“Great.” She swallowed. “Glad we’re on the same page.”
Her car horn blasted, and she jerked.
“Harry’s getting impatient.” James scowled. “I know you think I wanted him gone so we’d have a place to screw, but that wasn’t it.” He caught her look and rolled his eyes. “That wasn’t all.” Resting his hands on her shoulders, he rubbed his thumbs back and forth on her collarbone. “Please think about what I said. You can’t go from having zero contact with the man to having him living at your house. You don’t know him. It isn’t safe.”
Sarah opened her mouth, but he cut her off. “Please. Just think about it. And think about it with your head, not your heart. Make that your goodbye gift to me.”
The horn blasted again, an unwelcome screech in the calm night air. She glanced at the man hidden in shadows in her passenger seat and nodded. She rolled up on her toes and kissed James’s jaw. His stubble tickled her lips and distracted her from the squeeze in her chest.
“Goodbye,” she said, and fled to her car.
Chapter Nineteen
Sarah rubbed the ear of the sleeping dog. Thankfully, Megatron would be okay. It was a clean break in the Great Dane’s hind leg and should heal nicely. After a last caress, she strode to the waiting room to tell the relieved owners their pup could go home tomorrow.
Then she pulled out her cell and called her brother.
“Hey, Sarah.” Joe’s voice had a strange tone to it, like when he’d run stakeouts on his siblings when they were kids and caught one sneaking back inside after curfew. “Something you want to tell me?”
She frowned. “Yes, that’s why I’m calling you.” Obviously. What was with all the men in her life annoying her? Not that James was in her life, last night had seen to that. “Someone hit a dog and drove off without stopping. It happened on Sequoia Street, by the school. Any chance you can find the bastard?”
Joe whistled. “The B-word. You must really be pissed.”
Sarah scowled, ignoring Melanie’s arched eyebrow. Yes, she wasn’t much for swearing, but someone who would hit a dog and drive away deserved being called something stronger than the B-word. “Can you do it?”
Joe sighed. “I’ll see if I can find any witnesses, or if any cameras picked something up, but chances aren’t great I’ll find him.”
Sarah nodded as her next appointment strolled into the lobby, her new kitten in her carrier. Her shoulders unclenched. “Thanks for trying,” she told her brother. “I appreciate it.”
“Of course.” He cleared his throat. “Now, was there anything else you wanted to tell me? Perhaps a story you wanted to change about you and the guy you took to dinner on Sunday being just friends?”
Sarah pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at it before putting it back. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about the video Ellie sent me of you and James making out like teenagers. Connor and Brad are already plotting how to take him out.”
Melanie grabbed her arm. “Are you okay? Your face just went white.”
Was she okay? It didn’t feel like it right now. She pressed a hand to her stomach. Someone had taped her and James. That was sick. “Send me the video,” Sarah croaked.
“Okay, but you can find them on the internet. Some Facebook group,” he muttered. “And Twitter and Instagr—”
“Just send what you have.” She ended the call and nudged Melanie away from her computer. “She wouldn’t do it. Not even a nut job like Kimberlee would take pictures and…” She blinked at the computer screen. She’d done it.
Melanie whistled. “Where is that? In the state park?”
“The bluff.” Sarah gripped the counter. Pictures of her and James in a passionate embrace on the ground were on the internet, captioned with phrases like Would you trust this person to save cats? and Too stupid to get a room, too stupid to help our wildlife.
“She made memes.” Melanie sounded much too excited about that. Her assistant pushed her out of the way and retook control of the computer. She clicked the link to Kimberlee’s Twitter account and scrolled through the images at rapid speed. “And gifs!”
Sarah dropped her chin to her chest. The image of James bent over, rear end up, rocking back and forth in a sped-up one second gif would be burned in her memory forever. Kimberlee had caught the moment when he’d fallen over on her when helping her pick up her papers. And it wasn’t pretty.
He had a great butt, no doubt, but this wasn’t an angle anyone would want plastered across the internet.
She had to call him. Tell him that because of her, he was the laughingstock of Twitter, or at least the pro-feral cat segment of Twitter.
Melanie laughed at one of the memes, and Sarah turned her back on her to make the call.
“Sarah?” James’s rich voice flowed through her like honey. “I didn’t expect to hear from you. Not that I’m not glad you called.”
She winced. “You won’t be when you know why I called. Um, remember that day we first kissed? Up on the bluffs?”
“One of my fondest memories,” he purred.
Not for long. “Well, the woman who wants my feral cat rescue to fail took pictures of us and posted them on the internet. I’m sorry.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s my fault you’re caught up in this. I never—”
“I meant, why would she do that? What purpose does it serve? And it’s not your fault.” The clicking of computer keys came through the line, and Sarah could picture James at his desk, in a shirt and tie, looking much too yummy for his own good.
