Page 45 of Wildfire


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“Dammit,” I hit the steering wheel and snap myself out of it. “Let her go.”

I wrench open the truck door and slam it with frustration driving all my limbs. Around the other side I reach through the window and grab Zeke’s dinner.

The parking lot is empty except a small camper van with a shiny BMW logo on it. Must be someone travelling through, no one in Raston drives a rig like that.

When I push through the door it makes a loud buzz to let Zeke know someone’s here. The place is empty but there’s a weird energy. Suddenly the office door opens, and a beautiful young woman steps out, her head is angled down, her round cheeks flushed and hair messy. She adjusts the skirt on her curvy hips and glances up at me as we pass. She bites a smile, her bottom lip between her teeth and I can’t help but watch her.

Looking back to the office, Zeke is standing in the doorway his coveralls zipped down his chest. Sweat clings to his forehead and his shoulders move like he’s still catching his breath.

“Who was that?” I ask, setting his dinner on the counter. A shit eating grin swallows my brother’s whole face and he shrugs.

“No clue.” He leans over the paperwork on the desk. “Nova. Nova Forrester.”

I have no interest in knowing why he’s having sex with his customers, but as the owner of this building I can’t keep my mouth shut.

“This is a business Zeke. Keep it in your pants.”

Zeke laughs and digs into his dinner. “She wouldn’t take no for answer, Bro. Who am I to deny a lady what she wants?”

I roll my eyes and shake my head. “You’re an idiot.”

“It’s kind of exhilarating getting used. I’ve never been someone’s dirty little secret before. That girl had demons.”

“Yeah, always fun to play VD roulette.” I say and then my eyebrows lower. “Please tell me you were safe.”

“Of course, I bagged it. I’m not stupid.”

“You are an asshole though.” Bagged it? Where does he even get this shit from?

“I learn from the best,” he shoots back, and my jaw tightens. Zeke’s always been this way. Cocky, passive aggressive, and overcompensating hard for whatever it is that goes on inside his head.

Being in this place reminds me that I need to come in and check his books at some point.

“She said she’ll meet me at the bar later,” Zeke continues with a mouth full of pasta my sister cooked for him. “Maybe she’ll want a round two.”

Zeke wiggles his eyebrows and I sneer. “I have no interest in talking about any of this with you. I gotta go.” Thoughts of my little brother and his conquests don’t sit well in my mind. I’m almost a full ten years older than him. I changed his diapers. Gave him baths. Taught him how to walk and bike.

I stop by the door and turn to him taking a big breath. “If a girl like that shows up in a town like this and hooks up with a guy like you you know what my first question would be?”

Zeke groans like he always does when I lecture him. “What, Xan? What would your question be?”

“What is she running from?”

His face twists up in thought for a moment like I said something truly profound and then he shakes his head. “Yeah, but that’s because you’re always trying to fix people. If some sad little rich girl wants blow through town and blow me in the process, I’m not going to think much beyond that.”

“Sometimes I wonder if you think much at all,” I mutter, and his features settle into a scowl. He grabs his dinner and stalks to the office. It was a total dick thing to say, but my nerves are heightened right now.

I’m not always trying to fix people.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. It’s Del.

Del: I need you. Meet me at the bar.

My heart rate spikes and feet pick up the pace to my truck. When I’m seated and the engine has roared to life a small laugh escapes.

Okay, maybe Zeke’s right.

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