Never Too Hot (Hot Shots: Men of Fire 3)

“Sounds like you'd better get that.”

More than a little irritated by the interruption, she tucked the towel under her arms and headed into her bedroom to pick up the cordless.

“Hello.”

An unfamiliar male voice greeted her on the other end. “Hi. Sorry to bother you, but this is Sam MacKenzie. Any chance my brother is there?”

Connor was just walking past her door to his bedroom, a towel slung low around his narrow hips. “Yes, he is.

I'll put him right on.” To Connor she said, “It's Sam.”

Connor lifted an eyebrow in surprise as he took the phone. “What's up?”

She couldn't hear what Sam was saying, but as she watched Connor's expression change back into that ice-cold rock she'd seen more than once, her concern morphed into full-on fear.

“Got it,” he finally said. “Nope. It's fine. Talk to you later.”

“Connor?” She moved closer. “Did something happen?”

He didn't say anything for quite a while, just stood there. His face was turned away from her so she couldn't get a read on him as he said, “The Forest Service has been trying to get hold of me. They called Thursday, left a couple of messages at my house and on my cell. When they didn't hear back, a friend of ours called Sam to make sure I was handling the news okay.”

Oh God, she knew what he was going to say. “What was the news?”

“I'm out. For good.”

His fingertips were numb as he dialed his voice mail to listen to the Forest Service director's message.

“After reviewing your case again the Forest Service has decided not to put you back out in the field. And, asI'm sure you're aware, you are at the end of the appeal process. A member of our reorganization program will becontacting you in a few days to discuss your new options within the Forest Service family. Again, we hope you'lldecide to stay on with the Forest Service in some capacity. You have been a great asset to our organization duringthe past decade and we are confident that you will be just as great of an asset in the future in whatever new roleyou take.”

New options?

Future?

From the day he'd graduated high school, Connor had been up in the mountains chasing wildfires. What the hell was he supposed to do with himself now? Teach from a book for the rest of his life? Wear a suit and get a paunch and tell the same stories over and over again about the “good old days” to the rookies?

He felt the bomb that had been building inside of him during the past two years start to detonate, slowly but surely. Blackness was swirling up from deep in his gut — a blackness that he hadn't wanted to face, not even in the darkest days of his burns and skin grafts — like thick ink soaking straight into his cells.

Two years ago, everything had happened so fast he hadn't had a chance to brace himself for the hit. Whereas this loss of everything he was, his world falling literally off its axis, was almost coming in slow motion.

But at the same time that the agony was prolonged, it gave him time to try to find something to hold on to, anything, just as long as it would keep his head above water for a little while longer.

Ginger's arms came around him, then, and as she murmured how sorry she was, he realized the answer was right here.

As long as he could keep losing himself in Ginger, he might be able to keep the demons at bay.

Chapter Thirteen

GINGER HAD never felt the need to comfort someone as much as she did in that moment after Connor heard the bad news. She tried to think what she would want him to do if their positions were reversed, if an all-controlling organization took her paints and canvases away for good. She would have wanted to bury herself in his warmth, let her tears pour down onto his chest while he stroked her and told her everything was going to be all right.

So she'd taken one step and then another toward him and put her arms around him. Tears pricked at her eyes as she held him and although his arms came around her too, even though he didn't push her away, after a few moments she realized he wasn't letting loose at all, wasn't giving in to the inner turmoil that had to be ripping him apart.

He probably just needed some time to digest the news was what she told herself as they went about their day. She drew sketches for some new paintings out on the porch; he worked on the cabin. By noon the storm had blown out of town, leaving behind brilliant blue skies and blinding sparkles across the surface of the water. But the underlying tension in the cabin was suffocating.

Even after lunch, when he'd said it was time for dessert and then lifted her up on the indoor dining table and made love to her, while the pleasure was just as intense as it had been all night long and into the morning, she couldn't help but feel like what was between them had changed.

On the one hand, it was obvious that he needed her more than ever. His constant caresses and kisses in the hours after the phone call were testament to that. But at the same time, she felt that he'd begun to hold pieces of himself back.

She tried to tell herself that she'd only known him five days, but no matter how she spun it, any way she looked at it, his behavior didn't make sense.

He should be yelling. Lashing out.

She still remembered how she felt that night at the auction when Jeremy had said those horrible things, how she'd finally let go of everything she'd been holding back for so long. Her smiles gave way to rage. And, oh, it had felt so good to just let it all come spilling out. Not to worry about the mess she left behind, because she was already gone. Already starting over.

And it was because Connor's situation felt so similar — and because she already cared so deeply for him — that she wanted to call him on it, wanted to force him to grieve, to truly face what had happened, to start to come to terms with his new future.

Whatever that future held.

There had to be plenty of other people hurting for him today. His brother obviously was. And his parents, when they finally found out, would probably be devastated as well.

Thinking of Connor's parents made her finally remember.

The love letters.

Everything had happened so fast after they'd left the workshop the night before. The kids lighting fireworks.

Kissing Connor in the rain. Thoughts of him had used up every last brain cell until now.

She needed to see Isabel. Give the stack of letters to her friend. And maybe, while she was gone, Connor might start to come to terms with the about-face his life had taken and he might be more ready to talk to her about it when she got back.

o;Sounds like you'd better get that.”

