Cathy Mcdavid - His Only Wife

Eyes that watched his every move.

Since running into Aubrey, Gage had dwelled on little else except her. Even the fire had taken a mental backseat, which was unusual for him. He tended to throw himself into firefighting to the exclusion of everything else, which caused a significant number of rifts with his family. To say his father disapproved of Gage being a firefighter was the understatement of the century.

When he and Aubrey reached her SUV, she reached for the driver-side door handle. Anticipating just such a move, he blocked her with his body.

“Sorry about leaving everything a mess yesterday,” he said, leaning against the door. “When I get called, I have to report immediately.”

“It’s no problem.” She dug impatiently through her purse for her car keys. “I moved what I could into the garage, if that’s all right.”

“I’ll call Hannah. Have her stop by and pick it up.”

“Don’t bother. It’s not hurting anything.”

“Thanks. That’ll save me making a second trip between the ranch and the house.”

“How’s the fire? I saw on the news it’s only five percent contained.”

A question. Good. Maybe she wasn’t as skittish as she appeared. “We had a lucky break today with the weather, which is encouraging. But you can never predict for sure when it comes to fires, so I’m not packing my gear just yet.”

“I admit I was a little surprised to learn you’re a wilderness firefighter. When did that happen?”

“About four years ago. My friend Marty recruited me. I told you about him. He’s with the Pineville radio station. We met when the old Hunt Museum and General Store burned down, and he came out to do a live broadcast.”

“I took it for granted you ran the ranch with your dad.” She gave a little shrug. “Since that was, well, that was always…”

“My plan. Yeah, well, it’s still my dad’s plan.”

“He doesn’t like you being a firefighter?” Her eyebrows knitted, then lifted. “I think he’d be proud.”

Gage expelled a long breath. “It’s not that he doesn’t like me being a firefighter, just not now. Between his gout attacks and Hannah commuting back and forth during the week to the agricultural college in Pineville, running the ranch falls mostly to me.”

“And firefighting has a tendency to cut into your chores.”

“In a big way. It’s a forty-hour-a-week job during the season. Double that when we’re at a fire.”

“What do you do when you’re not fighting fire?”

“Clear roads of hazards, burn control fires, training. It’s never-ending.”

“You’ve taken on quite a load,” she observed.

“More so now that we’re participating in the drought study.”

“Drought study?”

“For the federal government. All the ranches in the area have lost a lot of grazing land because of the drought. We didn’t think we were going to make it for a while, and wouldn’t have without the extra income from the study.” He didn’t tell Aubrey how very close the Raintrees had come to losing the ranch that had been in their family for five generations.

“I thought you liked ranching.”

“I do.” He caught her gaze and held it. “But I love firefighting, and I’m going to keep doing it despite my dad’s objections.”

“Good for you, Gage.”

“Do me a favor, will you? The next time my dad and I have an argument, repeat those same words to me.”

He grinned, attempting to lighten the mood and fend off the resentment perpetually gnawing at him. His father bent over backward to support his younger sister’s ambitions, which were in keeping with the Raintree tradition of cattle ranching, but not his son’s.

She smiled back. “Is he really that tough on you?”

“Tougher.”

“What about hiring help?”

“We can’t afford it.”

“I hope you can find a compromise. Firefighting is special. Not that ranching isn’t,” she quickly amended. “But you make a real difference in the world.” Genuine admiration tinged her voice, and his chest swelled.

“Like being a nurse?”

“Firefighting is nothing like being a nurse. You put your life on the line for others. That takes courage and daring.”

“It’s just a job.”

“It’s not just a job.” She tilted her head and stared him square in the face. “I have to say, Gage, you really impress me. Not that I wasn’t—”

She didn’t have a chance to finish because he hauled her into his arms, lifted her onto her toes and brought her mouth to within a tiny fraction of his.

Her green eyes went wide. “If you’re thinking of kissing me, think again.”

“Oh, I’m going to kiss you, all right.”

Deciding this was exactly the opportunity he’d unconsciously been hoping for, he swung her around and pinned her against the SUV door. She didn’t run screaming, which was all the encouragement he needed. He then made good on his threat and kissed her soundly.

For the second time that day, he felt the searing sting of flames licking his body. Only these flames were the product of his own desire.

She didn’t respond initially, and he could sense her struggle to remain unaffected. Gage would have none of it. He didn’t merely seek entrance into her mouth with his tongue, he demanded it. And once inside, he made it his personal mission to affect Aubrey as much as possible. She held out for another few seconds, then conceded with a soft moan.

Mindless of the warm summer sun beating down on them and the occasional passing car or pedestrian, he kissed her over and over. Venturing from her mouth, he tasted a delicate earlobe and the sweet curve of her neck where it joined her shoulder. She shuddered and sighed, and he took her mouth again.

“Enough,” she gasped when he finally allowed her to catch her breath.

Because he was fast approaching the point of no return, he eased back a step.

Aubrey pressed her palms to her flushed cheeks. “We can’t do this. It’s crazy.”

“I want to see you. I think it’s pretty obvious there’s still a lot of attraction on both sides.”

She worried her bottom lip and shook her head. “Not a good idea.”

“I disagree.” Gage’s heart rate had finally slowed to something his overcharged system could tolerate. “Have dinner with me later this week. We’ll talk.”

Her dubious expression spoke volumes. “You’re right about one thing. There is still a lot of attraction on both sides. But I’ve only been back in town a few days, and it’s not like we’ve remained close through the years.”

“Okay, w—”

She cut him off with a raised hand. “I’m not ready…not going to start dating you again. It would be a mistake. For a lot of reasons.”

“Aubrey…”

“I’m out of here in six weeks when my leave of absence is over. And I don’t think either of us wants another miserable parting. One was more than enough.”

Gage was struck by the sudden pain clouding Aubrey’s eyes. Pain because she’d hurt him and regretted it? Or had he hurt her? Truthfully, he’d never stopped to consider the possibility that his refusal to accompany her to Tucson might have been viewed by Aubrey as a form of rejection. Well, maybe he should consider it and consider it hard.

“I really have to go.”

“Aubrey—”

She grabbed the door handle of her SUV and got in. This time, he didn’t stop her.

“Goodbye, Gage. And good luck with the fire.” She shut the door.

He stayed, watching her pull out of the parking lot and replaying the last five minutes in his head. Kissing her had been great. Unbelievable. He didn’t regret it for one second. But it was clear he’d pressured Aubrey for more than she was prepared to give. And if he didn’t want to scare her off, he’d have to take a less headstrong approach.