Ignite (Firefighters of Montana Book 3) Read online

  “This still your perfect day?” he asked, unable to resist needling her.

  She gave him a narrow-eyed glare as though she’d interpreted his question as a challenge. “I guess I should’ve specified non-strenuous hike.”

  He chuckled. “I guess you should have. But you have to do the work to see the beauty.” He gestured to the overlook and she stepped toward it with him.

  It was a little wooden plank deck-like thing built into the side of the mountain. Stepping out on it allowed them to step out over the valley a little bit and see the falls more clearly.

  She stepped out, her fingers curling around the railing of the lookout. “Oh,” she breathed.

  He shouldn’t have worried she might find the view lacking—for a lot of reasons—but all of the nerves he hadn’t realized coiled into his gut evaporated. Because she was taking in the sight below with a wide-eyed intensity that made him want to stare at her rather than the falls.

  “It’s amazing,” she said, her voice low and reverent.

  It would be silly to tell her she was the only woman he’d ever brought here. It would be silly to explain to her she was the only woman he’d ever even thought of bringing here. Not just because it was her perfect day, though that had a lot to do with it, but because, for some reason, he wanted to get to know her, and he wanted her to know him.

  He was getting himself into a world of hurt. This could only end in hurt, and much like last year when the jump team had lost Russ, Ace found himself walking towards the hurt rather than away from it.

  “Was it worth the climb?” he asked, using the same reverent tone she had.

  Her blue eyes turned to his and her smile was breathtakingly beautiful. “I guess,” she said with an attempt at a shrug.

  “Bullshit,” he scoffed, not about to let her be coy about it. Not about this. He pointed out to the valley below, the craggy grey of rock, the faint green of the plants, the crystal clear lake that a rushing column of water was tumbling into. “Look at that and tell me what you really think.”

  She looked out over the falls, something in her face softening. He didn’t know why, but seeing the softness on her seemed like a big deal. She didn’t seem like the type who would tolerate it much. She wasn’t just tolerating it now, she was letting him see her softness. See the way she was. Odd how that felt like a gift.

  “It’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen. It was worth the hike up and it’ll be worth the hike down. It was even worth taking a chance on some stranger not tossing me off a cliff.” She looked over at him her, lips twisting into a smirk. “Happy?”

  “Yeah,” he said, meaning it all too much. He was indescribably happy she was pleased, and he didn’t know what on earth that said about him or them or this, but here he was. And he was happy, and he was enthralled and he was… So very screwed, likely.

  “Ready to eat?” he asked, shrugging the pack off his shoulders. He started pulling the food out and she helped get them situated in a place where they could sit on the ground and eat.

  They put it all together in a companionable silence he didn’t notice at first. He was used to silence, but he realized somewhere along the way as they chewed their sandwiches and looked out over the falls, he hadn’t been used to silences with other people. He hadn’t been used to enjoying a person’s company simply because they were there.

  “You have a lot of friends?” he asked, gripped by the need to get to know her better.

  She startled and glanced at him as though he’d asked her if she murdered people for fun. Then she looked down at her sandwich, seemingly uncomfortable. “Not really,” she said with a kind of odd look. “My brother’s girlfriend and my other brother’s wife are pretty much it. Believe it or not, I wasn’t very good at getting people to like me when I was younger. I’m kind of an ass.”

  “How so?” He didn’t remember anything about Lina from his days in Marietta but, then again, nothing about his experience or his crowd would have come near Lina McArthur.

  She shrugged, poking at her sandwich. “I was a know-it-all and I was too smart for my own good and I wanted everyone to know it. And I was so desperately trying to impress my father, I acted like him and he’s kind of a sanctimonious asshole.”

  “He wasn’t impressed by you?”

  “Not really.”

  “Why not?” He didn’t understand how a father could not be impressed by this successful force of nature in front of him.

  “I have two older brothers, and he was so busy praising the one and making a villain out of the other I think I just sort of didn’t exist to him. No matter how hard I tried. I wasn’t a boy, which makes no sense and is incredibly archaic, but it’s the only thing I can figure, because I was just as good at school as Carter, and I achieved just as many things. I skipped the fourth grade. I graduated with my bachelors in three years. I…” She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. “This is so not perfect day talk.”

  He nodded, though he didn’t get it. He’d assumed… Well, when he’d moved to Marietta the name McArthur had been used like a prayer. They were well known for being upstanding and important, and maybe not everyone loved them, but they’d seemed rather perfect to him.

  It was half of why he’d left—he hadn’t wanted Jess’s association with him to ruin any chance she had getting in good with her boyfriend’s family.

  So, it never occurred to him Lina McArthur might have been unhappy, that anyone could be unhappy in that childhood.

  He had the horrifying thought maybe Jess had been just as unhappy, maybe she had been treated poorly and ignored and…

  He opened his mouth to ask Lina about it, but that would give him away. He couldn’t do that. He could not give himself away because he could not let Jess know he was here. He could not…

  What was he doing talking about personal things? He knew better. Getting to know her past wasn’t an option…it traveled too closely to his. He needed to change the subject, and fast. “You skipped the fourth grade and graduated college in three years?”

