You didn’t have to jump out of a plane on our account.”
Beside him, Peyton brushed off her butt, an odd gesture since she was coated in filth, and reached out a hand to Doug. Gabe resisted the urge to slap her hand away. “I’m Peyton.”
Doug took her hand in a brief clasp, his own bandaged, but he didn’t wince when Peyton gripped him. “Doug. You’re both in good shape?”
“We wouldn’t be if the slurry hadn’t hit,” Peyton replied, her smile a little too friendly. What did women see in the man? He was balding and skinny, and he had to wear a bridge because he’d knocked out his front teeth in smokejumper school. Apparently women weren’t as shallow as rumor had it.
Doug grinned at Peyton and Gabe wanted to drag her behind him.
“Yeah, old Pedro nailed it, didn’t he? He’s been flying fires for longer than you’ve been alive.” He turned to Gabe. “We’ve got a route for you to get back to camp. I would’ve called for a chopper but you hate to fly.”
Gabe ground his teeth hard enough to pulverize his molars. Peyton glanced at him in surprise. How dare Doug expose his weakness to a stranger? He realized his reaction was adolescent, but he struggled to get past it.
“Yeah, well, we don’t need an escort. You and your crew can hold this line.”
Doug cocked his head like there was nothing wrong at all. “I got orders to bring you straight to Jen.”
“Well, you know what you can do with those,” Gabe muttered, backtracking to see if their packs were salvageable.
