Suzanne hesitated, not wanting to interrupt the creation of her next masterpiece, but finally Merry looked up and beckoned her over.
She sat down with a happy sigh. Sipping a hot beverage—any beverage, really—while chatting with a friend was one of her favorite pastimes.
“How’s everything in the honeymoon business?” Merry asked after they got the preliminaries out of the way.
“To be honest—and off the record, of course—I think they’re all under the influence.”
“All your clients are drunk? Hmm, sounds like they might have somethin’ in common with journalists.” Merry pulled a comical face.
“Yes, but they’re drunk on love. That’s even more dangerous than whiskey or whatever journalists drink.”
“We’re not too picky.”
“Well, apparently my clients aren’t either. They marry just about anyone they fall in love with. What kind of way is that to make a decision?”
Merry’s eyebrows drew together, creasing the smooth brown skin of her forehead. “Isn’t that the usual way? Or so I hear. Haven’t had to make that call yet.”
“Just because it’s the usual way doesn’t mean it’s the best way. Just look at the divorce rates in this country. Do you know how many times I’ve sat with a newlywed couple and thought, eh, fifty-fifty chance you’ll make it? There are exceptions, of course. Like Sean and Evie. They’re soul mates. But that doesn’t happen very often. Mostly, people choose their mates for the wrong reasons.”
Merry broke off a piece of her blueberry scone. “You have this all worked out, don’t you? Go on, then, hit me, I’m all about the facts. You have a solution for this problem?”
Suzanne took off the lid of her latte and blew on the foam. “I do. In my humble opinion, no one should leave their future up to emotion. Emotions change. The only reliable way to secure your future is to make a real commitment.” When Merry started to protest, she held up a finger. “But there’s a catch. The commitment has to be with someone who doesn’t make choices based on emotion. Both parties have to be equally logical and practical.”
Merry looked at her as if she were crazy. “Girl, you are just depressing the hell out of me now. You’re saying only two coldhearted people can ever make a marriage work?”
“No. Of course not. You don’t have to be coldhearted to be practical. Take me and Logan. We know why we’re getting married. We want the same kind of life. And we’re willing to commit to each other to achieve that life.”
“Are my ears bleeding yet? Because they sure feel like they are.”
Suzanne frowned at her friend. “I was sure you’d agree with me. You always talk about research and facts and all that.”
“Fact is, I’d rather be alone than have the kind of marriage you describe.”
“Hey.” Feeling rather wounded, Suzanne took shelter in her latte. “It’s the only way to guarantee that it’ll work. If you just go by emotions and love, anything could happen.”
“No one can guarantee anything. Not when it comes to romance.”
Suzanne propped her elbows on the table and rested her chin in her hands. “Well, I can try, can’t I? What if all it takes is careful planning and execution of the plan?”
“And what if you’re dreaming, Suz?”
Suzanne let out a long sigh. “Darn you and your facts. You ruin everything.”
Merry laughed. “Not the first time I’ve heard that. Okay, changing the subject. Did you see this week’s Gazette?”
“I saw last week’s, has anything much changed?”
“Ooh, burn. Are you out for revenge now?”
“I’m just teasing. What big breaking news do we have in town this week?”
“Well, aside from the killer photo spread of our new hotshot crew—”
Suzanne snatched the paper toward her. Josh was right there in full color, doing pushups with his muscles bulging out of his workout shirt.
“Oooh, that got you going,” Merry teased.
Yeah, well…why wouldn’t it? He was insanely attractive. And she remembered exactly how good he felt pressed against her body.
“But that’s actually not what I meant to point out. Did you know that we have an honest-to-goodness fairy-tale castle in this town?”
Suzanne’s heart nearly stopped.
As far as she knew, there was only one castle-like house in Jupiter Point. She knew every nook and cranny of it.
Was Merry talking about—
She scrabbled through the pages of the newspaper. “Where? Where’d you see it?”
