“I assure you my office wasn’t fancy. Just… I wasn’t making fun of you being a smokejumper. It’s just a dangerous profession. That’s all.” Her attitude was as locked and loaded as mine. We were going nowhere fast.
The stare she offered was harsh. Then again, so was mine.
“Maybe we could cut the sarcasm down a couple notches,” I suggested.
“We could try.” The anger slowly faded and she shifted her heated gaze away sheepishly. That allowed me to take and enjoy a longer look. “Being a smokejumper is admirable.”
She was all woman now. Every curve perfectly rounded. Her long legs meant for stalking a runway or being wrapped around a man’s torso. And her breasts were perfectly suited for my hands.
What the hell was I doing, envisioning her riding me as I used to do with an angry bull? Fuck, an ache had developed behind my eyes.
“Yeah, it is. To answer your question. I had to find a career after being tossed around like a ragdoll by a bull. I bet that madeyour father very happy. Any other questions you need to grill me about?” There it was again, the anger reserved more for her father, including with him convincing the city council wildfire planning wasn’t necessary. Apparently neither was additional funding for the local fire department team, who were stretched thin. But that wasn’t her fault.
Goddamn it, what was I doing? Maybe the captain was right. I was enraged by the entire world around me.
Looking at her standing barefoot, her wet hair clinging to her face, I was reminded of the fact she’d come damn close to losing her life.
I’d seen hurt in her eyes when I’d barked like a dog before. Her expression of being wounded lingered but was slowly being edged out by her determination to hate me. I’d seen that look before as well. Just seconds before she’d slapped my face, called me a worthless human being she never wanted to lay eyes on again, and had walked away and out of my life.
The craziest thing was at the time I thought I was doing the right thing.
She’d left for school after that and while I’d known she’d been in town a few times over the years, I’d made certain I hadn’t accidentally run into her. Now I knew I’d done the right thing. Why? Because I couldn’t keep my sinful thoughts in a dark cave.
“I’m sorry, Kenzie. That was shitty of me. I’m not used to having people around right now.”
“Yes, it was. I guess I was right all those years before about you. When do you think I can get out of here? There must be a way. A helicopter? A plane? I’ll climb down the mountain if I need to.”
Her determination to get the hell away from me brought a smirk to my face. I also noticed the way she looked in my sweatpants and tee shirt and it was impossible not to feel a sense of concern as well as hunger.
“I’d kind of like to see you try.” My words brought a roll of her eyes.
She stared out the picture window in the kitchen, narrowing her eyes as if searching for a way out. When I moved toward her, she heard the noise and backed away. “Trust me. I’ll be happy to get out of your space as soon as possible. I just… don’t have a way by myself. And I hate that.”
Stopping a few feet from her, I nodded to the glass held white-knuckled in her hand. “I call a truce. Would you like another drink?” I held my hand out for her glass, lifting my eyebrows and allowing her to make the choice. If I’d learned anything about her from our youthful days, it was that no one told Kenzie Sterling what to do.
At least without a tongue lashing.
“Sure. I mean yes, I would. Thank you.” With her grip still firm, she lifted her arm.
While I’d like to say I hadn’t meant for our fingers to touch, I’d be lying even to myself. I longed to feel the softness of her skin against mine even if it was only with the use of our fingers. What I hadn’t anticipated was the spark of chemistry that could only be described as razor-sharp electricity.
She felt it as I did at the exact same second, only she pulled her hand away as if burned. That was a telling statement. The resentment she’d felt eight years before continued to stand firm. Maybe her feelings had grown even stronger. Could I blame her?
With a heavy exhale, I returned to the bottle, refilling the glass.
“Why the name Axe?”
“The guys on the team made fun of the way I used an axe to clear brush. They started calling me the axe man then it was shortened. Kinda prefer it. Stephen was somebody else.” I waited before turning around, hating the fact my hands were clammy.
“I didn’t know you were injured with the rodeo.”
“I’m surprised your father hadn’t thrown a huge party celebrating the ending of my career.”
“If he did, he certainly didn’t tell me. You were something special,” she said, quickly glancing away. “I remember by the time you turned nineteen, you’d won ten Challenger Series events. Didn’t you finish number two that year?”
I was surprised she remembered my stats let alone the year. “The old glory days.” After that, I’d had a few rough years, namely because my mother had fallen ill and we thought we were going to lose her.
“It was great to see you had a comeback. When were you injured?”
