In The Heat 0f The Night (The O'Roarkes Duet Book 2)

by Katherine Garbera

  BUT SHE DIDN’T, really. And she wondered why she felt okay telling him his life would be fine when hers was far from it. In fact, it was a bit of a disaster. She shouldn’t be giving advice to anyone, at any time.

  He was quiet next to her in the dark. Maybe if she’d met him at a different time in her life, she would have been able to fix him the way she planned to re-do the Clapham place. His words, his doubts, revealed that despite outward appearances, fear was still a big player in his life, as she suspected it was in hers. And she wondered if there would ever come a time in either of their lives when that fear would disappear.

  “I hope so. Each day it gets a little easier,” he said. He stopped abruptly and drew her to a stop as well.

  “Yes?”

  “I want you to know that I wouldn’t suit up and go out on the truck if I thought I’d put any of my crew in danger,” he said.

  She knew that. It was there in the way he’d spoken of his concern. He was used to protecting everyone else. Who protected him? It was the same question she’d asked for years about her dad.

  She still didn’t have an answer.

  “I know,” she said, tipping his head down to hers again so that their eyes could meet. There were stormy skies in his blue eyes, and she knew that there would be for a while.

  “Did we decide against dating?” he asked, putting his arms around her and drawing her closer to him.

  “Well, considering this is our second date . . . but I have to be honest with you. If I get the chance to make it big, I’m not going to let it pass me by again.”

  “You think you can do it this time?” he asked, letting her go.

  It was ridiculous to think that she was chilly on this hot night, but when he stepped away, she shivered. She had said she didn’t want to get involved with anyone, that she was desperate to get out of the small town that had held her close for too long, but now, she felt a twinge of doubt.

  “I’m thirty, Rory,” she said, ignoring the tingle in her gut. “How many more opportunities am I going to get?”

  “I’m thirty-three,” he said. “And I’m still trying to find my place. I hope it’s easier for you.”

  She didn’t care if it was easy. She just wanted to start living the life she’d had in her head and in her heart for too long. She didn’t want to let those dreams simply die away. She suspected it was the same for him.

  “I suspect if it was easy, I would have done it a long time ago,” she said.

  They stood just off Main Street where the traffic was light but the sound of the cicadas was deafening. She glanced into the diner and noticed her sister watching her from behind the counter. Her big sister who worried that Meg was never going to let go of her past and move on.

  But then, Anne was running from her own demons as well. “Why did you pick Twin Palms?”

  “Honestly?”

  “Of course,” she said.

  “Its proximity to property I already own as well as the Clapham place. But even better, there’s not a single guy in the firehouse who’s ever worked with an O’Roarke. It’s a fresh start all around.”

  “If I can’t talk you into one of the other places, what about being a silent investor in the Clapham place? Let me make it over and use it for my audition and then I’ll sell out my half to you.”

  “You think that would work?” he asked.

  “I don’t like the idea, but a bidding war is just going to drive the price up. That’s not winning.”

  “Let me think about it,” he said. “Right now, though, I think it’s past time we called it a night.”

  He was right. It didn’t mean that she liked it, but she knew he had a point. “Goodnight, then.”

  “I’ll walk you to your car,” he said.

  “I’m safe enough. I can see my car from here.”

  “Fine. Far be it for me to argue with a woman who’s determined to prove her independence.”

  “Argued with women a lot?” she asked with a half-smile.

  “My sister. And she’d be the first to insist on getting to her car on her own,” he said. “I’m just going to stand here and watch until I know you’re safe.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest, wearing that same stubborn look she’d seen on her dad’s face more than once. She understood. It was his instinct to protect people—all people. Experience had taught her that what it usually meant was that they ignored the people already in their lives. Then again, she wasn’t in his life, was she? Hell, she’d already told him she was leaving, something she hadn’t had the nerve to tell anyone else.

  “Um . . . please don’t mention to anyone that I’m planning to leave,” she said.

  “Tonight? I think it’s fairly obvious,” he said.

  “I mean leave Twin Palms. I haven’t said anything to my family or friends. I don’t want them to . . . just please don’t.”

  “I won’t,” he said.

  But he would. She knew it. After tonight, they’d be nothing but rival bidders for a piece of property. That was it. She wouldn’t seek him out again nor would he, her. She walked slowly to her car and got behind the wheel.

  She told herself she wasn’t sad to be saying goodbye. He was nothing to her. But her heart felt heavy as she watched in the rearview mirror until she couldn’t see his form under the lamplight.

  She was doing the right thing.

  She was at a point in her life where falling for a bad boy like Rory O’Roarke was something she couldn’t afford to do.

  SUNDAY BRUNCH was a tradition in their family. As always, when Meg showed up at her parents’ ranch-style home on the outskirts of Twin Palms, she found her father sitting on the front porch in one of the rockers that her mom had purchased at the Cracker Barrel.

