Page 261 of Her Reluctant Hero
Chapter Thirteen
What the hell? Peyton stared at the door for a moment, then, grateful she’d dressed, followed him out. He stood beside the truck, patting his pockets for the keys. She ignored the asphalt biting her bare feet as she grabbed his arm, twisted him toward her.
“Is this what you do? You open up to a woman and then push her away?”
“Yeah, what I do.” He tossed his pack in the back of the truck and turned to face her, hands on his hips.
“You think I didn’t know what I was saying. You think I don’t love you.” Surprise opened his expression, but she didn’t slow down. She couldn’t. “I wish to hell I didn’t, but I do. I know who you are and I love you anyway.”
His expression closed again, his eyes drilled into hers. “Just what every man wants to hear. ‘I don’t want to love you but I do.’”
Her mind reeling, she rocked back on her heels. “Surely you’re not ready to hear I want a happily ever after.”
“Maybe I am.” But it was said in defiance, pure Gabe contrariness.
She tucked her arms around herself, stepped away. “You have to understand how hard this is for me.”
“Jesus, Peyton.” He swiped his hand over his hair, the gesture she’d seen when he was at his wits’ end. “It’s not supposed to be easy.”
She blinked, needing to get it out in the open, something he didn’t like. Only when she understood his true feelings could she figure out what to do.
She already knew what she wanted. “Is this something you want?”
He stepped closer, catching her arm. His eyes cut to the open motel room door. “I don’t know what you think of me, but this is not what I do, sleeping with the women on my crew. I want something more now.”
“I know.” She saw the truth in his eyes. “That makes it harder.”
“Peyton.”
He took her face in both his hands, his expression a longing matching her own, then released her and stepped back. What was he thinking? What did he want from her?
What was she willing to give him?
“Get your shoes on. We have to get going.”
The Aerial Fire Depot, where the smokejumpers were based, was on the west end of the Missoula airport, long low white buildings with red roofs. Gabe’s gut clenched a moment as he remembered the time he’d spent here, before the inner ear problem had ended his jumping days.
Maybe no one from that time was left. His emotions were tumultuous enough. Peyton had had the foresight to call them last night, and arrange this ahead of time so they didn’t have to talk their way into camp. They were expected.
Peyton had ridden beside him in silence during the short trip. What was going through her mind? He couldn’t think about it now. Too many other things needed his attention, and they had a long trip ahead of them before he went back up the mountain.
He parked the truck and turned to her. “Got your reporter hat on?”
And then he saw the man who strode out of the barracks toward them. Ah, hell. Mike Gordon. He’d been an asshole as long as Gabe had known him, and time had not mellowed him.
At least Gabe could keep him occupied as Peyton scanned the depot.
“Gabe Cooper. Reduced to running a reporter around, huh?” When Peyton slid out on the passenger side, Gordon’s eyes widened, and he grinned. “Don’t blame you. You must be Peyton Michaels.”
He ignored Gabe and walked around to shake Peyton’s hands, his eyes everywhere but her face. Gabe tensed, but was unwilling to give Gordon ammunition.
“Thank you for seeing us,” Peyton said in a tone he hadn’t heard before, professional to the point of chilly. “I know with the Bounty fire you’re very busy.”
“Someone has to keep an eye on the place while the others are playing hero. Right, Cooper?”
Gabe didn’t answer, and Peyton didn’t react.
“What is it I can help you with?” Gordon asked her.
