Page 23 of Fireline

She looked up from her clipboard.

“Thanks for the tip.”

“Just…be careful with my friend.”

Booth nodded and went back to work.

Over the top of his load, he caught sight of Nova. She was bent over, running the water hose over her head. When she stood, she flung her long red hair back, sending water spraying in an arc.

Oh yeah. She was under his skin all right.

Especially when Nova wrung the water out of her hair, noticed him, and smiled.

He smiled back, then turned away. Because, not for the first time, the sight of her stopped him, made him take a breath. Even all sooted up, she had a raw beauty, but most of the time, her cool demeanor kept all those thoughts on a low simmer.

But she’d smiled at him when she’d thanked him, and…yeah, he liked the mystery behind her. Except…one day he’d have to choose between trying to pull back her layers and walking back into his old life.

No, he was only biding his time here, so it wasn’t like any of this was real. Nova and what could be was just a wish. A dream he couldn’t have.

At least, not with an assassin out there possessing a hit order with his name on it.

Nova stared at the dancing flames in the campfire, exhausted beyond belief. If she weren’t so hungry, she’d crawl into her tent and pass out. Maybe a shower first. But it was the banter and laughs from the crew she knew were equally tired that kept her sitting around the fire, listening to the stories fresh off the line.

She finished her hamburger and tossed the napkin in the fire. It shriveled and disappeared in a second.

In the flames, faces appeared—Daniel’s, which then morphed into her father’s. She was thankful for the image, because some days she worried she might forget what he looked like.

The wildfire at the homestead had dredged up painful memories, but with her help, the outcome had been very different.

A bottle appeared out of the corner of her eye, and she turned to see Booth. “Ice-cold root beer. Sophie had two, so I threw a few elbows and snagged one for you.”

“Oh man. I was craving sugar.” She took the bottle. Twisted off the cap. Tossed it into the fire. Tipped her head back and took a long pull. The sweetness instantly energized her. “Oh man, that’s the stuff.”

“What? Nothing for me? I thought I was your favorite.” Finn threw up his arms.

Booth sat on the upturned log beside her, his shoulder brushing hers. “You’re everybody’s favorite, Finn.” Booth chuckled.

Nova sipped her soda and tried not to smile at Booth. She was still a little cranky about the way he’d talked to her after the fight, but then, she hadn’t exactly been a peach herself.

From the day he’d arrived, Booth had intrigued her, but he was always so buttoned up. Then yesterday, during their walk, he’d given her a glimpse beneath the surface. He was a thinker. Dependable.

And no, she hadn’t needed any help with the rack, but the fact he’d jumped in earlier today…okay, it’d been heavy.

And frankly, the man was handsome too. Sharp blue eyes that reflected the dancing flames when he worked a fire. A bristle beard, trimmed in such a way he had a rugged, perpetual five-o’clock shadow. That wild, sandy-blond hair needed a trim. It fell all wrong but also…just right.

But she couldn’t be with Booth if she didn’t really know him. The man was buttoned up tight. Keeping secrets, she was sure of it.

Besides, letting her personal feelings get in the way had never helped her achieve her goals before. Once upon a time she’d thought she’d wanted the ring, the wedding, and the happy ending. And look how that’d turned out.

Thank You, God, for letting me see the truth about Cliff’s addiction before it went too far.

Why would she let romance get in the way now, when she had her sights set on being crew chief? She needed to focus.

“Hey, Booth,” Finn called. “How about another campfire story? Got anything good?”

Booth grinned. “Really? I figured you’d be sick of those stories.”

“Well, since our lounge burned up today, it’s not like we can watch TV,” Vince said.

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