by Lisa Childs
For months he had secretly been paying half of Stanley’s room and board. A lot of people talked about Cody—about his skirt-chasing, about his bar-brawling, about his risk-taking—but nobody talked about his generosity. Because they didn’t know.
Only she knew that there was more to Cody than the rumors swirling around Northern Lakes, and that made him even more attractive to her. She glanced down at the cash; there was enough to get the air fixed now, even if the condenser was beyond repair like the serviceman had already warned her.
“Thank you,” she murmured. She should have been relieved, but there was an emptiness inside her. While it was enough money to fix the air-conditioning, it wasn’t enough to satisfy the lawsuit. She needed more if she was going to have any hope of keeping her family heritage.
He leaned over her desk, so close that his face nearly touched hers as he murmured in her ear, “And remember—”
Remember? What was she supposed to remember? With him so close she could barely think.
“—this is between you and me.” His breath caressed the side of her face, making her skin tingle. “Stanley can’t ever know.”
Cody had brought Stanley to her boardinghouse when the kid had turned eighteen and lost his eligibility to stay in foster care. She wasn’t sure how he even knew the kid or why he cared. But he did—obviously a lot.
She shook her head, but he hadn’t moved his. Their mouths nearly touched. She drew in a shaky breath and assured him, “I haven’t told anyone.”
“It’s our little secret then,” he said. The amusement was back, glinting in his green eyes. He didn’t straighten up and move away. Instead he leaned closer.
She could feel the heat of his breath on her lips now. Her lashes fluttered in anticipation of his mouth moving over hers. He was going to kiss her.
But then an alarm rang out. He jerked away from her as he pulled his cell phone from his pocket. He cursed.
“There’s a fire?”
He spared her only a quick nod before turning to rush out the door. She hoped the arsonist hadn’t struck again; the last fire he’d started had been too close.
Hopefully something else had caused a fire. Lightning. Bad wiring. An overheated car.
Or Cody Mallehan.
Because she was pretty sure he’d started a fire inside her. Her fingers trembling, she fished out another ice cube. She could dump the whole glass down her tank top, but she doubted it would cool the desire she felt for her new boarder.
3
CODY HAD PUT OUT one fire with the extinguisher he carried in his truck. But there was another fire he couldn’t put out. The one burning between him and his hot landlady…
If the fire alarm on his phone hadn’t rung, he might have done something really stupid. He might have kissed her. Their mouths had been so close that he’d almost tasted the sugar on her lips from her glass of sweet tea. Remembering the trail the ice cube had taken from her throat, over the swell of her breast to disappear in her cleavage, he groaned.
“What’s the matter with you?” Dawson Hess asked. The dark-haired guy sat next to Cody in the big conference room on the third floor of the firehouse.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“That groan is the first sound I’ve heard you make since you rolled in here late,” Dawson said.
During the meeting Cody had managed to hold in his disappointment that they still had no leads on the arsonist. But that was just about all he remembered of the meeting.
“You’re never quiet,” Wyatt chimed in from the other side of Dawson. His blue gaze held some concern. “What’s wrong?”
Owen James leaned forward from the chairs behind them and asked, “Something’s wrong?”
In addition to being a Hotshot, the former army medic was an emergency medical tech for Northern Lakes during the off-season. Like the rest of them, he’d no doubt been stationed at home again because of the arsonist. So far nobody had been seriously hurt in any of the fires.
But the arsonist was getting more and more dangerous. It would only be a matter of time—unless they stopped him.
Cody shook his head and reassured them all. He forced his usual cocky grin. “Just getting sick of doing all the work around here.”
Concern gone, Wyatt snorted—which Owen echoed.
“Hey, I had to put out a car fire on my way in,” Cody said. “That’s why I was late.”
“That fire was on M87,” Owen said. “What were you doing out there?”
“I’m staying out that way,” Cody replied.
“At the Beaumont boardinghouse?” Wyatt asked.
He nodded.
Wyatt snorted again. “That’s not going to last.”