“Take it easy, hon. It’s in the real estate section. I just happened to see this grainy little photo, but then I looked it up on Zillow. It looks like an enchanted castle. It even has a name. Casa di Stella. Check it out.”
She turned her laptop so Suzanne could see. But Suzanne didn’t have to look at it to know what she would see. A Victorian whimsy of a house covered with climbing ivy, with two turrets and a drawbridge out front. It used to have a sort of moat, though now it was more of a swampy home for frogs.
“Why is it in the paper? Is there a story on it?”
“No, no. No story. But it just went on the market. It’s being listed at half a million dollars, which isn’t too bad if you consider that it’s practically a castle. Are you okay?”
Suzanne nodded dumbly. It was for sale. Old Mrs. Shrew must have finally decided she couldn’t maintain it anymore. Not that she ever could, with all those pets of hers. But why the hell hadn’t anyone told Suzanne? Jupiter Point Realty knew that if it ever went on the market, Suzanne wanted to be notified.
“Let’s go check it out,” Merry was saying. “I bet there’s a story there. Don’t you think?”
“Oh yes. There’s definitely a story.”
“You know something about this place, don’t you?”
“You could say that.”
“Well, spill it, girl! You can’t torture a reporter like that.”
Suzanne couldn’t drag her gaze away from the photo in the online real estate listing. “Well, I don’t know all of the story. But I did live there from the age of eight to fifteen.”
“Get the hell out!”
“It’s true. My parents bought that house when we moved to Jupiter Point. My mother fell in love with it at first sight.”
There was much more to the story, but she didn’t feel like dredging all that up now.
Merry turned the computer so they could both see the listing. She read aloud. “‘Historic Jupiter Point home is every childhood fantasy come true.’” She clapped her hands in glee. “Is that true? Was it your childhood fantasy come true? Did flocks of little tweety-birds fly through the window to help you clean the kitchen?”
“That’s not nice.” Suzanne had loved that house with every inch of her child’s heart. It had crushed her when they’d lost it.
“Sorry. I’m just…hey, I grew up in Brooklyn. I’m a little out of my league here. Look, it says ‘Vintage interior, period details.’ Well, you know what that means. Sketchy plumbing. Now we have something in common.”
The rusty color of the water that flowed from the kitchen sink had never bothered Suzanne. And she’d learned to use a toilet plunger early on. To her, it had been part of the fantastic adventure of living in a real castle. “Who needs plumbing when you have a drawbridge?”
“True that.” Merry continued reading from the ad. “First time on the market in twelve years. Call for showing.”
“Okay.” Suzanne put the lid on her to-go cup and rose to her feet. This couldn’t be a coincidence. It must be destiny—written in the stars. She was engaged and her beloved childhood home was back on the market. Everything was coming together in perfect harmony. That was what happened when you planned carefully. “I’m on it.”
“You’re going to go see it?”
“I don’t need to see it. I’m going to buy it.”
Ignoring Merry’s stunned expression, Suzanne tossed her latte in the trash bin on her way out the door. The need to act now, to
stake her claim before anyone else fell in love with that photo in the paper, drove her forward. She picked up the pace and practically jogged the ten blocks to Jupiter Point Realty.
With Merry on her heels.
“How are you going to buy it, girl? Are you a secret millionaire?”
Merry, who was about eight inches shorter than Suzanne, had to jog to keep up with her. Suzanne slowed her pace, even though the thought of losing the castle to someone else made her want to scream.
“Of course not. But I’ve been saving up for a down payment since I was sixteen and scooping ice cream at the Milky Way.”
They reached the storefront of the real estate office, which had listings posted on the glass for passersby to peruse. Casa di Stella was posted front and center in a featured position. Suzanne resisted the urge to pull out a black sharpie and scribble “sold” on the glass.
“It’s still posted, that means it’s still available,” Merry pointed out. She adjusted her laptop under her arm. It looked as if she’d stuffed it haphazardly into its case when she’d bolted after Suzanne. “Don’t panic. Take a moment and tell me why you’ve been saving up for this eyesore all these years.”
