Page 29 of Burnin' For You
Not the dark-eyed glare of an angry woman. “What was that?”
“Um—”
“I can take care of myself. I don’t need you coming to my rescue.”
“I didn’t—I mean—”
“You don’t have to protect me, Reuben. Really. Okay?”
He didn’t know why, but standing in front of her, he felt a little stripped. Raw.
And simmering with the primal urge to do just that—protect her.
Shoot. Just when he thought he’d done something right.
“Okay.”
Her posture softened. “Good. See you onboard.”
Then she walked past him.
So much for escaping awkward, for fixing things. Thank the heavens he had a fire to jump into.
So maybe she didn’t need to be quite so defensive.
It was simply in Reuben’s genes to protect his team.
If she hadn’t figured that out before, she sensed it last night when he’d taken her in his arms, stared down at her with a gaze that could reach right through her, steady her.
And when they’d fallen, he’d secured his strong arms around her.
It could happen to anyone—getting their feet tangled. She’d fallen plenty of times on the dance floor. And it wasn’t his fault that he had resurrected her demons.
But now, as she stood at the entrance to the team locker room watching him suit up, it occurred to her that Reuben might be the kind of man who could, well, keep those demons from haunting her.
Strong enough to chase them away, if she let him.
She turned away, but not before she took in his wide shoulders, muscled arms, a sculpted chest that tapered down to a trim waist, strong legs. He wore a deep coffee-brown beard, his hair tousled and behind his ears, now tied back with a dark red bandanna.
When he suited up, Reuben appeared raw, rough edged.
The kind of guy to look at fire and not flinch.
The kind of guy who couldn’t help but stand up for the people he cared about.
Yeah, she’ddefinitelybeen too defensive.
Don’t let your fears—or your failures—tell you who you are or who you can’t be. Or who you can’t be with.Juliet in her head.
Oh, she was readingwaytoo much into how he’d toed up to Miles on her behalf. After all, who else knew about his airsickness? Maybe he reallywouldn’tget into a plane without her at the controls.
Her gaze fell on Kate now pulling on her Kevlar jump pants and jacket. She turned up the collar, then checked for her 150-foot rappelling letdown rope in the leg of her pants, padded by motocross-style shin guards. She’d drastically cut down on her jumps this summer, but with the teams fresh off a fire, maybe she’d volunteered.
Kate also fitted a small tent and sleeping bag in her suit, something Jed had taught her years ago, during her training in Alaska.
Her helmet with the mesh grid sat on the bench beside her. She laced up her boots—heavy duty with the thick sole for trekking through ash and cinder.
In her hundred-pound personal gear bag, she’d have water, her fire shelter, a GPS, her radio, an extra pair of socks, toothbrush and paste, a first aid kit, headlamp, a few energy bars, tent stakes, bear spray, and her favorite spoon.