“Hey!” said one of the other guys, the one with the deep black hair. “What about us?”
“Shut up, Coin.” Tox squatted so he could reach into the wagon.
“No! You can all have as much as you want. Help yourself.” Grace had never felt more awkward in her life, hosting an impromptu dessert party in the middle of Tox’s driveway.
Uninvited.
Unwanted.
She thought—again—about what she wanted to show Tox. That she didn’t need to fix everything. As Tox put five scoops of ice cream, all different flavors, in his bowl, she realized this wasn’t the way. This was just her trying to fix everything again.
Grace wanted to run.
Instead, she bent at the waist and kept adding flavors so that her number of scoops matched his. Six, then seven. Then she made sure her bowl held the same river of chocolate sauce, the same mighty peaks of whipped cream.
They stood straight. The sheer weight of ice cream in her bowl was making her arms heavy. She’d never be able to eat all this. Ever.
Coin reached between them for a bowl. “Lexie, what do you want?”
Lexie had been staring raptly as Tox and Grace battled for the maraschino cherries. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll get some in a bit.”
“No, let me. Chocolate and vanilla, right?”
Lexie looked surprised. Grace wondered for the first time if Lexie had ever thought about having a romance at work. She’d have to ask her that the next time she saw her.
Now, though, it was time to eat.
Grace followed Tox onto the grass. They sat, cross-legged. Methyl leaned against Tox and tried to take licks out of his bowl. Sunset had settled now, and street lights were popping on with audible snaps. The sky to the west was still dark violet, and the air was heavy and damp with salt.
Grace normally loved this time of night.
It was too bad she was about to pass out from nerves. And from annoyance at Samantha still laughing in the middle of the driveway. Hank stood next to her sister, a wide grin on his face.
“Glad we have an audience,” said Grace around the first spoonful.
“Can’t take the pressure?” Tox had already polished off what must have been a whole scoop.
“Oh, I can.” Grace took another bite, ignoring the brain-freeze. “I’m just concerned about you.”
Tox’s spoon slowed.
Deep green eyes met hers in the dim light. They said so much, in a language Grace was afraid she didn’t speak well enough. Her breath caught.
Tox said quietly, only for her ears, “What are you trying to prove?”
Grace ate two more bites before she said, “That I don’t have to fix you.”
“You’re saying I can eat ice cream whenever I want.”
Grace felt despair flood through her like ice water. “It’s dumb. It’s so stupid. I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
Tox’s eyes got even darker. “I like it.”
“You do?”
“It’s just that this can’t work.”
Grace’s head dropped. “I know.” She couldn’t prove herself with cream and sugar.
“I’ll never be the person you need me to be.”
Her head lifted. “What?”
“I hurt people.”
Dropping the bowl on the grass, heedless of the chocolate sauce soaking into his lawn, Grace pushed herself forward so that they sat, knee to knee. “You hurt my feelings, that’s all.”
“I’m sorry. Self-fulfilling prophecy, maybe. Damn it.”
“But look at me. Still alive.”
“It’s all I’ve ever done. The Angel of Death. I bring destruction wherever I go, and I’m not doing that to you, too.”
“No, no.” She touched his forearm lightly. He tensed under her hand, as if she’d hit him. “You have that all wrong.”
“You obviously haven’t been paying attention, then. Did you know I don’t even have a job right now?” He set his bowl on the grass and leaned backward, looking up through the acacia branches. “Not really. I’m on leave. If my back doesn’t get right, I’m out for good. I’ve failed at the only thing worth doing. And I’ve failed the only woman worth…”
Grace held her breath. He had to finish the sentence. He had to.
But he said nothing more. She watched the pulse under his chin where the dark stubble was thick.
Behind her, Samantha had finally stopped laughing, her hiccups fading away to nothing. Grace heard a muffled whisper and then shuffling. Then the garage closed with an old motor’s whine.
They were alone on the grass, under the stars. Grace looked up, too, and saw one wink at her. Methyl licked her hand. The lick and the wink were the signs she needed.
They didn’t help with her nerves at all, though. Her voice shook. “What woman? How did you fail her?”
Tox brought his gaze back to hers. “You know exactly what I mean.”
“You didn’t fail me.”
“I did. I do. Everyday.”
“You have your inhaler on you?”
“What? Yeah. Of course.” He scrabbled at his pocket. “Do you need it?”
“No. But you could save my life if I needed you to. But you know what?”
“What?” His voice was strained.
“I don’t need you to. I have a good life. And you do, too. Let me be near you.”
“What if I fail? I do that so often—I can’t fail you.”
Grace shrugged. “It’s love. You take your chances.”
“What about that matchbook of yours?”
“The one in my nicho?”
Tox touched her wrist lightly, as if he thought she might disappear. “Yeah. You were scared of being burned.”
“I thought that, yeah. But I just realized something.”
“What?”
Grace said carefully, “That’s where I keep my hopes.”
“Yeah?”
