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Breathless (The Finn Factor #11)
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From New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author R.G. Alexander, Book 11 in the Finn Factor Series!
Firefighter Wyatt Finn has been chasing Fiona Howard for a while now. But so has Thoreau Wayne. The only thing they seem to have in common is the beautiful, commitment-phobic bartender, and they’d both do anything to make her stay.
After barely escaping a burning building with his brother and his life, Wyatt starts to rethink his priorities.
When Thoreau approaches him with an idea to change their tense triangle into a true triad, he’s willing to give Plan WTF a chance.
But Fiona has secrets that could end it all before it even begins…
Warning: This is a man’s world. Explicit sex. Beer. Fire. Tapas? The dropping of the trou along with potential sword touching and bisexual elephants in the room (not real elephants silly). Interfering Waynes and Finns, group texts, mystery baby daddies, and three characters who’ve been sidelined throughout the series finding love in a hopeless place.
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“Love must be as much a light as it is a flame.”
― Henry David Thoreau
What now, firecracker?
Squinting through the smoke and floating ash, he scanned the large office space currently burning down around him in search of an opening. The second floor of the building was shared by telemarketers and accountants, and their colorfully framed inspirational quotes littering the room seemed to mock him. Teamwork Makes the Dream Work was his favorite, but it had fallen off the wall and was currently in flames next to the poster of a cat hanging from a tree.
He patted his brother’s leg, knowing that if he weren’t unconscious and slung over Wyatt’s shoulder like a roll of heavy carpet, he would have appreciated the irony. “See that? Hang in there, buddy.”
Not the right message for the moment. Not with heat blistering and peeling the paint from the walls and the fresh flames blocking the direction he’d come in only minutes before.
“That’s damned inconvenient.” Even with no mask to muffle it, he could barely hear his own voice over the angry roar of the fire and sounds of its destruction on the floors above and below. Someone was likely yelling at him on the radio, but luckily, he couldn’t hear that either. The smoke wasn’t that bad in here yet, though the acrid fumes were already filling his nose and tasting like metal on his tongue.
Maybe he needed to keep his mouth shut.
The stairs are on the other side of that fire. Turn left in the hallway. First door on the right. One floor down, right turn out of the stairwell, thirty steps to the front door and we’ll be clear.
Wyatt had been in similar situations and knew the chaos around him could, and would, fuck with his head. It was the disorientation more than anything. The heat and smoke, the debris and general sense of urgency, all turned a man around, eating up precious seconds he couldn’t afford to lose. So he did his best to visualize the path he needed to take in his mind until he believed he could walk it with his eyes closed.
It was a helpful trick he’d picked up from his girlfriend, Fiona, but it never took into account the unexpected obstacles fires loved to create without warning. His need for an alternate exit while carrying extra weight on his shoulders sprang to mind.
Girlfriend, Wyatt? Really?
She didn’t approve of the word. Complicated was how he usually referred to their relationship. Exciting, messy, all-consuming—those worked, too.
He’d added confusing and frustrating as hell to the list when Fiona had left his bed three weeks ago without waking him up to say goodbye or letting him take her to the airport.
He understood why she’d left the time before. He’d handled things so badly even he was grateful for the temporary reprieve. But this? She’d only been back for maybe six months before she’d told him she was heading out again. What kind of class was she auditing in California that she couldn’t take here?
More importantly, was she planning on coming back?
Would he still be here if she did?
You won’t if you don’t get moving, dear. Wall of fire in front of you.
Oxygen deprivation was already affecting his ability to focus and putting Fiona’s voice in his head. He needed to get his shit together and get them out of this. As soon as he did, he could head to the pub to celebrate their survival while drowning his sorrows. He’d call it multitasking.
I still won’t be there.
Fine then, not the pub. There were plenty of other bars that weren’t owned or frequented by his family. He couldn’t think of any that he wanted to go to alone, but they’d do in a pinch.
“First, we’ve got to get you out of here.”
Noah was the only one who mattered right now. The injured man over his shoulder had a kid to get home to, and Wyatt refused to be the one who let that little guy down. Who let his brother down.
“Give me something.” He coughed and studied the room again. “What do you think of that, man? Might work, right?” He turned his body slightly so his brother could see what he was talking about.
Noah didn’t respond, and he hadn’t expected him to, but running things by him was too deeply ingrained a habit for him to stop now, and it helped him think. He stared at the large filing cabinet that had already been partially dislodged from the far wall. It was in a good position, and already leaning. If he angled it right… Yeah. That would do it.
He navigated around tilted desks, tangled melting cords and unrecognizable piles of wet, still sizzling trash until he was close enough to place his boot on the huge metal cabinet and shove, directing it into the fire. He closed his eyes tightly and swung his brother away as it crashed into the crackling flames, spitting sparks and more burning ash into the swirling air around him. When he glanced back, he saw that his temporary firebreak had done exactly what he needed it to do.