Set the Night on Fire

by Jennifer Bernard

  Sean threw himself into the task of getting the crew geared up. Their crew buggies arrived—two green box-like trucks fitted with storage cupboards and space for hotshots to pile in and drive wherever they needed to. The freshly painted black lettering “Jupiter Point Hotshots” gave him a special thrill. Once the fire season started, they’d be practically living in those things.

  In the meantime, the barracks would be the home for all non-local members of the crew. As soon as the cots arrived he and Josh spent half a day setting them up. He ordered gear from the nearest fire cache, and almost every day, a truck arrived with a delivery. Chainsaws, spare chains, gloves, helmets, gear duffels, line bags, canteens, boot grease, bug dope, sleeping bags, tent, everything that the hotshot crew would bring with them to a fire.

  All the hard work kept Sean from thinking too much about Evie, and about all the ghosts of his past that lived here in Jupiter Point. He focused only on the task at hand. But that ended when a police car drove onto the base a couple of weeks after the city council meeting.

  Sean put down the box of gloves he was unloading and watched, hands on hips, as a six-foot-seven-inch-tall black man unfurled himself from the car. Sean remembered him all too well. He was the arresting officer Sean had slugged that fateful night. Looking at the man now, it was hard to believe he’d had the balls to lash out at someone so intimidating.

  He strode toward him, hand outstretched. “Officer Brady Becker.”

  “Chief Becker now. Been police chief for five years.”

  “Congratulations.” They shook hands and eyed each other with mutual wariness. Josh strolled over from the supply cache to join them.

  “Josh Marshall, Chief Becker.” Sean watched as they shook hands. He mentally skimmed through all his recent actions. Had he broken any laws? He didn’t think so.

  “You’re really whipping this place into shape.” Becker cast a dubious glance at the boxes of supplies littering the pavement.

  “We’re getting there. Bit by bit. What can I help you with, Chief?”

  “Can I talk to you in private?”

  “Is it necessary? Josh is my assistant and needs to be in the loop on everything.”

  “Up to you.” Becker clasped his hands behind his back, and readied himself to speak.

  But before the chief could say anything, Sean decided to get something off his chest. He heaved in some air, then went for it in a rush. “I need to apologize for losing my temper that night. I shouldn’t have gone after you guys the way I did. It was wrong.”

  Becker lifted his eyebrows. “Accepted. I gotta say I was surprised to see you back in Jupiter Point, considering how things went down.”

  The chief’s tone of voice made Sean feel like a troublesome teenager again instead of a fully-grown adult, and he didn’t like it one bit. “All that’s in the past. I’m here to do a job, that’s it.”

  “You had a job, didn’t you? You left the Fighting Scorpions to come here.”

  “This is a better job.”

  Becker continued. “I remember you in that holding cell, raging at the entire world. You swore you’d never come back to this piece of shit town. That’s a direct quote.”

  Sean winced at the reminder. That night, all his grief and anger had exploded. He barely remembered half the shit he’d said. It was probably a really good thing he’d been behind bars. “I was seventeen, and I was a little fucked up at that point.”

  Becker raised his eyebrow again in that silent, maddening way.

  “Okay, a lot fucked up. But that was then, this is now. Why are you here, Chief?”

  He heard the edge in his own voice, and saw Josh give him a ‘cool it’ gesture. Good idea—the last thing he needed was a repeat performance of that night.

  “Can I ask what brought you back, besides the job?” Even though his tone was pleasant enough, the look on his face said otherwise. Sean felt a familiar anger build inside. Back in high school, he’d gotten that look a lot—that suspicious, “you’re up to no good” look. It drove him nuts.

  But he’d come a long way since then. He was much better at channeling his emotions in a good direction. “I’m not sure you have the right to ask that,” he said evenly.

  Becker considered him for a long moment. They stood in a sort of standoff, High Noon style.

  Josh stepped into the tense silence. “I have to interrupt for a second. Sean is here because he’s the best possible man for this job. I can vouch for that. You guys in Jupiter Point are lucky to have him.”

