Winter's Fire (Welcome to Covendale #7)

by Morgan Blaze

She shot him a searing look.

  “It’s not like that,” he said quickly. “In fact, it’s pretty relevant. We’re having a retirement party for Ben Schaeffer, the guy who—well, used to run the Valley Ridge station. It’s at the Klinker.”

  “The what?”

  “The only bar in town. You can’t miss it,” he said. “How about it? You’d be able to talk to the guys there, get to know them.”

  “And why would I want to do that?”

  Her downright frigid tone took him aback. In that moment, her name suited her perfectly. “Guess you wouldn’t,” he said with a careful shrug. “Anyway, the invitation’s open. Party starts at eight.”

  She frowned and handed him the last folder. “Fine. Thank you for the invitation,” she said absently, moving to the table where she’d left her briefcase. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get this done.”

  Adam backed out of the room without another word, surprised at the heavy sense of loss he felt. It’d only been one night, and they’d barely spoken—but it was a night he couldn’t forgot. He’d tried to find her on and off for the past year, hoping for a chance at something more. Knowing that he’d never meet another woman like her.

  But now that she was here, he suspected there never had been a chance…and never would be.

  Chapter 3

  This investigation was going to take a lot longer than Winter had hoped.

  She’d gone over the paperwork at the fire station for hours, until her body ached and her vision blurred—but if there were any discrepancies, she hadn’t found them yet. A few of the files she’d set aside for more detailed review. Six of them specifically, each with numbers that felt off. And perhaps coincidentally, the copier had cut off the signature from the last page of each file.

  There wasn’t anything blatantly wrong with them, but her instincts suggested something was there. She’d learned to trust those instincts.

  It was after six by the time she returned to the bed and breakfast. She’d seen only two men at the station when she left. Presumably, the rest of them were getting ready for the party. The one Adam had invited her to, as if he just wanted to be friends. As if that could somehow happen after what they’d done last summer.

  Well, she wasn’t about to give him a repeat performance. That had to be what he wanted. Guys like him weren’t interested in relationships, especially with plain-looking, boring nobodies like her.

  A small part of her whispered that wasn’t fair, she had no idea what he was like because she’d never given him a chance. She crushed the whisper ruthlessly.

  She managed to make it to her room at the bed and breakfast unnoticed, and decided to try out the Jacuzzi before she made any further decisions. As it turned out, it was incredible. She could have spent the rest of the night immersed in that deliciously warm, roiling water. But she made herself get out before she could wrinkle like a prune, then she dried off, dressed, and called Teddy.

  He answered his cell on the third ring. “Hey, Win. I thought you’d be back by now,” he said in gently teasing tones. “I mean, peaceful and relaxing just isn’t your style, right?”

  “Well, it’s peaceful. But I’m not sure I can relax.” She told him about the lack of problems so far with the fire department’s paperwork—which in itself was a problem—and the feeling there was something wrong. She left out the part about running into her one-night stand, which of course she’d never told him about in the first place. “It looks like I might be here for a few days, after all,” she said.

  “Well, good. Not good that there might be complications,” Teddy said. “But I still think you could use the time away from the city. Tell me you’ve tried the Jacuzzi.”

  She grinned. “Just got out, actually.”

  “Ah. Now I can live vicariously through you.” He paused long enough to make the silence awkward, and then said, “So I guess it’s too much to hope you’ll do something other than hang out in your room by yourself all night.”

  “Actually, I was invited to a party.”

  “And you’re going?”

  “Of course not,” she said. “I just thought I’d mention it, so you know I’m not a complete social outcast.”

  “Win…” He was slipping into concerned-parent mode now. Teddy had been like a father to her ever since she started at the fire marshal’s office. He’d known her parents even before the accident that took the daughter they actually cared about, and for some reason felt it was his responsibility to step in where they’d left off.

  She loved him dearly, but sometimes he worried far more than he should.

  “You really should meet some new people, you know,” he said. “Why not go?”

