His Firefly Cowgirl (5 page)

“I’m not staying here with Hannah. I’m coming with you.”

“I can’t think about you right now. I’ll have Myron come by to pick you up.” He jogged out of the guest room and down to his own. Snatching up his boots, he turned and ran straight into Sophie.

“There’s not a chance you’re going to leave here without me.” She had already dressed and pulled on her own boots. Hell, she had her damn messenger bag on her shoulder and was currently twisting her hair into some intricate knot.

Instead of answering, he ran down the stairs. That’s when he heard the siren from the firehouse wailing in the distance. How could he have missed it?

Easy answer. He was busy sticking his dick where he shouldn’t be. Sophie was beautiful, smart and intelligent, but she was his past. She made it very clear there was no future. It was a quick fuck. Or two. He shouldn’t be disappointed and he damn sure shouldn’t be feeling a pain in his heart.

He grabbed his replacement phone from the charging station by the door and slammed outside, Sophie hot on his heels. She definitely had the speed required to keep up with him.

He wasn’t sure if he should be impressed or pissed.

They reached the truck and he threw himself in, starting the truck even as he closed the door. He flipped on the flashing lights in the back and front windows. Sophie didn’t miss a beat, climbing in like an acrobat. He continued to ignore her and dialed Clint from the phone. Thank God he’d picked up a burner at Madison’s yesterday or he’d have had to ask Sophie to use hers. It only took half a ring before his cousin picked up.

“Where the fuck are you?” His angry voice almost busted Dax’s eardrum.

“On my way. What’s going on?”

“Fire out behind the jail in the old building. Kyle’s fixing to have kittens.” A few shouts and the sound of the pumper truck siren sounded in the background. “Get your ass over here. I’ve got your shit with me.”

Clint hung up and Dax grimaced at the phone. “That’s not a coincidence.”

“What’s going on?”

Should he tell her? She was an insurance investigator and had no personal stake in Tanger or its residents. He should thank her for the memories and tell her to go home.

Dax opened his mouth to say just that, but the words didn’t come out. Not the words he should have said anyway.

“The old jail is burning. A week after the restaurant burned.”

She didn’t say anything for a few beats. “Someone is burning the older buildings in town.”

“That’s what I thought too. Then I took into account the structures are also old so the wood is drier and they burn faster. But I also know we had new insulation put in about fifteen years ago and a state of the art sprinkler system and fire alarm put in the restaurant.” He blew through a stop sign, counting on everyone in town knowing his vehicle and heeding the flashing lights on his truck.

“Your receipts—“

“Yes, the fucking receipts are in the file I gave you.” He was too worked up to worry about her feelings. Anger and frustration bubbled in his gut. He wished he’d had a chance to grab coffee because it would give him something to do besides snarl at Sophie.

She remained silent as he drove like a madman, swerving around a few cars and one foolish dog. It took less than ten minutes but it felt more like an hour. Sphincter factor of ten.

He stopped his truck on the seat and jumped out of the truck. The acrid stench of smoke filled his nose. He needed to get to the pumper, parked sideways in front of the newer jail and assess the situation.

Flames flickered in the early-morning sky, angry red and orange against the blue. He grabbed his gear and started pulling it on, hoping his daybreak foolishness didn’t cost the town more of its soul.

Chapter Five

Sophie had never felt so small and unimportant. When she’d been with Dax years ago, he’d been an eager volunteer firefighter with very little experience and more energy than common sense.

He was no longer that fresh-faced boy.

This was a man who took charge, shouting orders and pulling on his turnout suit with practiced efficiency. The heat from the fire was intense even a hundred feet away. She should move farther back, but she couldn’t take her eyes from Dax.

He had been serious about his family’s ranch and firm in his decision not to go to college. However, she’d judged him for that choice. He was so smart, and could have been anything other than a rancher and a volunteer firefighter. It was a waste.

At least that’s what she’d thought at the age of eighteen. Ten years, and hard life experiences had taught her how foolish her opinions had been. Dax had not only kept his family’s ranch in the black, but he’d helped his sister run the restaurant and he’d become fire chief. He was successful. On his own.

Without her.

She was the one who’d made the choice to leave everything behind. Whether or not it had been a mistake, it was far too late to change it. Regretting her decision wouldn’t gain a thing except more heartache.

Then why did her throat tighten as she watched Dax? He was ridiculously good-looking, intelligent and great in bed. Her body still hummed from the near-sex less than twenty minutes earlier.

“You shouldn’t be this close to the fire.”

She started at the sound of an unfamiliar male voice. Sophie turned to find Kyle Blackwood at her elbow. The oldest of the generation of cousins, Kyle was the most serious. It also appeared he was a deputy sheriff now. His curly brown hair was cut short against his skull, but a few random curls popped up. She decided not to mention them given the fierce scowl on his face.

