“Yes, ma’am. I’ll go grab some, if you can locate some newspaper and a lighter.”
He averted his eyes as he walked out, and Adeline frowned at his retreating back. How strange that he was the one who seemed uncomfortable.
Dismissing it, Adeline went in search of the requested items. She’d been told that the cabin was stocked with everything she needed, so she was pretty sure they’d be here somewhere.
The kitchen drawers held utensils, a few tools. Leftover brochures and maps from previous guests. Maybe that would work in terms of paper? She didn’t see why not.
Snagging those, she shut the drawer and started looking for matches or a lighter when a loud noise from the front porch caused her to jump.
Concerned, she hurried that direction. Pushing open the unlatched screen door, she spotted Sutton near the bottom of the steps, wielding an axe.
Adeline pulled up short. “If this is another horror movie joke, it’s not especially funny.”
“I’m making kindli…” Sutton turned from where he’d been splitting one of the logs into smaller pieces, and his voice trailed off again. Sitting the axe down, he dragged a hand over his face. “Look, I’m not sure what the proper protocol is here. Maybe you know, in which case, let me express my appreciation. But since I haven’t gotten that particular vibe from you, I’m going to guess you’re not aware of it. Your shirt is see-through.”
It took a moment to grasp what he was saying. When she had, Adeline glanced back down – and then immediately brought up her hands to cover her chest, dropping the papers in the process.
Oh my God. She’d been in a rush, and she hadn’t worn this shirt before. Nor had she looked in the mirror after she put it on. She’d assumed it was like most of her other athletic tops, capable of being worn without a sports bra or a tank, but now that she looked more closely…
Oh my God.
Feeling the heat creep into her face, she jerked her head back up. Sutton had busied himself with picking up the wood he’d just chopped.
“I’m just going to…”
Without turning, he lifted a hand in acknowledgement.
Hurrying back inside, Adeline darted toward the bedroom, and more importantly, the mirror. She got her first good look at her reflection.
And yep, there they were. Her very visible nipples. Now she understood why, when she’d said she was cold, Sutton imparted that he could tell.
Lifting a hand to cover her mouth, Adeline contemplated locking the bedroom door and waiting for him to leave. Or climbing out the window, sneaking to her car, and driving away – never to return. It didn’t really matter that she’d be leaving most of her possessions behind. He could have them.
You’re an adult, Adeline. It wasn’t like she’d inadvertently flashed the star quarterback in the high school locker room.
Just a hot firefighter who rescued puppies. Nothing to be embarrassed about.
Rolling her eyes, because she’d finally reached peak awkward – at least, sweet lord, she hoped so – Adeline grabbed the robe she’d discarded earlier. Among that, the loud pants, and the knee-high slippers, she was a fashion train wreck, but that was better than looking like the sole entrant in the Lake Rabun Wet T-shirt Contest.
Jesus. She pinched the bridge of her nose. It would have been better if she’d just gone ahead and put on the rain slicker. Let him think she was quirky, or downright insane.
Since she no longer heard the sound of the axe hitting wood, she assumed he was finished splitting it.
Mustering her nerve, she yanked open the door. It was a bit anticlimactic to find the living area empty.
The cabin wasn’t that large, and while she doubted he’d gone up into the sleeping loft, she glanced that direction to assure herself it was empty. Similarly, the door to the bathroom remained open. He must still be outside.
Probably afraid that he’d come in and find her strolling around bare-assed. Her face heated again. Sally would laugh her ass off when Adeline called her.
But Sally deserved to laugh. Grief had kept far too strong a grip on both of them.
Heading once more toward the front door, Adeline peered through the screen. Sutton stood on the porch with his back to her.
“It’s safe to open your eyes now.”
When he turned, she saw that he held the papers she’d dropped, and a deep frown creased his forehead.
“Is something wrong? Aside from my nipples assaulting your eyeballs.”
