Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Two days later, Lyndie readied for takeoff. Sunset had always been her favorite time of day, but this evening she didn’t take the time to enjoy it as she moved around her plane.
The fire in San Robledo had jumped the lines again. This afternoon it had taken out another ranch. Two ranchers had suffered serious smoke inhalation and were on a train to the closest hospital.
She flipped through the preflight papers on her clipboard, not really seeing any of it.
What she saw, out of the corner of her eye, was Griffin striding toward her, wearing soft, faded jeans and a white T-shirt she knew would have a firefighter logo over his left pec.
It offset his tan, telling her that whatever he’d been doing all week, it’d involved the sun.
There were other people milling around as well, but only Griffin stepped close, blocking her view of anything or anyone but him. Slowly she lifted her gaze from his long, tough body to his face.
He pushed his sunglasses up on his head. “So we’re doing this again.”
“Define this.”
A hint of a smile touched his mouth, though in his eyes she saw the tension. “I didn’t know it would be you.”
So he probably also didn’t know what had happened in San Robledo today, about the fire jumping the lines, the loss of both another ranch and his hard-earned containment. He wouldn’t take it easily. “Would you like a different pilot?” she asked.
He looked startled at that. “No. God.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Listen. I wanted to tell you I’m sorry for the way I acted Sunday night.”
She began to walk past him. “Forget it, I wasn’t any peach either.”
He stopped her with a hand to hers. “I can’t forget it. I didn’t even thank you—”
“There was nothing to thank me for.”
“Are you kidding? You were there for me every time I began to fall apart.”
“I said forget it.” She pulled her hand free. “People fall apart on me all the time. It’s because of where I take them, which is usually a world beyond what they know, and the things we see and do—”
He took her hand again, looked into her eyes. “So you kiss all your passengers?”
Uh… “No.” She squeezed her eyes shut to the memories reflected in his. “Griffin, I don’t want to do this now. I can’t do this now. Let’s just…start over, okay?”
“Lyndie—”
“Please.”
He hesitated, as if he wanted to say more, but finally nodded.
With one last long look that might have melted her if she’d been a melting sort of woman, he moved past her and got on board.
She watched him go, then rolled her eyes at herself for watching, and followed him, only to run smack into him when he stopped short.
Pulling her hands back quickly from where they’d landed on his back, she opened her mouth to ask him to use brake lights next time.
Then she saw what he was looking at.
The kitten sat curled up on one of the seats, fast asleep, looking deceivingly adorable for something that had destroyed her house in a matter of a short week.
Within the close confines of the plane, Griffin turned, shooting her a knowing look that also had quite a bit of heat in it. “You kept him.”
They were close enough to kiss, not that she was noticing. “No one else wanted him.”
“So you’re not attached at all. It’s just another humanitarian gesture on your part.”
“Except he’s not human,” she quipped. “I guess that makes it an animaltarian gesture.”
But he refused to let her joke her way out of this. “You’re looking me in the eyes and telling me you’re not attached,” he pressed.
Nope, not attached. And not even under the threat of death would she admit that she liked how Lucifer’s little kitty bowls looked on her bare kitchen floor, or that she didn’t mind sharing her bathroom with his litter box.
In fact, the thing had slept on her feet the past two nights, pouncing her well before dawn, attacking her if she so much as twitched in her sleep…reminding her with his every move that she wasn’t entirely alone. “That’s what I’m saying.”
“Liar,” he chided softly, and tugged on her hand until she stepped so close their toes touched. “Why can’t you just admit you’re attached to something?”
“Look, the thing eats more than he’s worth.”
“The thing? You haven’t even named it?”
“Sure. I call him Lucifer. Especially when he’s hanging off my curtains, swinging back and forth and hissing at me.”
Griffin scooped the little guy up against his chest and stroked him beneath his chin.
Lucifer mewled softly as he woke up and began to purr.
Purr!
Lyndie bit back her growl but couldn’t take her eyes off the sight of Griffin nuzzling the kitten, completely oblivious to the fact that he was coming off like a marshmallow. “Put the devil down and get ready for takeoff.”
Still cradling the cat, he let out one of those slow, sure smiles that had an annoying effect on her pulse. “If you’re so unhappy with him, why don’t you let me take him off your hands for you?”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“It’s the least I can do.”
Lyndie looked down at Lucifer, who was practically drooling in bliss and rapture, and felt her heart crack just a little, tiny bit. She couldn’t believe it, but somehow she’d actually grown fond of the little idiot. “I said I’d keep him.”
