Burn Zone, page 19
part #1 of Hotshots Series
Once they were fully briefed on the mission at hand, they had only a few minutes to finish their prep before they were loading up the plane and cross-checking each other’s parachute rigging. Linc had his usual pre-jump scowl firmly in place, and he was even more dictatorial than usual. Jacob was willing to concede some control in deference to his nerves, but it was still irritating, the way Linc still seemed unable to trust him, even after all these weeks.
And he should. The jump went fine, Jacob landing correctly, hitting the target zone without issue and not landing too hard either. The start of their work was also straightforward, no need for Linc to be barking orders like Jacob was inches from screwing up. If anything, Linc being tense made Jacob even more so, made him more aware of each movement. Each tree he felled, each action, each reaction felt more weighted with Linc’s scrutiny. Thus, it was probably inevitable that he did screw up, sliding down a tree he was supposed to be climbing, narrowly avoiding a tumble.
“Watch it!” Eyes narrowed, Linc looked more angry than concerned. “I said go slow. Those branches look weaker than I like. Damn it.”
“I’m fine.” Testing, Jacob stretched, grateful his shoulders didn’t seem too worse for the wear.
“Let me do it.”
“I can handle myself.” Jacob brushed himself off, even as Linc was scrambling ahead of him, completing the maneuver himself. And from that moment on, Linc kept coddling him, rushing to do things before Jacob could, shouldering the lion’s share of the work, and generally making a pest of himself. But Jacob couldn’t call him on it, not with Garrick right there. And Garrick was just as bad. Any remotely dangerous task and one of them was there first, almost like they’d coordinated ahead of time. And maybe they had. But he couldn’t demand answers, not with the fire bearing down on them, every minute critical. They didn’t have time to waste arguing.
So, he pushed it down, but by the time they were packing out, heading to the extraction point, he was seething, emotions thicker than the smoky air surrounding them and temper hotter even than his sweat-soaked skin. Their gear and exertion and weather had combined to make him count down to his shower. But not before he could speak his mind.
“Would it be so awful if you guys let me actually work?” he finally asked, unable to wait any longer, immediate danger past as they met the old logging road that would lead them up and out of the path of the fire.
“Yup.” Garrick gave him a good-natured pat. “You did good, Rook. But don’t get ahead of yourself.”
“Felt like you guys were babying me. If it’s a matter of experience, you have to let me gain some.”
“All in good time.” Garrick couldn’t have been more fake-nice if he were a Hollywood talent-show judge, and Linc was ominously quiet, letting Garrick do the justifying. “We’ve got you here to keep you safe, and that’s priority one.”
“Wait.” Jacob whirled on them, eyes locked on Linc’s. “You’ve got me here? It wasn’t just luck of the draw? You asked for me?”
Damn it. Linc had strongly implied it was simply shit luck. And if Jacob couldn’t trust him to be honest, then who could he? He’d figured that at the very least Linc could be straight with him. But it totally fit that he’d have some sort of rescue complex about keeping Jacob out of harm’s way. Hell, he’d probably promised his mom too, and that promise likely meant more to Linc than anything with Jacob. And fuck but that left him feeling like he’d downed a gallon of pickle brine, all sour stomach and bitter mouth.
“Yeah, we asked.” Garrick rolled his eyes like this was no big deal. “And don’t get me wrong, you’re not bad for a rookie—you’ve got the stamina of five veterans, but you’ve got to get over this stubborn streak. You almost fell because you weren’t listening to Linc to go cautious. If you’re not going to listen, then yeah, we’re gonna take over. Turning into the Dark Knight solo act might have worked back on the ground crew, but we’re—”
“A team. Exactly. We’re a team. I’m not trying to go it alone, but you’re not using me. You’re coddling me. All for what? Some obligation to Wyatt? Feeling like I can’t hack it?”
“That’s not—” Linc started to talk but was cut off by the arrival of the trucks that would take them back to the fire command.
Damn it. Jacob was still angry as he climbed in the truck, not caring which one of them rode next to him. Fuck them. He was pissed that Linc had all but lied to him about how he landed on their crew. Pissed that Garrick was acting like some entitled big brother. Pissed at himself for almost screwing up.
