Point of Origin (6 page)

She finally turned, swallowing me whole with those brown eyes. What an incredibly sexy woman she’d grown into while I wasn’t watching. Then she blew her bangs out of her eyes, reminding me too much of the girl I’d loved, and I was fucking sunk. She was everything I wanted—needed—in one smart-mouthed, beautiful package.

“It’s not what you’re saying, Bash. It’s how you’re saying it. Why the hell do you think their first concern is money?”

“Because paying out the benefits for the firefighters bankrupted this town. I can make sure that doesn’t happen again. Make sure that what happened…” She arched that eyebrow at me, and I couldn’t finish.

“To me,” she said simply. “To my mother.”

“Yes,” I admitted. What happened back then had been a travesty, not just for Emerson’s family, but the family of every other hotshot who operated “seasonally.”

“It was just money. We still made ends meet. Stop focusing on the finances. We paid a hell of a lot more than money, and you know that. Hell, you are that, Bash. This town lost its heroes, its husbands, its sons, brothers, friends.”

“You don’t I know that? We lost our fathers,” I snapped.

She nodded with a sad smile. “Yes. Then you need to remind them that you’re one of them. One of us. You’re not just this newly-rich guy who has zero intention of seeing through what you start. You are a legacy of that crew, a firefighting son of a firefighter, Bash. If this is about your ego, then you’re screwed. But if you are serious about doing this for them—for our fathers—then you have a chance. And knowing you, a chance is all you really need.”

“Two coffees,” Agnes said, sliding them across the counter.

“Tab me? I don’t want to be late,” she asked Agnes.

“No problem,” Agnes answered. Her eyes flicked between us and she backed away, a ridiculous grin on her face.

“I’ll see you in there,” Emerson said, taking the cups.

“Emmy,” I stopped her with a light touch to her elbow. She raised her eyebrows. “Do you think this is about ego? Is that what you think of me?”

She sighed. “There’s not enough time in the world for me to discuss my thoughts when it comes to you, Sebastian Vargas.”

“Okay. That was a loaded question,” I admitted. “What do you think about the crew? No holds-bar.”

Her head tilted, forcing her to blow her bangs out of her eyes again. “As a Legacy citizen, I think it opens us up to a ton of issues that we’d put to bed a long time ago for the good of the town. Not just finances, or compensation, but losing them. There’s something about seeing your heroes die that isn’t just tragic—it makes you feel smaller, more vulnerable than you were before.”

“And as Joseph Kendrick’s daughter?”

She sucked in her breath. “I think having even a piece of him alive would be…” her eyes glossed over, and she blinked quickly. “It would be everything. That crew was their life, our family, and as much as it terrifies me—as what you do terrifies me—I also know this is what they would have wanted.”

“Exactly. It’s not about my ego. If it had been, I would have gone straight to the Forest Service and just started up one of my own somewhere else.”

“You just have to remember that there’s only one person on that council who lost someone that day. They’re not looking at this from the same place you are. If you want them to agree, then you need to get them to see it.”

“Will you help me?” I forced the words from my throat. I hated asking for help, let alone from Emerson. Not after what I’d done to her.

She shook her head. “I’m leaving. I’ll be gone three weeks from now and won’t be back for six months. I can’t be the champion you need…or anything you want,” she added in a whisper.

Well, fuck, that hurt a hell of a lot more than I’d imagined, and it was kinder than what I deserved.

“I’m not going to hurt you again,” I promised, reaching for her.

She stepped back out of my reach. “I know, because I won’t let you. Bash, you’re a temporary part of this town, a fleeting moment, because that’s all you want to be, and maybe we do want each other. Maybe we are just as drawn to each other as we were before, but I’m not temporary. This is my home.”

“It’s mine too.”

“Right. You start believing that, and you might have a chance at getting the team back.” She gave me a single nod and walked out of the diner.

“You’d better get going if you want to make that council meeting,” Agnes said, taking my plate.

“And what are your thoughts?” I asked. She gave me a wide-eyed, innocent stare and I damn-near laughed. “Don’t you even act like you didn’t hear every word.”