“Why not?”
“Serena Beaumont isn’t going to put up with you hitting on her,” Wyatt said. “She’s like Fiona used to be.”
“She thinks getting involved with a firefighter is too great a risk because of our dangerous jobs?” As an insurance agent, Fiona O’Brien had statistics to back up her belief. Unfortunately, the wildfires burning out west had added to those statistics when a few more firefighters had lost their lives battling those blazes. The Huron Hotshots had spent a few weeks helping out there, but their greatest threat was at home.
Wyatt shrugged. “Serena is Fiona’s friend. But I don’t know her really well. Since her mom died last year, she’s been busy trying to run that boardinghouse all by herself.”
With the size of the place, Cody could understand how just cleaning it would keep her busy. But cooking and caring for people, too?
That was why he preferred to live alone now that he had a choice. He’d loved his cabin out in the middle of nowhere. Then, he hadn’t had to put up with, or take care of, anyone else. Sure, it had been too quiet sometimes. But that was just because he was used to noise, used to people being around.
It didn’t mean that he hated being alone. Or that he got lonely…
A person could be lonely even living in a house full of people. Was Serena lonely?
Something seemed to have been bothering her earlier. She’d looked upset or sad. But maybe she still missed her mom. Cody wouldn’t know what that might be like. You couldn’t miss what you’d never had.
“So you’re saying she doesn’t have any time to put up with Cody’s flirty bullshit,” Dawson summed up for Wyatt.
But she’d given Cody her time. She hadn’t thrown him out of her office when he’d flirted with her earlier. She hadn’t pulled away when he’d leaned in close.
Her thick lashes had fluttered, and she had closed her big, dark eyes as if anticipating his kiss. His stomach muscles tightened; he’d wanted to kiss her, to taste her…
But it was better that he hadn’t. “I didn’t know that she lost her mom last year.” All he’d known was that she owned a huge house and was damn hot.
Dawson nodded. “Owen and I went out on the call.” If he wasn’t too busy with his assistant superintendent duties, Dawson occasionally helped out at as paramedic.
“She died right in that house,” Owen added with a soft sigh. “We got there as quickly as we could, but we were too late to save her. Serena had tried—unsuccessfully—to resuscitate her until we got there.”
Cody cursed. He remembered that frustration of being unable to save someone. He’d been just a kid when he’d watched a person die for the first time. The boy had been in the same foster home as Cody, but not for long. Nobody had been warned of the five-year-old’s peanut allergy—until it had been too late to save him. The home had been shut down after his death and Cody moved to another one.
“She’s been through a lot,” Owen said sympathetically, as if that EMT call still bothered him.
All of the Hotshots worked in other capacities in the off-season. Wyatt and Braden manned the Northern Lakes firehouse. Cody worked as a US Forest Service ranger and backup for the firehouse. Dawson also worked as a backup firefighter and backup EMT. Owen worked primarily as an EMT and usually ran out of the hospita
l some forty-five minutes north of Northern Lakes.
Wyatt leaned closer and warned Cody, “So don’t mess with her.”
Cody hated messes and getting involved with his landlady would definitely lead to one. He nodded his agreement, but then that vision of the ice cube sliding down into her cleavage flashed behind his eyes.
“As soon as Avery’s place is rebuilt, you can take my cabin,” Dawson offered.
“You’re moving in with her?” Cody asked. He had never lived with anyone before—at least, not just one person. There had usually been several other kids in those foster homes, especially the group ones he’d lived in when he’d gotten older.
Dawson grinned. “Not that she’ll be home much with her new job.”
After breaking the story of the arsonist attacking Northern Lakes, the reporter had received more attention than the culprit, which had led to an impressive new career opportunity for her.
“Has the arsonist tried to contact her again?” Cody asked.
Dawson’s brow furrowed. “I already answered that question during the meeting.”