Suzanne turned on her. “Take it back. You can’t call it an eyesore.”
Merry nearly dropped her laptop. “Are you kidding me?”
“No. I’m not. I love every inch of that place.” Tears sprang to her eyes, shocking even her. “Every dilapidated inch. We had to sell it when my dad went bankrupt in the big market crash. I swore I’d get it back someday.” Merry touched her arm with a remorseful look.
“Sorry, Suz. I didn’t know it meant so much to you. I think it’s crazy fantastic and if you buy it, I promise I’ll come paint walls or drawbridges or whatever you have to do to fix up a castle.”
Suzanne threw her arms around her friend. “Really? You’d really do that?”
“Sure. Of course I would.” Merry seemed to be soothing her the way she would a volatile two-year-old. “It must have been so sad to leave it.”
She had no idea. It wasn’t just the house—everything had fallen apart after the crash. Her parents had fled the country when it turned out her father had done some frantic and illicit things to cover his ass. They still couldn’t come back without risking prosecution.
Suzanne shook off the memory. “It’s okay. I always knew I’d get a chance to buy it back. I’ve been planning for this ever since.” Critically, she surveyed her outfit. Sleeveless royal-blue top, pinstriped pencil skirt, kitten heels. Professional but not uptight. Luckily, she even had her prized Kate Spade clutch with her. “How do I look?”
Merry gave her an “a-okay” sign. “Lookin’ good, girl. I’d sell you a castle if I owned one.”
“Good isn’t quite good enough. I need to look—inevitable.” She pulled out a comb and ran it through her hair, then tied it in a low ponytail. Peering at the plate glass, she saw that she looked every inch the young professional about to make an offer for the house of her dreams. She drew in a deep breath and glanced at Merry, who looked highly amused by her storefront toilette.
“Good luck, baby doll. I need to get to work, but if you line up a showing, you better call me. I want to know how much painting’s in my future. Come here. Hug for good luck.”
They hugged one more time, then Merry hurried down the street toward the Mercury News-Gazette building. Suzanne stepped closer to the listing taped on the glass. Details were always important, and maybe there was something in the description that would help the Realtor look more favorably on her. Lord knew her financials weren’t her strong point. She could afford the down payment, but barely. But her history with the house, her familiarity with its drawbacks, her emotional attachment to it—maybe that would all count for something.
As she scanned the description, she stumbled across a line that made her freeze in her tracks.
“Seller prefers families with children. Contact only if you meet seller’s criteria.”
5
With an exhausted groan, Josh squatted onto a mossy log and cracked open an MRE. The crew ate the flavorless meals in silence. They’d spent the morning cutting a chain—hacking vegetation to “mineral” so the fire would have trouble reaching the fuel. It was back-straining work and Josh could feel it in every inch of his body.
He’d heard it said that hotshots were the most physically fit of all types of firefighters. Generally speaking, it was probably true. But more importantly, backcountry firefighting required a certain kind of mental toughness because of the sheer length of time it took to battle a wildfire. You could be doing the same back-grinding work for sixteen hours at a time, then the same thing again the next day. And the next.
It took stamina. Or lunacy. Luckily, Josh had plenty of both.
On the plus side, the scenery was incredible. How often did a guy get to take a break while admiring a waterfall tinkling down a slope of slender white birches?
Sean Marcus, who was sitting next to him on the log, finished his MRE and tucked the empty wrapper into his pack. “Let’s mop up those last few hot spots then go help the Scorpions.”
“What do you think, boss? Home tomorrow?”
“It’s looking good.”
“Excellent. I have a hot date with a hot tub.” Josh licked out the last bit of mush from the foil package.
“Yeah? Who’s the lucky lady this time?”
“No lady. Just a hot tub. They have a good one at the gym in town.” Wildfire fighting was dirty, grimy, sweaty work. When Josh got back to the base, he always spent half a day just getting clean. In Colorado, he’d even been known to book himself a spa day at the end of the season. The other guys teased him about it, but he didn’t care. He liked being clean. So sue him.