  “I’m very bright and modest.”

  He laughed when she smiled, him being an idiot briefly forgotten by the easy way she made fun of herself.

  “What are you doing with an idiot like me then?”

  Her smile immediately died. “I told you last night you can’t be dumb and do what you do. I don’t like that joke. It isn’t funny. Everyone has their own talents.”

  He could tell he hit a nerve, but he didn’t understand it when it was about his intelligence levels. “Took me five years to graduate high school,” he replied, then had to try to not react outwardly at giving her that information. Because the reason it had taken five years was all the moving he’d done. If he really was the average son of a mechanic and cafeteria worker, then he certainly would’ve been able to graduate school in the allotted time.

  “My dad always got on my brother Cole because science wasn’t his strong suit. I hated when he did that. Cole was the best of us and Dad tried to beat it out of him.” She scowled, lost in some old world.

  They were both silent for a minute, as if realizing they were giving too much, being too honest.

  “Stop hogging the Cheetos,” she finally said, holding out her hand.

  Bless her diversion. He handed her a matchstick thin one that had been broken in half.

  She gave him a doleful look. “That’s certainly not enough.”

  “Then you have to fight me for the rest.”

  “Do you think I won’t?”

  “No, I’m hoping you do,” he replied with a flirtatious grin he didn’t feel at first. But the minute she narrowed her eyes, as if determining the best way to win against him, the smile immediately went genuine.

  She tried to press her mouth into a straight line, but it curved into a little smile he wanted to kiss right off of her. Kiss her until she was panting and desperate and ready to head home. He wanted to go back to her place and not mess around with this nonsense anymore.

  He did
n’t want to look at waterfalls. He wanted to look at her naked underneath him.

  Still looking at him, her cheeks flushed pink, she pressed her tongue to the corner of her mouth, in what did not seem to be a studied move. “What…what are you thinking about?”

  “I’m thinking about you naked,” he replied easily with a grin. “Still going to fight me for these Cheetos?”

  “I fight dirty,” she warned and his grin spread even wider.

  “I was hoping you’d say that.”

  And then, he pounced.

  Chapter Eight

  Lina had always known she’d been, well, not sheltered exactly, because no one had necessarily tried to keep her from understanding the world around her. She’d been the one to keep herself from things. Because she’d felt insecure or too McArthur. Because she’d felt better than people, or less than people, or too smart, or too…whatever. All sorts of things had kept her from ever acting in a rash fashion.

  Somehow, in the past twenty-four hours, she had gone from doing nothing to going into a bar to flirt with a guy, to bringing him back to her apartment, to making out on the top of a mountain.

  Ace had wrestled her to the ground and kissed her breathless and senseless until she thought he was going to start taking her clothes off right there. But he didn’t. Instead after a laughing, fun, all-too-exciting make-out session on the top of the mountain—the top of the mountain—he’d carefully set her to rights, and led them on the path back to the truck.

  The hike down was just as pretty as the hike up had been, except now her blood seemed to pump unevenly, everything about her a little itchy and far too hot, and though it was a warm, sunny day the heat had little to do with the sun.

  By the time they reached his truck, it was nearly three o’clock. She’d never spent six hours walking around nature with another person before. She never would’ve thought she would’ve enjoyed it as much a she did. The fact of the matter was, she hadn’t thought about the hospital or being a doctor or any of the things she usually thought about twenty-four-seven.

  Even though they had the little moment talking about her unhappy childhood, it had been kind of nice to talk about herself. She rarely talked about that stuff with people she knew because they’d been there and she didn’t want them to think…

  That was the thing, right there. She didn’t want them to think she was a whiny, ungrateful, little brat. She hadn’t wanted her father to think she was childish. She hadn’t wanted any of her family to perceive her as weak. She’d only ever wanted people to view her as the smart, capable Dr. McArthur.

  She wanted Ace to view her as anything but that.

  “So, you want to go out to dinner?”

  “Or…” Oh, she would regret offering this. No, she would regret not offering this. She’d regret going to a restaurant, or any other public place where they couldn’t… Well, whatever they were going to do. “Or you can come to my apartment and I could make us dinner.”

  “You cook?” he asked, sounding surprised as he took off the backpack and tossed it into the bed of the truck.

  “Of course I cook. It’s science.”

  He grinned. “Then let’s go back to your place.”

  Much like the drive to the falls trailhead, the drive back to her apartment happened in a kind of companionable silence. She liked that she could be quiet with him sometimes. She liked the easy way everything felt with him. She liked him. She knew he could still be Dean. Maybe it was insane to be suspicious, or maybe it was insane to not just straight out ask him again.

  But whoever this man was, she liked him. She wanted to keep him for herself. To continue to really live a life free of all her Marietta baggage.

  If he turned out to be Dean, well, then she would claim ignorance. And it wouldn’t matter. Either way, she got something out of it. A friend. Sex. A fun, irresponsible few days in the very sensible, very responsible life of Dr. Lina McArthur.