Sarah craned her neck to look back at Melanie’s computer. She sighed. “To make me look foolish, to undermine my project. She’s asking why anyone would want to donate to someone like me.”
“That’s absurd,” James said. “Why would you having a sex life cause anyone… oh.”
Her phone buzzed with an incoming call. Harry. She ignored it. “I’m so sorry,” she repeated, wondering which images he was viewing. “This won’t affect your job, will it?”
“It’s not good. I’m a CPA. People have to trust me, and this makes me look like… Christ.” He blew out a breath. “On the positive side, I doubt anyone from work will see it, even with two hundred and thirteen, no, fourteen likes. Or that they’d recognize me from that angle.”
Her phone buzzed again. Connor. She frowned. “I’m going to call Kimberlee. Ask her to take the pictures down. No.” She pushed her shoulders back. “Demand she take them down. I’ll threaten a lawsuit.” She bit her lip. “That would work. Right?”
He chuckled. “As much as I like when you go all kick-ass on me, I don’t think a lawsuit is practical. We were in public. I should have restrained myself. I’m the one who’s sorry.”
“I was a willing participant,” she reminded him. “Very willing.”
James dropped his voice. “I don’t like the way we left things. I don’t like the idea of not seeing you.”
Sarah shuffled to the corner of the room. “Me either. But I don’t see any good solutions.”
“I don’t either. But does that mean we should stop looking?”
She stared at the wall. Shouldn’t they? And if they decided to try, wouldn’t he become just one more person she was terrified to lose?
She closed her eyes, picturing his smile, his smart-ass remarks. How she felt stronger, better when she was with him. He was like a drug. In just one day she was already feeling withdrawal symptoms.
“Dinner?” she asked. “Just us this time?”
“It’s a date.”
“Sarah!” Melanie waved her over, the office phone pressed to her ear. “It’s your brother.”
“Hold on,” she said to James. To Melanie, “Whichever one it is, tell him I’ll call him back.”
Melanie held the phone in her direction. “It’s Connor. And it’s important.
“Your house is on fire.”
Chapter Twenty
&nb
sp; “For a firefighter, our brother sure is a big baby when it comes to heights.” Ellie pulled a pitcher of lemonade out of Sarah’s refrigerator.
Joe trailed after her, wiping a splash of paint off his bare forearm. “Connor’s not scared of heights. He just doesn’t appreciate when you bump your ass into the ladder he’s standing on each time you bend over to put paint on your brush. Call him crazy.”
Sarah smiled, pulling glasses out of her cabinet and filling them with ice and lemonade. She always loved her family, but it was times like these she remembered just how lucky she was.
The fire had been small, contained to two walls of her living room and part of her ceiling. After Connor had made sure there was no structural damage, he and the rest of her family had jumped in with both feet, bringing paint and supplies the very next day. Not only had they repainted the living room, but they were now doing some much-needed touch-up on the exterior trim.
She really couldn’t imagine life without them. “You guys ready for a break out there? I can call the pizza order in now.”
“You getting Gino’s?” Joe asked.
“Of course.”
“Can you order—”
“Two extra larges, half sausage and pepperoni for you, half Hawaiian for Conner, and the other one, half combination deluxe for Brad and half Margherita for Ellie.” Sarah pulled her phone from the pocket of her coveralls and found the pre-programmed number. “It’s like you think I don’t know you guys.”
Ellie tossed an arm over her shoulder. “And you’ll just scavenge our leftovers, like always. We know you, too.”
Ducking under her sister’s arm, Sarah frowned. She did usually eat their leftovers. It didn’t make sense to waste food, even though leftover pizza in her family would never truly be wasted. But she was the only Martineau with no pizza order of her own. Always had been.
Something about that struck her as sad. She could just about hear James’s derisive snort.
“Gino’s Pizzeria. How can I help you?”
Sarah placed the order for her siblings. “And a small pepperoni with green peppers and onions for me.” She gave the kid her delivery address and ended the call.
Joe raised an eyebrow.
“I can have my own pizza, too.” She couldn’t imagine not being the peacekeeper in her family, but…did that mean she couldn’t express her own wishes, too? Stand up for herself a little bit more? Such a small step like getting her own pizza shouldn’t make her feel so victorious.
But it did.
Her brother smiled. “No arguments here.” Making a triangle of three glasses of lemonade, he picked the formation up. “I’m going to take these outside to the guys. We’ve just about finished the second side of your house.”
She and Ellie trailed him out into the bright sunlight, holding their own glasses. She examined their work as Clementine rubbed against her ankle. The trim looked good. Even their dad would approve, and he was a stickler for straight lines and even coverage.
