The Eleventh Hour

He’d discovered he didn’t need constant life-and-death struggles to fulfill himself. He could be satisfied keeping the women of Baxter occupied and playing cards in the firehouse in between saving cats from trees.

When adventure had tapped him on the shoulder a few days ago, offering another taste of exhilaration, he’d accepted reluctantly. He was only here to honor Tommy’s memory. To offer himself to Josh and the rest of the team one last time.

Maybe Laine could remind him why he belonged with these guys. “Oh, yeah, I’m coming.”

LAINE SQUINTED. Most of the bar was a vague blur.

Maybe she shouldn’t have ordered a cosmopolitan then downed half the contents in one swallow. Gulping was the only way she could get the thing down. Though her sister and friends had claimed the drink as their own—as a joke, since being cosmopolitan in tiny Kendall, Texas, was something of a challenge—she’d never gotten used to the taste.

She was going to need a designated driver at this rate. And still nothing would change the humiliating call she’d gotten that afternoon from her editor.

Mac, in his charming, sweet way, had torn into her pictures. Though at least by sending the digital images, she’d assumed that he couldn’t literally tear them.

“Do I need to send one of the boys out there to show you what pictures of a fire look like?” he’d asked.

She’d sent him pictures of evacuation preparations, people living in the shelters and firefighters getting into their gear. Though planning to develop a well-rounded piece—complete with uplifting shots as well as action ones—she was still working her way up to the actual fire.

“You don’t need to send the boys,” she’d said, not at all surprised by Mac’s impatience. “I’m going up in a helicopter tomorrow.”

Which was why she was drinking tonight.

Her assurances had warded off Mac’s threat of replacement and kept her paycheck coming—for the moment anyway.

She sipped her cosmo, winced, then promptly advised her scaredy-cat conscience that she wasn’t some insecure little girl who had nightmares about her boyfriend’s horrifying death. She’d conquered her fear of heights years ago. Her hands had barely shaken as she’d watched a truckload of tired-looking smoke jumpers climb out of a chopper yesterday.

Unfortunately, her plan to take care of Aunt Jen wasn’t going much better than her job. She’d tried to convince her aunt that her home was about to be consumed by fire. And wouldn’t it be a good idea to be prepared for that event?

Nope. Not according to Aunt Jen. And her prayer group was working overtime just to be sure.

“Can I buy you a drink, honey?”

Scowling, she glanced up at a smiling, dark-haired man. “No, thanks.”

Men were the last complication she needed. Thankfully, she hadn’t seen Steve or anyone on his team yesterday, as they were deep in the forest, digging fire lines. She’d met Chief Jeff Arnold, finding him professional, experienced and cooperative.

And much more interesting than the guy who was now sitting next to her, despite her refusal of his drink offer.

“I’m Mark,” he said.

Laine pushed to her feet. “I’m going.”

“Don’t go. Have a drink with me.” Mark pointed at her half-full martini glass. “Cosmo?”

“Yes, but—”

As Mark raised his hand to catch the bartender’s attention, she noticed something jaw-dropping. “You’re wearing a wedding ring.”

Mark shrugged. “I’m just looking for someone to talk to.”

No wonder she spent her days working and her nights and weekends balancing the books at Temptation. Alone. “Are you really?”

“My wife understands.”

“I’ll bet.”

“What can I get you?” the bartender asked.

“Nothing,” Laine said before Mark could respond. Shaking her head, she waved. “Bye, Mark.”

As Mark the Cheating Scumbag got up from his stool and strolled away, Laine glanced around Suds. With its ancient-looking tables, scuffed floor, ever-flowing tap and simple bar food, it reminded her of Temptation.

It was still hard to believe she was too far away to rush back to Kendall and see what problems had popped up at the bar.

She did, however, have to worry what bills might need paying. And she couldn’t push aside the compulsion to call her sister and remind her to call the auction house about selling the furniture.

She’d left a clearly outlined plan of action taped to the bar before she’d left on Thursday, and she’d bet her best zoom lens that Cat hadn’t so much as glanced at it.

Digging her cell phone from her purse, she called the bar. Though it was nearly nine on a Sunday night, she knew her sister wouldn’t be home with a cup of tea and a book.

