Wildfire Hurricane (A Ryder Boys Novel Book 1) (16 page)

Holy shit, she’s terrified.
He clamped his hands down on hers, but the strength needed to pry her loose failed him. “Damn it, Simone! I’m the risk-taker, not you. You’re needed here.”

“I don’t care.” A blubbering sob escaped her. “I’m not letting you go out there alone.”

Her stubborn refusal calmed his racing heart. He stole a kiss, then took her hand and pulled her toward the exit. “Don’t let go of me—no matter how bad it gets out there.”

She nodded and tightened her grip.

They found the crumbling remains of the front entrance. The tornado had dissipated, but the strong winds still threw debris in all directions. An orange glow lit the sky to their north, and distinct flames shot up in the south. Flaming branches and burning trash blew across the river and set fire to the grass.

Dash made some quick calculations, estimating distance and wind speed. “We’re surrounded.”

“That way?” Simone turned east, but he shook his head.

“We’ll never make it. The best we can do is hold up here and hope something stops it.”

“What if it—”

Lightning struck an abandoned car with a resounding crash, knocking them off their feet. Dash rolled over and slapped Simone’s ass. “Get inside! Go!” He pulled her up and practically hurled her into the building, chasing her down the hall to the studio.

They ran to the broadcast room and Dash slammed the door behind them. Expectant faces greeted him, waiting for some news, some hope.
I can’t crush it.
“We’re staying here.” A disappointed groan swept the room. “Hand over any extra clothes, jackets, shirts, anything. We’ll stuff them under the doors and in the vents to keep the smoke out.”

The news anchor took off his blazer and dress shirt while others passed whatever they could. Dash stood on a chair and shoved his fireproof shirt into a vent, leaving him in a t-shirt. “Get as comfortable as you can while we wait it out.”

The weather guy spoke up. “Is help coming?”

Dash kept stuffing the vent, unable to face the man. “I don’t know.”

Sobs and sniffles filled the room while evacuees and the news crew settled in, forming a circle along the walls. Simone sat on the floor in a corner facing the door across the room. Dash pushed someone’s tie into the vent, then jumped off the chair and joined her.

She sniffed and wiped her face with the back of her hand. “I’m sorry.”

Another confession?
“For what?”

“I lost your book.” Her shoulders heaved as she burst into tears.

He had to smile at that.

“It was in my jacket pocket. I left it with Flynn.”

He reached for her hand and pulled it across his lap, folding it in his. “Then it’s in a good place.”

She drew in a deep, shaky breath and sat up. “Are we?”

Chapter 16

She shouldn’t have asked him that. He couldn’t possibly come up with a positive answer. ‘No, we’re all going to die.’ Or worse, ‘Yes, I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.’

However short that will be.

“No.” His mouth made a firm line as he shifted to face her, sitting cross-legged on the floor.

Her heart raced.
What?
They’d been reunited after years apart, forgiven each other for stupid mistakes, and had even more stupid makeup sex.
How can that not be good?

“All that.” He waved a hand toward the door. “Stuffing the vents, under the door—all for show. To make people feel safe. To make me feel like I’ve done something when there’s really nothing I can do.”

His admission calmed and unsettled her at the same time. “I know.” She’d seen through his cool exterior and played along.

“I thought you did.” Dash’s warm hands embraced hers. “But that’s not what you asked, is it?” His gaze melted into hers, and he lifted her fingers to his lips. “I don’t know if where we are is good. We had hot as fucking hell sex—I did, at least—but you already told me that’s not enough.”

The sex had been unbelievably hot, better than anything they’d done before. Even their arguments had risen to epic levels. But they’d grown up and grown apart. “What we had back in high school is gone.” She pressed her lips together.

His grip tightened as if desperate to hold on to what had been. “Can we get it back?”

She had no doubt that they could, but would it last? “Do we want to?” She pulled a hand free and stroked the scar on his cheek.

His eyes squeezed shut and his mouth clamped tight. He seemed to be wrestling with the answer. “I want something better.” His steady gaze met hers. “With you. It’s always been you. You know that, right?”

It’s always been him.
Every other guy she’d met couldn’t compare to Dash. He’d been her friend, her lover, the one person she could count on to be real. The one person she’d never had to perform for, who’d still loved her when she did. “Since the moment Wyatt held up those rabbit ears.”

His eyebrows drew together. “Wait…when?”

“On the stairs.”

“You were staring at him?”

“And the half-dozen other guys doing the same thing. You looked like an escapee from the planet Bunny Hop.” She clapped her hand over her mouth to smother a giggle.

“Jesus Christ. All this time I thought I’d captivated you with my dashing good looks.” He arched an eyebrow and puckered his lips in a useless attempt to make a handsome face.

A full-blown snortle erupted from under her hand and she tipped sideways along the wall, laughing out loud.

Forrest McCoy—the half-dressed and nearly famous news anchor sitting beside them—cleared his throat.

Simone sat up and wiped her eyes. She’d needed that laugh. All the tension she’d been reining in for the last two days escaped her body in a rush, and she sighed. But much more serious thoughts chased away the lingering giggles. “I hope Cassie got out of town.”

Dash’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “What is it with you two? Just yesterday you were cat-fighting and now you’re best friends.”

“We’re hardly friends.” Simone scowled at the thought. “She fought hard, shot down every order I gave, but she saved our asses. She
earned
my respect.” As a colleague and forecaster. “But I still don’t like her.”

Dash shook his head as he moved to sit beside her, leaning back against the wall. “I never thought my ex and my…most recent ex could work together without killing each other.” He stretched his legs in front of him.

“She tried. I think I did too, but somehow we made it out alive. So far.” She stretched her legs alongside his and rubbed her sore knee. Cassie would survive, but Dash might not. “Why am I still your ex?”

