Love Under Two Mavericks Cara Covington (best ereader for pc txt) 📖

He struck it, watched the flame burn, then bent over and touched the flame to the paper. It caught immediately. The lack of a breeze ensured it would burn without difficulty.

The grass around the burning paper caught, and then flames ran down half the length of the house and onto the porch. Satisfied, Dev walked as quickly as possible toward the car he’d come in—the car that his witless son, sound asleep in his bed, didn’t know he’d taken.

An orange glow began to lighten the sky behind him as he drove off, headed for home.

* * * *

“Fire!”

The single word jolted Michaela from her sound and very comfortable sleep. Not yet fully awake, she inhaled deeply and coughed. Smoke was a light but very real presence in the room.

Michaela’s heart pounded in her chest as her mind cleared.

“Shit!” Randy pulled her to his side of the bed—the side she’d undressed on after they’d returned from Sunday supper with his family.

“How…” No sense asking how. Randy thrust her clothes toward her, and she pulled them on as quickly as possible. Lewis had yanked on his pants and headed out into the hallway. He came back almost immediately, a fierce look on his face.

“It’s got a good start, damn it, at the front of the house. We have to get out, now.”

It took them only another minute to finish dressing. The single window in her bedroom showed a wavy, orange-tinged light moving closer. Randy didn’t open it. He just looked out, above the a/c unit that was lodged there. He turned off the device, then looked at her.

“Too close to the flames for us to use.”

“We’ll use the window at the end of the hall,” Lewis said.

Michaela knew that window wasn’t very wide, but it would be wide enough.

She’d just slipped her shoes on and grabbed her cellphone off her dresser when Randy took her hand and led her out of the bedroom. They stepped into the hallway, and Michaela felt the heat and heard the crackling. She couldn’t not look to the left, toward the monster. Her heart broke at the sight of the flames devouring her living room. Randy pulled her to the right.

He whipped up the window and pushed out the screen. Then he lifted her into his arms and slid her out the window.

“I’ll call for help.” Michaela moved away from the window to make room for the guys. But when she turned back, Randy wasn’t there, and neither was Lewis.

She had the fire department’s number on speed dial—as she had the sheriff’s and the clinic’s. Michaela didn’t panic. She was concise and to the point—and lied when she told them everyone was out of the house because they damn well would be within seconds if she had anything to say about it.

The call was no sooner done than Lewis appeared at the window with a box.

Michaela ran up and took it from him.

“Get out of there!”

“One more trip, baby girl.”

“Damn stubborn men.” She set the box away from the house then ran back in time to take the items Randy pushed on her—her purse and what looked like a good armload of her clothing.

He disappeared, too. Michaela took the salvaged items over to the box. She looked down and saw her brother’s name scrawled atop it.

Her throat caught. They were taking care of her, her men, and had even thought to ensure that the one truly irreplaceable item in her home—aside from all of them—was safe.

Randy dropped another pile of clothing and, this time, thank God, came out the window. The sound of the fire, a snarling ugly crackle when they’d awakened, had morphed into a growing roar.

Randy turned and reached up. Lewis handed him another box. Randy headed toward her while Lewis climbed out and scooped up the load Randy had dropped. Then he, too, joined her, well back from the building. As she watched him approach, she got a glimpse through the window, into the house, in time to witness a burning beam fall from the ceiling to the floor.

“I’ll get the truck,” Randy said. He jogged off to the right, toward the barn where they’d parked the night before. Her own car, which she usually parked in front of the barn, was instead at Laci’s. They’d driven there in her car for a change, and then, when they’d gotten ready to come home, her starter had finally crapped out. Lucas had given them a ride home.

Randy drove to them, and they quickly piled the salvaged items into the back of the pickup. Then they rode back to the driveway and stopped halfway between the house and the barn, just as they heard the sirens of the approaching Lusty fire trucks.

Lewis lowered the tailgate and lifted her onto it. Then he and Randy hopped up and bracketed her. The moment the firemen got out of the firetruck, they looked toward her and the guys. Randy waved, letting them know there was no one left inside the house and that they were all safe.

The firemen didn’t waste any time. Grant and Andrew, along with Trace Langley and a couple of people she didn’t immediately recognize, began to pour water onto the burning building. They were shouting to each other in a lingo she didn’t understand.

Another siren in the distance joined the cacophony of sound. Moments later, the sheriff’s vehicle pulled into the driveway. Adam stopped the cruiser behind the fire truck. From her angle, she couldn’t see if he was alone, or not. But she guessed that likely Jake was with him.

An explosion jerked her, and she shivered.

“Propane tank at the back of the house,” Lewis said.

It was still dark out, and not at all cold, but Michaela began to shiver. Her men reacted by tucking her in even closer. The sound of a crack reached her.

And then the roof caved in.

They sat and watched as the firemen pulled back, as they focused on the surrounding area, on stopping any sparks that