“Cat?” she yelled into the phone over the blaring music.

“Lainey?”

Laine ground her teeth. “Have you called the auction house yet? We need to get some cash for the furniture to pay off the liquor supplier.”

“Hi, sister dear, how are you?” Cat answered back in a sarcastic tone. “How was your day? I’m sure it’s so difficult dealing with everything all on your own since I left you there without a thought at all for anybody but myself.”

Laine eyed the bar in front of her and tried to resist the urge to pound her head against it. They’d had this argument already. Her income was all they had at the end of the month. She had to make sure the money kept coming in. “Please don’t start, Cat,” she said calmly. “You’ll be fine. Just follow my list.”

“What list?”

“The one I taped to the bar that explained step by step what you needed to do this week.”

“Oh, I wondered what that was. Some guy spilled whiskey all over it Friday night. I threw it away.”

Laine rubbed her temples. Why had she called? Why did she continue to submit herself to the torture of communicating with her sister? “I’ll e-mail you another copy. And call the auction house first thing tomorrow.”

“I’m busy.”

“Please, Cat. We have to get moving on these things.”

“Yeah, sure we do.”

Was that a catch in her sister’s voice? Okay, maybe she was irresponsible and forgetful, but she was family. Her baby sister. This closing was hard on her. Maybe—

“Look, Laine, I’ve got to go,” she said and disconnected.

Their once-boisterous Irish father was no doubt rolling over in his grave at the tension between his two girls. Laine had always taken care of her sister, tried to get her to do the right thing, the responsible thing. But Cat never saw things the same way and inevitably dug in her heels whenever Laine tried to convince her otherwise.

Feeling both relief at having done her duty and overwhelming guilt at abandoning Cat to tasks she would never manage on her own, she closed her cell phone, then dropped it back in her purse.

She would just have to straighten it all out when she got back.

Rolling her shoulders, she thought about her shooting plan for the next day. Some aerials of the damage, some—

Without fanfare or a drumroll, Steve Kimball walked into the bar, his buddy Josh Burke flanking him.

Steve looked every bit as good as he had that summer. Wavy black hair, broad shoulders, confident, seductive smile. Caught up in her stunned, drooling stare, she even thought—from fifteen feet away—she could see the mischievous glint in his bright blue eyes.

Her body loosened. Sparked. Stood at attention.

Though confused at being awakened so suddenly, she was pretty sure her libido saluted.

What had she done? Why had she thought she could be within twenty miles of this man and not want him again?

Like the chicken she was trying to prove she wasn’t, she hid behind a menu. She wasn’t ready to face him.

By now she supposed he knew she was in town, since she’d spotted Josh the first night she’d arrived, when she’d met her friend Denise for drinks.

As she peeked past the menu, she saw him looking around the bar, as if searching for someone. Her? Not likely. He’d been angry and resentful when she’d asked him to choose between her and his job. In retrospect, she could hardly blame him.

An adventurer like him wouldn’t have stayed satisfied with her for long. Not when he had his pick of any woman he wanted. And she couldn’t imagine spending her life watching him jump out of airplanes, wondering when the day would come that he never made it home.

Deep down she’d known they’d never last. Asking him to choose, when she already knew the answer, was an easy way to bring everything to a neat end.

He and Josh obviously spotted their buddies in a back booth, already crowded with giggling women. She recalled many times when Steve, Josh and Tommy were surrounded by women. Josh, with his shaggy, curly dark hair and direct stare. Tommy with his clean-cut, blond California good looks. And Steve, rounding out the gorgeous and charming threesome.

She could hardly blame the women for their good taste. Still, Laine had been embarrassingly insecure and jealous.

In the years since, she’d grown up a lot, found some confidence and backbone. She wasn’t emotionally invested in Steve anymore. He and his dangerous job simply reminded her of an uncertain time in her life, and of her insecurity about his feelings for her. And while he might still affect her body, his job didn’t matter, except in relation to her photo assignment. She wasn’t falling for him again.

Especially since he wasn’t likely to give her a second glance.

Save Aunt Jen from a wildfire and her pride. Wow her editor with action, nongirlie photos. Resist Steve Kimball.

A workable plan. A reasonable plan.

Right?

