Then there was her worry about the lack of a security system. She added an extra deadbolt and slept with her can of bear spray nearby, but it turned out that living above a big strong fire chief made her feel much safer than living alone.
She slept like a baby knowing he was downstairs—that was, when she wasn’t thinking naughty thoughts about him.
Darius also had a habit of doing thoughtful things that took her by surprise. He trimmed the unruly hedges that Emma had planted. He shoveled moose poop off the lawn. When they started running out of hot water in the mornings, he let her get first crack at a shower.
And then there was the railing of the blue staircase, which had broken during her move-in. Fixing it was obviously her responsibility.
But there he was, on this beautiful sunny morning, hard at work on it.
Tool belt and everything.
She practically had a hot flash when she caught sight of him. It took several moments for her to catch her breath as she came down the sidewalk.
He stopped in the midst of hammering the last nail into the new length of wood he’d installed.
“I was going to fix that,” she told him. “That’s what landladies are for.”
“I had a few minutes, and it’s an easy fix. I had the wood in my stash already.”
“Your stash?”
“Leftovers from other repairs around here.”
“Well, I’m happy to take it off your rent.”
He laughed and tucked the hammer back into his tool belt. “Not necessary. I had to get a box of threepenny nails, you can reimburse me for that if you want.”
“Sure, how much was that?” She reached into her back pocket, where she still had change left from a fertilizer purchase.
“A dollar and seventy-six cents,” he said dryly. “Or a return favor, if you prefer.”
“What kind of favor?” she asked warily. Chances were, it would be harder to deliver than a dollar and seventy-six cents.
“Ever heard of the Lost Harbor Puffins?”
“Your hockey team?”
“Yeah. We have a game tonight, and I promised S.G. I’d bring her. But it turns out I have to get out to the rink early to help set up. She knows you, so I thought maybe you could bring her.”
She pretended to think about it, tapping her finger on her chin. “Can I just drop her off or do I have to watch the game too?”
His smiled dipped. “Up to you. I can take her home, no problem.”
“I’m just joking.” She gave him a light tap on the arm and got yet another reminder of how damn hard his muscles were. “There’s nothing I’d rather do than watch sweaty men fight over an inanimate object while skating across the ice.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “You know it’s not just men, right? We have two women on the team. So I’ll thank you to keep your sexist remarks to yourself.” He followed that up with a grin.
She actually did feel a bit embarrassed by her assumption. “Point taken. Thanks for enlightening me.”
He lifted his eyebrows in surprise.
“I can admit when I’m wrong,” she said with all the dignity she could manage—even though she hated being wrong.
Still smiling, he began unbuckling his tool belt.
“What are you doing?” she asked nervously. It was such a sexy move, whether intentionally or not.
“Gotta get out to the rink. The railing’s fixed, though it could use a coat of paint. The game starts at seven, and S.G. won’t want to miss a thing. I’ll leave you both tickets and I’m happy to spring for popcorn or peanuts or—”
She stopped him with a gesture. “That’s okay, I’ll take care of it. See you there at seven. Knock em dead. Or knock their teeth out, whatever it is that hockey players say for good luck.”
He laughed as he headed for his own door on the other side of the garage. She turned as he passed her. Yup, the rear view was just as mouthwatering as the front one. “We generally just say ‘have a good one,’ or ‘loser buys the first round.’ But thanks for the visual.”
She could definitely say the same as she watched him disappear around the corner.
That visual was just a tease, as it turned out. An even better visual awaited her at the hockey rink. She’d never been inside the building that contained the rink, but she’d passed it many times on her way to the harbor boardwalk. To her, it seemed strange that a place with so many frozen lakes and ponds would have an ice rink.
But once she saw the way the game was played, she understood. They needed those boards along the side for the players to crash against. What fun would it be if you couldn’t body slam a piece of plexiglass while skating fifty miles per hour?
She actually had no idea how fast they were going, but she could barely keep track of who was who as the players sped back and forth across the ice.
Except for Darius, of course, who was the tallest person on the Lost Harbor team. The other team, from Kodiak, had an extremely tall Russian player, but they wore dark blue jerseys instead of white, so it was easy to keep track of Darius.
For a big man, he was pretty agile out there on that ice. He used his size to intimidate the opposing players, or to sneak his stick between two people and whip the puck over to someone on his team. She recognized Zander Ross, Gretel’s boyfriend/fiancé/ex-husband, but no one else on the team.
“How do they even keep track of that little thing?” she marveled to S.G. as they shared a bag of corn chips.
“It’s black and the ice is white.” S.G. sat on the edge of her seat, completely wrapped up in every move the players made. “Did you know they’re not supposed to punch each other?”
“I did not. How unfair,” she said dryly.
S.G. waved at someone on the other side of the rink. Kate followed her gaze and saw a boy sitting alone on the far bleachers. He wore a thick gray fleece hoodie against the chill of the rink, so she couldn’t make out his face. He was watching the players very closely.
“Friend of yours?”
“It’s no one,” said S.G..