  “Because I’m investigating them,” she told him. “It’s a retirement party for one of the firefighters here. Does the term conflict of interest ring a bell?”

  “How about the term casual interaction?”

  She frowned. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

  “Come on, Win,” he said. “You’re going to interview them formally, right?”

  “Of course. First thing tomorrow.”

  “Well, you might learn more if you talk to them in a casual setting.”

  “Teddy…are you suggesting that I trick them into giving me information?”

  “I’m suggesting that you’re making this investigation harder than it needs to be,” he said. “Right now, you’re an outsider in a small town. I guarantee they’ll be a close-knit bunch, and they won’t like talking to a stranger. You get to know them a little, and they’ll be more willing to cooperate.”

  She gave an exasperated sigh. “I suppose that makes sense,” she said.

  “Good. So you’re going to the party.”

  She hesitated. It was a good idea, in theory—but it’d mean seeing Adam Rhodes in a non-business environment. And as much as she tried to deny it, she was still attracted to him. Extremely attracted. But she couldn’t tell her boss she wasn’t going because the stranger she’d slept with on her last vacation would be there.

  “Win?”

  “Yes,” she said. “All right. I’m going.”

  “Thank you. You’ve made me a happy old geezer.”

  That made her smile a little. “You’re not that old, you know.”

  “Old enough,” he said. “Now, go. And try to have a little fun, will you?”

  “I’ll try. Call you tomorrow.”

  They said goodbye, and fresh trepidation filled her as she disconnected the call. She absolutely couldn’t afford to make the same mistake she’d made a year ago. It had taken her far too long to get over the man she barely knew—and even now she was realizing she wasn’t as over him as she’d thought. Being intimate with him again would cost her dearly.

  The problem was that if he tried…she wasn’t sure she could resist.

  * * * *

  The party was in full swing long before the official start time, but Adam didn’t feel much like joining. He’d made the rounds, gone through the motions. Maybe he’d drank too much already. Now he was watching Dom and another firefighter, Sean Fletcher, shoot a round of pool at the table they’d moved into the back room, while he nursed his fourth beer and ate a bowl of party-mix peanuts without tasting them.

  He couldn’t stop thinking about her.

  After he left Winter with her precious files, he kept hoping she’d come looking for him. Even if it was just to ask a business question. He’d even checked in on her a few times—through the window, not daring to open the door and risk her wrath—but she’d kept her head buried in work. She was still there when he left.

  Obviously, she was very determined to finish her job and get out of town. And away from him. It really stung that she thought so little of the time they’d shared.

  But hard as he tried, he couldn’t get angry with her.

  “All right, I’m done wiping the floor with Fletcher’s sorry ass. Your turn, bro.”

  Adam jerked, sloshing a little beer at the sound of Dom’s v
oice. “Why don’t you two go again?” he said. “Bet you a fresh round she was taking it easy on you.”

  “I heard that,” Sean called from the pool table where she was racking the balls. “He’s right, Shepherd. I let you have that one for your ego.”

  “Sure you did. You’re not better at everything, you know.”

  “Better than you? Yes I am.”

  “All right. Let’s see you pee standing up.”

  “Still better.”

  Dom smirked and turned back to face Adam, his expression growing serious. “What’s eating you, man? You’ve been out of it all day.”

  “Nothing.” Usually he could talk to his best friend about anything—but not this. “It’s just been a long day,” he said. “I’m beat.”

  “Uh-huh,” Dom said slowly. “And this wouldn’t have anything to do with that sweet, ball-crushing fire marshal you were acting so weird with earlier.”

  “Not a thing.”

  “Good. Then you won’t mind if I take a shot at her.”

  He snarled without realizing it. “Try it, and I’ll break your ass in half.”

  “I knew it.” Dom grinned. “She’s the one, isn’t she? Your summer fling, your long-lost mysterious stranger.”

  Adam held back a groan. He never should’ve told Dom about her, but he’d had to talk to somebody. In fact, Dom had almost been there with him. He’d offered to come to the funeral, but Adam insisted that he stay and keep an eye on things at home for him. Besides, he knew Dom wouldn’t spread it around the station—or the whole town, like some of the others would have. “Was it that obvious?”