She shrugged. “Like I’ve told Knox, his daddy would be proud of the man he’s become, and you, too. Does it take years off my life when I know you boys are called out? Of course. But there’s something to be said for a legacy, and I think they’d be damn honored to have their team resurrected.”

I steadied my breathing, trying to hold back dam from breaking. I’d been in town a week today and hadn’t lost my shit. I wasn’t about to start now.

“As for Emerson,” Agnes continued without me asking. “You destroyed that girl, and all that hard armor she wears is your doing.”

“I know,” I said softly. The only time she let it down was when I managed to get my hands on her.

“No, you don’t. You left. You didn’t see her the year after that, when she barely held herself together, waiting for you to show up, to come home. You haven’t watched her these last few years trying to date, to find someone that could fill those shoes you left—hell, abandoned. It took years for that woman to reconstruct herself, and you digging up the past isn’t helping, even if you have the best intentions. Be careful. That team isn’t just your legacy, Sebastian—it’s hers too. Hers, and Ryker’s, and Harper’s, and Knox’s…and all of those kids’. You don’t have the monopoly on grief here. Not in this town. Now, I love you just as much as my Knox, but boy, I will fillet your backside if you hurt that girl again. You’re all in, or you don’t get…
in
. You understand?”

Thirteen or twenty-seven years old, it was all the same—there was nothing like being ripped apart by your best friend’s grandmother. “Yes, ma’am.”

I tossed a hundred dollar bill on the counter.

“Absolutely not,” she protested.

I leaned across the counter and kissed her on the cheek. “Then apply it to Emerson’s tab. She’ll drink enough coffee to go through it in a month.”

Agnes laughed. “That is true. Now, do you know the one beautiful thing about that wall?” She motioned to the south wall.

“That it’s full of love?” I gave her the answer she’d always given me.

“No, boy. The ones who came back to carve again. That fire burned this town to ashes. We lost everything, as you remember. But what you’re forgetting is the rebuild wasn’t just a replacement. It was a fresh start. The sins of old were wiped away, but the love…that came back.”

She was right. So many of the carvings I could make out from here were the same names that had always been there, re-carved on the lighter wood. “Thank you for breakfast. I’d better get to that council meeting.”

“You’re always welcome, and you know it.” She nodded.

My hand was on the door when she called out.

“Sebastian, you’re entitled to that same fresh start. She’ll give it to you, but you have to do more than want it—you have to take it.”

I nodded, unable to say anything that wasn’t either a lie or too truthful, and left the Chatterbox.

What the hell was I supposed to do? Even in California, Emerson was a fire in my blood. She lived in my dreams, came out to play in my memories when I least expected. I’d only ever left her physically. Even six years couldn’t rip her out of my soul, and she was here, more incredible than ever and only a touch away. God, I wanted to touch. No, not just touch, own.

I needed to possess her in the same way she had me.

I wanted to be the reason she smiled, the reason she raised an eyebrow. I wanted to be the one to kiss those lips, to hold her, to hear her scream my name as I fucked her senseless. I wanted every single part of Emerson, and she wanted nothing from me. How the tables had turned.

“Ready for the fight of your life?” Ryker asked at the front door to the town offices.

“In more way than one,” I answered and swung open the door.

Chapter Six

Emerson

“We have Miles Ryan at 9 a.m, followed by Sebastian Vargas at 9:30—”

“I can’t believe he’s pressing this. A new hotshot team! There’s no chance this will pass. None. And it’s damn disrespectful for him to think that he can march back in here—” Mayor Davis nearly slammed his coffee down, its contents spilling over the side. “Well, that’s just perfect.”

I reached for the paper towels in his desk drawer, but he beat me to it.

“Well, that’s what I get for being a hot head,” he muttered, mopping up the spill. “I’m so sorry, Emerson. I’m just a little worked up about this.”

“As I can see,” I said softly, finishing today’s agenda. Of course, Bash had to be on the schedule directly after we dealt with accepting the new fire department’s budget for the fiscal year. Ironic timing at its best.

“Well, we’d better get to it.” He brushed invisible crumbs off his tie and stood. “Ready?”

Absolutely not.
“Let’s do this.” I forced a smile, cradled the files in my arms and followed him down the steps.

“Bad day?” Greg asked, meeting us just outside the door.