Lifting his free hand from Lucifer, Griffin stroked a strand of hair off her cheek. “Tough to the end, aren’t you,” he whispered. “Why is that?”
“I’m just…independent.”
“Have you really never let yourself lean on another person, ever?”
“Haven’t needed to, not since my grandfather died.”
“So you have it all covered, all by yourself.”
“Yep.”
He slowly shook his head. “Everyone needs someone once in a while. There’s no shame in that.”
“You want me to need you? Is that it?”
He stared at her, torn between saying “hell, yes” and backing away for fear of hurting her because he still had no idea where the hell his head was at. “I’m attracted to you,” he said quietly. “You know I am. But I don’t…”
“What? You don’t what?”
“I don’t trust my feelings,” he admitted..
“Yeah? Well, that makes two of us.”
“But I want to trust my feelings.” He shot her a wry grin when she just looked at him. “I take it you can’t say the same.”
“No. And don’t think I don’t see the irony. You’re willing to risk and I’m not. But leaning on you isn’t in my plans, Griffin.”
“What is?”
“I’ve been wondering that myself.” Her gaze met and held his, and she licked her lips in a nervous gesture that made him groan.
“God, Lyndie.” He touched her face, moved even closer. “I—”
Lyndie watched as another man stepped on board right then, one who looked shockingly like the man already standing there. Not quite as tall, and a little beefier, he shared Griffin’s see-all light blue eyes, sun-kissed light brown hair, and rugged facial features.
At the sight of him, Griffin dropped his hand from Lyndie’s face and sighed.
“I’ve got great timing, huh?” the man said with a grin.
Griffin set the kitten down on a seat. “Lyndie, meet my brother. Brody’s gotten himself invited to come along by promising Sam a whole plane of donated supplies. He thinks I need a keeper.”
“Nah.” Brody shook Lyndie’s hand with a charming smile. “What he really needs is a personality transplant.”
Lyndie, whose heart was still leaping from the almost-kiss with Griffin, found herself smiling. “I think I like you already.”
“You like him but not me?” Griffin said in disbelief.
“He’s quick,” Lyndie said to Brody.
“That’s my Grif, quick as lightning,” Brody agreed. “Mom always said it’s because she didn’t eat enough protein when she was pregnant with him. So really, it’s not his fault.”
Lyndie smiled, and it was a real one. “Are you really coming along?”
“Is that all right? I thought I could volunteer as well.”
“Are you trained?”
“Nah. Grif here, he’s the overachiever in the family. I’m not equipped for such tremendous dedication.” He toed Griffin’s bag at their feet. “His pack alone must weigh eighty pounds. That’s a lot of carrying.”
Lyndie glanced at Griffin, who wore a perfectly inscrutable look on his face.
“Actually, I’m skilled differently than my brother,” Brody said easily, and picked a seat kitty-corner behind her. “In a little bit of everything.”
“You mean in a little bit of nothing.” Griffin sank to a seat as well. “He majored in napping.”
“And that’s a fine skill, I might point out,” Brody said.
Oh, this was going to be very interesting, Lyndie decided. “You have any reason why leaving the country would be illegal?” she asked Brody.
“Not at the moment. Sam said it would be no problem.”
Lyndie checked her phone and indeed had a text message from Sam, approving Brody. “Well, then. Buckle up, boys, we’re in for a bumpy ride.”
Brody looked excited.
Griffin groaned.
And oddly enough, Lyndie found herself feeling alive—extremely, beautifully, vibrantly alive.
The weather for the flight behaved itself, and the night sky opened up in front of them, with mid to high humidity and little to no winds.
Perfect, for both flying and for the fire. But as if he’d read her mind, Griffin shook his head. “We won’t be so lucky in San Robledo.”
Lyndie glanced over at him. The cat was sprawled upside down in his lap, exposing his scrawny little body and full tummy for scratching, which had caused him to fall into a deep sleep.
“It could happen,” she said. She was not going to comment on her silly little kitten and how at home it was in his hands.
“And if it stays like this for a few days, we could get back to one hundred percent containment, no problem, right?”
“Get back to?” He tensed. “I thought it was contained.”
“The wind kicked up and the flames jumped the fire lines. It took out another ranch.”
“Jesus.” He looked devastated. “Anyone hurt?”
She didn’t want to tell him. “Two ranch hands suffered serious smoke inhalation, they’re on their way to the hospital.”