  When they reached her apartment complex, he parked in one of the guest parking spots and got out just as she did. Again, they walked up to her apartment in silence. While it was still companionable, there was a little element of…not necessarily nerves per se, but jitters. Anticipation. Something good but a little scary. Being she was the inexperienced one, she understood why she was a little bit scared, but she sensed there was a little timidity in him, too.

  She was probably losing it, because what did he have to be timid about? This gorgeous, experienced, fantastic man.

  She unlocked her door and stepped inside. “What kind of food do you like? I have some chicken I could make, or—” She had to stop talking when his mouth claimed hers, when his arms wrapped around her like he was desperate to be pressed to her. Like he was needy. Like he just had to kiss her and hold her and…

  No one had ever had to do either of those things when it came to her. She was surprised that even as his mouth fit to hers, as his hands stroked up and down her spine, she felt tears prick the back of her eyes. No one had ever needed her, desperately wanted her. No one. It dove into some empty place inside of her, filling her up with light, with something she wasn’t sure how to name.

  But this was too good to cry over. It was too exciting to let those emotions take over. So, instead, she kissed him and held him as tight as he was holding her. Because she needed and wanted him, too.

  “Let’s just order pizza.”

  She laughed against his mouth at the suggestion. “Okay. We can order pizza.”

  “Later,” he said, his voice low and rumbly like a groan as he walked her toward the dim hall that led to her bedroom.

  “Oh… Okay.”

  He paused for a minute, slowly meeting her gaze as though he was looking for some sign or some specific expression. She thought she probably looked dazed and shell-shocked.

  “Unless you absolutely have to have it now?”

  There was something she absolutely had to have now, and it was definitely not pizza. No, it was him. It was this thing between them. He couldn’t put it off anymore and she didn’t want to.

  She wanted him. She wanted to know what it would be like and she was going to experience this. She was going to give herself over to this man, because she liked him and enjoyed his company, and he made her feel like no one had ever made her feel.

  She placed her hand on his chest, letting her palm soak in the steady heat of him. “Pizza can wait. This can’t.”

  “Which one is your bedroom door?”

  “First on the left.”

  Before she could fully get the word ‘left’ out of her mouth, he was pushing her toward the door, then across the threshold and into her room. Though the curtains of the lone window were closed, sunlight gleamed behind the cheerful yellow drapes, making the room warm and glowing.

  Ace backed her up to the foot of the bed. She wasn’t sure what exactly to concentrate on. The way his arms banded around her body as though he was afraid she might escape if he didn’t hold on for dear life. The way his mouth seemed to know exactly how to take possession of hers so she never had to wonder what she was supposed to do. She never had to wonder where she should put her hands because his body somehow maneuvered them in a way that always made everything feel natural.

  Every drag of his fingertips across her skin was like a bite of cotton candy—light and airy and sweet and the minute it was gone, she wanted more. His mouth was the opposite, fiery and demanding. Somehow scorching without being painful. Whatever was going on inside of her bordered on pain, but it never quite got there. It was too wrapped up in a demanding pulse of pleasure.

  He tugged at the bottom of her shirt, until she finally got the hint that she would have to make some sort of space between them in order for him to be able to remove it completely. But she didn’t want to step away. She didn’t want to leave the demanding circle of his arms or the hot brand of his mouth.

  But he yanked the shirt up and off her head in one swift movement that caused her to stumble back slightly. If the bed hadn’t been right behind
her, she would’ve been able to right herself. Instead, she fell onto the mattress.

  Ace grinned down at her from above. “Perfect,” he murmured. Then he pulled his shirt up and off, which, yes, was perfect indeed. He was lean and all those corded muscles rippled with the movement of taking off his shirt. His skin was tan, scars in places she would catalogue, memorize, ask about.

  Later.

  For now, Ace crawled onto the bed and over her, but instead of covering her body as she had anticipated, he rested his fingertips along the waistband of her jeans. Gently, he scraped the calluses of his fingers against the tender skin beneath her belly button.

  She was breathing heavily and her heartbeat felt as if it was thundering in every inch of her body. Not just her chest, or even the pulse in her neck, but in her stomach and her thighs, all the way down to her toes. Everything pulsed with the beat, and with the need she thought might consume her completely.

  His eyes roamed over her as if she was something…magical or mystical. No one in her whole life had ever looked at her with even half that intensity. Was it any wonder she was ready to sleep with him when she barely knew him? He’d already given her more than every other man she’d ever met. Maybe that was sad, but it was the truth.

  Slowly, but with deft fingers, he flipped the button of her pants. He didn’t immediately move to the zipper as she had thought he would. Instead, his talented fingers traced unknown patterns on the tiny little triangle of skin the unbuttoned jeans button offered. She tried to swallow, but her throat was too dry. She tried to breathe evenly, but she was too worked up.

  “You’re going too slow,” she complained.

  His chuckle was a low rumble that echoed through her. It was dark and naughty, deliciously sinful. “There is no too slow when it comes to this.”

  “Yes, there is. You are being too slow. I want you to go faster.”