“Ah… no.” He tapped the brochures against his palm, the frown sliding into a grin. “And I’d hardly call it an assault.”
“I’m hoping this isn’t one of those bad things come in threes situations, because after falling through a floor and flashing you, I’m pretty well set on mishaps for today.”
The grin softened into something soothing. He really did have that air. “You saved a puppy and… improved the view, as far as I’m concerned. And while I wish you hadn’t hurt yourself in the process, Otis and I both thank you.”
“Otis? You named him?”
“He was already named. After I wrested him back from Ms. Mary, I took him by the shelter to see if he was microchipped since my equipment isn’t set up yet. Turns out he was registered. Deputy Wiggins was going to try to contact the owner to see if they have an explanation for how he ended up in that cellar.”
“Wait.” Adeline held up a hand. “Equipment?”
“Microchip scanner. Mine’s still in the box, because it’s kind of useless without the computer to check the number in the database, and my IT guy can’t fit me in until next week.”
Adeline felt like she’d been watching one movie, and after a commercial break it switched to something else. “I’m lost,” she admitted. “Firefighters scan for microchips?”
“What? Oh,” he said, cheerful grin returning. “I guess I only gave you a partial introduction today, didn’t I? I’m just a volunteer firefighter. In the real workaday world, I’m a vet.”
A light went on. “Now the questions you were asking me about the puppy – Otis – make sense. I was too… well, stressed at the time to question things.”
“Crashing through a rotted-out floor will do that.” He nodded toward her shoulder. “How are you feeling, by the way?”
“Ahhh…” To hell with it. He’d seen her nipples. It was probably time to drop the pretense. “Sore,” she admitted.
“I’ve noticed you favoring that arm. Can you move it?”
“Some. I think it’s more of a muscle strain than anything dislocated or broken, though. I’ll be fine,” Adeline insisted when he looked like he wanted to pursue it. She’d experienced a serious shoulder injury before. This wasn’t even in the same ballpark. “I picked up some acetaminophen, and I iced it earlier… which is why I had to hop in the shower. To warm up.”
Sutton tapped the brochures against his palm again. “I guess that’s a hint for me to stop badgering you about your shoulder and show you how to use the stove. You can have these back.”
He handed her the brochures.
“You don’t need them?”
“One, you want to avoid burning glossy paper or paper printed with colored ink, as they contain metals that can give off toxic fumes. I actually prefer wax fire starters because they don’t burn as fast and are less likely to ignite any creosote deposits, but those can get expensive. And two, I found newspaper and a lighter inside the log carrier.” He bent down to pick up the piece of canvas by the handles. “And now that we have kindling, you should be all set.”
“Oh. Fantastic. I really appreciate you doing that – chopping the wood. Even if you did give me a brief heart attack.”
“Consider us even.”
“What… oh,” Adeline said, realizing he was referring to her see-through top. “Right.”
Because he appeared to be a gentleman, he didn’t tease her further. “Let’s build us a fire, shall we?”
The process appeared straightforward enough. He built a little teepee out of kindling and paper so that air
could circulate beneath, giving the fire a chance to get going before it caught the bigger logs. The part that really concerned her was opening up the door and feeding the beast in order to keep it going.
“Seems like a good way to get burned.”
“That’s why you always wear this.” He held up his gloved hand. “The stove itself will get hot enough to fry an egg – and in fact this flat top was designed to do just that. Cook, I mean. Our predecessors were nothing if not efficient. You also need to wear it when you empty the ashes out of this tray.” He pointed to a drawer beneath the main opening. “Even if the fire has been out for a while, the ashes can retain hotspots. And make sure you wet them down before you dump them – on gravel or dirt, or preferably in the fire pit outside. Avoid dry leaves, even if you feel sure the ashes are cold. I’ve been to any number of fires started by improper disposal.”
“Being a firefighter on top of being a veterinarian seems like… a lot.”
