Logan wasn't going to go there. The damage between Dennis and Joseph wasn't any of his business. He'd spent years trying not to get in the middle of it.
A few moments later, the wind and noise from the helicopter rotors forced them back several steps. Logan reached out to steady Jenny, not letting go of her shoulders until the blades slowed. Through the glass, he could see Maya and Dennis talking. Suddenly, Dennis's face went a nasty shade of red and the next thing Logan knew, Maya was hopping out of the helicopter onto the blacktop. When she saw him her eyes widened in surprise, then quickly narrowed.
He barely had the chance to note her interesting fashion choice—even sweatpants and a T-shirt looked damn good on her—before she was in his face. Breathing fire.
“You and I need to talk. Now.”
She didn't wait for him to agree before heading toward the small office on the edge of the airstrip. She clicked open her cell phone and Logan immediately wondered who she was calling and why. And how much more trouble it was going to get him in.
First, though, he needed to find out what Dennis had already told her.
“I blew it, man” were the first words Dennis said.
“Oh shit. You told her.”
Dennis's hands were out in front of his body as he defended his f**kup. “I didn't know who she was. She didn't tell me until we landed. I saw the fire and I didn't have enough caffeine in me yet and I couldn't control my mouth.”
It was always excuses with Dennis. Always had been. Joseph and Dennis had taken Logan in when he didn't have anyone else and he would give up his life for his adopted family, but that didn't mean he wasn't pissed as hell right this second.
Jenny looked between the two of them. “What are you talking about, Dennis? Who is that woman? What did you tell her?”
“She's an arson investigator. She's here because of the Desolation fire.” Dennis looked like he was about to cry. “I didn't mean to sell you out,” he said to Logan. “I swear it, man.”
Jenny looked helplessly at Logan. “He doesn't know yet. I was going to tell him when he landed.” She turned to her boyfriend. “Logan has already been suspended from the fire. That's why he's standing here right now.” She lowered her voice to a hiss. “That woman is investigating him.”
Logan had never seen Dennis look more upset. Or nervous.
“Oh Jesus, I'm sorry, Logan. They've got to know you'd never do something like that, right?”
“What did you tell her about me?”
Jenny shot a questioning glance at Logan. “What are you talking about? What dirt does he have on you? Is it something that could get you in trouble?”
A muscle jumped in Dennis's forehead. “Swear to God I told her it was just stupid kid stuff. You were never trying to hurt anyone. You were just pissed off at everything.” A flurry of words were hurtling out of his mouth as he worked to clear his conscience. “I'm sorry, man. But even knowing about that stuff you used to be into, there's no way she can pin this fire on you. Everyone knows hotshots are holy men around here.” Dennis glanced nervously at Jenny. “Besides, it'll be impossible to get any good evidence. It's all burning up. You're safe.”
Dennis always did have a knack for saying stupid things like that. A gust of wind dusted them with ashes as Logan reminded himself that none of this was Dennis's fault. He hadn't been a pyro, Logan had.
“Don't worry about it,” he said to his foster brother.
He turned and headed for the office to face down Maya. It was time to do some serious damage control.
CHAPTER NINE
A SIGN on the office window said the private airport wouldn't be staffed until later that morning, but the door would be unlocked so that people could use the bathroom. Maya locked herself in the single stall to get her thoughts in order before facing off against Logan. Again.
She gulped down some ice-cold tap water to clear her head and returned to the small room just as he let the door close behind him, his broad shoulders and six-plus feet effectively blocking all sunlight. He looked like he hadn't gotten much more sleep than she had, and still, he was so gorgeous she lost her breath just looking at him.
“You're a pyromaniac.”
Logan didn't bother to deny the truth. “I used to be. A long time ago. But I'm not that kid anymore.”
He couldn't think he was going to get out of it that easily, could he, that his charming good looks would make her say Oh, okay, never mind.
“I might have believed you yesterday when I asked you point-blank why you went to live with Joseph. But now you've forced me to reexamine things. To ask myself why you were hiding something so important from a fire investigator. To consider whether or not you're guilty, after all.”
“Look,” he said, “I used to light fires. I was a stupid teenage boy who didn't have a clue.”
Even as he tried to talk his way out of the extremely damning evidence against him, his kiss was still imprinted on her lips. She could still smell him. Taste him.
Damn him for having such power over me!
“Why should I believe you? All I know is that you were seen putting out two fires near the ignition point— and you used to light fires for fun.”
“I can see how you'd think that. But this time, it doesn't add up. You asked me about my past yesterday. Well, here it is: I lit fires when I was a kid because my dad was an ass**le and it made me feel powerful. I didn't get that fires could destroy things, that they could spin out of control and kill people. I was a f**ked-up kid. That's all it was. I swear to God, Maya, my past has nothing to do with these fires.”
It was incredibly difficult to hold tight to her doubts in the face of his sincerity.
“How can I be absolutely sure that it really is all in the past?”
She thought back to her interview with Joseph the previous afternoon, how sad it must be for Logan to see a once-strong man fade away.
“Joseph took you in during a difficult time in your life. He was good to you, he treated you like another son, and now his health is failing. It must be incredibly hard for you to deal with. You wouldn't be the first person to act out of grief.” She took a deep breath. “Like me. With you. When Tony died. You wouldn't be the first person who'd screwed up in the heat of the moment. Or the last person.”