His deep-green eyes regarded her steadily. “I’m serious, Miss Evans. You need to move back to the other side of the street.”

“Miss Evans?” She matched his scowl with one of her own. “I seem to remember we played in the mud together when we were barely out of diapers.”

His jaw tightened. “That was twenty-five years ago. We’re grown adults. Responsible grown adults.” He pointed to the corner opposite them. “Now move, or I’ll move you.”

She wasn’t sure if he was serious or not but he sure as hell looked serious. Especially considering he had a wicked-looking gun strapped to his hip. The uniform suited him, accentuated his broad chest and shoulders.

“Dax’s truck is here. I came with him.” She waited to see what he’d say.

“Dax is the fire chief. You’re a stranger and you need to move to a safer location.” Damn but he was a hardass. Calling her a stranger was downright mean.

“Fine, but I’m going to get my things out of the truck first.”

“Make it quick.” He glanced back at the firefighters as they worked together to extinguish the flames.

As she hopped into the truck, Sophie knew she’d get in trouble but she couldn’t rouse herself to care. She had to stay close and keep an eye on Dax. Later she’d examine why it was so important to her.

She locked the doors and settled in to watch.

Kyle turned and looked at her for a few moments before he realized what she’d done. He glanced at the door locks. “Miss Evans. Unlock the door.” He raised his voice to be heard through the glass.

She shook her head and pointed at the fire. “Help your cousin. I’ll be fine.”

The truth was, Sophie was far from fine but what was important was not her moving across the road. She needed to watch to be sure Dax would be all right. Never mind that it had been five years since she’d laid eyes on him, time didn’t erase love.

Jesus please us.

Sophie wanted to slap her forehead. How could she still be in love with Dax Blackwood? Her heart was a foolish, ridiculous organ. There was no reasoning with it. She didn’t want to love him.

Damn, damn, damn.

Kyle knocked on the window. “I won’t ask you again.”

“Good. Then go do your job and leave me be.” She hoped he wasn’t pissed enough to arrest her.

He shook his head and walked away, shouting at some kids on the corner who were creeping closer to the fire. Sophie let out the breath she’d been holding and returned her attention to the firefighters.

Two of them held the hose while a third monitored the gauges on the pumper truck. There were at least four or five more firefighters but she couldn’t see them. They wore their turnout suits and helmets so she couldn’t see their faces.

A steady column of smoke burped out from the old jail. Waves of heat shimmered around the entire site. The old jail had been something of a place to step into the past. It had one old cell in the back of it with crude-looking iron bars. She remembered one of Kyle’s ancestors, the Ezekiel he was named after, had been a sheriff in Tanger in that very building.

Now it was burning, its history and memories incinerated. She didn’t know if this fire was connected to the restaurant one, but it was quite a coincidence that both buildings were more than a hundred and fifty years old. Statistically speaking, it was off the charts.

She didn’t suspect negligence on the part of the owners. The buildings were also on opposite ends of the main street. This situation just went up to a level higher than Sophie’s expertise. They needed a fire marshal investigator. She pulled out her phone and started dialing.

If she still loved Dax, the best thing she could do for him was to find out who was setting fires in Tanger. The next best thing was to leave town as soon as possible.

Or perhaps leaving was what was best for her.

Dax sweated rivers beneath his gear. The fire burned hot, much hotter than it should. That told him there was an accelerant involved. His thought about someone setting fires was more of a certainty.

An hour passed while they worked to extinguish the fire. The jail was more isolated than the restaurant so there was little danger of the flames jumping to another building. That didn’t make them work any less to get this done.

The sun rose as they worked, making the heat worse. They finally took control of the blaze after another hour. Thank God it was almost over. His stomach had long since stopped growling for breakfast and his balls might not ever forgive him for the heated hell they hung in.

Clint signaled to him and Dax walked around the back of the building. The back knee wall had been fortified by cinder block about fifty years earlier. They stood strong and undamaged by the blaze. He breathed a sigh of relief and swung around the entire structure, pleased by how well they’d extinguished the blaze.

“It’s gone.” Kyle stepped up beside him.

Dax pushed up the faceplate on his helmet. “Not entirely. The back wall is still standing.”

Kyle handed him a bottle of water. “That isn’t going to stay standing and you know it. The town will tear it down.” He frowned at the dwindling blaze and coughed. “Son of a bitch.”

“You thinking what I’m thinking?”

“If you’re thinking some asshole set this blaze and the one at Cindy’s, then yep, I am.” Kyle wasn’t one to swear so when he did, Dax paid attention.

“Who did we piss off lately? You know some folks hate the Blackwoods.” Dax couldn’t think of anyone bat shit crazy enough to burn down two buildings.

“I aim to find out.” Kyle gestured to the street. “Sophie Evans locked herself in your truck despite my efforts to move her to the other side of the street.”

