by Lisa Childs
“That’s good,” she said. “That’s why I came in here—to see if you needed anything.”
“Just you.”
She shook her head. “No. You’re my boarder. We can’t get involved.”
“It would be a bad idea,” he reluctantly agreed.
She nodded.
“You would fall all crazy in love with me,” he teased. “And then I’d break your heart when I leave.”
Her face was still pale, but she emitted a faint laugh. “Yeah, right…”
“I will leave,” he told her. He’d put in his two seasons with the Hotshots to get the experience needed for smoke jumping. Once a position opened, it was his. It had to be—because he had to leave. Soon. Maybe even sooner if she kept looking at him that way.
Like she knew him. He had to make sure she really did. “I always leave,” he warned.
“Why?” she asked.
“Because it’s better that way.”
“Better for whom?”
Better for him, but he’d learned that the hard way. When he’d been younger, he had naively gotten attached, first to those adoptive parents—or so his social worker had told him—and then to other foster families. He’d started thinking he was staying only to be moved to another home. Now he was older and wiser. He knew to move along before he got attached to anyone. Then he couldn’t get rejected.
“It’s better for everyone,” he assured her. “I don’t get bored, and nobody gets hurt.” He wasn’t just protecting himself this time. He was protecting her.
*
SO MUCH FOR seducing him into not suing her. He’d found the very idea hilarious—as if she couldn’t have succeeded. Not that she would have tried. So Serena’s pride shouldn’t have been stung when he’d laughed.
Or when he’d agreed that it would be a bad idea for them to sleep together. It wasn’t as if she had time for a relationship anyway.
At least she only had one lawsuit to worry about; Cody obviously had no intention of suing her. He probably wouldn’t stick around long enough to file a suit. Hopefully he would pay his and Stanley’s room and board for a few more months, though.
She needed proof of that income in order to apply for a mortgage or a business loan. She had no idea what else she needed to qualify. But she intended to find out.
She fished out a card from the bottom of her purse. It was bent and worn from knocking around with her wallet and hand lotion and coupon container. She had to tilt it toward the light streaming through the crescent-shaped window above her brass headboard in order to read the phone number and punch the digits into her cell.
“Gordon Townsend,” a pleasant-sounding voice greeted her. Fortunately the number he’d given her was his direct line.
“Hi, Gordon, this is Serena Beaumont.”
“Serena!” he exclaimed, his delight obvious. “I’ve been hoping you would call me.”
“You have?” If the bank was that anxious to hand out money, maybe she would actually have a shot at getting a mortgage on the home or a business loan for the boardinghouse.
“Of course I have. I gave you my card a while ago,” he said. “So I had kind of given up hope of hearing from you.”
Gordon had given her his card when they’d run into each other at the grocery store. Since it had been his professional card, she thought he’d just been drumming up business for the bank. She hadn’t realized his interest could be personal.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured.
“It’s fine,” he said. “You’ve called now. That’s the important thing. I thought you might already be involved with someone.”
She nearly laughed. Her only relationship since her mom had died had been with the house and her boarders. But if she’d had time to date, she might have considered Gordon; he was her type. He was a hometown guy who had come back after college because he’d missed Northern Lakes. He wanted to settle down and raise a family in the safe, friendly small town where he had grown up. He also had a good job. He was well-known and respected.
No one would warn her to stay away from Gordon. He wouldn’t hurt her or abandon her. But he probably wouldn’t excite her either—not like Cody had. Even now—hours after lying in bed with him—her pulse pounded and her skin tingled. And she would never get the image out of her mind of his naked body: his sculpted muscles, his engorged…
“No!” she said—to stop herself from thinking about sleeping with Cody. That wouldn’t have been just a bad idea but a disastrous one.
“So, you’re not in a relationship?”
“No, no,” Serena stammered, “I’m too busy trying to get my business established.”
“Yes, I’ve heard you started a boardinghouse,” he said.
“Mom already had it going.” She’d had Mrs. Gulliver and Mr. Stehouwer living with her. When Serena had dropped out of nursing school, she’d come home to help her mom care for the octogenarians.
Unfortunately she hadn’t been able to help her mother, though, when she’d found her on the landing of the back stairwell. The heart attack had killed her instantly.
She blinked away the tears stinging her eyes and focused on the conversation. “I have more boarders now.” Thanks to Cody. “So I’m calling to make an appointment to discuss some financing with you.”
“Oh, oh,” Gordon said with apparent disappointment. “I’m sorry I misunderstood.”
“I’m sorry too,” she said—sorry that she’d been so oblivious when he’d given her his card. She’d been so focused on her grocery list and coupons that she hadn’t talked to him very long. They’d just exchanged a few quick pleasantries and he’d given her his card.
“So dating’s not out of the question?” Gordon asked hopefully.
He was her type—she reminded herself.
“No,” she said. “It’s not…”
But she made a bank appointment, not a date, for the following week. She told herself that it was just because she didn’t want to date anyone right now.
Not because she was interested in Cody.
7
“NEVER FIGURED YOU for the bubble bath kind,” Ethan Sommerly needled him, his lips curving into a wide grin within his bushy black beard.