  “You might as well’ve painted a sign, bro. You two were Awkward City.”

  “Great.”

  “Don’t worry. The witness ain’t talking.” Dom leaned on his pool cue and shook his head. “Damn, do you have it bad,” he said. “I take it she wasn’t overjoyed to see you.”

  “You could say that.” He took a long swig from his beer bottle. “As far as she’s concerned, it never happened.”

  “She actually said that?” Dom scowled. “What a bitch.”

  “No, she’s not,” he snapped, but the anger faded as fast as it came. “She made it clear back then that it was a one-time thing. I should’ve just dropped it.”

  Dom reached over and clapped his shoulder. “You’re way too good for her, anyway.”

  “Yeah, that’s me. Too good.”

  “Sometimes. But you suck at pool, so how about losing to me for a while?”

  He managed a smile. “I’ll let Sean have that honor for now,” he said. “Think I need another drink.”

  “Wanna grab me one?”

  “If you’re buying.”

  Dom produced a twenty and handed it to him. “Yours is on me, too.”

  “Thanks, bro.”

  Distracted and weary, Adam headed toward the main part of the bar, beneath the HAPPY RETIREMENT! banner strung across the entrance to the back room.

  That was when he walked straight into Winter Solomon.

  Chapter 4

  Winter gasped when someone collided with her from the side. Then she realized who it was, and her heart jumped into her throat.

  “Mr. Rhodes,” she said hoarsely. “Um…Adam. I was just—”

  His crooked smile seemed almost accusing. “Admiring the woodwork?”

  “Yes. That is, no.” She forced herself not to fidget. She’d found the bar easily enough, after a pleasant mile or so walk from the bed and breakfast, and it was impossible to miss the huge banner announcing the party. But she was still trying to work up the nerve to go in there, so she’d kind of stared at the wall to avoid making eye contact with anyone. “I’m fine, thank you,” she said.

  “Are you?” He arched an eyebrow. “Well, I’m glad you could make it, Miss Solomon.”

  The strained politeness in his tone made her regret insisting on formality. Teddy was right—if these men viewed her as a stranger and an outsider, the investigation would be like pulling teeth. With her bare hands. She’d have to be friendly.

  And strong enough to resist the pull that was already affecting her, simply from being this close to him.

  She drew a deep breath. “Call me Winter,” she said. “I mean, if you want to.”

  “So this isn’t business for you?”

  “Well…it’s a party,” she said. “Right?”

  “It’s supposed to be.”

  She sensed bitterness in his words and worried that she’d already failed at being friendly. If she didn’t want this to be a complete disaster, she’d have to address the elephant in the room—a topic she desperately wanted to avoid. But she’d still try to keep it vague. “Listen, I’m sorry about earlier today,” she said. “I was just…really surprised to see you. Shocked, in fact.”

  His hard features relaxed a fraction. “Same here,” he said. “Actually, shocked is an understatement. You’re definitely not what I picture when I hear fire marshal.”

  Her own laughter surprised her. “I’m not a fire marshal,” she said. “Just with the office. I’m an insurance investigator.”

  “Wow.”

  “I know. The most boring job ever.”

  “Not really.”

  He was smiling at her, a crooked quirk of his lips that took her breath away. She looked down fast and cleared her throat. “It is boring,” she said. “Anyway, I um…”

  “Hey, I was just headed to the bar for some drinks,” Adam said when she failed to continue—not that she had any idea what she would have said. “Can I get you one? You drink Mai Tais, right?”

  A blunt refusal rose instantly to her tongue, but she held it back. She’d been rude to him all day. But there was no reason not to be civil, and she could just limit herself to one drink. That way she wouldn’t be as…uninhibited as she’d been the first time they met. And she was also touched that he’d remembered her drink of choice. “I’d like that,” she said. “Thank you.”