Dax had forgotten she was there. He’d hyper-focused on what he had to do to as a firefighter. The emotion of the last twenty-four hours made him want to punch something.

“Leave her be, Kyle.”

“I was doing my job, nothing more. She got cute and locked herself in the truck.” Kyle put his hands on his hips, emphasizing the sheer size of him. “I was gonna get the Slim Jim and pop that ancient lock but—“

“Hey now, no call insulting my ride.” Dax took a swig of water. “That old bucket of rust runs and gets me from there to here and back.”

“I figured the heat would force Sophie out before long.” Kyle’s mouth twisted. “I forgot how stubborn that female was.”

Dax laughed and damn but it felt good. “I think there’s a picture of her in the dictionary under the word stubborn. Possibly under contentious too.”

The two men grinned at each other, a shared memory from their growing-up years breaking the darkness of the day’s events. They’d built a fort in the woods near the Triple B. They’d hung a sign that said “Boys Only”. They couldn’t have been more than eight at the time. Sophie had dressed in boy’s clothing and showed up, demanding to be allowed in. Stubborn as hell, she’d stood beneath fort for hours until she ran off only to appear with cookies. That was the end of the boys-only designation for good.

“You want me to check on her?” Kyle offered.

“Nah. We’re almost done. I’ll mosey on over and make sure she hasn’t passed out.” Dax didn’t know how hot it was outside of his suit. It was likely close to ninety and it probably wasn’t even ten yet. After they finished up here and did all the required paperwork, he was heading back to the ranch and diving in the pond. The thought of the cool water kept him moving when he wanted to sit down and catch his breath.

Many folks didn’t know how physically taxing it was to be a firefighter. Of course there were television shows and what people assumed from movies, but the truth was, it took every molecule of his being to do what he did. It wasn’t just about being in good physical shape, although that was a given. It was also about the mental focus and the ability to track how the wind and weather affected the blaze.

Volunteer firefighters weren’t paid for what they did, but he sure as hell owned it. Good or bad, Dax did what he did because he loved the town and was proud to protect it. He wasn’t carrying a gun and dealing with criminals like Kyle but he fought the good fight nonetheless.

When he reached the truck, he found Sophie with her cheek pressed against the window as she strained to watch the firefighters. He came up from behind and knocked on the window. She jumped about a foot in the air and watched him with wide eyes.

To his shock, she unlocked the door and jumped out. She wrapped her arms around him so tight she cut off his air. He couldn’t extract her arms so he let her hang on, surprised to find she was trembling.

“Soph?”

“I never saw you fight a fire before.” Her muffled voice came from where her face was buried in his neck.

“The fire is almost out.”

“You put your life on the line every second. It’s terrifying.” She leaned back to look at him. “And humbling.”

As he stared into her dark eyes, he found himself tumbling right back into love with her. His feelings had always been there, tucked away. Perhaps he never would have fallen in love with any other woman. It had always been Sophie who owned his heart.

Son of a bitch. He didn’t need to accept or admit what he knew to be the truth. She couldn’t know or he would set himself up for another heartbreak for which he might never recover.

“I enjoy it and I do it for the town.” He kept his voice neutral. “I’m not done doing it either. Just wanted to check on you since Kyle was all twisted in a knot after your stunt.”

She wrinkled her nose. “He’s turned into such a hard-ass.”

“He has to be. Deputies have to deal with more shit than a volunteer firefighter, sometimes literally.” He set her away from him. “Stay here.”

She nodded and crossed her arms. Dax didn’t know whether to be glad she listened, for the first time ever, or suspicious.

He couldn’t think too hard about Sophie for right now. There was a dwindling fire to kill. Later he would examine what the hell had just happened.

Sophie cracked the window in the truck but, to her horror, the heat from outside added more sweat to her already disgusting clothes she’d worn the day before. Perhaps she should have asked Hannah to borrow something. She could go down to the general store and see what they had. It might not be fashionable but it would be clean.

What she should be doing is finding Myron and getting her car fixed. Then getting the hell out of Tanger. Instead, she sat in a sweltering old truck that smelled of the horse shit on the rubber mats. It was a rancher’s vehicle so it should smell. That didn’t make it any easier to sit there.

Sophie was paralyzed by her own indecision. She recognized how ridiculous the situation was, but she didn’t do anything to change it. The sad truth was, she could have called a rental car agency or another tow truck company and paid through the nose to get herself back to Houston.

What she did was let Dax take charge. She knew it and acknowledged it. As a woman who had steered her own destiny for ten years, it was galling to realize what she’d done. She had wanted to relinquish that control.

To Dax.

Another hour and another quart of perspiration later, he returned to the truck. His turnout suit was rolled down to his waist exposing the black T-shirt he’d been wearing. It was soaked with sweat and molded to every muscle and tendon in his fine, fine chest.

Her body clenched with an urgent need to get him naked again. Holy shit, but that man was delicious.