How the hell did he stand all that hair on his face in this heat? But maybe it only felt hot to Cody because he kept thinking about Serena, in his bed, about kissing her…
“What?” Cody asked.
Superintendent Zimmer had just wrapped up another Hotshots meeting at the firehouse. All twenty members of the team had been present in the third-floor conference room. They milled around now, drinking coffee and snacking on cookies and brownies.
The brownies were probably the best thing about the meeting. They had no news about the arsonist and no leads. Fortunately the arsonist hadn’t set any more fires, though. So Braden had said that the next time they were called up to help out with the fires out west, they would go to relieve the crews currently working them.
Cody waited, but he didn’t feel that usual surge of excitement at the idea of traveling again, of exploring a new place and conquering another blaze. Maybe he’d hit his head harder than he’d thought.
Usually he enjoyed these meetings. He loved getting together with the entire team and laughing and joking. But while everyone else had migrated toward those snack tables at the back, he had moved to the windows with a view of the village of Northern Lakes. It was a cute little tourist town with quaint-looking shops and restaurants.
“Owen said you took a tumble in the tub,” Ethan said, gesturing at Cody’s head. “Guess those bubble baths can be dangerous.”
The bandage was gone, but he had another couple of days before the stitches would be removed.
“I was taking a shower,” he said, “not a bath.”
“Never figured you were so clumsy,” Trent Miles chimed in as he walked up behind them. He wasn’t as big and burly as Sommerly, but the guy was every bit as tough. The fires he fought during the off-season were even more dangerous
than the wildfires—because he fought them in the most violent area of Detroit. Cody had always thought he was fearless until he said, “You got me scared, Mallehan.”
Cody snorted. “How’s that?”
“Not sure I want to be running a saw with you,” Miles replied. “What if you slip again?”
He knew these guys wouldn’t believe that someone else had caused his fall. Unless he gave them a reason…
“I won’t be distracted on the line,” he assured his team members, assuming his usual arrogant attitude.
“You were distracted in the shower?” Ethan asked, arching a bushy brow.
Yes, with thoughts of his hot landlady. Or he might have noticed that the tub had been tampered with before he’d stepped into it.
Trent groaned. “I think that’s Mallehan subtle way of letting us know he hadn’t been alone.”
He had been but not for long. Serena had rushed to his rescue. But she would have done that for anyone. It was her nature to care for others. Over the past few days that he’d been sidelined with the concussion, he’d watched her take care of the other boarders.
She treated Mrs. Gulliver, with her pink-streaked hair, more like a grandmother than a boarder. She brought her tea and cookies to munch on while the old woman watched her soap operas. She flirted with dirty old Mr. Stehouwer more than she’d ever flirted with Cody. She treated Stanley like a kid brother. And over the past few days, she’d treated Cody like an invalid, making sure he had aspirin and rest.
Hell, despite her not wanting the mutt in her house, she took care of Annie, too. The overgrown puppy adored her, just like everyone else. She followed Serena from room to room. Cody had wanted to follow her, too.
It was good he’d had the meeting to attend—a reason to escape the house and his feelings for her. His desire.
He wanted her. That was all it was: attraction. Nothing else.
That was why he couldn’t get her out of his mind. Even now he thought he saw her on the street below. Was there another woman in town who had black hair that long and silky-looking?
She had just stepped out of the bank down the street. Her slender shoulders were slumped, and she lifted her hand to her face, as if brushing something from her cheek. Tears?
What had upset her?
Someone snapped fingers in his face, drawing his attention away from the window. He turned around expecting to see Trent and Ethan. But it was Braden who stood in front of him.
“You okay?” his boss asked.
He gazed around the room and realized everyone else had left. “Sure. Yeah, of course I am.”
“You seem out of it,” Zimmer said.
He’d been distracted. He glanced back to the window, but the black-haired woman was gone. Had it been Serena? Or was he only imagining her everywhere?
“I’m not sure you should have come back yet,” his boss said.
“The doctor cleared me,” he reminded Braden. He’d had to get a note to prove that he was physically ready for the demands of his job. Of course it hadn’t been all that demanding lately. Maybe that was why he’d been so edgy; he was just restless. It had nothing to do with Serena at all.
Braden nodded. “Yeah, you’ve got the medical clearance.” His brown eyes narrowed as he studied Cody’s face. His look was uncomfortably close to how Serena looked at him. But it was clear Braden was still trying to understand him. It was like Serena already did. “What about the mental clearance?”
“What do you mean?” But he was afraid that he knew. And it wasn’t just restlessness. He’d been restless before, but he’d never felt like this.
“You okay?” Zimmer asked again. “You seem really preoccupied.”
Damn Serena.
“Just antsy to get back to work,” he said. And away from the temptation that was Serena Beaumont.
“This season has been hard on you,” Braden acknowledged.
Cody shook his head. “It’s been easier than any other one. We’ve spent most of it here in Northern Lakes.” Waiting for the damn arsonist to strike again.
“That’s why it’s been hard,” Braden said. “You’ve been stuck in one place. I know that’s not easy on you.”
