Page 20 of The Hotshot's Prize
I want so much. Maybe too much.
“Did I say something wrong?” Ella asks, her smile dimming slowly.
“No.” I shake my head, instantly feeling like a jerk for leaving her hanging after she tried to flirt. “I’m just trying to resist the primal urge to pin you to the ground and have you right here.”
Her cheeks redden. “Oh.”
I chuckle at how adorable she looks in this moment, all flustered and embarrassed.
“We’re almost there,” I say as my truck comes into view, parked just off the access road.
I should feel relieved. Instead, I feel…untethered.
We reach it, and she turns to me, hair tousled, cheeks flushed from the hike, and those goddamn eyes looking up at me like I hung the moon.
And suddenly, the question pops into my head.
What now?
Because I’m not ready to let her walk away.
But I don’t know if she’s ready to stay.
Chapter Seven
Ella
Zack’s phone rings, breaking the tense silence that’s beginning to settle between us. He fishes it out of his pack with a low curse, glancing at the screen before answering.
“Yeah, it’s me.”
His posture changes. Sharper. Alert.
I watch the tension ripple through him as he listens. His spine straightens, his eyes flicking to the horizon like he’s already a thousand miles away.
“Copy that,” he says. “I’ll be there ASAP. Fifteen, maybe twenty minutes out.”
The call ends, and the space between us suddenly feels too wide. My stomach knots.
“What is it?” I ask, my voice quiet.
He exhales hard and runs a hand through his hair. “Dispatch. There’s a controlled burn scheduled off the North Ridge trail. Temps are spiking, wind’s up. They need us to move fast before it gets out of hand.”
I blink. “You’re leaving?”
“Yeah.” He looks genuinely regretful, eyes searching mine. “I’m sorry. I didn’t expect it to be this soon. The burn window is narrow, so it’s now or never.”
Something twists in my chest.
He reaches for his gear, slinging on his fire pack with practiced ease. All business now. His movements are swift, efficient, confident. And distant.
But then he stops, looks at me again, something flickering in his expression.
“Shit.” He blows out a breath and steps closer. “I can’t…I don’t want you any closer to that fire than you need to be.”
I blink. “I…I can hike. I think I remember the route.”
“No,” he says firmly, his voice ringing with an authority that makes my heart skip with excitement. “I’m not letting you hike out alone, not with a sore ankle and spotty cell reception.”