Interesting. S.G. was generally one of the most truthful people Kate knew. She usually only lied by omission, as in neglecting to mention that she had homework to do. In answer to a direct question, she always told the truth.
But obviously the boy wasn’t “no one.” In fact, the two of them seemed to be conducting a kind of silent communication by way of tilts of the head and shoulder movements.
“Why don’t you just go and talk to him?” Kate finally said, exasperated by all the twitching going on next to her.
“What do you mean?”
Fine, so she still wanted to play dumb. Have it her way.
“Goal!” the girl shouted and jumped to her feet, thrusting her arms into the air. “Darius just scored! Go, Darius!!”
Damn, she’d missed his big moment. She applauded and whistled along with the rest of the crowd. Darius circled the ice, waving his hockey stick in the air to acknowledge the applause, and she could have sworn he aimed a grin her direction.
Shortly after that, the first period ended. Darius pulled off his helmet and glided toward the area where Kate and S.G. were sitting.
“Come on, let’s go say hi,” said S.G., jumping to her feet. They made their way down the bleacher steps until they reached the protective boards placed around the rink.
“Nice goal,” S.G. told him. “I thought you were passing to the forward.”
“That was the plan, but I saw an opening.” He shoved a sweat-soaked chunk of hair off his face. “You guys having fun?”
“Actually, yeah,” Kate told him. “Other than freezing my ass off, I’ve had a great time.”
He blinked sweat out of his eyes, looking a little self-conscious. “Did you catch that last goal?”
His expression was just too cute for words. She hated to break it to him that she’d missed it.
“Sorry, I was distracted.” She pulled an apologetic face. “Next time, I’ll make sure to watch.”
“Next tim
e? You think that happens often? It’ll probably be next year by the time I make another goal.” He laughed as he tugged his sweaty jersey away from his chest.
“How was I supposed to know that? I’m more of a basketball fan. People sink baskets all time.”
“Guess I’ll have to switch sports, then.” He skated backwards a few strokes, then forward again. Probably trying to stay loose. “Anything to impress my landlady.”
Oh, she was impressed. That wasn’t the problem. The problem was pretending she wasn’t.
She glanced at the spot next to her, only to realize that the girl had skipped away somewhere. Scanning the bleachers, she spotted S.G. huddled on the bench next to the boy in the hoodie. They were deep in a conversation.
“Hey, do you know that kid?” she asked Darius. “I think he’s a new friend of S.G.’s, and she’s being very weird about him.”
He turned to look for himself, then shook his head. “Doesn’t look familiar, but I can’t really see his face.”
A horn blared, which was apparently the sign for the players to resume their spots on the ice.
“Watch closely,” Darius warned as he plopped his helmet back on his head and fastened it. “I’d hate for you to miss another big goal.”
“Does it even count if no one saw it?”
He fastened his chinstrap with a flourish. “Read the scoreboard, baby. Read it and weep.” He dug the blade of one skate into the ice and turned with a swish, ice particles flying through the air. With swift, lethal strokes, he rejoined his teammates.
His use of the word “baby” sent the weirdest thrill through her. She imagined him saying it in bed, right before he stretched his big body over her. What do you feel like, baby? You want it fast or slow? Hard or soft?
Oh for fuck’s sake. She was totally losing it. Maybe she should have slept with Darius at the Moose is Loose after all. Then she wouldn’t still be fantasizing about it.
Flawed logic, obviously. She might still be fantasizing about it, except she’d have more concrete details to fill in the blanks.
Chapter Eleven
Over the next few weeks, five more fires got called in to the station. None of them caused any damage to a residence or a person. An empty woodshed out on MacKenzie Ridge burned down. A junk car got torched near the campgrounds. Two of the fires involved stacks of pallets. Other than the fact that they were minor fires, Darius could detect no pattern.
Even residents outside the volunteer fire department noticed the unusual fire activity. People started coming up to him on the street and asking him what was going on.
It was frustrating as hell.
Even more frustrating than living below Kate, listening to her move about upstairs, wondering what she was doing or wearing or saying.
Even though they kept a careful distance from each other, he’d noticed a few new things about her. For one, she was extremely cautious. She’d installed extra locks on the door. In a town like Lost Harbor, where some people didn’t even have locks, that was surprising.
When she hopped out of her Saab, she always held her keys so they could serve as a weapon. Who was she defending herself against? Stray porcupines?
He asked Maya about it one night at the city council meeting. The two of them were working on a bond issue to construct separate buildings for the fire and police departments. Right now they were located in the same compound and things could get a little tight.
As they waited to deliver their report to the city council, he leaned over and whispered, “Kate Robinson. My new landlady. Is everything okay with her?”
“What are you talking about?” Maya was in full uniform, with her hair slicked back and pinned tightly to her head. He wouldn’t be surprised if she gave him a ticket for talking.
“She seems a little extra vigilant.”
She folded her lips together, looking thoughtful. “Honestly? I don’t know. But trouble has a way of following Kate around. Always has.”
“But she’s a lawyer.”
