Page 3 of Birchwood Burn
My shout is weak, I try again.
“I’m over here!” I want to cry, as I can’t scream well. My throat is dry and hoarse from all the coughing. The excitement has me going through another fit.
“Say something else!”
I scan where I might hear the man’s shout coming from. “Over here! I’m here!” A heavy cough breaks through. I’m afraid to move.I have to stay put. If I move, my hero might lose me.
Heavy pounding of feet against the ground has my heart jackhammering against my chest. I continue to cough.
“Stay put. I can hear you. I’m coming.” The demands have me excited and ready to launch into the arms approaching me.
The coughing fit continues, and it has me doubled over as I kneel on the ground.
“Shit.” The man curses, and I glance up at him. The most handsome guy I’ve ever seen is running toward me with worry on his face. He’s built like a house, with broad shoulders and a bulky chest. Bogged down by equipment that must weigh a ton, he acts like it's nothing.
He runs in slow motion with the smoke working around him like fog. Action stars have nothing on this guy.
I cough and shake my head. Great. Now I’m delusional.
“Here, drink this.” He pulls a water bottle from a pack, and I guzzle it down. My throat stings and then feels cool as the liquid soothes its scratchy surface.
“Thank you. Thank you for finding me.” I want to cry. I truly believed I wouldn’t be rescued. Let alone from the centerfold ofevery fireman calendar model in the world. He needs to be their spokesperson.
THREE
JACE
The irritationat having to search for this woman is still strong in me. It doesn’t matter how gorgeous and perfect she is; it, in fact, pisses me off more.What the hell was she thinking, going for a hike during a fucking wildfire?I get the fire was not over the entire mountain, and they were far from it, but look how quickly it spread.
Fires do that; they’re not predictable or reasonable. They have a mind of their own, and they don’t care who is in their way.
Her throat has to be shredded, and I try to coax her to slow down her drinking. Who knows how long it’s been since she had anything to drink? The heat also guarantees that she is sweating out whatever she has inside of her. Her lips are chapped and peeling. She’s pale, with a flush layering over it from the heat, which is worrying me even more. I want to get her out of here now. She has heavy bags under her eyes from lack of sleep and stress, and yet she’s still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.
I dig through my bag and pull out a portable oxygen canister and place it over her mouth, trying to get as much relief for herlungs as possible. The coughing and wheezing sound she makes isn’t good, and I can’t imagine what the continued inhalation of this wildfire is doing to her lungs.
“Take deep inhales.” I hold it over her mouth and line up my mask to my face and follow suit. The smoke is getting thicker, and we need to get moving. I pull the mask from my face and reach for the radio on my shoulder and click the button to open the line. “Jace here. I got the girl.” I give off my estimated location.
“Standby.” The helicopter pilot, Coop, radioed over. He’s going to scout out our location and give me directions to head to.
Larissa’s enormous eyes watch me, and gratitude oozes from them, along with something else. Something I’m afraid to identify because I wonder if I wouldn’t be able to let her go. That’s how strong this pull to her is.
All of this is insane. This is what my sister, Gina, writes about in her romance books. Or at least I think it is. She writes sex scenes, and I’m sorry, but I’m not reading that. Not written by her, at least, but I wanted to understand the book world she’s in. We’ve discussed her work, and apparently, there’s a thing called Instalove. What the fuck is that supposed to be? But readers go ape-shit crazy over it. And what I’m experiencing right now is a lot of what’s described in those books.
I feel a need to know everything about her, and it’s building in intensity. The more I’m around her, the stronger it’s getting, overtaking common sense. Not once in my thirty-eight years have I ever been so drawn to somebody, but here I am, and I don’t know what to make of it.
She talks with the mask over her mouth, and I can barely make out what she’s saying, but I’m gathering it’s more thank yous.
“Save those up, Trouble. We’re not out of the woods yet.”
She tips her head at my nickname for her. But it suits her. She is trouble. Trouble for the situation we’re now in. Trouble for being so damn gorgeous. And trouble for making me feel things I don’t want to be feeling. I’ve been single for the past decade for a reason, and I don’t want things to change now.
I rub her back as she coughs some more, and my arm is electric from the jolts pulsating off her and up my arm.
At least, I don’t think I want things to change.
The thwop, thwop, thwop of the helicopter blades comes through the sounds of the fire.
Larissa drops the mask. “Well, thank you for coming to find me. I truly believed I was alone out here. You need to stop the fire, not find some stupid tourist who weakened at her friend’s suggestion for a hike.” She rolled her eyes before closing them and putting the mask back on her face.
