Playing With Fire (Tangled in Texas, #2)(21)
“It’s okay. Just go.” His low, gruff voice wavered between confusion and anger.
Obviously, he suspected me of starting that booth fire. But I hadn’t. Not really. Or rather, not intentionally. It was an accident, one that could have easily happened to any of us. Though I doubted he would see it that way.
I managed to loll my head back enough to see the orange glow once more and a tremor ran through me. Cowboy’s arms tightened around me, drawing my attention back to him. Our eyes met briefly, then I began to hum. It was so low, I hoped he couldn’t hear it over the noise of the loud music and the shouts of the carnival goers, but knew he probably felt the vibrations against his ribs.
Cowboy pulled his arm out from behind my legs and let my body slide down his until both my feet touched the pavement. Then he unknotted my arms from around his neck. I’d coiled around him like a boa constrictor, and apparently didn’t want to let go.
He smoothed one large hand over my hair while the other rubbed at the back of my neck, soothing and relaxing me. “You’re okay,” he whispered gently in my ear. “I’ve got you.”
That’s when the humming stopped. I accepted his calming touch willingly and my heart rate decreased. I didn’t know why he’d elected himself to be responsible for me. But he had. And I fully believed he wasn’t about to let me down now.
Cowboy leaned me against the cold metal of the truck and used the strategic placement of his body against mine to keep me balanced upright as he opened the door and maneuvered me into the passenger’s seat.
He reached past me and grabbed a navy blue jacket with a fireman’s patch on the sleeve, wrapping it around my shoulders. Then he pulled an orange emergency kit out from behind the seat and flipped open the lid. A small silver tank and a self-contained breathing apparatus were inside.
The last time I’d seen my mother alive, she was covered in white skin-peeling blisters and wearing such a mask. “No, I’m okay.” But he ignored me and tried to put the mask over my face, anyway. I shoved it away. “I said I don’t need it!”
He gritted his teeth. “Wear the damn mask, Anna.”
I shook my head. Beyond watery eyes and a slightly sore throat, I wasn’t presenting any other signs of damage from the smoke. “I would, if I thought I needed it, but I’m not even coughing anymore. I don’t have a headache, hoarseness, nausea, or mental confusion. Nothing to indicate I suffered smoke inhalation.”
When his gaze dropped to my chest, swiftly and blatantly, my pulse quickened and my eyebrow rose. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Shut up.”
“Excuse me?”
After a minute, he lifted his head, letting his eyes meet mine. “I was counting your respirations, not ogling your breasts,” he said, pressing two thick fingers to the inside of my wrist to measure my erratic pulse.
I’d angered him, though I hadn’t meant to. It isn’t my fault the playboy has a reputation he can’t live down.
My pulse must not have spiked as high as I’d thought, because he tossed the lid closed on the oxygen tank and put it away. Wordlessly, he pulled me against his chest, sharing his body heat. It wasn’t cold out, but I was shaking and couldn’t have resisted if I wanted to. His strong arms wrapped around me like a security blanket and the divine scent of his cologne permeated my nostrils, lending me comfort I hadn’t known I needed.
Reynolds produced a water hose from nearby and doused the blaze while we watched in silence. Guess the contained fire was small enough they didn’t need to bring out the big hose because, within minutes, the flames were out.
Cowboy pulled back, placing his hands on my shoulders and looking me square in the eyes. “Anna, why did you start the fire?”
Stunned, I blinked at him and shook my head adamantly. “I…I didn’t.”
His eyes narrowed with suspicion and his mouth pulled taut into a flat, thin line. He didn’t believe me. Not only that, but there I was clinging to a man I now wanted to strangle.
Angrily, I tried to shift away from him, but he held me firmly in place, nodding to the site where the fire had been. “Then tell me what happened,” he demanded, his tone bordering on frustration and fury.
“How would I know? I was with you, remember? I just left you back there. Why would you even suggest I had anything to do with—”
“There’s a bottle of lighter fluid on the ground not ten feet away from where you were standing. It only takes seconds to start a fire using that. Besides, you were practically standing in the fire when I found you. I had to radio it in and then double time it up here to get you out of the smoke before you killed yourself. What the hell were you doing, anyway?”
“I was just…”
“Just what?” When I didn’t respond to his question, he raised his voice. “Answer the damn question.”
“It doesn’t matter. I didn’t start the fire. That’s all you need to know.”
“Bullshit, Anna! This is the third fire in three days you just happened to be near when it started. I don’t want to believe you had something to do with it, but what the hell else am I supposed to think?”
I narrowed my eyes.
“Hey, Captain,” a young fireman said, approaching us and addressing Cowboy. “No injuries to report and the flames are out. But we found the source of the fire. You might want to come talk to him. He’s on the side of the building over here and refuses to leave.”