A Cowboy Firefighter for Christmas (Smokin’ Hot Cowboys #1)

“You’ll need boots next time.”

“Next time!” She looked over at him in horror. Mistake. She felt her mouth go dry. The sun spotlighted him as he raised blackened towels and struck downward. Powerful muscles in his back, shoulders, and arms gleamed with sweat and rippled with exertion. As if he’d been swimming, his faded jeans were plastered to his taut butt and long legs. She shook her head to dispel his image, but nothing helped put out the fire that now burned inside her.

“There’s always a next time.” He tossed a slightly crooked smile her way as he lifted towels to extinguish more flames.

“Oh no.” She hadn’t come all this way to get distracted by the first hot guy who literally crossed her path—even if he did flag her down with his shirt. She particularly didn’t need to get involved with one who was into Christmas and dragged her into fighting a grass fire in the middle of nowhere. She didn’t want to ever put out another fire. This was a onetime deal to help out a man in an emergency and stop a prairie fire from eating up acres instead of one grassy swath. In the future, she would leave firefighting to the experts.

Besides, she was here on business. Texas Timber had hired her as an independent troubleshooter to find out who had burned down one of the company’s Christmas tree farms, and possibly caused other problems. She’d been warned not to trust anybody in Wildcat Bluff County. Now, first thing, she was involved with a local. A really hot local. She couldn’t hold back a soulful sigh. At least she might excuse her interest in Trey as simply business since he might be helpful in her investigation.

“You’re a deputized firefighter now,” he said.

“That can’t be legal.” She attacked the grass with renewed energy. They were actually making good headway now.

“If there’s trouble, everybody pitches in.”

“Police? 9-1-1?”

“We’re the first responders.” He struck hard at the ground with his towels.

“There must be a county sheriff. Highway patrol.”

“And the Wildcat Bluff Police Department.” He stomped at the blackened grass. “How long do you think it’d take help to get here?”

“Good point.”

“We all depend on the Wildcat Bluff County Volunteer Fire-Rescue.”

“That’s why you deputized me? I’m a total stranger! I could have been—well, big trouble. I actually thought you were, at first.”

“But you aren’t,” he said with another charming grin.

She couldn’t resist cracking a smile back, even despite the circumstances. She shrugged, beginning to understand that life out here was different than in the city.

Sweat trickled down her body. Soot tasted bitter in her mouth. Sunlight beat down on her head. If she came out of this with nothing more than sunburn, she’d be lucky. Yet, that didn’t matter. She was helping stop a fire. She was saving lives and property. She was taking a step toward recovery.

As the flames dwindled in size and scope, she edged toward him. Soon they worked side by side, putting out the remaining hot spots. He loomed well over six feet and made her feel diminutive, even at her perfectly respectable five seven.

Finally, he stopped and stretched his back.

“Fire’s out?” She wanted him to confirm what she saw with her own eyes.

“Yep. Looks good.” He scuffed his boots across the crusty grass. “Can’t thank you enough. If you hadn’t come along when you did—”

“You’d have thought of something.” She interrupted to keep him from saying another word. His melodic voice with the deep Texas drawl couldn’t help but put her in mind of hot, sweaty bodies sliding across cool, satin sheets.

“I needed a miracle and prayed for one the minute I saw the fire.” He walked over to her. “I heard my answer in your car coming down the highway. I headed back to the road, running flat out. And there you were in your pure white SUV, looking so cool and unafraid of the wild man pounding on your window. You had a miracle in your car. Towels. Not many people would have had them just waiting on a backseat.”

She didn’t feel so cool and unafraid. Who had this guy been looking at? Still, his words made her swell with an unusual type of pride. “Like I said, I always do. Just in case.”

He clasped both towels in one hand, and held out the other. “Thank you. You’re my Christmas angel.”

“Just plain Misty Reynolds.” She shook his hand, feeling his strength, his heat, his calluses.

“Pleased to meet you.” He rubbed the back of her hand with his rough thumb, and then slowly released her. “Like I said, I’m Trey…Trey Duval.”

For a moment, she couldn’t remember the polite response required of her. She was caught in the magic of his touch, the mesmerizing sound of his voice, and the unusual color of his eyes, circles of gold, green, and brown. She glanced away to release his spell. “Good to meet you, too.”

“Are you going to be around long?”

“A bit. I’m on vacation.” She hoped her cover story would ring true to everyone she met in Wildcat Bluff.

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