Page 5 of Redwood Blaze (Black Timber Peak Hotshots #1)

FOUR

MILLIE

I hear them cheering for Rusty from down the hallway. He’s well-loved and respected on the team. And he’ll never be a problem from a job standpoint, but personal one… I almost let it get too far. I almost gave in to temptation and I can’t do that.

Especially after that text. I lift my phone and my hand shakes as I open the messages to read it again.

Unknown: Millie, it’s me Terra Stivrins.

I know this isn’t normal and I could get fired, but I just heard from Gideon’s parole officer that he’s disabled his ankle monitor and they believe he’s hijacked a car and headed out of Oregon.

If you haven’t left, please, please, think about getting out of town.

I change her contact card to read her name and shake as I respond.

Millie: I can’t keep running, Terra.

Terra: Then please let people around you know what’s happening so they can protect you.

No, I can’t. I won’t put them in danger, too.

Plus, they have jobs to do. Sooner or later they’ll be out on the mountain, facing their own challenges.

Millie: I will.

Terra: Promise me.

I huff. For a woman who I’ve only met twice, she sure is an insistent thorn in my side.

But there’s someone else who has been a knife in my side.

Millie: I

I pause, my fingers cold. I told myself after Gideon went to prison I wouldn’t lie to people about what I was doing or what was happening.

Millie: I will.

Terra: Do you need anything?

Millie: A different past?

Terra: Hun, we all wish for that, but we need to realize that life is just a series of trials and challenges that make us stronger.

Millie: I’m okay with being weaker if I don’t have to deal with his shit anymore.

Terra: Understood. I’m here for you.

Millie: I know. Thank you.

Terra: Good luck.

Good luck, against a monster.

It’s like I’m a warrior going into battle. But I don’t want to fight anymore. I had four good years of silence in my life. Just being me.

And now he’s trying to come back and create the cacophony of anger that he’s known for.

I like the silence, Gideon. And I’m not going back to having your volume in my life.

“What do you mean you’re taking a few days off?” Cole asks while I’m packing my room up.

“The weather is clear for at least ten days. People are just starting to camp again. The last snow is still on the ground up top and the run off is flowing fast, so now’s a… a good… time.”

“There’s never a good time, Supe Archer.”

“I have to, Cole.”

He stills. “Is something wrong?”

You told Terra…

“No. Nothing. I just need a little space.”

“Where are you going? What cabin? Give me an address.”

I shove paperwork into my bag. “Up on peak six. The Himbaugh’s cabin. They’re still in Florida for the winter and said I can use it whenever I want.”

“That’s not a cabin. It’s a shack!”

“It’ll be fine for a few days to hide—… I mean, get away.” I almost say “hideout” and his eyes narrow in on me.

He’s a smokejumper, falling into the most remote wooded areas to fight fires.

If Rusty thinks he’s Captain America level badass, and don’t get me wrong, he is.

Cole is like Ironman, Superman, and Black Panther all rolled into one.

That level of badass. Smokejumpers aren’t known for having any sense of fear or self-preservation, but I can see something in his face that is reading that way.

“Millie… Millie! Just stop!” his voice escalates and I can’t help it, a small tremor of fear rolls through me at the volume. He rounds my desk. “What the fuck is going on?” His arms wrap around me and although my instinct is to fight my way out of the hold, I freeze.

“I’m… I’ve got to get away for a few days. I promise, I’ll be fine,” I murmur into his shoulder.

A man clears his throat from the door. “Am I interrupting something?”

The familiar voice straightens my back and when I look over at him, Rusty’s brows are practically in his hairline. He’s got the wrong idea, but at this point, I’m not sure I can care.

Cole steps back and whispers in my ear, away from the door. “Take a SAT phone. Check in every three hours. You don’t and we’re on our way.”

I nod just slightly. “Thanks, Cole. You’re in charge. Well, along with Mr. Phoenix here. You guys have a great weekend.” I grab my satchel and duffel and head toward the door.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, but I ignore it.

Daylight is running out and I’ve got a thirty-minute drive to get to the cabin…

actually, shack. I’ve been there once before when Mr. Himbaugh invited me to go fishing in the pond out back.

It’s one room with a curtain separating the bathroom from the living area.

Not exactly quaint or cozy, but it’ll work.

It’s secluded and if you don’t know where you’re going, you’ll drive right off the mountain before you get there.

Rusty follows on my heels. “You’re going on vacation?”

It’s not resonating well with any of them and visibly, they’re concerned, but I can’t stop to make it clear.

“Just a couple days.”

“But… what about…” He follows me out the door.

I throw my bags into the back seat of my truck and reach for the doorhandle.

“Is this about… us?” he says softly, his hand covering mine on the handle.

I wish it was about us. I wish there was an us. But there can’t be.

I plaster on the smile that reads fake in the window of my truck, but I turn to face him. “I need some space to think about things.”

That isn’t a lie.

He stands stoic, but in his next breath, releases my hand. “Where are you going?”

“Cole has all the details.” I open the door and climb in, turning it on, the familiar rumble settling me. I roll down my window and he uses the running board to hop up to be face to face with me.

“This isn’t over, Millie. You… me… I know we’ve been doing a two-step around each other, but I want to dance with you.”

Every word sinks into me.

I want that, too, but now is not the right time, Rusty.

Screw the rules.

Screw my need to be a good girl.

Screw it all!

I don’t stop myself. I lean through the window and my lips crush to his.

He holds on to the rearview mirror and his other hand slips behind my neck, turning my head to his will.

I whimper when his tongue darts out to ask for permission to play with mine.

I don’t deny him because at this moment, I couldn’t stop even if a meteor was headed right for us.

I meet him in the middle and our tongues dance, twisting like a fine Latin samba.

Quick and then slow.

Twirling and spinning.

Sensual and emotive.

It’s like he’s begging me to stay in a kiss.

I pull back, my breaths ragged, like his. “I’ll be back.” I rev my truck before putting it into gear, and he jumps off.

There’s no “See you later” because it might not come true.

He gives a wave and I tear out of the gravel parking lot like the devil is on my heels.

He probably is…