Linc ended up the one next to him, but Jacob let him stew in silence. He didn’t need to let the firefighters driving the trucks in on their business, and he wasn’t sure he trusted himself to not bring the personal into it, not with how mad he was.
“We going up again?” Evidently in no hurry to finish their argument either, Linc headed right for Sims at the fire command, helping to coordinate all the various efforts.
“Nope. Fire’s looking fairly contained for now. Ground crews holding the line. Good work.” Sims nodded at all of them. “We’re sending you back to catch a shower and some sleep. If we need you to go again, it’ll be tomorrow, but we’re optimistic that the worst is behind us.”
Cue another tense ride, this one back to Painter’s Ridge with other smoke-jumper crews that had completed their jumps. He took advantage of the chaos to catch a ride in one of the other trucks with Kelley, listening to her recount a thrilling jump and close call with a chainsaw. But he made damn sure to catch up with Linc in the base parking lot.
“So much for you not asking for me to be on your crew, huh?” He’d waited until others were out of earshot, but his anger had run out of patience. They were having this out.
“I said I didn’t ask. Wasn’t a lie.” Eyes hard, Linc kept his voice even. “What Garrick or Ray did...that’s their business.”
“But you didn’t tell them no. And you seem to have had some sort of... I don’t know...pact to keep me safe. Which means not letting me do my fucking job.”
“I told your mom—”
“I knew it. Fuck it, Linc. Why are your promises to everyone else more important than me?”
“It’s not like that.” Linc’s eyes shifted, more pained than angry now, not that Jacob gave a fuck right then about his pain. “I owe—”
“Me. How about you owe me?”
“You? What promises have I made you?” Linc’s whole face pinched like he was thinking extra hard. But apparently not hard enough.
“If I have to tell you... Forget it.” Jacob threw up his hands. “But maybe you could start with basic respect. The same respect you’d give anyone else on the crew. You wouldn’t be rushing to do their work for them. Wouldn’t be freaking out with each jump either. Why am I different?”
With his eyes, he dared Linc to tell him he cared. That Jacob was different because of who they were to each other and not any stupid promises he’d made other people.
But Linc merely shook his head. “Told you. I owe—”
“Fuck what you owe, Linc. I’m done with being Wyatt’s little brother. So fucking done.”
“Hold on—”
“Save it.”
“Damn it, Jacob. This isn’t the place for this talk.” Gaze darting around the nearly empty parking lot, Linc dropped his voice. “How about you come over later?”
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea. Not tonight.” If he went to Linc’s, they’d end up fucking. And fucking meant feeling things he didn’t want, not right then. Fucking meant not fixing a damn thing. And it let Linc off the hook too damn easy. Linc had been the one throwing up walls lately. He didn’t get to play peacemaker now. He could damn well wait for Jacob to calm down.
“I suppose you’re right.” Linc nodded sharply. “Probably for the best—”
“Fucking hell, Linc. You that eager to see the last of me? I’m taking the night off. Not the whole damn summer.” Although part of him knew that would be the sane thing, just let it end here, but he couldn’t. Wouldn’t. He might be pissed but he wasn’t giving up on Linc until he was forced. But fuck it all, it looked like that point might be sooner rather than later.
“Okay. Guess I’ll see you when you cool down.” Sorry must not have been part of Linc’s vocabulary because he continued to regard Jacob warily, like he was angry for no good reason, and that just made Jacob that much more upset, back muscles tensing and head pounding.
“Yeah. You will.” With that, he strode away to his own truck before he could say something he’d truly regret. He wasn’t giving up on Linc, wasn’t giving up on them, but it wouldn’t kill Linc to fight back, to fight for them. And to maybe see Jacob as anything other than Wyatt Hartman’s annoying little brother and a fucking obligation. Damn it all. Jacob might as well wish to lasso the moon than to think he could change Linc.