“Sometimes,” he agreed, watching the growing fire for another moment before shutting the heavy iron door. “Although I usually volunteer just one weekend a month, sometimes more if they really need me. When I get my practice up and running here, though, I may have to cut back. But for now…” he hesitated a moment, and then met her gaze. “I’ll do what I can.”
He was close enough that Adeline could see that his eyes were grey, not blue as she’d originally thought. And she sensed that there was some sort of buried pain behind them.
But then it was gone, and they lit with what she’d gathered was his natural good humor. “Can I assume you’re not going to freeze to death now?”
It took a second for Adeline to process what he’d said, because she was distracted by his scent. Sawdust and soap.
“I’ll muddle through somehow.”
“Just remember that a proper fire is an active fire. Slow, smoldering fires cause the creosote I mentioned earlier to build up, which creates, well, a fire hazard if it ignites. And roaring fires waste wood and send most of your heat up the chimney rather than out into the house. The key is to try to keep it somewhere in the middle.”
“Like Goldilocks.”
He chuckled. “Exactly.”
They smiled at each other for a long moment, until Adeline realized that she’d stopped breathing. She stood up.
“Thanks again.”
She hadn’t meant to be dismissive, but even to her own ears, it sounded that way.
Sutton took the glove off, setting it on the raised hearth before climbing to his feet.
“Before I leave… I’ve avoided asking this question, because I didn’t want to freak you out even more than I already did by showing up at your door. But are you staying here by yourself?” He held up a hand. “You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to. Hell, I wouldn’t want to if I were you.”
And normally, Adeline wouldn’t. But she also wouldn’t have been likely to invite a strange man who showed up at her door into her house.
For whatever reason, she trusted that Sutton didn’t mean her harm.
“I am. My father passed away recently, and this cabin… well. It belongs to my family. It’s where he and my mother met over thirty years ago.”
“Wow. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pour salt on a wound.”
“You didn’t.”
He looked skeptical, but pressed on. “I don’t want to sound presumptuous, because I’m sure you’re capable of taking care of yourself, even with a bum arm, but… if you need anything while you’re here – more kindling split, recommendations for good spots to eat, a list of places with questionable structural integrity that you may want to avoid. Whatever. Feel free to give me a call. Um,” he pulled something from his back pocket. “I actually just picked these up a few days ago, and I was going to leave one with your hat if you weren’t home. My card.”
He handed it to her.
Dr. Sutton M. McCloud DMV/MPH, followed by his phone number and the address of his clinic.
“What, no comic sans?”
“Pardon?”
“Sorry,” Adeline waved a hand, realizing she hadn’t meant to say that out loud. “It’s, um, graphic design humor. Whenever someone in my office would see a very… basic font like courier here, we’d joke by saying at least they didn’t use the most aesthetically offensive font ever created, which of course is comic sans, and… anyway, your card is very nice.” She cleared her throat. “MPH?”
Sutton wasn’t distracted. “I only understood about half of what you just said, but I do believe there was an insult buried in there.”
“Your business card is boring, Sutton.”
He took it from her hand, looked it over. “It conveys all of the pertinent information in clear, legible print.”
“It sure does.”
Frowning, he slowly passed it back. “Since when are business cards supposed to be exciting?”
“Since the dawn of visual marketing. But anyway, you never answered my question. What does MPH stand for?”
He looked like he wanted to further argue his point, but thankfully didn’t. “Master of public health,” he said. “I was planning to leave that part off since I’m going to be operating a regular practice now, but my dad reminded me that he helped pay for an extra year of school for those initials, so…”
“What kind of practice did you operate before, if it wasn’t normal?”
“Oh, I didn’t have a practice. Until a couple of months ago, I worked for the CDC as veterinary epidemiologist.”
Adeline could only stare. “An epidemiologist.”
“I monitored disease outbreaks in animal populations.”
“Yes, I know what an epidemic is. My dad…” her voice caught, and she was forced to swallow before continuing. “My dad was a marine biologist, and one of the things he specialized in was red tide and the…” she searched for the right word “brevetoxins, I think they’re called, that it produces.”
