Up in Flames Read online

  It was time to start over.

  "It's time to meet ole Ms. Baker."

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  Chapter Two

  Still rattled by her encounter with the topless hunk at the gas station, Jules reached the farm. At least seeing Mr. Mitchell had been nice. He never changed. She'd spent the last few months hating the fact some people were so changeable, untrustworthy. She'd needed to see not everyone was like Kevin, that some were like her, loyal to the end.

  She began to grow excited again. The decision to come home had been a monumental one. On passing the fire station, she'd wondered if she was doing the right thing, but on the meandering drive back to the farm, she realized it felt right.

  She'd made a good choice. For the first time in a while.

  Jules pulled up to the farm amidst a flurry of gravel and dust, and parked in the garage out back. She turned off the ignition and sat in the Jeep for a moment, and then she went out to look at the house.

  It was nice, as far as farmhouses went, and her parents’ pride and joy. So many memories came flooding back as she gazed at the rambling Victorian. Although the property was quiet, it came suddenly to life in her mind's eye.

  She could envision Claire chasing her down the length of the wrap-around porch, screaming to have her favorite pullover given back. Jules could also see herself as a pony-tailed youngster, swinging on the porch swing after helping her mother with the chores.

  If she allowed herself to delve even further into her bank of memories, she could see her mom knitting in her favorite chair in the back garden. How she loved watching her mother's slender fingers manipulate the wool, transforming it into lovely shawls and baby blankets for friends. Even though Jules had had no patience to learn how to knit, she'd always looked forward to sitting with her mom, and swapping tales over lemonade.

  And if she sneaked a glimpse at the barn door to her left, she'd see her father again, puttering away with his many tools and tending to the cows.

  It was also the spot where she came upon him that final time, his figure prostrate and lifeless on the ground.

  "There was nothing you could do,” she reminded herself. “He was already gone. At least he passed in the place he loved."

  It had been a heart attack, plain and simple. But when her mother had followed him a mere six months later, the shock had been just as overpowering as the grief.

  Of course, Jules reminded herself, they were already old when they had us.

  Hugh and Carol Baker had tried for years to have children, and then finally stopped trying, assuming it wasn't meant to be. Claire and Jules had somehow surprised them in their later years. The girls knew their parents wouldn't be around forever, but Jules was still surprised at how quickly her mother seemed to fade without her husband.

  "I hear that's how it often is with older couples,” Claire had said upon the death of their mother. “One goes, and the other follows. It's kind of romantic, in a way."

  It hadn't felt romantic to Jules. In fact, there had never been a time in her life which seemed less romantic, especially after Kevin betrayed her. He had only added insult to the injury of her parents’ deaths.

  "No.” She got out of the Jeep and slammed the door behind her. “I wasted enough time on that man. I refuse to give him a single, extra thought."

  She trudged up the path to the porch, trying her best to push Kevin, her parents and her past to the back of her mind. There was enough to think about, just sorting out her future.

  She knew the house would be in good shape, if in need of a major cleaning. Claire had been back regularly, just to check in on the place, and the Andersons next door had promised to keep an eye on it as well. It seemed upon the first cursory inspection they were true to their word, which was a relief because Jules knew she could not have stepped foot on the property before today.

  Even now, it was hard to forget the pain enveloping her beloved family home.

  Certainly, there could have been worse places to have a homecoming, notably the apartment on Elizabeth Street. She didn't relish having to pass the site where she'd discovered Kevin that day, although she knew she'd have to see it at some point.

  "Damn that man.” She fumbled in her purse for her keys.

  There was no time to think of Kevin. Not when her first boarder, Captain Gaskill, was descending on her that evening. She'd hoped to have a bit more time to prepare for his arrival, but he'd seemed eager to move out of his motel and had assured her by email he wasn't afraid of a little dust.

  If only he weren't a firefighter. She inhaled deeply, wondering if this was going to prove to be a horrific mistake. A firefighter. What was she thinking?