“I must have missed that part…” Because he’d been thinking about that damn ice cube with an envy he’d never felt before. Of course, he’d been preoccupied with Serena since he’d brought Stanley out to live with her. For the past few months he’d been having erotic dreams about her. He’d been obsessed with images of her long, silky hair—of only her hair covering the sweet curves of her naked body.
“You were sitting right next to me,” Dawson pointed out. He stared intently at Cody, as if trying to figure out what was going on with him.
He didn’t know himself. While he enjoyed women, he had never let one distract him from his job before. Unnerved, he forced some more cockiness into his voice to cover it up. “You know I don’t listen unless I’m the one talking.”
Wyatt chuckled. “Ain’t that the truth.”
Dawson didn’t seem to buy the explanation as easily. But he answered Cody’s question. “No, the arsonist hasn’t contacted her.” He sounded relieved.
But they could have used another lead. Any lead…
“This must be killing you,” Ethan Sommerly commented as he dropped onto the chair next to Owen and right behind Cody.
Dawson turned fully around and said, “We all want the arsonist caught.”
“I know that,” Ethan said. “I was talking about Mallehan having to stick around Northern Lakes in case the arsonist decides to strike again.” His huge hand grabbed Cody’s shoulder. “It has to be killing you to stay in one place.”
Ethan was a ranger, too—in a vast national forest in the upper peninsula. He actually enjoyed living in the middle of nowhere and nothing, which Cody had often needled him about. With his bushy beard and long hair, the guy looked like a mountain man.
Cody grinned and faked a shudder. “You know me.”
Everybody thought they did. And Cody would have agreed with them until now. Now—with thoughts of a woman distracting him from the job that meant everything to him—he wasn’t even sure he knew himself.
*
“DO YOU HAVE a strong lock for your bedroom door?” Serena’s insurance agent asked.
“I have dead bolts on all the doors,” Serena replied. “You know that. I thought you were already giving me a discount.” Not that she used them… She didn’t want to lock out a boarder who might have forgotten his key.
“I’m not talking about protecting the house,” Fiona O’Brien explained. “I’m worried about you protecting yourself.”
No matter how much she needed money for the house upkeep and property taxes, Serena had never risked her own safety or the other tenants’ safety by renting to someone unsavory.
“I do background checks on all the boarders,” she said. When she’d rented to Stanley, she had also done background checks on Cody, since he was paying most of Stanley’s rent. In addition to no criminal record, he had excellent credit. “I’m safe here.”
Tammy Ingles picked up a magazine from the old chest in the sitting area at the end of the kitchen. She waved it back and forth in front of her glistening face. Despite the heat, the beautician’s makeup was perfect, just like the artful curls in her colorfully streaked hair. “You’re not safe anymore.”
“I might be in danger of melting,” Serena said. The repairman wasn’t able to come out for a few days, so she had no relief from the heat. Though it didn’t seem quite as hot in the house since Cody had left.
He had been gone for hours. How long had the Hotshots meeting been? Or had the fire call kept him occupied?
Or a woman?
A pang of jealousy struck her heart. But she drew in a breath and reminded herself his seeing someone else would be for the best. She needed Cody’s money more than his fleeting attention.
“You have to stay strong,” Fiona said. “Don’t let him melt you.”
“Him?” she asked. “I was talking about the broken air conditioner.”
“Better the AC be broken than your heart,” Fiona warned her.
Her heart was breaking, but the lawsuit—not a man—was the cause. However, she hadn’t mentioned the lawsuit to her friends. There was nothing they could do to help her. Neither of the women had the kind of money she needed.
“What are you talking about?” she asked Fiona.
“Cody Mallehan,” Fiona said. “Wyatt told me he’s moved in here.”
“Is that why you two stopped in to visit?” She’d been happy to see her friends for a few reasons. She missed them. She was usually so busy with the house and her boarders that she didn’t get to see them as much as she liked. She’d also welcomed the distraction from her worries about the house and from her preoccupation with her new boarder.
“You don’t get to town much,” Tammy said.