Chapter Seventeen
Linc wasn’t going to stop caring about Jacob. He couldn’t. And caring about Jacob meant caring about the promises he’d made others. Simple as that. And yet, as Linc passed a long, sleepless, Jacob-less night, his principles were miserable bedfellows. One couldn’t exactly snuggle a moral certainty that keeping Jacob safe was more important than making Jacob happy. But damn if Linc didn’t wish he could have both. Both Jacob safe and Jacob right here, next to him, smiling the way he always did when sleepy and satisfied.
And Jacob had said it was only for tonight, not a permanent thing, but it sure felt permanent when Jacob still hadn’t answered a text Linc had sent hours ago.
You okay? You get some food? And don’t forget to hydrate after that long pack-out.
Not apologizing. Linc couldn’t do that, not when he wasn’t sorry about wanting to keep Jacob safe at all costs. But he’d tried to extend a hand anyway. Fucking lot of good it did. Ignoring their mats, the dogs were both occupying Jacob’s half of the bed, and he didn’t have the heart to kick them out. And how the hell had he gone from never going to touch Jacob to him having a side of the bed?
Right when he was about to give up pretending he might sleep and go hammer out some exercises, his phone buzzed.
I ate. Soup from a can. You can lecture me about it later. And yeah, tanked up on the fluids.
Linc seized the opening like a kid trying to catch butterflies, dashing off a fast and probably pointless reply, but he couldn’t not send anything.
Good. Maybe if we don’t have a callout tomorrow, I can make you that chicken you liked last time?
The wait for a return message felt like decades, but was actually gratifyingly quick. The one with rosemary?
Smiling for the first time in hours, Linc typed faster. That one. Got some potatoes to use up too.
Guess we can’t have them go to waste. Jacob’s reply buzzed a few moments later, not exactly enthusiastic but as close to a yes as Linc was likely to get.
Nope. Dogs will be happy to see you. His chest hummed, an almost electric sensation, a giddiness at knowing he hadn’t fucked things up with Jacob beyond repair. Even if the sane thing would be to let it end here, he simply wasn’t ready.
Just the dogs? Jacob added a head-scratching emoji. And Linc almost had to literally scratch his, trying to figure out how to answer. He didn’t want to be desperate or needy, but damn, he did miss Jacob, and couldn’t lie.
Not just the dogs.
Jacob sent him another emoji in response, this one sleeping. Just checking. Get some sleep.
And finally feeling settled for the first time all damn day, Linc was able to follow orders, falling asleep to thoughts of cooking for Jacob sometime soon, making things right the best he could. But the next day, on the drive to the air base, the doubts returned. Were they back to normal? Was Jacob still pissed? How the hell was he supposed to both keep Jacob safe and give him the respect he demanded?
Still deep in thought, he almost bumped into Garrick on the way into the headquarters building.
“Sorry.”
“No problem. The rook still pissed?”
“Not sure.” Linc had to work hard to keep the defensiveness from his voice. And no way was he sharing the late-night text exchange as proof of Jacob’s mood.
“Well, he’ll just have to get used to us caring.” Garrick clapped him on the shoulder.
“Yeah,” Linc said, but his mouth twisted. He wasn’t sure which way to feel about being lumped in with Garrick. Because he did care, too damn much, but it sure wasn’t the same as whatever casual meaning Garrick was giving the word. Garrick cared about everything—his elderly neighbor, the people they worked with, his friends—but nothing terribly deeply. Nothing in common with this soul-deep ache Linc got at the mere mention of Jacob’s name.
“Speaking of rookies...” Garrick steered Linc into an empty hallway that led to the offices. They were both a few minutes early for the morning meeting. “Have you heard the latest? Apparently, it’s a-okay to hook up with crew members now.”
“What?” Linc legit sputtered the word, and his knees wobbled. What the fuck had Garrick heard? Who had talked? Or worse seen? His mind raced, trying to think of a response that might do some damage control.
“I take it that’s a no.” Garrick laughed. Fucking laughed. Like this was no big deal. “Apparently, McKenna and Kelley have been hooking up on the sly. And so since apparently that’s the thing to do—”
“What?” This time Linc had to blink. This wasn’t about him and Jacob? Just idle gossip?
“Yeah. That was pretty much my reaction too. But they must have hooked up the night of Jacob’s birthday party. And kept going. Anyway that’s not what I wanted to talk about.”
