Free Never Too Hot by Bella Andre Page A

yet.
    “You need to leave. Now.”
    But she didn’t so much as flinch. Instead, her gaze was steady.
    “If you’re done with your whole big bad wolf thing, I really think you’ll feel better if we talk about what just happened.”
    She licked her lips. Her beautiful, full lips that had tasted like heaven.
    “No one knows about your nightmares, do they?”
    He didn’t answer, but that was only because he knew he didn’t need to. This woman sitting on his bed saw too much, her big green eyes taking in everything he didn’t want her to. Everything other people didn’t.
    “You were dreaming about the fire, weren’t you? The fire that did that to your hands.”
    The next thing he knew, she was getting off the bed and coming over to him. She picked up one of his hands, turning it over in her own small hands.
    “Are they still numb?” she asked softly. “Or can you feel this now?”
    She ran her finger lightly down the worst of the scars, the one that cut his palm in two.
    “I can feel that.”
    Her smile was big. Beautiful. Like a ray of sunshine was shooting in through the roof.
    She said, “Good. I’m glad,” and then, “What happened? Not tonight, but two years ago. When you got burned.”
    There was no reason to tell her about the fire. For two years he’d kept the story tightly locked inside. Had told himself that talking about it wouldn’t help a damn thing.
    But no one else had ever witnessed one of his nightmares. Only Ginger. She’d seen him at his worst.
    Fine. He’d give her the answers she was looking for. And he wouldn’t bother to spare her the gory details. When he was done, she’d regret that she ever asked.
    “Firefighters get burned all the time. Fire is a finicky bitch,” he said, not bothering to watch his mouth. If she didn’t like it, she could leave.
    “I wouldn’t think that makes it hurt any less, though.”
    A vision of the fire in Desolation rammed into him like an out of control train. Fire rolling over the mountain like a wave. Thick, dark smoke rising up into the sky, taking over the blue so completely that he could hardly see the narrow trail beneath his feet.
    “We were out in Desolation Wilderness, where my crew is based. I’ve hiked that trail a hundred times. My brother and squad boss were out clearing brush. The fire was nothing. We wanted a real fire, something to really sink our axes into.”
    But there hadn’t been another fire. Not for him, anyway. Whereas Sam had gotten right back out there. Connor would have done the same thing if it had been Sam lying there on a stretcher. He would have headed straight back in to get his revenge. To strangle the fire with his bare hands for taking down his own blood.
    “What happened? How did the fire change into something worse?”
    It was the question he’d asked himself a thousand times. “The wind must have shifted. Dropped a spark. Logan saw it first, realized we were on top of the fire. First thing you teach a rookie, fire goes up. Ninety-nine percent of the time it’ll outrun you. Logan should have saved himself. Instead he hiked down the hill to get me and Sam. Told us to drop everything and start running.”
    Jesus, he still remembered that moment so well. He was running his chain saw through a huge clump of dry brush, his entire focus on blade cutting through wood. From the corner of his eyes he thought he saw Sam waving his arms and cut his engine. Sam put his chain saw down and said two words. “A blowup?” Logan nodded and without saying anything more, the three of them started running straight up a near-vertical slope.
    “We were swallowing dirt and sparks, running through piles of white ash. I started coughing and they slowed to make sure we stayed together, but even then we still thought we were going to sit around with the guys and laugh about it at the bar that night.”
    His breath came fast. Sweat started to drip between his pecs.
    Ginger was squeezing his hand, now, and the feel of her soft skin