  Sean reminded himself to buy Josh a beer or two. It felt damn good to have someone stand up for him. Really damn good. But he knew some of the townspeople had to be worried about him being back. Was the chief here on their behalf?

  Becker scrutinized them both. When he spoke again, his tone had shifted.

  “Look, Marcus. I cut you a few breaks back then. You used to do some wild, reckless dumbass shit. How many times did you sneak into Barstow’s?”

  “Barstow’s?” Josh perked up. “Is that the place with the two-dollar drafts on weeknights?”

  Becker ignored him. “You had more energy than you could handle. But you got a tough hand dealt to you, I knew that. I always saw you as someone who could turn his life around. Looks like you did, and I’m glad to see it. Mind if I ask where you went after you took off?”

  Sean let out the breath he’d been holding. Since Becker was no longer addressing him like a rebellious teen, he didn’t mind answering a few questions. “Would that put your mind at ease?”

  “It might,” Becker said. “I had a responsibility, and it always bothered me that you just disappeared after the Dean came and got you.” He actually offered up a smile, a wry twist of his lips.

  “Chief…” Something struck Sean in that moment. “Were you actually worried about me?”

  “Of course I was. I knew you were hurting.”

  And that, more than anything else Becker could have said, made Sean relax and answer the question. “I went camping after I left. I bought myself a tent and went into the Sierra Nevadas and hiked until my boots fell apart. Pretty nefarious, huh?”

  Becker tilted his head, listening closely, so Sean went on. “When I got my head together, I went to Colorado, where my aunt lived, and got a degree in fire science. I didn’t intend to come back here, but…” He shrugged. “I had to. And that’s all I’m going to say.”

  “All right, then. Fair enough.” Becker tucked his thumbs in his belt loops. “There’s one more thing you can do for me, Marcus. I’m following up on a threat you made to Brad White before you left town.”

  “Are you kidding me? That was thirteen years ago.”

  “And yet he was in my office the other day reminding me of it.”

  Goddamn—the nerve of that guy. He must be completely sure that Sean would never say why he’d issued that threat. Actually, Sean would call it more of a warning than a threat. But if he kept up this bullshit, Sean might go for a threat after all.

  As if he knew the direction of Sean’s thoughts, Becker said in a challenging tone, “Do you promise to stay away from Brad White?”

  Sean’s jaw clenched so tightly it hurt. “I have so far.”

  “And Evie McGraw?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “There were three kids there that night. You, Brad and Evie. I don’t know what happened, and I guess I don’t need to. But my job is to keep the peace. So I’m hoping you’ll keep a safe distance.”

  Even though Evie was keeping her distance just fine all on her own, Becker’s request rankled. Sean had asked Evie to dinner, and he still hoped she’d come around. No way was he going to promise to stay away from Evie.

  “You’re out of line, Chief.”

  He threw up his hands. “You’re right, you’re right. Look. If you want to make a good impression around here, don’t mess with Evie. She’s had it rough herself, with her mother’s diagnosis.”

  Diagnosis? Molly McGraw, the sweet, kind woman who’d invited him to live with
them, had been diagnosed with something? Evie hadn’t mentioned anything about that. He wanted to ask for more details, but Becker was still talking.

  “There’s something about Evie that makes people want to protect her. Half of my force is in love with her. One of my guys even put it into a poem. So my advice is, keep your distance.”

  Josh pounced on that little detail like a cat on a mouse. “A policeman poet? Now I’ve heard it all.”

  Becker swung a glare his direction. “It’s a beautiful piece of work. Mentions her luminous eyes and skin like pearls. Damn literary.”

  “Okay then.” Josh was turning red from trying to restrain his mirth.

  “Word to the wise, that’s all.” Becker shook both of their hands, then strode back to his unit. “Let’s keep things cool around here. Good luck with your boxes.”

  As he drove away, Sean scrubbed a hand through his hair.

  “That’s got to be a first.” Josh finally let his laughter burst out. “A warning and a poem, all in the same conversation. I like this town.”