  Sometimes, she felt as if time had forgotten Twin Palms. It was so different from the city. Still, she did appreciate it more than she used to, when she’d left home for college and hoped she’d be able to stay gone.

  She parked her car, grabbed her purse and the plate of cookies she’d made last night when she couldn’t sleep. She’d desperately been trying to figure out how to get Rory O’Roarke out of her mind.

  As she got out of the car, her dad walked toward her. He was a fit man who’d always been slim and wasn’t overly tall, just reaching six feet. He’d retired from the police force four years ago.

  “Morning, honey,” he said, taking the cookie plate from her and giving her a one-armed hug.

  Her father was the only person who hugged her like he never wanted to let her go. She hugged him back, enjoying the scent of his Old Spice aftershave. And letting some of his strength seep into her.

  “Morning, Daddy,” she said. “I thought you’d be out fishing.”

  “I considered it, but I missed too many brunches when I was working. The boys can fish without me today.”

  “At least you won’t be there to scare the fish away,” she said. Her father loved to fish, but was notorious for not catching anything worth keeping.

  “You’re right about that. Good thing your mom never had to count on me to bring home dinner.”

  “We’d have just been happy to have you at dinner,” she said.

  He hugged her again as they walked into the house. He put her plate of cookies on the counter. “Your mom’s in the garden.”

  “Does she need my help?”

  “Well, she doesn’t need mine. Want to sit out front with me?”

  She nodded and went to sit in one of the rocking chairs. “Are you settling in okay, now that you’re back?” he asked.

  “Sort of. Twin Palms isn’t as bad as I remembered,” she said.

  “What was so bad about it?”

  She shrugged. She didn’t want to say anything that might offend her dad. “I just like having a Starbucks
on the corner and being able to order in dinner.”

  “I don’t know about that. I need space and a good lake to fish on.”

  “I know you do. I always felt like a changeling,” she said.

  “You’re a Starling all right. Stubborn and determined to forge your own path.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  “You’re welcome, honey. I’m glad you didn’t bring that Hollis boy back. He was a bit too uppity for my taste.”

  She laughed. “You scared him.”

  “Good,” her dad said with a big smile. “I’m glad you’re back.”

  “Me, too.”

  And she realized she was. Years ago, she’d thought her dreams were too big for Twin Palms. But it was starting to look like that was no longer the case.

  What she really needed was help her father couldn’t give her. She needed to figure out a strategy that would convince Rory to let her have the Clapham place. Luckily, Anne came up with a solution later that afternoon while her parents were washing the dishes together.

  “What’s up?” Anne said. “You’ve been distracted all day and I’m not the only one who’s noticed.”

  “Rory is bidding on the Clapham place. I think he’s going to drive the price up,” Meg said.

  Her sister was sitting next to her on the couch in the family room. It was the same place they’d shared all their heart-to-heart talks when they were kids. Anne glanced over at her.

  “So? Sell your half of the duplex and get some extra money.”

  “I can’t sell it,” Meg said. Her grandparents had given that property to her and Anne. Meg wouldn’t feel right letting it go.

  “Why not? You don’t want to stay there and you could use the money to buy a place of your own.”

  “Grandma would feel bad if I sold it. She likes the idea that you and I live next to each other, the same way she did with Aunt Darla when they were younger.”

  Anne put her hand on Meg’s leg. “We’re not Grandma and Aunt Darla. I think you should do whatever will make you happy.”

  Meg nodded. Anne had offered a solution she hadn’t considered. “I’ll keep that in mind as a last resort. I’d rather find a way to make Rory consider buying something else.”

  “The Clapham place is in pretty crappy shape,” Anne said. “Why do you want it?”

  The words were on the tip of her tongue, but she stopped them at the last minute. She didn’t want to jinx it. And until she owned the Clapham place and started working on it, it still felt like a dream and one that might not come true.

  “I need a project to pour my energy into, something to prove I didn’t lose my skills while I was running around helping everyone else in New York.”

  Her sister hugged her and Meg realized she’d missed this. She’d needed it, too. Being on her own had done wonders to help her improve her self-confidence, but now she was coming to realize what it meant to be home.

  Chapter Nine

  THE FOLLOWING Thursday night, Anne knocked on her door with a bottle of wine and a big salad from the diner. “Got any plans?”

  Meg had been working on a draft of the renovations she wanted to do at the Clapham place. She and Rory had reached an agreement. Rather than continuing to drive the price up, they decided to split the cost and share the place. He only had one condition—that his brother would do the carpentry work.

  Given that she was going to have to hire a carpenter anyway, she didn’t have a problem with that.

  The producer from the HGTV show wanted to do a Skype interview tomorrow at ten, but she had already prepared what she was going to say. Going over it countless times would only make her doubt herself. So the timing of Anne’s visit was perfect.

  “No, come in,” she said, opening the door wider as the sound of sirens blared from Main Street. The firehouse was only three blocks from the small residential complex where Anne and Meg lived.

  “Rory’s on shift tonight,” Anne said.

  “Did I ask?”