2

SETTLED INTO A BOOTH and surrounded by Josh and Cole and the lovely ladies they’d invited, Steve glanced around the bar. He saw several colleagues, a few people he vaguely recalled from either his residency seven years ago or the recent work on the fires, plus a stranger or two.

Certainly no Laine Sheehan.

He wished he wasn’t so disappointed. They hadn’t parted on the best of terms. It’s not as though she’d be holding up a welcome banner.

“So, did you put out the fire yet?” a buxom brunette sitting between Josh and Cole asked.

“No, silly,” her equally buxom blond companion said with a nudge. “Don’t you ever watch the news?”

“Not if I can help it…”

Steve let their voices fade into the background. Though he hesitated to admit it to himself, and certainly wouldn’t tell his friends, he was bored.

And he couldn’t explain why. Back home in Georgia he liked nothing better than to hang out with his buddies from the firehouse. If a woman or two wandered across his path, all the better.

Why was he restless? Why could he only manage a smile at Cole’s raunchy joke?

Simple. He couldn’t get Laine out of his mind.

“You all right?” Cole asked.

“Fine.” He sipped his beer. “It’s just been a helluva few days.”

“Tell me about it. This is a wild one.”

“You ever feel like you’re just barely hangin’ on?”

“All the time.” Cole reached for a handful of beer nuts. “It’s good to have you back, though. Tommy would have loved it.”

“Yeah. It’s not the same without him.” And Steve wondered if the knot in his stomach would ever loosen. “You think we can beat this thing?”

“Hell yeah. And it’ll sure be fun trying.”

Steve forced himself to smile, knowing the facade of enthusiasm he had to keep up. “Sure will.”

Josh pushed the pitcher of beer their way. “Thank God the workday’s done.”

Cole refilled their mugs. “And the night’s young.”

Steve clanged his mug against the others’, caught the gaze of the brunette who didn’t watch the news, then looked away. Hanging with his old buddies again helped him accept Tommy’s death, and even made him recall his exhilarating days as a smoke jumper without panicking. But part of him also realized he’d moved on. Running, but still on to something new.

As he sipped his beer, he caught a glimpse of a blonde at the far end of the bar, a black camera bag resting by her feet. “Laine?” he said aloud, though nobody likely heard him over the toasts.

He rose. “I’ll be back,” he said absently to Cole, leaving his beer on the table and keeping his gaze locked on the familiar woman across the room.

She looked nearly the same. Lovely. Delicate, but strong. Wearing jeans, a crewneck white shirt and navy blazer, she didn’t seem ordinary in the ordinary clothes. Instead of the ponytail he remembered, her hair fell to her shoulders and curved softly around her face. Her lips, which he always remembered her biting, were full and glossy pink.

He stopped next to her and felt a familiar desire slide into his stomach. “Hi, Laine.”

“Hi, Steve,” she said, her brown-eyed gaze meeting his dead on.

This close, something about her, the look in her eyes, or the strength of her posture, made her seem bolder, more confident. Though he’d been crazy about shy and sweet Laine, he found himself drawn to the change.

Oh, yeah, rekindling the heat between him and Laine could be just the thing to jolt him out of his depression and distract him from the duty he dreaded.

He loomed over her and liked the way her eyes widened at his proximity. “Can an old friend buy you a drink?”

“Sure.” Cool as a cucumber, she shrugged. “If you can fit me into your fan club. Maybe you should give everybody membership numbers. You know, to keep things fair.”

The old tension returned as though seven minutes had passed rather than seven years. He couldn’t help it if people felt comfortable approaching him. He was a firefighter and well known in Fairfax. His height communicated confidence. Hell, people liked him. Was that a crime?

“I don’t have a fan club,” he said.

She winked. “Right.”

He realized she was teasing. Of course she wouldn’t still be carrying around seven-year-old jealousy. “Hey, we’ve been in the woods for two days.”

“So I hear.” She patted the empty stool next to her, her smile dispelling the gloom that had settled over him that afternoon. “Have a seat.”

Steve swallowed. Why does she make me so weak?

He stepped toward her, stopping just short of his chest brushing her back as he settled onto the stool. A spicy, fruity scent washed over him, and his body hardened.

“You look really beautiful.” In fact, he had to curl his hands into fists to keep from stroking her shoulder.