  However, Claire had convinced her because he was a captain, an authority figure, he couldn't possibly be like the other firefighters she knew. The ones who had helped Kevin betray her. Jules figured Captain Gaskill would be a sweet, old guy. His e-mails were cordial enough. Surely he wouldn't be interested in the juvenile shenanigans of his men.

  She put the key in the lock, and heard a car zooming up the dirt road towards the house.

  "No,” she gasped. “He can't be here already! I haven't even gone in yet!” With mounting dread, she turned to face the driver.

  Shane pulled up to his new abode and parked next to a sporty, little Mazda. He couldn't help laughing. “No station wagons for my little, old landlady. Her car is better than mine."

  Even though he knew he had a couple of sportier models, currently being stored at his dad's place, he loved his dirty pick-up. Bear, as he liked to call it because of its temperamental nature, had seen him through many adventures and he just couldn't part with it. He loved Bear, even though Alana had never wanted to set foot in it.

  "You come from money, Shane,” she used to whine. “It's time to stop driving your hillbilly truck."

  He'd laughed at first, until he realized she wasn't joking.

  Once again, breathing deeply, he dismissed his memories of Alana.

  Launching his six-foot-plus frame up the steps two by two, Shane reached for the doorbell. He rang twice but no one answered. Then, his keen senses kicked in and he picked up the sound of two voices, a woman's and a man's. They seemed to be coming from around the back of the house.

  Quietly, he walked down the length of the wrap-around porch. He could pick up bits of the conversation before he even saw the two people. They were clearly arguing.

  "What makes you think you can just show up here after six months? Have you forgotten everything you did? I want you out of here, Kevin."

  "Jules, you never gave me a chance to explain..."

  "Exactly what sort of explanation were you planning on offering? Did those women just lie down at your feet? ‘Oh, please, Kevin. Take me, take me!’”

  Shane's eyebrows rose. This woman was mad, and he felt a bit seedy overhearing their exchange. He was about to head back to the car and wait when something the woman said caught his ear.

  "And you, a firefighter, of all things. Sworn to protect your community, but you didn't give a damn about your own girlfriend."

  She sounded so angry, yet plaintive at the same time. Her vulnerability touched him and he decided to stick around. Besides, the man was a firefighter. Shane's curiosity got the better of him and he poked his head around the corner of the porch.

  When he saw the woman, his breath caught in his throat. It was her, the rude but delectable brunette from the gas station. The one, he loathed to admit, he'd been thinking of almost the entire drive over.

  "We meet again,” he whispered. “Maybe Ms. Baker has a gorgeous granddaughter?"

  Gorgeous didn't seem to be the right word for her, he decided, as he watched her argue with the firefighter. Her delicate face had blushed rosy pink from anger, and her bright eyes shone with indignation. She was splendid in her fury, from her cropped black hair to the shapely legs extending from her khaki shorts. Her body was tense, but her stiff shoulders could not detract from the soft, swelling bosom below them.
The woman's fists were clenched, so much so he ached to calm and relax her. Her generous lips were pursed into a tight line, but he remembered their sweet fullness when she'd gawked open-mouthed at him at the gas station.

  No, her anger did nothing to diminish her many charms. Gorgeous wasn't quite a strong enough word to describe her. Stunning seemed more appropriate.

  "Oh, come on, babe,” the other man replied. “You always took things so seriously."

  "You mean, like our relationship? Yes, I did."

  "I swear, those others meant nothing to me."

  Listening to the other man, the other firefighter, Shane felt his own anger rising. How many others did he have when he had this knockout as a girlfriend?

  "Kevin, I can't do this right now. Please, just go.” Her eyes grew moist.

  Her tears were not lost on Shane. He felt his stomach clench, and he was seized by the extraordinary impulse to protect her. She might be a bit odd, careening away from him earlier, but something in her luscious figure and angelic face called to him.

  He heard the other man, Kevin, begin to protest. And then, Shane heard his own baritone voice cutting through it. “I believe the lady asked you to leave."

  Shocked, the other two turned to see Shane hurtle over the porch railing to the yard below. He pulled himself to his full height and approached Kevin and the brunette.