“Really?” Interest lit his eyes, but then he winced, seeming to recall what she’d just told him. “I keep stepping in it, don’t I?”
“No. It’s fine, really.” She tilted her head. “You’re quite the jack of all trades.”
“Two. Two trades. Although one of them is strictly unpaid, so… one trade.”
Adeline found herself with at least a dozen questions, not the least of which was how someone so, well, hunky could be such a science geek. She knew she was stereotyping, but she’d also grown up with a researcher, and had met countless of his colleagues. None of them looked like Sutton.
“Well. I’ll just… let you get on with your afternoon.”
Adeline realized she’d been lost in thought again, and had let the conversation lapse. “I really do appreciate your help. All of it.”
“It’s my pleasure.” He studied her another moment, looking like he wanted to say something else, but then he just shook his head. “You take care now. And if you need anything, really. Don’t hesitate to call.”
Adeline walked with him to the door, feeling like she should say something else besides thank you, but she couldn’t quite figure out what. Sorry for showing you my nipples didn’t seem appropriate. And so, she watched him descend the steps and climb into his truck without saying anything.
Veterinary epidemiologist. For the CDC, no less. Good God. Her father would have loved talking to him.
Sutton waved, and Adeline waved back before shutting the door and leaning against it.
She stood there for several moments, trying to figure out why she felt so strange. And then it dawned on her.
She was warm.
CHAPTER FOUR
SUTTON glanced into the rearview mirror as he pulled away from the cabin, but Adeline had gone back inside. Hesitating at the end of the gravel drive, he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.
He was reluctant to leave.
Not so much because he was attracted to her, although shit, he’d been that even before she’d waltzed out in that shirt.
Je
sus.
Shaking his head, Sutton could only chuckle when he recalled the way he’d almost swallowed his tongue. He hoped he hadn’t embarrassed her too badly. But it had been a matter of acknowledging it, or fleeing before he developed an untimely erection. Since he didn’t want to leave without showing her how to use the cabin’s main source of heat, he’d opted to be blunt. Because beneath the parka and granny robe that he’d seen her in previously, Adeline Walker had a very… arresting figure.
But more to the point, beneath the razor wit, she also had an air about her not unlike the puppy that morning – sad and scared. And while he had a better understanding of it since she’d told him about the death of her father, he’d never been able to walk away from something that was hurting. It was one of the myriad reasons he’d become a vet.
And one of the reasons being stuck in a lab most of the time, dealing with data instead of living creatures, didn’t suit you.
Sutton acknowledged that, as well as the fact that Adeline was a fully-grown woman, and not an abandoned or wounded animal. He’d done what he could, first in helping her out that morning and then in returning the hat and assisting with the stove. He’d even offered to come by and chop more kindling should she need it, given that her shoulder seemed to be worse than she initially let on. She had his card – which was precise and efficient and not boring – and his number. Anything more on his part would be presumptuous.
“Screw it.”
He pulled out onto the narrow, winding road – a route he hadn’t driven since high school, but that he knew like the back of his hand. Lake Rabun Road hugged the shoreline of its namesake, and where the view wasn’t obscured by rambling waterfront houses, it really couldn’t be beat. Especially at this time of year, when so many of the trees were bursting with color, and the deep green depths of the lake were mostly undisturbed by watercraft.
Mostly. Coming around one bend, he spotted a classic wooden Chris Craft, Old Glory waving from the rear. The bow split the water, causing deep ripples to fan out toward the rocky shore. Sutton smiled, as old memories began to surface.
His senior year, he’d dated a girl from Lakemont village, the collection of shops that served as the closest amenities for the homes and vacation rentals around the lake. Shannon’s family had operated a bait shop, and lived in the space above it. He’d made some of his best high school memories here, and some of his worst as well.
Slow Burn (Rabun County Book 1) Page 6