More than a little irritated by the interruption, she tucked the towel under her arms and headed into her bedroom to pick up the cordless.

“Hello.”

An unfamiliar male voice greeted her on the other end. “Hi. Sorry to bother you, but this is Sam MacKenzie. Any chance my brother is there?”

Connor was just walking past her door to his bedroom, a towel slung low around his narrow hips. “Yes, he is.

I'll put him right on.” To Connor she said, “It's Sam.”

Connor lifted an eyebrow in surprise as he took the phone. “What's up?”

She couldn't hear what Sam was saying, but as she watched Connor's expression change back into that ice-cold rock she'd seen more than once, her concern morphed into full-on fear.

“Got it,” he finally said. “Nope. It's fine. Talk to you later.”

“Connor?” She moved closer. “Did something happen?”

He didn't say anything for quite a while, just stood there. His face was turned away from her so she couldn't get a read on him as he said, “The Forest Service has been trying to get hold of me. They called Thursday, left a couple of messages at my house and on my cell. When they didn't hear back, a friend of ours called Sam to make sure I was handling the news okay.”

Oh God, she knew what he was going to say. “What was the news?”

“I'm out. For good.”

His fingertips were numb as he dialed his voice mail to listen to the Forest Service director's message.

“After reviewing your case again the Forest Service has decided not to put you back out in the field. And, asI'm sure you're aware, you are at the end of the appeal process. A member of our reorganization program will becontacting you in a few days to discuss your new options within the Forest Service family. Again, we hope you'lldecide to stay on with the Forest Service in some capacity. You have been a great asset to our organization duringthe past decade and we are confident that you will be just as great of an asset in the future in whatever new roleyou take.”

New options?

Future?

From the day he'd graduated high school, Connor had been up in the mountains chasing wildfires. What the hell was he supposed to do with himself now? Teach from a book for the rest of his life? Wear a suit and get a paunch and tell the same stories over and over again about the “good old days” to the rookies?

He felt the bomb that had been building inside of him during the past two years start to detonate, slowly but surely. Blackness was swirling up from deep in his gut — a blackness that he hadn't wanted to face, not even in the darkest days of his burns and skin grafts — like thick ink soaking straight into his cells.

Two years ago, everything had happened so fast he hadn't had a chance to brace himself for the hit. Whereas this loss of everything he was, his world falling literally off its axis, was almost coming in slow motion.

But at the same time that the agony was prolonged, it gave him time to try to find something to hold on to, anything, just as long as it would keep his head above water for a little while longer.

Ginger's arms came around him, then, and as she murmured how sorry she was, he realized the answer was right here.

As long as he could keep losing himself in Ginger, he might be able to keep the demons at bay.

Chapter Thirteen

GINGER HAD never felt the need to comfort someone as much as she did in that moment after Connor heard the bad news. She tried to think what she would want him to do if their positions were reversed, if an all-controlling organization took her paints and canvases away for good. She would have wanted to bury herself in his warmth, let her tears pour down onto his chest while he stroked her and told her everything was going to be all right.

So she'd taken one step and then another toward him and put her arms around him. Tears pricked at her eyes as she held him and although his arms came around her too, even though he didn't push her away, after a few moments she realized he wasn't letting loose at all, wasn't giving in to the inner turmoil that had to be ripping him apart.

He probably just needed some time to digest the news was what she told herself as they went about their day. She drew sketches for some new paintings out on the porch; he worked on the cabin. By noon the storm had blown out of town, leaving behind brilliant blue skies and blinding sparkles across the surface of the water. But the underlying tension in the cabin was suffocating.

Even after lunch, when he'd said it was time for dessert and then lifted her up on the indoor dining table and made love to her, while the pleasure was just as intense as it had been all night long and into the morning, she couldn't help but feel like what was between them had changed.

On the one hand, it was obvious that he needed her more than ever. His constant caresses and kisses in the hours after the phone call were testament to that. But at the same time, she felt that he'd begun to hold pieces of himself back.

She tried to tell herself that she'd only known him five days, but no matter how she spun it, any way she looked at it, his behavior didn't make sense.

He should be yelling. Lashing out.

She still remembered how she felt that night at the auction when Jeremy had said those horrible things, how she'd finally let go of everything she'd been holding back for so long. Her smiles gave way to rage. And, oh, it had felt so good to just let it all come spilling out. Not to worry about the mess she left behind, because she was already gone. Already starting over.

And it was because Connor's situation felt so similar — and because she already cared so deeply for him — that she wanted to call him on it, wanted to force him to grieve, to truly face what had happened, to start to come to terms with his new future.

Whatever that future held.

There had to be plenty of other people hurting for him today. His brother obviously was. And his parents, when they finally found out, would probably be devastated as well.

Thinking of Connor's parents made her finally remember.

The love letters.

Everything had happened so fast after they'd left the workshop the night before. The kids lighting fireworks.

Kissing Connor in the rain. Thoughts of him had used up every last brain cell until now.

She needed to see Isabel. Give the stack of letters to her friend. And maybe, while she was gone, Connor might start to come to terms with the about-face his life had taken and he might be more ready to talk to her about it when she got back.