“Guess I was hoping for a firestarter.”
Tox made a sound somewhere between a choke and a laugh. “I have a can of lighter fluid on the back porch if you need help with that.”
Grace opened her mouth but nothing came out.
“And it’s Clement.”
“What?”
“My first name is Clement.”
Grace’s heart melted faster than the ice cream in the grass. They were so close now. If she leaned her head in, she could rest her forehead on his. He smelled of chocolate and something darker, something all him. “I like that.”
“You can call me that, then.” He drew away an inch. “But only you. No one else.”
“No one else,” said Grace.
Tox kissed her then. In the kiss she could feel everything he was too scared to say, all the things she knew he’d tell her that night, when they were really alone, naked in his bed. He would tell her he wanted her to be there in the morning, and the morning after that. She would agree. There were so many things she felt on his lips, tasted on his tongue. But the most important thing, he said out loud.
“I love you,” Tox said, his mouth on hers, his hand against her cheek. “Is that crazy? Because I do.”
“Yeah, it’s kind of crazy. And I love you, too.” Grace grinned. Then she added, “Clement.”
From inside the house, they heard Samantha’s giggle drift out the open window. At their side, Methyl licked at the ice cream in the grass.
And overhead, a star winked down on Darling Bay.
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Rachael Herron is the bestselling author of the novels The Ones Who Matter Most, Splinters of Light and Pack Up the Moon (all from Penguin), the
five-book Cypress Hollow series, and the memoir, A Life in Stitches. She received her MFA in writing from Mills College, Oakland. She teaches writing extension workshops at both UC Berkeley and Stanford and is a New Zealand citizen as well as an American. You can find her at RachaelHerron.com.
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KEEP READING FOR A SNEAK PEEK OF THE NEXT BOOK!
Don’t miss a minute in Darling Bay! One unforgettable town, three standalone series (read them in any order!). So many ways to fall in love!
THE FIREFIGHTERS OF DARLING BAY:
Playing with fire has never been this fun…
Blaze: Tox and Grace - Book 1
Burn: Coin and Lexie - Book 2
Flame: Hank and Samantha - Book 3
Heat: Caz and Bonnie - Book 4
Or get all four together on sale, HALF OFF! Save $5.97!
The Firefighters, Boxed Set
THE SONGBIRDS OF DARLING BAY:
Nashville meets the Gilmore Girls in this heartwarming new trilogy of estranged country-singing sisters seeking true love (and their way back to each other).
The Darling Songbirds, Book 1, March 2016
The Songbird’s Call, Book 2, September 2016
The Songbird’s Home, Book 3, March 2017
THE BALLARD BROTHERS OF DARLING BAY:
The Bachelor meets The Property Brothers: Love, property, and construction. What could possibly go wrong?
On the Market, Book 1, June 2016
Build it Strong, Book 2, October 2016
Rock the Boat, Book 3, January 2017
STANDALONE NOVELS:
Women and families finding their ways back to what really matters: each other:
The Ones Who Matter Most
Splinters of Light
Pack Up the Moon
CYPRESS HOLLOW ROMANCES 1-5:
Knit-lit with more heat than just wool could ever provide:
How to Knit a Love Song
How to Knit a Heart Back Home
Wishes & Stitches
Cora’s Heart
Fiona’s Flame
Eliza’s Home (Historical Novella)
MEMOIR:
Rachael’s life as seen through the sweaters she’s knitted:
A Life in Stitches
Keep reading for a Sneak Peek!
of the second book in the Firefighters of Darling Bay series, Burn:
BURN:
CHAPTER ONE
The guy just wasn’t getting it.
Lexie sighed and stepped on the pedal so her voice would carry to the firefighter who was on her last nerve. “2219 Ivy. Repeating. Two two one nine. Do you copy?”
Coin Keefe’s voice filled her headset. “Copy two two one nine. There’s still no one answering the door, and there’s no key where you reported. Can you call back?”
“Affirm.” Lexie knew she sounded short, but good grief, the call was for an eighty-two-year old woman who had fallen in her bathroom. She’d told him that. What, did Coin expect that the patient would get up and go unlock the door because they couldn’t find the key under the pink flamingo? Coin probably just wanted her to say pink flamingo on the radio again. Firefighters always got a kick out of the dumbest things.
Okay, maybe everyone at the fire department did. Last week she’d gotten to say that a person had slipped on a banana peel. In nine years of working dispatch, she’d never heard of that happening in real life. All the guys who tromped through dispatch to see if she’d really said what they thought they’d heard hadn’t heard of it, either. No one slipped and fell on a banana peel unless there was a laugh track attached. The victim, thankfully, was mostly unharmed.
The woman’s voice was weaker on the phone now. “Hello?”
“I’m still here, ma’am. We’re trying to get in to help you, but the key’s been removed from your hiding place.”
“Oh, no. I remember now. My nephew borrowed the key the last time he came over. Oh, dear.”
“Is there another way in?”