“Thanks.” She grinned. “So do you.”

Ridiculously, he felt his face heat. “Thanks. Josh told me you’re covering the fire for some major magazine.”

“Yeah. I signed on with Century.”

He whistled. “I’m honored to think I was part of the test photos.”

“I do still have one of you in my portfolio.”

“No kidding?”

“Yeah. One of you, Josh and Tommy stumbling out of a plane after you’d just come off a two-day wildfire on the California–Oregon border.”

His heart lurched.

“I heard about Tommy,” she said quietly. “I’m so sorry. What happened?”

Oddly enough, despite her aversion to his job, it felt right sharing his pain with her. “The fire. A sudden wind.”

She closed her eyes briefly. When she opened them again, tears clung to her lashes. Her compassion reminded him why he’d fallen so hard. “Are you okay?”

He didn’t want to face his grief for Tommy now. He’d been wallowing in it for a week. He slid his hand around her waist. “I’m better now.”

She leaned back and gave him a wry look. “And still smooth as ever.”

Smiling, he gripped her side. “Why am I thinking that’s not a compliment?”

“But it is. And especially convenient for the available ladies of Fairfax.”

“And do you include yourself in that group?”

“Definitely not.”

Damn. “You’re married?”

“No. Just not available.”

“To me?”

“To anybody.” She polished off the pink contents of her martini glass. “Another cosmo, please,” she said to the smiling young bartender who appeared before her.

Steve ordered a beer. “Since when do you drink cosmos?”

“I have for years.”

Something was definitely up with a cosmo-drinking, sassy-mouthed, unavailable Laine. It’s been seven years, man. People change. Look at you.

He was challenged by her lack of interest in him. Because he was still interested in her? Or because she’d once been so dedicated to him?

Either way, it was probably a good idea to back off. At least for the moment. “How’s Aunt Jen?”

“Stubborn as ever. She doesn’t want to leave her house.”

“She may not have to.”

“Chief Arnold seemed to think differently when I was at base camp yesterday. You really believe she won’t need to leave?”

“We’re supposed to be thinking positively on the front line, but no. Evacuations will happen.” He accepted his beer from the bartender; Laine did the same with her cosmo. “If we don’t get some rain soon, the town is right in the fire’s path.”

She held up her glass. “Then a toast to rain. To Tommy.” Pausing, she met his gaze. “And to the rest of you staying safe.”

He tapped his mug against her glass. “To Tommy.” He wasn’t toasting himself. The reluctance he felt at every jump, every trip into the ravaged forest, made a mockery of the other teams’ bravery.

She sipped her drink, then puckered her lips and set the glass aside.

“Too strong?”

“No, it’s…fine. So, how’ve you been?”

He drank his beer, figuring at least they’d agree on the changes he’d made in his life. “I gave up smoke jumping and moved back home to Georgia a few years ago.”

Laine nearly fell off her stool. “You—What?”

“I went home, joined a regular firehouse, started saving cats from trees. I even bought a house.”

She couldn’t grasp it. “What about parachuting from planes into fire-choked forests? What about rappelling from helicopters? What about Italy and Greece? You had hiking, biking, scuba diving and who knows what else planned.”

“The farthest I’ve been from home in the last four years is Atlanta.”

Bad boy Steve had reformed? Settled down? Good grief.

“Did you get married?” she asked, still stunned enough to wonder what else she’d missed.

“No.”

“Have any kids?”

Leaning toward her, he grinned. “No. Are you volunteering?”

That brought back painful memories. When she’d been young and wide-eyed. When she’d thought she and Steve would get married someday, have a family together. Instead, he’d asked her to move in and made it clear he planned to be a smoke jumper until he was old and gray.

Going back there wouldn’t help, and she really didn’t want to go several rounds with him over the past. “But you are here working on the fires.”

“My old team called me when Tommy died. They asked me to fill in.”

He’d probably left home with skid marks. Settled down? No way. “And it’s great to be back.”

He drank his beer. “Oh, yeah.”

See, nothing had changed, her heart reminded her.

And even though her libido protested, she told herself that was a good thing. She didn’t want to want Steve. She had a job to do. A paycheck to maintain. An aunt to battle.