“After you’re all nice and clean and tidy, want to come to an engagement party?”
Josh’s gut went tight as a drum. “Suzanne and what’s-his-name?”
“What? No. It’s for someone else. You might know them. Sean and Evie.”
The relief that flooded him made no sense. Suzanne was already engaged. What difference would a party make? Then the import of Sean’s words sank in. “Wait. You two are engaged?”
“Yup. We’re not making a big deal out of it though. Evie doesn’t want to step on her cousin’s big moment.”
There went that annoying stomach punch again. Of course Suzanne was still getting married to Mr. Free Pass. That was what she wanted, and she seemed like the kind of girl who got what she wanted.
“Hey, man, congratulations.” He punched Sean on the shoulder, then, since that seemed like an underwhelming level of excitement for his best friend’s news, he punched him harder.
“Ow.”
“Honest to God, I never thought I’d see this day. The ultimate lone wolf brought down by the town sweetheart.”
“Evie’s a lot more than that and you know it.” Sean narrowed dark green eyes at him. On one topic, the man refused to joke around. Josh could respect that.
“Of course I know it. She’s gorgeous, she’s kind, she doesn’t lob insults at a guy or act like he’s a juvenile delinquent just because he likes to joke around.” He unfurled himself from the log, stood up and rolled his shoulders.
Sean followed suit. “Talking about anyone in particular?”
Josh picked up his pack and fastened it on his body. It held everything he needed out here. Extra gas for the chainsaw, rain gear, an extra warm layer, some flagging, and of course the all-important emergency fire shelter. That thing had already saved his life once.
Why did he keep thinking about the Big Canyon burnover? And having nightmares about it? He was starting to think that something had happened to him during it—something important. It had changed him. He just hadn’t figure out how yet.
“Eh, doesn’t matter.” Even though he was answering Sean’s question, he also addressed that remark to himself and his memories of the burnover. It didn’t matter. He was alive. Free to live his life the way he wanted. Nothing had ch
anged.
“Actually, I have a question for you, Romeo. If you’re officially engaged you should have no trouble answering.”
“Shoot.” Sean donned his pack as well and picked up his Pulaski, the favorite tool of the hotshots. He waved to the rest of the crew that lunch was over.
“What would you think of the concept of a free pass?”
“No idea what you mean.” Sean unscrewed the top of his canteen and glugged down a long swallow of water. Dehydration was a real hazard for hotshots and something Sean paid close attention to. “Make sure to hydrate!” he called to the crew.
“This isn’t Zumba class,” Josh grumbled, even though he pulled out his own canteen. “A free pass apparently is when an engaged couple decides they can screw whoever they want until they actually take the vow.”
Josh wished he had a camera to commemorate the expression on Sean’s rugged face. “What the fuck?”
“So you wouldn’t be in favor of something like that?’
Sean glared him with something like menace. “Whose dumbass idea is that?”
Tim Peavy, a rookie and Jupiter Point local, was listening curiously from several yards away. “I have an opinion. Anyone want my opinion?”
It occurred to Josh that maybe Suzanne didn’t want everyone knowing about the situation. “It’s a hypothetical. Forget I asked.”
The crew set off for the half-mile hike to the location of the Fighting Scorpions, the crew that both he and Sean had been part of during the burnover. Josh didn’t need any more information about the free pass idea. Sean was the best example of an “in love and engaged” man that he knew. If Sean had reacted like that to the concept, his question was answered.
Logan was a dick who had no business being engaged to Suzanne.
Suzanne, who would most likely be in attendance at Sean and Evie’s engagement party, since she was Evie’s cousin.
“Hey, Magneto,” he called to Sean, who was striding a few yards ahead. “Count me in on the party. It’s like a bachelor party, right? Cigars and strippers?”
“Don’t you dare.”
“I can wear my thong. The girls love it.”
Burn So Bright Page 4