***

He’d hoped she wouldn’t notice that, but the damn woman never missed a thing. “It’s just a word.” He babbled, searching for an explanation that wouldn’t get a fist to his gut. “Not even a whole one. It’s a prefix, something that comes before a word to change it—” He flinched as Simone raised her hand.

She pressed her finger to his lips. “Enough with the grammar lesson, R.H. Daschle.”

He kissed her fingertip. “Sorry, I’m stalling.”

“We don’t have time for that shit.” She withdrew her hand and tucked it around his arm.

Her hot touch put his mind to work. The temperature in the room had increased, hopefully due to so many people in close quarters, but more likely a sign that the fire had moved into the building. “You’re right, no more fooling around. The past is behind us, the present is you and me holding each other.” He laid his hand over hers and squeezed it tight as his thoughts raced ahead. Smoke first, then flames, and if they somehow escaped that…rebuilding. Everything. “The future is fucking scary.”

She rested her head on his shoulder and shuddered. “You’re not talking about the fire.”

“Hell no, this fire’s a pussy.” He felt her laugh. No, he hadn’t expected her to buy that, but damn if saying it hadn’t nearly given him wood. He slipped his arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. “You and me…if we live through this…”
Why if?
And why wait to love her? “No, right now. The amount of time we may or may not have is irrelevant.”

She leaned back and slid her hand along his jaw, turning his face to meet her. “Do you think we would’ve stayed together if Mal hadn’t fucked with us?”

Ah.
A question he didn’t have to wrestle with. “Yes, and I’ll tell you why.” He kissed her palm then smiled into her eyes. “I love you. I never stopped.” The promise he’d given her the first time they’d kissed came back to him. “I see the rest of my life in your eyes. I taste our future on your lips. Your heart pounds with mine. My life means nothing without you in it.”

“I love you too.” She cringed. “I’m going to tell you that more often, not just as a reply.”

He shook his head. “You don’t need to. I know. Back then I was so stuck on hearing the words that I couldn’t see all the ways you showed it to me. You warned me about the bat.”

She traced the scar with her fingertip. “It marked you for life.”

“You told me to get rid of the ball and save my ass.”

“But you wouldn’t sacrifice your team.”

Their ideas conflicted at the time, but now he understood just how much she’d done for him. “You made me a man.”

“Damn right.” She slid her hand down his thigh.

“I’m not talking about that.” He snatched her wandering fingers away from his crotch and clamped her hand over his heart. “I was a boy when we met, but you taught me how to grow up. I watched you take care of yourself when your family didn’t. I listened when you encouraged me not to take the blame for everything.”

She sat up with an exaggerated gasp. “Wow, you listened to me?”

“Hey, I’m trying to be deep here. If I’m a good leader—”

“What do you mean if?” She punched his chest.

“Stop, woman! All right, I’m a balls-out, badass leader because you pushed me.” Everything he’d become in the years they’d been apart, every truth he held dear—he got it all from her. “We’re here because of you.”

Sweat soaked their shirts, and she sniffed as if detecting the faint whiff of smoke that tormented his nose. “I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”

He slapped his palm over his face. “Never stop arguing with me.”

“For the rest of my life.” Her voice cracked.

His eyes stung and his mind raced to find a distraction. “Sing for me.”

“What?”

He forced a smile. “You know, ‘I was raised by a dog in the howling rain.’”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s not the words. They’re not even funny.”

“Dog? Howling rain? How is that not funny?”

Forrest groaned, and Simone shook her head.

“All right, you do it better.” He faked a pout, and she took the bait.
Why didn’t she see through that?

“I will. I was born…raised by a dog…damn it, you got me stuck on that.” She ran her hands over her face. “I can’t. I’m too scared.” She slid close, curling up against him. “All I can come up with is fire and death.”

Take her mind off our situation.
“Why do you always fuck up the words?”

She slipped her hand around his arm, clinging to him. “At first, I did it just to piss you off. After you left, I couldn’t listen to that song for years. A few summers ago, I heard it in a bar, and I couldn’t get away from it because I was with someone. So I listened to the song rather than his annoying drone. The words—whatever they are—didn’t make any sense, but I liked it anyway.” She sat up and wove her fingers with his. “You and me—we hardly ever made sense, but no matter what kind of bullshit we dealt with, we loved each other like fools. I guess part of me hoped we would again.”

“I did too.” His locked up heart had always searched for her, hoping he’d spot her in a restaurant or run into her around a corner.

“Now we’re finally together again. Like this.” She signed the word
screwed
and waved a hand at their dire surroundings. “Is this a cruel joke?”

Dash failed to recall the sign for
stumped,
so he shrugged instead. “Bad luck? Bad timing? Or just bad altogether?”

“Fucked up one side and down the other.”

He captured her hands again and faced her. “I’ll tell you one thing for certain. We’re gonna do it right this time. And for all time.” Whether they lived through this or not. He’d love her beyond death and back again.

“How?” Her grip tightened.

“No idea. But I won’t risk not giving us another chance.”

She tried to smile and failed. Then she wiggled her fingers free and touched his scar. “I already love you better than I did before.”

He curled a finger under her chin. “And I won’t give up. No matter how ugly things get.”

“It’s gonna get scary ugly.”

“I know.” Dash leaned forward and kissed her, sinking his hand in her hair as their lips sealed their promises.

Forrest coughed and scooted aside, but they ignored him, refusing to let go of that kiss. The ceiling creaked and crumbled, sending dust falling to the floor. Dash pulled her closer, sheltering her with his body.

Simone sat back a space. “But I
will
tell you I love you—every chance I get—whether you like it or not.”

Damn woman would argue with her last breath. “I like it.”
I could die a happy man, but not yet. Please, not yet.