  "Who the hell are you?” Kevin demanded. “This is a private conversation."

  "The lady asked you to leave.” He nodded at her, and then came to within a foot of Kevin's face. “Consider it an order from your captain."

  "What?” Kevin blurted, as the woman's jaw hit the floor.

  "You're the new fire captain?” she asked. And then her eyes dropped to his chest, the one he'd last displayed in its naked, sweaty glory.

  Shane inclined his head toward her and smiled. Damn. Up close she was even prettier. At that moment, he would have given anything to get rid of that Kevin.

  "Captain Gaskill?” Kevin ventured. A comical flurry of emotions flew across his face, betraying everything from anger at being interrupted to fear for his job.

  "And you are?"

  "Kevin McGuinness. It seems you're my new boss,” he said slowly, as if mentally choosing his tactic for dealing with the unwanted newcomer. “You've got the wrong idea, though. This lady and I have a relationship..."

  "Had a relationship,” she broke in.

  "Mr. McGuinness, we'll talk again when I'm settled at the station.” Shane used his most authoritative tone, the one that brooked no opposition.

  Kevin, blue eyes blazing and blushing himself now, stared down his captain. Shane suppressed a chuckle, wondering at his luck at making an enemy in Riverbend, despite having only been there a few days. He could see Kevin wanted to take a swing him, but had enough brains to decide against it.

  Instead, the man addressed the woman. “I'll talk to you soon."

  "Whatever,” she replied. As soon as Kevin pulled away in the Mazda, she stormed toward the house.

  Shane called out to her. “Miss, excuse me. Do you know where I can find Ms. Baker?"

  "Why, Captain Gaskill, you've already found her.” She turned about, hazel eyes flashing and then pounded down the walkway to the house.

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  Chapter Three

  Jules wished she could just scurry away from the attractive, yet formidable, firefighter behind her, but he seemed insistent on following her.

  "Wait,” he called, “you're my landlady? I'll be living with you?"

  She didn't respond and just headed to the farmhouse door, fuming. She was aware of him behind her, muttering something about wonders never ceasing, but she tried not to listen.

  She began to grumble to herself. “When I get a hold of Claire, I'll throttle her.” As she walked up the front steps ahead of him, imagining a dozen ways to punish her nosy sister, she felt her ass start to burn. She looked over her shoulder at the man behind her, only to be confronted by the sight of his smiling, brown eyes trained on her derriere.

  "Why, if you don't mind me asking?” he asked.

  She spun around and almost bumped into him. He steadied her by clasping her arms. His strength and warmth shot through her like an electric shock. “Oh, she just never mentioned you were so..."

  "So what?"

  She took in his disarming smile and the shock of sandy hair that kept falling into his eyes. There was something altogether boyish about his crooked grin, torn jeans and mussed hair. At the same time, she couldn't deny the manliness of his solid biceps and towering frame. And in his soft brown eyes there was a depth, a certain maturity telling of hardship and experience. Jules found it hard to look away. “I, uh, guess I expected someone with a buzz cut."

  He pushed his stray bangs off his face and laughed. God help her, he had to see what a lame attempt that was. He must know she found him attractive.

  "I know. I need a trim.” His eyes narrowed, but didn't lose the twinkle of amusement. “Let me guess. You expected someone ... older, maybe?"

  "I suppose so.” And someone gnarly. And homely. And less ruggedly beautiful.

  "Yeah, I get that reaction all the time. For some reason, people seem to think thirty-five isn't mature enough to be a captain.” He stretched his arms, and Jules forced herself to maintain contact with his eyes. “I look older in the uniform."

  She bit her lip, deciding it wasn't wise to picture him in his uniform. Like many women, a man in uniform was about enough to turn her to mush. But since her experience with Kevin, she hadn't been keen on the firefighter uniform at all. “You're very early, you know. When we last e-mailed, you indicated you'd be here this evening. I don't even have your room ready for you."

  He grimaced. “I know. I'm sorry. Unfortunately, I didn't realize my motel had such an early check-out time. I should have called."