It wasn’t easy because it wasn’t familiar.
“I get it,” Cody said. “It’s our responsibility to protect Northern Lakes.”
“It’s mine,” Braden said. Maybe it was because he was the boss—maybe it was just his personality—but he always assumed responsibility for everything.
Cody had no doubt that Braden would stop the arsonist if it was the last thing he did.
“But we’re a team,” Cody reminded him. “You don’t have to do it alone.”
“I know that,” Braden said. With a pointed stare, he added, “I’m not the loner.”
Cody was; he’d made no secret of that. But that didn’t mean he didn’t care about the team.
“Have I done something you’re upset about?” he asked as his heart began to beat harder, like it had every time his social worker had showed up and he’d just known he was moving again. “The concussion wasn’t my fault.”
He wasn’t sure whose fault it was, though. Maybe it had just been an accident. But he had a niggling feeling that wasn’t the case.
Braden shook his head and sighed. “No, you didn’t do anything. You made your position clear when I hired you. You only wanted to do a couple of seasons as a Hotshot before becoming a smoke jumper.”
That had been his plan; it seemed like so long ago now. “True.”
“Mack McRooney recommended I hire you,” Braden said.
Two years ago Cody, who’d already been working as a firefighter with the US Forest Service, had trained to be a smoke jumper with a dozen other guys. McRooney had put them through rigorous physical training—which had weeded them down to just Cody and a couple of other guys. Cody had worked hard; he had gotten good at parachuting out of planes. But there had only been one position open at that time, and Mack had given it to a guy with Hotshot experience.
Cody nodded. “He told me about the position on your team.” The job had sent him back to Michigan from Washington. Michigan was where he’d grown up after being dropped at a fire station in Detroit.
“He called me the other day to check on you,” Braden said.
“How’d he know about my accident? And why would he care?” Cody wondered aloud. He’d liked the older guy, but they hadn’t kept in touch.
“He wants to know if you’re ready to make the switch,” Braden replied, “if you have enough practical experience to become a smoke jumper.”
Cody had wanted that job for so long that he expected another surge of excitement. But he felt only mild curiosity. “He has an open position?”
Braden nodded. Then his brow furrowed with confusion. “You must not be completely recovered yet.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I thought you’d jump at the chance to apply for that jumper position.”
“Ha-ha,” he said in response to his boss’s bad pun. “Of course I’ll apply.” He’d already stayed too long with the Huron Hotshots. He was in danger of getting attached not just to his team members, but to a certain black-haired beauty as well.
*
“THANKS FOR MEETING me here,” Serena said when her friends slid into the booth across from her.
Until they arrived, she’d felt out of place in the working-class bar. Not only had she been one of the only females, she’d also felt overdressed in the skirt and blouse she’d worn for her bank appointment. She was lucky she hadn’t tripped as she’d crossed the peanut-strewn wood floor in her heels.
Fiona and Tammy had easily maneuvered across the room in their heels. But then they were more used to dressing up than Serena was.
“We’re thrilled you finally got out of that house,” Tammy said.
Serena blinked, fighting off the tears that threatened. These weren’t tears of sadness like when she thought of her mother. These were tears of frustration.
&n
bsp; “What’s wrong?” Fiona asked, reaching across the table for Serena’s hands. The diamond on the redhead’s finger caught and refracted the light that swung over the booth.
“What did Cody do?” Tammy asked, her brown eyes narrowing with immediate suspicion.
“Is he suing you?” Fiona asked.
Serena shook her head. “Cody didn’t do anything.” Which could be part of the reason for her frustration. After that afternoon when they’d realized what a bad idea sleeping together would be, he hadn’t hit on her again. The other part of her frustration she didn’t want to think, let alone talk, about…
“If it’s not Cody, then what’s wrong?” Fiona persisted.
Serena blinked again and forced a bright smile. “Why does something have to be wrong for me to call my friends for drinks?”
“Oh, something’s definitely up,” Tammy said. She raised her hand and waved over a waitress. “And we’ll get it out of you once we get you liquored up.”
Serena laughed, a real laugh that eased the tight pressure in her chest. This was why she’d called her friends—to get her mind off her troubles and off Cody. If she’d gone home and run into him again…
She wasn’t sure what she might have done. She might have dragged him to her bed. If she let Tammy liquor her up, she still might.
“You are not getting me drunk,” she insisted with another laugh. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been out with them, though, and it felt good. So she didn’t protest when Tammy ordered a round of shots.
She picked up and downed her Fireball, then sputtered, “I hope you know one of you is driving me home.”
“Oh, we’ll get you a ride,” Tammy promised. She drank her own shot. Then she called for another round. She obviously didn’t intend to be the designated driver. Of course she lived in town and could walk home from the Filling Station.
Fiona slapped her empty shot glass back on the table. “Good thing Wyatt’s meeting me here when he’s done at the firehouse,” she said, “because I’m not sure I’ll be able to walk home if we keep drinking like this.”
“Is he bringing any hunky Hotshot friends with him?” Tammy asked with a salacious smile.
