Free Slow Burn (Smoke Jumpers) by Anne Marsh Page B

all you’re worth and humping your ass over rough ground, there’s an advantage to being big. Because that’s where you’re going with this, aren’t you?”
    Possibly . She looked away, focusing her attention on her plate.
    “I support equal opportunity as much as anyone,” he continued. “But out there, on ground zero, you have to keep up. You pull your weight, and you hold your own, or the fire eats you alive, Faye.”
    They chewed in silence. She couldn’t tell if the lack of talking was awkward or companionable, but at least the food was good. Toward the end of the meal, when someone dragged out a cooler filled with ice and beer, the guys on the duty list came in for plenty of teasing. On-duty meant the beers were off-limits—and meant more beer for the rest of the crew, who popped the caps enthusiastically.
    Rio Donovan dropped down onto the log on the other side of her, trading her a beer for the empty Coke can. She wrapped her fingers around the cold bottle that was the perfect antidote to the summer heat
    Rio certainly didn’t waste any time. He cut right to the chase. “You staying in town?”
    Her keys burned a hole in her pocket. “Evan told you about what I saw yesterday on my way into town?” Had Evan told his brother about the deal he’d proposed?
    “Yeah.” Rio watched her. He had to be, she decided, one of the most beautiful men she’d ever seen. Too bad he didn’t do it for her, because he seemed like the playful type, like a big golden cat you wanted to stroke. “My brother said he asked you to stick around some while we figure this thing out.”
    “You don’t look alike,” she said, avoiding his statement.
    “We don’t,” he agreed. “We adopted each other. We share a lot of things but not a gene pool. Too bad for Evan.”
    Evan raised his soda can in mock salute at the light tease in his brother’s voice.
    “Jack, too?” This was none of her business. But she wanted to know.
    “The three of us,” Rio confirmed. He took a lazy sip of his beer. “God, that’s good. Too bad you’re on call tonight, Evan. You’re missing out here. Jack, Evan, and I met up when we were kids. We stuck together, and eventually we ended up out here in Strong with Nonna. She made things formal. Adopted us. And we all lived happily ever after.”
    Three brothers. All adopted. There was more story here. Plenty more. Evan didn’t look particularly interested in filling in those blanks, however. He just sat there silently next to her, playing big and gruff.
    She was out of conversation and about to plunge in where she had no business going when Jack Donovan showed up, handing around a stack of photos. Her photos. Sometime in the last couple of hours he’d managed to have them printed up. For a few minutes, everyone got busy trying to pick out identifying details.
    “No one’s admitted to being on scene before Evan.” Jack turned his photo over in his hand, as if maybe there was a secret code on the back. “You saw just the one guy, right?”
    They’d been over this before. More than once. She raised her bottle in silent agreement.
    “Maybe five foot ten with those boots on.” Rio tossed that nugget out there.
    Evan nodded, like his brother was reading from his Pulitzer-prize-winning essay. “One-fifty. Possibly one-sixty. Nicely built, but on the wiry side. White guy, from what I see of him.”
    “Yeah. He was into covering up, wasn’t he?” Despite the fire’s heat and the sweat-inducing summer temps, the firefighter in her pictures was dressed head to toe. Between the jeans and the long-sleeved work shirt, the bandana and the cap, he’d bared only his forearms. Tanned and fit, he hefted the shovel easily, his head turned away from her lens.
    “Hell.” Jack ran a hand over his head. “There isn’t that much to work with here. He could be almost anyone.”
    “We can rule out Evan,” Rio pointed out, swapping his photo for Jack’s. “This guy’s not that damned big. Congrats,”