“And? She’s still Kate. Also, her family is…” She trailed off, shaking her head. “Will you keep me informed if there’s anything I need to know?”
“As her friend or as the police chief?”
“Both, I guess.”
The mayor called her up to the stage at that point, while he chewed that over.
Was Kate in some kind of danger?
If she were, would she tell him about it?
And was she ever going to relax her “no-flirting” policy?
He could be patient. Patience was one of his strengths. He’d worked on it over the years, as he’d risen in the ranks of the fire service. Patience when dealing with young rookies, patience with city councils, patience when dealing with lonely elders who called the fire department for trivial things.
Sometimes he wondered how his two marriages would have gone if he’d had more patience back then. But since he’d only been nineteen the first time around, he’d barely even known the word “patient.”
The second marriage might have gone differently, but he doubted it. Amelie hadn’t been looking for patience from him. She’d wanted “rough” Darius, the rougher, the better. He’d given her what she wanted, until he didn’t want to be that person anymore. At which point, she’d dumped him.
But everything was different now. He was older, wiser, more jaded, more realistic, and more patient.
If the right time came, and he and Kate were both still feeling the vibe, maybe things would go his way. If not, he wasn’t going to cry about it. He was all grown up now and he knew that life was no fairy tale—or even an Amish romance.
That didn’t stop his pulse from kicking up when someone knocked on his door one morning. He had a rare weekday off from the firehouse and had slept in.
He was still shirtless and barefoot, having just come out of the shower. He reached for a t-shirt, then decided that Kate wouldn’t mind a look at his bare chest. He’d seen the way she snuck glances at him. Besides, he had to seize every opportunity to remind her of what had almost happened between them. And what could happen, if they chose it.
But when he opened the door, he found himself facing a man instead of a feisty brunette. The stranger was almost as tall as he was, with alert eyes that sounded an alarm for Darius. Despite his friendly smile, this man had an agenda. A law-enforcement-related agenda. Even though he wore jeans and a hunter’s jacket, he clearly wasn’t a local. Something about his hair and clean-shaven look signaled “not from around here.”
“Sorry to bother you so early. My name is Ethan James.” The man pulled out a plastic ID case and flipped it open. “I’m a private investigator from California. Nothing alarming, I promise.”
Doing his due diligence, Darius took the ID and studied it. The James Agency, based in Los Angeles, California. No reason to doubt it.
No reason to start off on a bad foot, either. As the fire chief, he too was part of the law enforcement system.
“Darius Boone.” He offered his hand and they shared a firm handshake. “Give me a second, I’ll be right with you.” He stepped aside and pulled on his t-shirt. “Want some coffee?”
“Nope, I just grabbed some at Gretel’s Cafe. Didn’t it used to be called something else?” Ethan stayed at the threshold of the door, which Darius appreciated.
“You can come on in,” he offered. Ethan took a few steps inside, revealing a slight limp as he did so.
With a mug of coffee in hand, Darius sat on the arm of his sofa and scrutinized his unexpected guest. “You’ve been to Lost Harbor before?”
“Yeah, I played bodyguard to a friend for a few days. Fell in love with this little town.”
“Let me guess. Padric Jeffers?”
Padric was the only real celebrity from Lost Harbor who might conceivably need a bodyguard. He was a globally famous rock star who had grown up here and recently returned, at least part time.
Ethan just smiled slightly, which was another point in his favor in Darius’ book. He wasn’t he
re to discuss his clients, obviously.
“So how can I help you?” Darius asked after a sip of his coffee, black and scorching the way he liked it.
“I’m looking for someone. A woman.”
Darius tried to keep his expression neutral, but he must have shown some kind of reaction, because Ethan quickly continued.
“She’s not in any kind of trouble or danger. I was hired by a law firm to find her because her testimony could be useful for a case they’re building.”
“Must be really useful, to send someone all the way to Lost Harbor.”
Ethan smiled. “I’m not privy to the details. I’m just doing my part.”
“What’s her name?”
“Her birth name is Catriona Robinson. But she’s also known as Catriona Fletcher.”
Darius kept his expression completely neutral. Kate had more than one name? That was a bit of a shocker, and he didn’t like it one bit. He wanted to find out more before he gave away any information to this investigator.
“Never heard of a Catriona Fletcher. But I’m relatively new in town. You might have better luck talking to Maya Badger, the police chief. She knows everyone. That’s not an exaggeration.”
Ethan nodded amiably. “Always an option. But my information led me to this location.”
“Well, sorry. Give me your card, I’ll call you if anything comes to mind.” He got to his feet, ready to be done with this conversation.
Ethan pulled out his phone and clicked on a photo. “I have a picture of her. She might be using a different name.” He aimed the phone in Darius’ direction.
A woman’s face filled the screen. It was the kind of photo taken for work ID purposes—no smile, straight to camera. She wore a black blazer over a light gray silk top—it looked expensive. In the unflattering lighting, it was hard to see the color of her eyes.
But it was definitely Kate. A professional career woman version of Kate.
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