  “You looked curious,” she said. “By the way, everyone was impressed with the way he took control at the accident scene the other day. The captain even said it wouldn’t be long until Rory made lieutenant again.”

  “Was he before?”

  “Yes. He’s the son of some hotshot firefighter. It must be in the blood, because he’s the real deal.”

  “Really? Why are you telling me this?” Meg asked.

  “Maybe because I was talking to one of my customers the other day. She said she was in the gym last week, running on the treadmill that faces the basketball courts, and saw you kissing him.”

  “Uh . . . that wasn’t what it looked like.”

  “It wasn’t a kiss?” Anne asked, pouring a glass for wine for each of them as they got to the kitchen. “I was going to tease you about it at Mom and Dad’s but it didn’t seem to be the right time. Tonight, on the other hand . . .”

  “What’s different tonight?”

  “My ex called and asked me if I was busy. If I’m alone, I’ll be tempted to give in and go over there. And then tomorrow morning, I’d regret it.”

  “Well, I’d probably do the same if Rory called.”

  “You would? Why? He seems like a great guy,” Anne said.

  “He is, but I’m not ready for anything serious,” Meg said. “The other night, he needed to talk and I needed to be needed.”

  “I get it. Just remember he isn’t one of your projects. People aren’t like houses.”

  She knew that. Houses were easy to fix. A little bit of dry wall and some nails and she could make it as good as new. People weren’t like that.

  Not that Rory needed fixing. He was in fine form already.

  But no matter how good he kissed or how many times she woke up in a sweat with her pulse racing because she’d been dreaming of him, she had to keep reminding herself that she hadn’t come back to Twin Palms to find a man. She’d come back to regroup. She’d even changed the photo on her phone. She’d considered deleting it, but in the end, she decided that she wanted to keep it.

  Wanted that sweet memory of what she’d never have.

  MEG HAD SPENT the following afternoon at the flea market in Kissimmee and had found an antique fire alarm pull box. It was rusted and in pretty rough shape, but it made her think of Rory and so she’d bought it. Besides, she needed a new project for her blog. As soon as the HGTV people had contacted her about the new show, she’d known she’d need to regularly update her blog with new projects so they’d see what she could bring to the table.

  She also needed something to keep her mind off a certain firefighter with stormy blue eyes and the cutest ass in town.

  She hadn’t sought him out, but it was hard to avoid running into each other in a town this size. She saw him at the diner when she’d stopped by to pick up a pie to take to her mentor, Miss Prudence, at the Twin Palms Rest Home. The elderly woman had been Meg’s first-grade teacher and had always encouraged Meg to reach for the stars.

  Anne was sitting on her own front porch as Meg pulled into the driveway. Her sister was reading a book and Meg noticed a pitcher of lemonade on the table next to her.

  Meg turned off her car, then, pushing her sunglasses up on her head to keep her hair out of her face, she opened the trunk and got out the fire alarm box and a bag of old Victorian beads she’d purchased. Before she reached the stairs, her sister had come to meet her.

  “Where have you been?”

  “At the flea market. You okay?”

  “No, I need to talk,” Anne said.

  “What about? Did Cal call again?” Cal was her sister’s ex.

  “No. I wanted to talk to you about the diner. What’d you get?”

  “Just an antique to use for my blog and some beads. I thought you could use them for your steampunk clothin
g.”

  Meg handed Anne the bag and Anne opened it up and poked around. Her sister had an online business making outfits for steampunk events. Anne liked that subgenre of fiction, and she was a great seamstress.

  While Meg had been following her dad out to his woodworking shed, Anne had been looking over their mom’s shoulder learning to sew. Both of them used those skills to supplement their income.

  “Thanks. These will be great.”

  “You’re welcome. It’s hot out,” Meg said. “Why don’t you get your lemonade and we can talk inside?”

  Meg walked into her house and felt the welcoming coolness of the air-conditioning. She had an old butcher-block table in her kitchen on which she’d placed a table runner and an old milk pitcher filled with Gerber daisies.

  She put the box on the floor, then cleared the table and covered it with some old newspapers she kept in the corner. She pulled the fire alarm out of the box and put it on the table for a closer look.

  She was anxious to get started on it. But within minutes, Anne was back with the lemonade. Meg got a couple of Mason jar glasses out of the cupboard and Anne poured them a drink.

  “Okay, what’s up?”

  “I’ve received an offer on the diner. And it’s one I’m not sure I can say no to,” Anne said.

  “Why can’t you say no?” Meg asked. Her sister had a habit of making mountains out of molehills. This was probably one of those cases.

  “I took out a second loan last year to fund the renovations of the interior.”

  “Why did you do that?”

  “I needed something to do after Cal and I split up,” Anne said. “The diner was aching for new look, so I just took a shot and did it.”

  “Who’d you get the loan through? Is that why you might have to sell?”

  “Yes. It was a private loan—through someone I thought was a friend. But now he wants to be a partner. What am I going to do?”