Still, she couldn’t deny how good it felt to sit next to him again. His wild, mischievous smile and confidence had thrown her for a loop from the beginning, but she’d soon learned there was much more beneath his beautiful face and body. He spoke three languages, had spent several years abroad, had a love of art and culture—and never passed up the opportunity to help little old ladies cross the street.

On top of her conflicting feelings, she was baffled by him flirting with her. Did he really want to pick up where they’d left off?

No way. Not a good idea. Her heart had taken too severe a beating the first time around.

“So you’re just back for the fire?”

“Yeah. My life is in Georgia now.”

“I thought your hometown was pretty small.”

“It is.”

“Not much action for an adventurous guy like yourself.”

“We get our share. Had a serial arsonist running loose last fall. That was pretty exciting.”

Action aplenty, even in rural Georgia. She’d been through wild, dangerous and adventurous with him before and hadn’t enjoyed the results. Now she needed those qualities in him for her assignment. How ironic was that?

“How about dinner tomorrow?” he asked suddenly, leaning close to her.

“Uh…no.”

“No?”

“Look, I’m sure we’ll run into each other over the next few days,” she said, leaning back. “And I’m sorry I kidded you with the fan-club crack earlier, but you have plenty of women lining up, so—”

“There’s no line.”

“Oh, they’ll come. Probably the ones at that table in the back that were glaring at me a few minutes ago.”

“Laine, nobody’s glaring at—”

“Hi, Steve.”

A curvy redhead stood next to him, her hand on her hip, her impressive chest thrown out.

Laine smirked at him before he turned to the other woman.

“Hi, Darla. Laine, do you know Darla?”

“No.” Laine waved and smiled. After all, her point had been made. “Hi.”

Darla smiled weakly in return, then focused on Steve. “Wasn’t dinner great the other night?”

“Yeah. Thanks for going to all that trouble. The guys on the team really appreciate the effort everyone in town has made for us.”

Steve’s neck had turned red. He looked uncomfortable at sharing a drink with one woman while talking to another.

Darla finally drifted away, and Steve turned back to her. “Sorry about that. She and some friends made dinner for our jump team a few nights ago and—”

“Hi, Steve.”

Laine bit her lip to keep from laughing.

This time the woman was a striking brunette with a sultry voice and, again, some impressive curves.

“Hi, Vivian. Do you know Laine?”

Vivian didn’t bother to do more than raise her eyebrows at Laine’s wave.

“We missed you Friday night,” she said to Steve.

“I was exhausted.”

Laine propped her chin on her fist and noticed a petite redhead waving at her from across the bar. Denise?

She had met fun, impulsive Denise the summer she’d lived in Fairfax. Her family lived next door to Aunt Jen. She and Denise had been together the night she’d met Steve in a Redding bar, had become great friends and stayed in touch ever since. Denise had come home to help her parents in case they needed to evacuate and, the night Laine arrived, caught her up on all the gossip over drinks.

She was the perfect escape from Steve.

“Excuse me,” Laine said. “I see somebody I need to speak to. Why don’t you two catch up.”

Steve stood, and Vivian’s eyes lit like sparklers. Clearly, she thought she’d scared Laine off.

As Laine’s feet hit the floor, Steve wrapped his hand around her wrist. “You’re coming back, right?”

Laine resisted the urge to fan herself at the intense, questioning look in his eyes. The man did know how to push her buttons. “I should go. I have to get up early…”

Steve scooped her camera bag off the floor and laid it on her empty stool. “I’ll just hang on to this till you get back.”

Holding her camera hostage? That was a new one. She really didn’t understand his insistence, especially with the likes of Vivian about, but she did want to talk to him about some shots of him and his jump team. Which she would do—briefly—before calling it a night.

“I’ll be back,” she said finally.

Vivian scowled. Steve smiled.

Crossing the bar, she stopped next to Denise, who hugged her tight. “I see the subject research is going well. Nobody else I’d rather see pictures of than Steve Kimball. Any chance of catching him naked?”

“No.”

Her eyes twinkled. “Please?”

Laine was having a hard time resisting the man’s charm when he was clothed. No way was she picturing him naked. “Definitely not. There’s nothing between us anymore.”

She frowned, her dark blue eyes narrowing. “Not even a spark?”