Free Flaming Desire - Part 2 (An Alpha Billionaire Romance) by Helen Grey

security as quickly as possible and then directed to the gate number where the plane waited.
    When we got to the gate, I saw two other men standing slightly off to the side, wearing the same dark blue T-shirt as I was, although their Hotshot crew emblem, like Matt’s, was a little different. The two men recognized us by our own dark blue T-shirts and nodded. We joined them, exchanging names and shaking hands. They were from the Southwest Interagency Hotshot crew out of Flagstaff, overseen by the Forest Service.
    I knew that just two years prior, their fellow Granite Mountain Hotshot crew had lost nineteen of its members, the greatest number of firefighters to die fighting wildfires in nearly eight decades. Only one member of that Hotshot crew had survived the huge Arizona fire when the winds shifted and engulfed his friends. In fact, the horrible tragedy had involved the greatest number of firefighter deaths since the FDNY lost over three hundred firefighters on 9/11.
    We had just completed introductions when the flight announced boarding. One of the boarding personnel at the airport approached us and told us to board first. We weren't charged for any carry-on baggage, and she assured us that our duffel bags would be stored near the front of the baggage area of the plane so that they could be offloaded quickly after our arrival at the airport in Montana.
    Matt gestured for me to go ahead, and I led the way as I walked through the gate and down the covered walkway toward the airplane, followed by three men who towered over me. Once again I felt a little self-conscious, but not unconfident. In fact, I was feeling quite comfortable. I wasn't a newbie at fighting wildfires and I carried myself with confidence and assurance that I would be able to tackle any job they gave me.
    The first couple of years on the Hotshot crews hadn't been easy, but I had proven myself. While I wasn't as strong as many of the guys, I made up for it in determination. In fact, the last time I had been out, I found myself able to outperform several of the other crew members on the team. It didn't take long for any attitudes or doubts from any of the other crew members to recognize my abilities or vice versa. Every member of the Hotshot crews was dedicated to one thing, and one thing only—dealing with wildfires. There was very little “attitude” among the members of any crew and most of us got along well together.
    Fighting wildfires didn't leave much time for conversation or getting to know people. In fact, the minute we landed, I was sure I’d be stepping into controlled chaos. We would be given assignments, and we would do the work, knowing that the person beside us would do his or her best to provide support. At the end of long days and nights, conversation with sparse. Shoveling a hot meal—if we were lucky—into our stomach and then getting some sleep were pretty much the only things that encompassed our thoughts when we did take a break.
    I was prepared for the primitive living conditions. I knew that a soft bed, showers, and fresh cooked meals would be nonexistent. Daily work shift averaged sixteen long, hard, exhausting hours, but sometimes longer. It all depended on which side of the line I would be assigned, the tasks I would be given, and of course, the size, ferocity and determination of the fire to jump fire lines and surge unabated through the wilderness. Protecting property was a major goal when it came to fighting wildfires. Sometimes, they were allowed to burn, depending on location and situation, as well as what had caused the fire in the first place.
    I didn’t know yet what had sparked this fire. A lightning strike, a carelessly thrown match or cigarette, or an unattended campfire. Right now, it didn’t really matter. The fire was being driven by wind, never a good thing. No rain forecast. Hot, dry weather… the bane of wildfire fighters around the world.
    A stewardess waited for us at the door of the airplane. She smiled