Bear The Blaze (Firebear Brides 3) by Anya Nowlan Page B
Authors: Anya Nowlan
Tags: Fiction, Suspense, Romance, Contemporary, Paranormal, Adult, supernatural, firefighter, arsonist, Erotic, Interracial, Brothers, Bachelor, BBW, Shifter, Violence, Mate, Protection, Idaho, Forever Love, Single Woman, Mail-Order Bride, Firebear Brides, One Year, Scheming Relatives, Shifter Grove, Family Homestead, Uncle's Will, Latina Mechanic, New Future, Dark Secret, Haunted Past, Arson Detective
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It was a rush, another little thing to keep her mind off of the man who was so thoroughly monopolizing her time and attention. But it did give her a chance to hear what Redmond was talking about. The engine did sound a bit jittery, especially on downshifts.
Chewing on the inside of her lip thoughtfully, Abigail scooted out. She grabbed her headlamp and toolbox and got to work. She popped the hood and examined the engine, keeping it on to hear where the rattle was coming from. Another blessed diversion. Knowing Redmond, he’d thrown her a bone because the way she and Ragnar had been awkwardly avoiding one another had to be painfully obvious for everyone involved.
You need to talk to him, she told herself, allowing one more second of obsessing about him before she’d put him out of her thoughts until her job was done. When he gets back.
She refused to consider the possibility of if he came back. He had to. They had unfinished business. The werebear had no right to try and get injured during something as apparently routine as a forest fire in Idaho.
Attempting to troubleshoot a truck alone that was finicky mostly during gear changes was not an easy task. After poking around in the engine for a while, Abigail eased herself into the service pit that opened up in the belly of the workshop. Wearing her headlamp and dragging her toolbox down there—a precarious climb as the pit was only accessible via ladder—Abigail took her time to check the underside of the truck.
These modern cars were a real hassle. Most things that needed to be done required half of the damn thing to be dismantled. Thank the Lord she was so adept at it. Abigail was busy loosening some couplings when she heard the telltale sign of heavy footsteps outside.
“You guys back already?” she called, but got no answer.
She couldn’t see a damn thing from the darkness of the pit, despite standing up on a little foot ladder because she wasn’t tall enough to reach everything she needed to. There was no answer, and for a second she thought she’d imagined those steps. But a moment later she heard something sloshing, like liquid in a canister, and the footsteps sounded again, more distant this time.
“Redmond, would you stop dicking around! Is everyone all right? Did Old Bell make it?” she called, frowning to herself.
When that too went without a reply, Abigail hopped off the ladder and went for the one that would take her out of the pit. As she put her hands on the first rung, the heavy metal cover was slammed down on top of the pit, covering the ladder exit and plunging Abigail into darkness. All she saw were a pair of dark brown, muddy work boots with bright yellow tags.
“This isn’t funny!” she hissed, clambering up the rungs and pushing at the cover, unable to move it from her side. “Let me out!”
It was at that moment that her heart sunk. She heard the sound of a match being pulled and then the terrifying whoosh that came with a fire starting, big and angry. She could hear those footsteps faintly walking away again until there was nothing else but the roar of the fire somewhere outside of the workshop, and the panicked beating of her heart to keep her company.
CHAPTER TEN
Ragnar
Putting distance between himself and Abigail was like taking a hot prod and trying to gouge his eyes out. In a word, impossible. Every fiber of his being longed to hold her, to be closer to her and cut through that distance he’d so painstakingly constructed. But he knew that doing that would have been for him, not for her.
Got to be strong , he told himself, snorting dryly at the stupidity of that thought.
He was very aware that he looked like an apparition of his usual self. Eyes sunken into his skull, and his face contorted in a constant scowl that put his usual grouchy demeanor to shame, he looked like the true definition of the outward image he’d been trying to create. There were too many balls in the air and Ragnar was wearing himself thin
Chewing on the inside of her lip thoughtfully, Abigail scooted out. She grabbed her headlamp and toolbox and got to work. She popped the hood and examined the engine, keeping it on to hear where the rattle was coming from. Another blessed diversion. Knowing Redmond, he’d thrown her a bone because the way she and Ragnar had been awkwardly avoiding one another had to be painfully obvious for everyone involved.
You need to talk to him, she told herself, allowing one more second of obsessing about him before she’d put him out of her thoughts until her job was done. When he gets back.
She refused to consider the possibility of if he came back. He had to. They had unfinished business. The werebear had no right to try and get injured during something as apparently routine as a forest fire in Idaho.
Attempting to troubleshoot a truck alone that was finicky mostly during gear changes was not an easy task. After poking around in the engine for a while, Abigail eased herself into the service pit that opened up in the belly of the workshop. Wearing her headlamp and dragging her toolbox down there—a precarious climb as the pit was only accessible via ladder—Abigail took her time to check the underside of the truck.
These modern cars were a real hassle. Most things that needed to be done required half of the damn thing to be dismantled. Thank the Lord she was so adept at it. Abigail was busy loosening some couplings when she heard the telltale sign of heavy footsteps outside.
“You guys back already?” she called, but got no answer.
She couldn’t see a damn thing from the darkness of the pit, despite standing up on a little foot ladder because she wasn’t tall enough to reach everything she needed to. There was no answer, and for a second she thought she’d imagined those steps. But a moment later she heard something sloshing, like liquid in a canister, and the footsteps sounded again, more distant this time.
“Redmond, would you stop dicking around! Is everyone all right? Did Old Bell make it?” she called, frowning to herself.
When that too went without a reply, Abigail hopped off the ladder and went for the one that would take her out of the pit. As she put her hands on the first rung, the heavy metal cover was slammed down on top of the pit, covering the ladder exit and plunging Abigail into darkness. All she saw were a pair of dark brown, muddy work boots with bright yellow tags.
“This isn’t funny!” she hissed, clambering up the rungs and pushing at the cover, unable to move it from her side. “Let me out!”
It was at that moment that her heart sunk. She heard the sound of a match being pulled and then the terrifying whoosh that came with a fire starting, big and angry. She could hear those footsteps faintly walking away again until there was nothing else but the roar of the fire somewhere outside of the workshop, and the panicked beating of her heart to keep her company.
CHAPTER TEN
Ragnar
Putting distance between himself and Abigail was like taking a hot prod and trying to gouge his eyes out. In a word, impossible. Every fiber of his being longed to hold her, to be closer to her and cut through that distance he’d so painstakingly constructed. But he knew that doing that would have been for him, not for her.
Got to be strong , he told himself, snorting dryly at the stupidity of that thought.
He was very aware that he looked like an apparition of his usual self. Eyes sunken into his skull, and his face contorted in a constant scowl that put his usual grouchy demeanor to shame, he looked like the true definition of the outward image he’d been trying to create. There were too many balls in the air and Ragnar was wearing himself thin
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