“It’s not?” Damn. His pulse sped up.
“No. I’ve been thinking... If Sims and Alder let McKenna and Kelley get away with it, maybe I might see what the rook is up for. After the season of course. Because I’m not looking for that much trouble.”
“You want to do what?” Linc swallowed hard. Garrick wanted to date Jacob?
“Life is short. He’s out. And it’s been less of an issue than I would have predicted. Doesn’t hurt that he’s damn good at the job. Even if he is stubborn.”
“And that makes you want to hook up? With him?”
“You don’t have to look so shocked. You know I’m pan. He’s hot. Which you can’t claim not to know. Which brings me back around to why I’m even having this conversation with you. Wanted to make sure I’m not encroaching on any...plans you might have in that area.”
“I don’t have plans,” Linc said reflexively as his mind spun. Since when was Jacob being hot the answer to Garrick’s boredom or whatever the hell this was? His fist tightened, gut roiling at the notion of Jacob as a convenient good time.
“Great. I mean, you guys have been dancing around each other for years. I can’t be the only one who’s noticed that. And you can’t tell me you’re blind to it yourself. But lately you guys seem more like friends.”
A strangled laugh escaped Linc’s mouth. Friends. He might not have plans, but he for damn sure knew they weren’t friends.
“Oh, fuck. Are you guys...?” Garrick’s eyes went wide.
“No.” The harsh denial was out even before Garrick finished the question. His already agitated stomach burned now, a caustic pit of guilt and shame. This was Garrick, whom he’d known for years now, almost as long as Wyatt, and had trusted him with his life more than a few times. If anyone deserved his truth, it was Garrick. But he couldn’t confess. Not now. And truth was, he’d be gone come fall. If Garrick and Jacob wanted to hook up... God, he couldn’t even form the thought without bile rising in his throat.
“Well, okay then.” Garrick’s head tilted, expression saying he didn’t quite believe Linc. “So okay if I sniff around?”
“I—”
“Sims wants to see us.”
He whirled around, and oh, holy fuck. Jacob was right there behind Linc. And judging by his winter-storm eyes and pursed mouth, he’d clearly heard more than he should.
“Jacob—” He reached for his arm but Jacob shook him off.
“Save it. We’ve got a job to do.” Jacob pushed by both of them, disgust rolling off him in toxic waves that almost choked Linc.
“Well, now. This is a mess.” Garrick shook his head, but before Linc could speak, Sims called down the hall at all three of them.
Probably just as well. He didn’t know how he’d planned to try to explain something he had no good answers for, what he could say to Garrick that might correct whatever conclusions he’d jumped to. And fuck, what a mess was right. Honestly, though, he was less concerned about Garrick and more about catching Jacob, trying...
Trying what? To make this right? Or was this where they ended? Line in the sand, their heat finally extinguished, this time for good by Linc’s own stupidity. Fuck. Doing the right thing for Jacob might damn well kill him.
* * *
Somehow Jacob got through his shift without having to talk with Linc or Garrick beyond the bare minimum necessary to do the work. With Linc, there seemed to be an unspoken agreement that they were having it out after work in private. And with Garrick...who the fuck knew? He hadn’t overheard his whole conversation with Linc, but he’d heard enough. Enough to be beyond pissed with both them. Far too angry to stop and marvel at the revelation that apparently Garrick was pan and not opposed to banging him. Which might be flattering if it wasn’t comical. Garrick was too tall. Too much of the sort of dude-bro top Jacob usually steered clear of. Too casual, nothing ever serious. Too not Linc.
Mainly that. Garrick wasn’t Linc, wasn’t ever going to be, and so his interest was more funny than anything else. All these years of not finding much in this town and now the only opportunity he truly wanted was the one he wasn’t supposed to have. With the dude who didn’t even care enough to speak up for him, who couldn’t even admit for a second that what they had was significant, worth fighting for. Hell, he couldn’t even admit that they’d been seeing each other at all, even casually, or even suggest that he might be interested in Jacob in that way. Nope. Only a flat denial of every damn one of Jacob’s hopes.