  All of a sudden, Sean felt the urge to be alone, to get away from this place, from Josh’s laughter. “I’m out. Back in a few.”

  “Stay away from Evie,” Josh called after him as he strode toward the truck.

  * * *

  Sean drove to the place where the ghosts lived.

  Jesse Marcus had dragged his family to Jupiter Point because of an airstrip he’d seen for sale in a flight magazine. He’d purchased two small, fixed-wing planes and set up Marcus Flight Tours. Sean always suspected he intended to smuggle drugs through the flightseeing service, but Jesse never copped to it.

  After the crash, no one had stepped forward to purchase the business, and it had been liquidated. The lawyers had sold the planes, but Sean had kept the property. He’d never missed a tax payment, even though they were pretty hefty. He’d turned down a few purchase offers. He wasn’t sure why it was important to him, since he’d never intended to return. He had no clue what to do with an old airstrip.

  But it was a little piece of Jupiter Point, and it was all he had left of his family. He hadn’t wanted to let it go.

  The airstrip was located outside of town, at the end of a long, barely maintained gravel road. It was only half a mile from the ocean, and beach grass grew wild to the edge of the runway. Sean parked next to the entrance, which was chained off. “No Trespassing” signs were posted every twenty feet or so—the estate lawyers’ idea. A light wind rustled the knee-high grass and bright California poppies grew wild alongside the tarmac.

  The property didn’t have much to offer—one ramshackle hangar, a small office building that doubled as a waiting room. But the view was pretty amazing. The blue Pacific shimmered off to the west, and the stunning bulk of Jupiter Point rose to the east. The scent of salt air and sweet grass, and the faintest ghost of airplane fuel, brought back a rush of memories.

  Ugly memories.

  The time he’d been so angry at Jesse that he’d jumped out of the cockpit while the plane was still moving.

  The time Jesse had locked him in the hangar until he’d finished the maintenance chores he’d been assigned.

  He could practically hear the voices from all those battles floating in the air.

  “This is the stupidest thing you’ve ever gotten us into, Jesse! Even stupider than that peony farm!”

  “Your adolescent rebellion is getting old, man. It doesn’t matter what I pick, you’ll hate it. It’s an adventure, that’s what life is for.”

  “How is some Podunk nowhere town an adventure? Smoke some more weed, why don’t you?”

  “You should try it. A little more mellow would do you good.”

  “I should call the cops on you. You’re offering a controlled substance to a minor.”

  “Department of Empty Threats, you have a caller.”

  “I’m going to file for emancipation as soon as I can.”

  “I don’t know why you haven’t already. You afraid?”

  “Yes! Afraid you’ll do something really stupid and land Mom in jail!”

  Sean shook his head violently to chase away those voices. All those fights with his father and nothing had ever been resolved. And it never would be. One freak accident and it was over. No more fighting. No more words at all.

  For months after the crash, the words Sean wanted to say ran through his mind on a nonstop loop. The stuff in his head had more reality than anything around him. He was barely aware of the McGraws. He zoned out during school. He hardly spoke to Hunter, even though they shared the upper floor of the house.

  It wasn’t until he’d spotted Evie’s panicked face squished under Brad White that he’d snapped out of his stupor. Then during that night in jail, he realized it was time to stop thinking and act. Pick a path and take some sort of step forward. Ever since then, he’d kept moving. He’d been driven to succeed, to prove himself. To triumph over every impossible situation.

  So why had he come back to Jupiter Point? Good question, Chief Becker. Why the fuck would he come back to the place where people saw him as nothing but trouble? The place where he was known as that hippie Jesse Marcus’s no-good son?

  Maybe he wanted to prove he was more than that. Maybe he wanted to prove everyone wrong.

  9

  As he drove back to the base, he got a text from Josh. “TROUBLE. Going for a run. Make wise choices.”

  Ah, hell. Was he ever going to get a moment’s peace in this town?

  An unfamiliar white car was parked in the visitor lot. A cute little Jetta—girl car. How much trouble could that mean?

  He strode into the reception area, braced for the worst.

