Excerpt from Fully Engaged

With the first fire of the season now contained to a very small area, Rick and Callie drew the task of mop-up. Though tedious, mop-up was as necessary and vital as the initial attack on a fire. If all the embers were not extinguished, the fires could re-ignite. Even so, checking for the hidden embers was Rick's least favorite part of the job.

Callie didn't talk much. As far as Rick could tell, she hadn't budged an inch from her stand that on the evolutionary scale, Rick ranked somewhere below an amoeba.

He considered trying to tell her the truth about why he'd left her, but he knew she wouldn't believe him. And she'd told him she wasn't interested. Better to start over, except she didn't seem interested in starting anything with him. Anything but an argument.

"Call it," Callie told him, holding out a coin.

"For what?" He parked his shovel over his shoulder and looked at her.

"Spotting." She didn't add, 'you idiot', but she might as well have.

Unfazed, Rick grinned at her. "Heads," he said as she flipped it.

"Tails. I spot first." Callie settled back to watch. "This is the part that gets a lot of rookies," she said as he bent down and started shoveling. "They don't pay attention to what they're doing and -- bang -- a widowmaker gets 'em every time."

He raised his head to look at her. "That's all right, I'm not married."

"Surprise, surprise."

"You know, Killer," Rick said, throwing dirt on the base of the tree, "I'm getting downright sick of your not-so-subtle insults."

"What a shame. I'll be sure to remember that." She watched him a moment. "You missed a spot."

"Can it, Kilpatrick, I know what I'm doing." He didn't have her experience, but he wasn't a total novice.

Eventually they switched places. Rick crossed to the next tree to search for hot spots, glancing at Callie when she started digging. A loud pop drew his attention to the tree behind her. In frame by frame slow motion, the fir begin its fall.

Instinctively Rick tackled her, pushing her out of harm's way. Tremors shook the ground. Rick raised his head as an ash-filled puff of air brushed his face. He realized the tree had landed a lot farther away from them than he'd expected. His heart pounding with exertion and lingering fear, he lay on top of Callie, crushing her beneath him. He turned his head and gazed down at her.

She stared back at him, her mouthng without a sound emerging. Finally she gasped, "What the hell are you doing?"

Realizing from the strained sound of her voice that he'd knocked the wind out of her, Rick frowned. "You might express a little gratitude, Killer."

"Gratitude? For knocking me down?"

"That snag--" he nodded over at the fallen tree "--was aimed at your head." He wondered when his heartbeat would settle down. He looked into her face again and realized he lay cradled between her legs, like a lover. For a minute, he forgot why they were there. His eyes locked on hers before his gaze fell to her mouth, to the full lips parted so invitingly, so enticingly near, and his head began a slow descent.

"Get off." She squirmed underneath him, jerking him to abrupt awareness.

"Pardon me, Kilpatrick." Gritting his teeth, he wished she'd stop wiggling against him. "Don't worry, you just don't do it for me anymore."

"That's not what it feels like." Her mouth shut with an audible snap.

He would have laughed, except he felt more like cursing. They both wore their work clothes -- fire-resistant green pants and yellow shirts, heavy gloves and boots. Tired, cranky, filthy, he lay on top of her after saving her life. Okay, maybe that was a little strong, but the snag had looked like it would land on her. And no matter how inappropriate, he had a hard-on she couldn't possibly miss.

"It's a perfectly natural male reaction to lying between a woman's legs, sugar. Any woman's legs, especially when she's moving like you are."

Immediately she ceased all motion. It didn't help. He knew he wasn't lying between any woman's legs, he was lying between Callie's, and it felt better than it had any right to. Heaving himself off of her, he stood without offering her a hand.

Callie scrambled to her feet and stalked over to the next tree. Rick couldn't have sworn to it, since she wouldn't look him in the face, but he thought her eyes looked suspiciously bright. He felt like a jerk, but he'd about reached his limit with her attitude. For God's sake, he knew he'd hurt her, but he'd had no other choice. Nine years was a long time to hold a grudge.

"Got a lot of men after you, baby? You must, since you were so sure I was going to hit on you."

"Shut up, Montana." Callie bent to shovel another load of dirt onto a smoldering tree trunk.

"There's Bader, I know." She ignored him and he added, "He mentioned you shot him down. I don't think you want to know what he said about you. It's not fit for female ears. But then, I guess you're more like one of the guys now, aren't you?" Callie didn't answer, she only moved to the next tree. "I could've told him it was useless. You've just buried all your femininity under a layer of good old feminism, haven't you, sugar? Gotta be tough to be a firefighter."

She threw a shovelful of dirt in his face.

He shut up after that.

Excerpt from FULLY ENGAGED, copyright 2001 by Eve Gaddy, Harlequin Superromance #962, January 2001.

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