  “You would?” His surprise melted into a smile. “Great. It’s this way.”

  She followed him closely through the semi-crowded room, and noticed that a lot of people here knew him. They called out, waved, greeted him by name, and he acknowledged each one in turn. This was worlds away from the city. In Greenway, she could go just about anywhere and not know a soul.

  Of course, her antisocial nature might have something to do with that, too.

  When they reached the bar, Adam hailed one of the bartenders and addressed him by name. “Hey, Matt,” he said. “Two Bud bottles and one Mai Tai, please.”

  Matt the bartender gave an incredulous smirk. “Mai Tai?” he said. “Nobody’s ordered one of those since old Mrs. Carmichael stopped coming here years ago. Our pineapples are probably covered with dust.”

  “Huh.” Adam turned to face her and smiled. “Do you mind dusty pineapples?”

  Winter looked from him to the bartender. “This is a joke,” she said. “Right?”

  “More or less,” Adam said with a laugh. “Just do the best you can, Matt. We’d like minimal dust with our drinks.”

  “You got it.”

  The bartender left, and Adam leaned back and propped his elbows on the bar. Winter looked away fast when she noticed the way his shirt stretched across his muscled torso. That wasn’t something she was going to think about now—especially since she knew what he looked like beneath the shirt. Tanned, sculpted, rock-hard perfection.

  Oh God. She was thinking about it.

  “So, the man who’s retiring,” she said, hoping a change of subject would cool her blood a bit. “You said his name is…Bill?”

  “Ben. I’ll introduce you to him in a minute.” Adam grinned. “You’re not very good with names, are you?”

  “Not really,” she admitted. “I don’t know a lot of people, so there aren’t that many names I have to keep straight.”

  A strange look came over his face. He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, a rough voice shouted, “Rhodes! You and me need to
have a word.”

  Adam’s gaze narrowed on something across the room. She followed it and saw a man who was almost as big as him, pushing through the crowd toward them. Two others followed closely at the leader’s heels.

  And unlike the rest of the bar crowd, none of them looked happy to see him.

  * * * *

  Adam stepped forward, half-shielding Winter as he met Ethan Goddard’s alcohol-fueled glare. Of course, the man had dragged Vermont and Kade along for whatever he wanted to bitch about tonight. The trio was a constant problem for him at the station—especially Ethan.

  “Whatever it is, it can wait,” he said in low tones when Ethan was close enough to hear. “I’m busy.”

  Ethan sneered. “What, with her?” he said, swinging his stare to Winter. “Saw her at the station earlier. What happened to no guests while we’re working, lieutenant?”

  “She’s not a guest.”

  “Then why’re you drinking with her?”

  “Excuse me,” Winter said with a heavy dose of haughtiness. “I’m with the county fire marshal’s office. Do you work for the Covendale FD?”

  Adam cringed inwardly. That might be the absolute worst way to start a conversation with Ethan Goddard. But before he could warn her off, Ethan demonstrated exactly why it was a bad idea.

  “Well, yes I do, sweetheart,” he said, leering at her. “You hear that, guys? This little thing’s a big-shot fire marshal. Means she pushes paper around while we do all the real work.” Behind him, Vermont and Kade filled his pause with the expected laugh. “So does that make you my superior, sweetheart?”

  “Back off, Ethan,” Adam snarled. “Not here, not now.”

  The man directed a glower at him. “Is she the reason you gave my promotion to that reject Aldridge?”

  Great. So that’s what this was about. “We’ll discuss this tomorrow. At work,” he said firmly. “You’re drunk.”

  “No shit I’m drunk.” Ethan’s jaw firmed. “And we’ll goddamn talk about it now.”

  Winter’s sudden gasp alerted him to the problem before he saw it—the clenched fist, the arm swinging around. He moved completely in front of her and caught the intended blow with one hand—then squeezed Ethan’s fingers. Hard. “Tomorrow,” he repeated, not bothering to hide the threat in his tone. “If you start something tonight, I will finish it. You won’t. Now go home and sleep it off.”