  Evie spun around at the sound of his footsteps, causing him to stop in his tracks. Hot damn. She looked incredible and…different. Her hair was loose over her bare shoulders. She wore a sleeveless dress the color of pink roses.

  The richness of the pink suited her. It put color in her cheeks and brought out her sexiness. Those long, tan legs…he gave a silent wolf whistle as his cock tightened. He hoped her effect on him wasn’t too obvious.

  “Welcome to the Jupiter Point Hotshots,” he said easily, shoving his hands in his pockets. Maybe that would help mask his reaction. “What can I help you with?”

  She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and stared at him. He had no clue how to interpret her expression. She looked as if she was about to jump off a cliff or something.

  A sudden thought struck him. “Is your mother okay? Chief Becker mentioned that she was sick. Hunter never told me, or I would have said something. She was always very sweet to me and—”

  He broke off, because she was now walking toward him with an air of firm determination. “Evie?”

  “Yes?”

  “What are you—”

  And then she was pressed against him. She stood on tiptoe and brushed her mouth against his. For a moment he stood frozen to the floor while the sweet sensation of her soft lips sent shockwaves through him.

  Evie McGraw was kissing him.

  This was real. And spectacular. And it might never happen again. Don’t blow it. He restrained his natural reaction, which was to haul her against him and ravage her mouth. He stood immobile, letting her take the lead. One wrong move might make her come to her senses.

  She kissed him with gentle curiosity, as if she was testing something. Experimenting. Sliding her tongue across his upper lip, into his mouth. Nibbling. It felt so fresh, so new and fascinating, like the beginning of a story he hadn’t heard before. Her scent surrounded him, not just the sweet rose petal fragrance of shampoo, but the deeper, wilder scent of her.

  Was that the real Evie hiding behind the cool, calm exterior?

  Unable to keep his arms still any longer, he brought them around her back and stroked the sleek length of her spine. Her breath hitched. That soft sound sent blood pounding into his cock. He moved his hips backward because he didn’t want her to feel how hard she made him. Something told him it might freak her ou
t.

  “Sean,” she whispered against his lips. “Will you do something for me?”

  “Yes,” he said promptly, not caring what it was.

  “Will you kiss me for real?”

  His hands spanned her lower back. The urge to yank her against him was strong, so strong, but he fought it. “We are kissing, thanks to you.”

  “I know we are. Believe me. But I want you to kiss me. The full-on, full-throttle, Full Monty version. Like a movie kiss.”

  “A movie kiss. You got it.” He pulled her snug against him, allowing her to feel his hard-on. Hey, she had mentioned “Full Monty.” Her eyes widened in awareness. He plunged his hands into her rich fall of hair, enjoying the silky slide against his fingers. Slowly, firmly, he tilted her head back. He hovered his mouth over hers, enjoying the quickening of her breath, taking in every close-up detail of her silvery-green eyes, her long lashes, the little scar near her cheekbone.

  Finally, when he couldn’t wait anymore, he swept his tongue across the seam of her lips. She opened for him eagerly. With long, deep strokes, he explored the succulent wetness of her mouth. Lust churned inside him. He imagined her full lips around his cock, the innocent way she’d take him deep into her throat. He pictured her spread open before him, flushed with pleasure as he drove his cock balls-deep.

  Oh fuck.

  He muttered words against her swollen lips, hot things off the top of his head—I want to throw you down…I want to lick your nipples…I want to take you deep—he barely knew what he was saying. She pressed against him, her nipples pebble-hard, the sensation sending new jolts of lust through him.

  When she pulled away, it was such a shock he actually got disoriented. He yanked his hands away from her and interlaced them behind his head. She was too tempting. He wanted to touch her too badly. “You okay?”

  She stared at him, looking just as disoriented as he was. One hand came up to touch her lips. Color came and went under her creamy skin. He couldn’t read her expression—aroused, yes, that much he could figure out. But what else? Upset? Excited? Angry?

  “Well,” she finally said in a breathless voice. “I guess that answers that.”