“I guess we’ll see in about an hour,” I answered.

Greg held my chair, and I slid in, grateful for the kindness. “Thanks.”

He bent down, gently squeezing my shoulder. “I know things are probably spinning a million miles an hour for you right now with Vargas home, but if you ever need to talk, just know that I’m here.”

My head turned, bringing me within inches of him. I hovered there for a moment, shamelessly testing, willing that same inferno of need to burst free, to incinerate me with the need to feel his mouth on mine. His blue eyes dropped to my lips, and he drew a breath.

“For anything you need,” he qualified.

Any minute now…
I told myself. Any minute the desire would rush in.
Wait for it…

Damn it.

Nothing. Not even a tingle.

Maybe I was broken.

“Let’s call this meeting to order,” Mayor Davis said.

“Thank you,” I said to Greg, and he took the seat next to me with a little nod.

Miles marched in, right on time, and stood at the podium. Thirty-one minutes later, the new budget was approved. The cost was huge to a tiny town like ours, but we didn’t mess around with fire. At least within the town’s limits.

They’d even added in the cost of the hotshot memorial in two weeks to the fire budget. Dad never would have stood for that, being a drain on the fire department’s budget, but it wasn’t like he had a say anymore.

Glancing over the few notes I’d scribbled down to help Mayor Davis, I popped a Tic Tac in my mouth and starred the items I’d need to tackle first as Miles left.

The door shut, and as cliché as it was, I swore I felt him before I saw him. The energy in the room changed, crackled with tension. By the time I looked up, Bash already stood at the podium with his three-day level of scruff, perfect, gorgeous, and imposing in another immaculate suit. Today, he wore a moss-green tie, which played off his eyes so well that I flashed back in time to seeing that shade above me, taking in every nuance of my expressions as he rocked steadily within me.

“Are you okay?”
He’d asked.

“God, yes,”
I’d answered.
“Don’t stop.”

“Never. We’re just getting started, baby.
” Then he’d shifted his angle, and I hadn’t been able to speak anything but “Oh, God,” and his name for the rest of the night.

Mayor Davis mumbled next to me, and I blinked myself free of the memory.

Hunger settled low within my belly, infusing my limbs with heat.
Nope, not broken.

Damn it, my against-a-wall level of sex drive only turned on around Bash.

Our eyes locked across the dozen feet that separated us, and he sucked in a breath as I ran my tongue across my instantly dry lower lip. I wanted him. Now. In the office, the janitor’s closet, wherever, as long as it was
now.

“Alright, Mr. Vargas, let’s hear this plan of yours.”

The door opened, and Ryker walked in, his blonde hair a little wild, but his suit just as tailored as Bash’s. “Sorry I’m late,” he apologized. “I was picking someone up at the airport.”

“These are closed-door proceedings, Mr. Anders.”

“Yes, sir, they are,” Bash answered. “They are limited to the council and Legacy, LLC, which Mr. Anders is also a member of.”

Ryker walked up and handed each of the council members—myself included—a copy of the LLC paperwork.

Papers flipped as the council sought the names.
Smart move, Bash.

I looked up with an approving smile and nodded when he visibly relaxed.

“And when is your third member going to make an appearance?” Mayor Davis asked.

“Right now, sir.”

My head snapped to the doorway and my smile was instant and overwhelming.

Harper was going to shit bricks.

Knox Daniels walked in, still knotting his tie, which looked conveniently like the one Bash had been wearing last week. His light brown hair was haphazardly styled in stark contrast to Bash’s carefully crafted almost-spiked look.

He took a seat next to Ryker and scanned the council. Once he got to me, his eyes lit and he waved. I returned it as enthusiastically as I could without jumping on my chair and singing “The boys are back in town.”

The three of them had always been unstoppable. Reckless, a little irreverent, but always a force to be reckoned with.

I gave Bash a small thumbs-up and savored his smile.

“Mr. Vargas, if you’re ready now.”

Bash ran his fingers over his stubble-covered cheeks, placed his hands on the podium, and took control. Fuck, it was hot.

He laid out the plan for the twenty-member hotshot team. They would remain a federal asset but belong to the town in name-only. Legacy, LLC would fund the team in its entirety, and already had the backing of the Forest Service.