“Around the back, the sliding glass door should be unlocked.”
It wasn’t surprising. In Darling Bay, most people left their back doors unlocked, if not their front ones as well. Officially, Lexie disapproved of this, if asked for her dispatcher opinion. Of course it wasn’t safe. Crime happened, even in their small coastal town. But heck, it sure made the fire department’s job easier.
Depressing the foot pedal so the firefighters—but not the patient—could hear her, she said, “Engine One, the back slider should be open.”
“Copy.”
“Ma’am,” Lexie said to the woman, “I’m just going to keep you on the phone until they get in there, okay? I want to make sure you’re all right.”
“Honey, I told you, I’m not hurt. I just can’t move.”
A lot of elderly people thought this, until they tried to stand. Lexie hated that she took so many broken hip calls. Once the first hip went, many people lost their mobility, then their strength and their resistance to infection . . . “I know, but just stay on the line with me a little longer, do you mind doing that for me?”
“Just one strong young man should do it.”
Lexie smiled. “Okay.”
“Or two. I’m not a little person anymore. Two strong young men should do the trick to get me back on my feet.”
“I understand. I’m not that little, either.”
“Nothing wrong with that, honey. Can you just make sure you’re sending me the good ones?”
“The good men?”
“I mean the handsome ones. I don’t want the old ones. Oh, and I want men. Strong young men.”
“I picked up on that.”
“Do you even have any women working there?”
What an embarrassing question to be asked on a recorded line. “We do. We have three.” In the whole department, consisting of almost seventy firefighters, only three were women. Women belonged in dispatch, and always had. Not on the fire line. Or at least that’s the way the fire department in Darling Bay worked. It was a thing. Lexie hated it, but it was a thing.
“I don’t want any women. Waste of time when I need help.”
“They’re very strong women,” said Lexie.
“I’m sure they are. But they’re not what I want. Once I called 911 and all I got was a huge man who looked as if he drank too much and a couple of whippersnappers who seemed scared of me. You best not be sending me that group again.”
Lexie was having a hard time not laughing out loud now. That must have been Murphy’s crew. He’d captained Engine One before retiring a few years back, and he’d been the training captain so he always had the new guys with him. Murphy had liked his whiskey on his nights off. And his beer, and his ouzo, and his bourbon …
“No, I made sure the handsome ones are coming, ma’am.” It was true, actually. Tox was a big guy who struck women dumb as he walked past them while wearing his dark blue uniform. Lexie had seen it happen at Mabel’s Cafe too many times to count. Coin, with his dark black hair and quiet confidence, was classically good-looking, Lexie supposed. Maybe almost movie-star good-looking. Reporters always liked to snap his picture, his face coated with soot, after fires. And Hank carried his height well and had a very sweet smile.
“Oh, good. Just the handsome strong young men. That’s all I want.” She made a content humming noise in Lexie’s ear. Well, at least she wasn’t the panicked type.
“They should be with you any minute. Do you hear them in the backyard yet?”
“I don’t hear a thing, dearie. I can barely hear you.”
Lexie pressed the foot-pedal. “Engine One, patient’s still awaiting contact.” That should get them to move a little faster.
There was a pause and the
n, over the radio, came a startled yip. Then Coin’s voice, shouting. “Darling Fire, we’re inside the residence. Get her to call off her dog!”
“Ma’am,” said Lexie quickly. “Call your dog.”
“What? I can’t quite hear you.”
Coin keyed up on the radio again but barking was the only thing that came across. Wild, frantic, angry barking.
“It’s really important,” said Lexie loudly, “that you call off your dog.”
“But I don’t have a dog,” wailed the woman. “Where are the strong young men?”
With a stomp, Lexie said on the radio, “Engine One, you’re in the wrong house. Patient has no dog.”
Tox came up on the radio, roaring over the barking, “Two two one nine?”
“Affirm,” said Lexie crisply. “Ivy. Confirm you’re on Ivy?”
A long pause.
Then Coin’s voice came across the radio. “Darling Fire, we’re on Oak. We copy Ivy. Switching locations.”
Lexie flicked her mute switch so the woman wouldn’t hear her sigh. Then she said, “Ma’am, those strong young men are almost with you. They’re right around the corner, I promise.”
CHAPTER TWO
Of course it had to be Lexie on the radio. Coin thumped the side of the driver’s door of the engine with his fist after parking in the bay at Station One. It would have to be her, when he was busy screwing up. Looking back on his almost ten year career, almost every time he’d messed up on a call, she’d been on shift to listen to him being a dumb-ass. That made sense—they’d always been on A shift together, and the dispatchers had the same 48-hour schedule as the firefighters did. Two days on, four days off. Not too shabby.
And that’s why Lexie had heard him screw up. Again.
In the day room, he heard a chorus of laughter.
“Woof!” hollered Luke. “Grrrr.”
Guy Mazanti threw a stuffed dog at him.
Blaze (The Firefighters of Darling Bay Book 1) Page 14