  "No, no, it's okay. As long as you don't mind me puttering around you with my bleach and rubber gloves."

  He got an odd look on his face then. He muttered something about not minding and passed a hand over his knit brow. Before he could hide it, she noticed the massive erection in his jeans.

  Sweet Jesus, did the idea of her in yellow rubber gloves make him horny? Maybe his lascivious mind was imagining her in those gloves and nothing else.

  "Well,” she interrupted his clearly sex-crazed thoughts, “would you like to see the house?"

  "Sure."

  She led him into the foyer, conscious of the fact it gave him yet another opportunity to appraise her ass.

  "You know, I've got to be honest, Ms. Baker. You're not what I expected either."

  She raised an eyebrow. “Oh, no?"

  "Nah. I thought Juliet Baker was a little, old lady.” He laughed. “I don't suppose you spend your time knitting doilies?"

  "Not lately.” He was charming, this firefighter, a little too charming. They were all the same. Kevin had won her over with his trustworthy appearance, and then he had steamrolled right over her. “Listen, maybe this isn't what you're looking for. I'm sure you want to be closer to the fire hall. Plus, this is an old farm and I'll be doing lots of renovations to convert it into a B&B eventually. It'll get noisy. It'll get dusty. I have so much I need to fix. Surely, you want something newer, more modern."

  "You seem to know a lot about what I want.” He cocked an eyebrow at her and let his words sink in. “Actually, I think it's nice around here, and I don't want to be in town. I'll be spending enough time as it is at the fire hall with ten-hour shifts. Besides, I've worked in construction. I'm quite accustomed to noise and dust."

  A firefighter who'd worked in construction. Could anyone get more ridiculously macho than that? “But..."

  "You know, I'm pretty handy with a hammer and a paintbrush.” He fingered a piece of peeling paint on the wall. “I'd be more than happy to help you with any repairs."

  "It's not necessary, Captain Gaskill."

  "Don't worry. I'm not angling to get a reduction in my rent.” He w
as clearly trying to make her smile, but Jules refused to give him the satisfaction. “The terms you outlined in your email were more than fair, that is, assuming I get to see my living quarters any time soon."

  "Oh, right!” She scurried down the hallway, feeling badly for keeping him and his otherworldly erection standing there. Where were her manners? There was something about the man which was throwing her right off, and it had everything to do with the twinkle in his eye and the boner in his pants. “There's a large guestroom with an adjoining bathroom and sitting area at the back of the house. It's just through there if you want to have a look."

  "Thanks. I'll check it out."

  As the captain made his way to the back of the house, Jules fluffed her hair in the hall mirror and then caught herself.

  Look at you, preening like a peacock, she thought. And over another damn firefighter!

  She thought of Mr. Mitchell's warning. Maybe this man was a masher, although for the life of her, she wasn't quite sure what being a masher entailed. She just knew it wasn't good.

  "Should I really be letting this man into my house?” she whispered. She wanted nothing in her life reminiscent of Kevin and his kind. Wanted no memories of how he'd treated her. Surely having Kevin's boss under the same roof was a mistake. A huge, head-walloping, heart-stopping mistake.

  He was probably just like Kevin.

  Still, she conceded, he seemed nice and he did come to her defense outside. And he was new to town, so he wasn't really part of Kevin's blasted brotherhood. Not yet, anyway.

  Of course, financially it made sense. Jules knew it would take a while before she could find another boarder, especially one who offered to help with paintjobs and touch ups.

  And, she reminded herself, it was a big house. They'd probably never see each other.

  She refused to even dignify the thought she was curious about what his erection looked like when unconfined by denim.

  He emerged, smiling, from the guestroom. “I like it. Especially the dancing cow wallpaper in the sitting room."

  Jules cringed. “Sorry about that. We do have a lot of cows in here. When my mother first decorated this place years ago, country chic was very much in.” She looked around, her expression doubtful. “Actually, it's quite heavy on the country and a little light on the chic. Like I said, it needs updating."