She didn’t get to town, but the town seemed to come to her—with the gossip her boarders and her friends brought back to her. A smile pulled up the corners of her mouth. “You’ve mentioned him to me before,” she reminded them. “And even if you hadn’t, you don’t think I could figure out for myself what a womanizer he is?”
Fiona groaned. “He already hit on you.”
Tammy snorted. “Of course, he hit on her. He’s Cody. He hits on you and Avery all the time—even though you’re with his friends.”
“He does that just to irritate Wyatt and Dawson,” Fiona said.
“He does it because he can’t help but flirt with any female with a pulse,” Tammy said.
Tammy would understand that behavior; she had a reputation of being quite the flirt herself. Serena suspected this was because of Tammy’s awkward teens. Now that she’d lost the weight and cleared up her complexion, their brunette friend enjoyed male attention. But with Tammy it was mostly just flirting. Apparently Cody did more than just flirt.
Serena chuckled. “So you’re saying I shouldn’t take his attention personally? He’s going to hit on Mrs. Gulliver too? She is pretty cute.”
Tammy smiled. “Don’t you love the pink streaks I put in her hair?”
“She loves them, too,” Serena assured the stylist. “She’s been talking about adding some purple ones.”
Tammy clapped her hands together. “That’s great. She’s eighty-six and open to change. When are you going to let me change your hair?”
Serena shrugged. “I don’t have time.”
But she actually kept it long and straight, because it reminded her of how her mother always wore her hair.
“Exactly,” Tammy said. “You’re too busy to deal with all that hair. Let me cut it off for you.”
“Hell no!” a deep voice exclaimed. Cody rushed into the kitchen as if ready to throw himself between Serena and a pair of scissors. “That would be a crime.”
Wyatt sauntered in behind his friend. “You’re a firefighter, not a cop,” he reminded Cody. Then he pulled his fiancée into his arms and planted a big kiss on her—as if he hadn’t seen her in days, instead of hours.
Serena felt that pa
ng of jealousy again; she was envious of her friend. She wanted that kind of love—that kind of connection.
Cody was here. Staying in the same house. And he apparently liked her hair. But he wasn’t looking for love. Even without her friends’ warnings, she would have recognized that.
“Cutting hair is not a crime,” Tammy said.
“Cutting her hair would be,” he insisted. And he reached out as if to finger one of the long strands. But he caught himself and pulled his hand back to his side.
Serena’s face heated with embarrassment that she and her hair had become the topic of conversation. “What I decide to do about my hair is unimportant,” she said. “Have you learned anything more about the arsonist?”
Hopefully they’d caught him. She couldn’t get over how close she had come to losing her home in the last big fire. She gazed around the kitchen at the cabinets she and Mama had stripped and re-stained a rich chocolate color, several shades lighter than the oak floor they’d also refinished. There was no part of the house—structure, contents or residents—that Serena and her mother hadn’t cared for.
“Yes,” Fiona chimed in, “do you have any leads yet?”
Wyatt sighed and shook his head.
And Cody clenched his jaw so tightly a muscle twitched in his cheek. They were clearly troubled that they hadn’t caught the guy yet.
Serena’s nurturing instincts—inherited from Mama—kicked in and she turned toward the refrigerator. “I saved you some dinner,” she said. “There’s enough for everyone.” She pulled out the fried chicken and potato salad she’d made earlier.
Fiona groaned. “If I didn’t have an appointment to try on wedding gowns, I’d take you up on that offer. But I need to watch what I’m eating.”
“No, you don’t,” Wyatt said as his hand slid over the curve of his fiancée’s hip. “You’re perfect just as you are.”
The envy kicked in again. But she couldn’t be jealous of her friend. Fiona deserved her happiness.
Tammy emitted a wistful sigh. “You two make me sick.” It was clear she wanted what they had, too.
Cody was the only one who didn’t seem envious. His focus was on the chicken instead. He pulled a leg from the bowl she’d set on the counter. But he looked at her as he bit through the crispy coating. Then he moaned with pleasure.
