Flash Storm Read online

  A sexy firefighter gets a second chance with his first love in New York Times bestselling author Jill Shalvis’s fan-favorite novella.

  Sam Reed—firefighter and volunteer for Search And Rescue—is the definition of fit: sculpted muscles, hard abs and the ability to stride into any blaze. But he’s about to walk into a fire that even he might not be able to put out. And its name is Sara. Sara, his ex-girlfriend. The Sara he’d proposed to one day only to find out the next that she’d bailed and moved to Paris. Without a word.

  Now she’s back. And on their mountain. Heading for their spot. But without a guide and in the middle of a wicked storm, she’s headed for disaster. Unless he can rescue her. Rescue them both.

  Let the sparks fly….

  Originally published in 2008.

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you SO MUCH for buying a Shalvis classic romance! These books might predate the digital age, but they’re still fun and sexy! We hope you enjoy this peek at my earlier work!

  Best wishes and happy reading!

  Jill Shalvis

  www.jillshalvis.com

  Flash Storm

  Jill Shalvis

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  CHAPTER 1

  Naked and still exhausted, Sam Reed laid on his back in his bed staring at the ceiling and considered the irony that as a firefighter, his life was on the line—daily—and yet he’d nearly been taken out by a cold.

  Freaking pathetic.

  Thank God today he was feeling much better. He tested himself by raising his head, which didn’t fall off. Progress. He’d been off work for four straight days, and the sleep medication had helped. His fever was gone. Better yet, when he sat up then staggered to his feet, he didn’t want to die from the movement.

  Nice.

  He took a shower, dressed and drove himself to the nearest drive-thru for his first real meal in days. He parked at the beach to eat his breakfast of champions while watching the rough winds and gathering storm churn up perfect five foot California surf that he wished he was out in. Halfway through his bag of cholesterol, he got a text from Search and Rescue where he put in extra hours every month—they had a female hiker reported lost up in Big Falls Canyon.

  And a bad storm brewing, too. Shit.

  Big Falls was the mountain range just outside of Santa Rey, and though the trailhead was only several miles from civilization, once someone stepped on the trail and started hiking and surrounding themselves in the centuries old, several hundred feet high thick conifers and pines, it was incredibly easy to get lost in the wilderness. It happened all the time—which was why Search And Rescue kept so busy. But during a storm, getting lost could mean getting dead.

  He set aside the rest of the food, slurped in half of the orange juice for the sugar rush, and headed to S&R headquarters—the ranger station at the base of Big Falls.

  But the station was locked—as it often was early on a weekday morning during the off-season. Huh. He eyed the envelope sticking out the corner of the door. It had his name on it, as did the note inside. The small, neat, female writing was oddly familiar, and once he started reading, the words snagged him by the throat and squeezed.

  Dear Sam,

  Yes, I’m back. I’m sorry to bring you up here on false pretenses, but I knew it was the only way you’d agree to talk to me.

  Besides, it’s not really entirely false pretenses. I’m up the trail waiting for you, heading toward the spot where we used to go. I’m probably already lost looking for it.

  Please don’t leave me up here by myself. It’s been five years and believe me, I’ll need you.

  Yours,

  Sara

  Sara.

  Just her name brought it all back. Being young and wild and stupid in love with her in high school. Being young and wild and stupid in love with her while he’d gone through the fire academy, and she to design school. Being young and wild and stupid in love with her until the day she’d left him for Paris and the fashion world.

  Without a word.

  But that had been five years ago and he’d gotten over her. So over her.

  So why was his gut twisted up like a pretzel?

  Lifting his head, he took in the increasingly darkening sky, then the trailhead—which disappeared up the mountain in a series of twists and turns. She’d asked if he remembered their spot.

  He remembered.

  And if she was heading toward it, she’d have an unwelcome surprise. There was no longer a trail all the way to that old abandoned ranger station, and she could indeed get lost—quite easily.

  He considered turning around. But he’d never turned his back on a stranger, so he couldn’t very well do it to someone who wasn’t a stranger at all, much as he wanted to. Instead, he swore to himself and began heading up the damn trail.

  CHAPTER 2

  Was she doing the right thing? Sara wished she knew, but the truth was, she’d lost her trust in her instincts long ago. Or maybe she’d just lost her trust in her own decisions, specifically the one she’d made to leave California for Paris.

  When she thought about what she’d given up in order to go off and find herself, her heart physically hurt. It had hurt the whole five years she’d been gone. She’d played at design, flitted around, all under the guise of growing up, but the truth had been far less flattering.

  She’d been running.

  And when she’d realized that painful truth, she had to face the rest. That the running had to stop. That she had to learn to deal with and face her emotions, no matter how scary.

  So she’d come back to California with some definite goals—starting with finding happiness. To do that, she had to makes amends, right all her wrongs.

  Her biggest wrong? Walking away from Sam and the best relationship she’d ever had.

  But she knew he would never have talked to her if she’d just called him up and asked. Which meant she had to concoct this crazy scheme to get him up here.

  After at least a half a mile of walking straight up the narrow trail, she came to a fork where she could go straight, or veer off on another trail to the left, neither of which looked familiar. “Damn.”

  It was far colder up here than she remembered, and her lightweight blouse and cargos—while perfectly designed and sewn by hers truly—were no protection from the wind. It whipped up around her, tossing her hair, stinging her cheeks, making her wonder if she was doing the right thing by forcing a reunion with the man who in all likelihood hated her.

  But she had to try. She’d have no inner peace until she did. “So the question is,” she asked herself, “left or straight?”

  “Right.”

  Oh, God. At the low, sexy, unbearably familiar voice, everything within her quivered, and as she turned, she put a hand to her heart because it felt like the organ was going to burst right out of her chest.

  There he was—Sam Reed, just over six feet of tall, lean, rugged, sexy man. He had short dark hair and dark eyes to match, the gorgeous coloring he’d gotten from his Latin mother. He wore baggy Levi’s low on his hips and a dark blue T-shirt with the words Search And Rescue—Santa Rey Division on a pec. He wasn’t smiling, but she happened to know that when he did smile, it came off a little sweet, some charming, and had a whole lot of wicked naught