Page 3 of Light My Fire

Still, despite his recklessness, on the line he was tough, the kind of guy you wanted beside you because Riley simply didn’t know the wordquit.

“Are you sure?” Tucker said just as Reuben walked past them, the big man lifting his chin to Tucker. Jed turned and raised a hand to the departing couple, Gilly offering a smile. She just might be the most fearless among them—she not only flew them right over the flames but had started flying bombers a few summers ago, saving their lives more than once with the perfectly placed wave of water.

“Yeah. Listen, if there’s another start, just work with the local BLM incident commander to fight it. I trust you and your instincts, Tucker.”

Tucker didn’t know how to process those words, landing the way they did in the center of his chest.

Yeah, he used to have instincts. The kind that had destroyed his career, his future. He simply couldn’t trust instinct. Which is why he had rules. Obeyed them.

Jed pocketed his phone. “Gilly and Reuben are flying me down first thing in the morning.” He glanced at the teams. “Make sure these yahoos get back to the ranch in one piece. It’s nights like tonight that can wreck more lives than fire.”

“Roger,” Tucker said. “Standard Firefighting Order number two: Know what your fire is doing at all times.”

Jed laughed. “Clearly they’re in the right hands. Just…don’t do anything stupid with my team.”

Jed meant it as a joke—Tucker knew it. But the words still burrowed deep, found the raw, unhealed places where his shame sat, and stirred it. He forced a smile, nodded.

His gaze followed Jed out. He was reaching for a wing when his attention fell hard on a brunette with sable hair who eased into the bar, closing the door behind her as if she might be on the lookout for an ambush. She wore a leather jacket, jeans, cowboy boots, and a black T-shirt, and flashed a glance at Vic as she came in, taking off a pair of aviator sunglasses and setting them on the bar.

“Oh boy,” Vic said, her voice dropping. “Here comes trouble.”

Huh.

And maybe Vic was right, because the brunette definitely seemed to expect trouble the way she slid up to the bar, two stools down from Tucker, put her car keys on the bar, and looked into the mirror.

He’d seen it before—an almost “come-at-me” expression that had his instincts firing.

He knew that look. Had worn that look, once upon a time.

Apparently, he and Vic weren’t the only ones who noticed her because the conversation hum dipped. Just a moment, but enough for her to lift her chin, offer a dangerous, half hitch of a smile.

Tucker took a bite of one of his wings, then grabbed a napkin. Messy things. “What’s her story?”

“Local girl. Used to be a cop. Let’s just say that last time she was here, someone died.”

What? He frowned even as Vic headed over to the woman.

Striking, really. Beautiful, glossy sable hair. High, regal cheekbones, pale green eyes that seemed to read the room before they settled on Vic. Not necessarily petite, but not big-boned, either. Toned, capable. She put her booted foot on the bar rail.

“You got nerve,” Vic said as she put a napkin on the bar. “I don’t want trouble. Whatya have?”

“The usual,” the woman said, and Tucker’s interest piqued.

“Stevie Mills.”

The name carried across the room, attached to a big man—tall, wide shoulders, flannel shirt, and a baseball cap on backward over his dark, short-clipped hair. He emanated attitude in the way he walked over.

She got off the stool, meeting him. “Nate.” Despite standing a good foot shorter, she didn’t shrink back. Instead, her chin lifted a little, her eyes narrowing.

Nate leaned in and whispered in her ear, his six-something frame shadowing her, his voice low under the song on the jukebox.

Tucker saw her draw in her breath, and something inside him bristled. He didn’t care how tough a woman was—he didn’t like seeing anyone threatened. And Flannel Nate definitely had menace in his eyes.

Tucker reached for a napkin and started drying his hands. Kept her in his periphery.

When he heard an under-the-breath curse word, he glanced up. Vic was wiping a glass, shaking her head. “I knew it wouldn’t take long.”

He frowned, a question forming—

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