She squinted. Small dabs of paint clung to the underside of her overhang. Well, he’d almost give his full approval. Maybe it was a good thing her dad had a course to teach at the Merchant Marine Academy today.
“So, what do you think?” Conner swept his hand toward their work, lemonade slopping over the side of his glass.
“It looks great. I can’t thank you guys enough.” Her gaze went to the overhang. “I give you a B+ for effort.”
“What?” the twins objected.
Joe narrowed his eyes. “I’ve never earned a B in my life.”
That didn’t surprise Sarah. Joe had always been the best student in their family. It had raised more than a few eyebrows when he’d attended Cal State Chico instead of one of the ivy league colleges he’d been accepted to. “I said B+,” she reminded him. “And that might be generous by dad’s standards.” She nodded to the errant paint flecks.
“Don’t worry about those smears.” Brad punched Conner’s shoulder. “This one has been taken off trim work. I swear it’s like he has Tourette’s Syndrome. Anytime he gets near a corner or edge, his hand jerks. He can’t paint in a straight line to save his life.”
“Hey, I’m the Jackson Pollock of house painting. It’s art.” Conner shook his head sadly, like his siblings were too uninspired to see his greatness.
“Those marks will be easy enough to touch-up,” Sarah said. Walking over to Conner, she gingerly pulled the paint brush out of his hand. “But, why don’t we let Ellie do the rest of the ladder work. You can do the bottom half of the next two walls.”
Her sister snorted. “Besides, I’m not scared to climb to the top of the ladder.”
“I’m a firefighter.” Conner growled. “I’m not—”
“Pizza should be here soon.” Joe picked up a roll of plastic wrap lying on the ground near the paint cans. He tore off a rectangle and wrapped it around a paint brush. “Why don’t we clean up a bit?”
Brad nodded and knelt to hammer in the lid to a paint can. When he stood, his left leg buckled and he stumbled into the house. He braced a palm on the wall, his shoulders bunching.
Sarah took a step toward him, but Joe stopped her with a hand on her arm. He shook his head. They watched as Brad carried the paint into the shaded entryway of her house with a dark face.
Sarah shared a look with her sister and the twins. Each of them wanted to help their brother. Each of them knew they’d get their heads ripped off if they tried.
“Hey, gimpy,” Connor said. “You missed a can.” He pointed at the remaining paint.
Some of them knew this better than others.
They all glared at Connor.
He shrugged. “What? Besides, he’s just grumpy from lack of sleep. Dad’s been up early and late working on his new car.” His lips twitched.
“Yeah, thanks for that, assholes,” Brad said. “Maybe you should have thought a bit more before getting him that gift.”
Connor’s smirk turned into a full-blown grin. “Oh, we gave it lots of thought.”
Sarah smacked Connor’s shoulder. “Stop poking the bear.” She stalked past him to stand next to Brad. She opened her mouth to say something, try to ease the tension, and he turned his back and stomped inside.
She swallowed, hating to see him hurting.
Joe dropped his arm over her shoulders as they followed Brad into the house. “Don’t worry so much,” he murmured. “It will work out.”
She wished she could believe him.
They all crowded into her kitchen, taking turns washing up and setting the table while waiting for the pizza. Brad wiped his hands dry on a dishtowel and folded it over the edge of the sink. “Where’d Harry slink off to? Couldn’t be bothered to help out, huh?”
“Harry has a bad back.” Or he said he did. She’d never seen any evidence of it. And the fact that it was his cigarette that had started the fire, lighting one of her curtains, made his absence doubly irritating. But it was probably for the best. It would have been awkward with both him and Brad here. Besides, maybe his back really was hurting. “You can’t expect a man that age to go around painting houses.”
“Dad’s that age.” Brad gave her a hard stare. “Isn’t he coming over tomorrow to help?”
“I told Dad he didn’t have to help me hang curtains.” Rubbing at a spot on her table, she avoided his gaze.
“That’s not my point.”
Ellie cocked a hip against the counter. “Ease up, Brad. Just because you don’t want a relationship with Harry doesn’t mean Sarah doesn’t have the right to one.” She met Brad’s glower with an even scarier scowl.
Knowing her baby sister could get riled up faster than a honey badger, Sarah hurried to add, “I probably won’t need Dad tomorrow. Depends on how much we get done today.”
“Well, I can’t stay later than five,” Ellie said. “I’m going to La Casita with some friends and need time to get cleaned up.” She bobbed her head at Sarah. “You should come. It’s two-fo
r-one taco night.”
“Two-for-one is a good deal.” Joe crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s even better when your big sister pays for you.”
Ellie rolled her eyes. “That’s not the only reason I want her to come. She also makes an excellent designated driver.”
“Generous as that invitation is,” Sarah said, “I can’t. My nonprofit paperwork came back from the state and I want to set up my website to take donations.”
This was it. She was official. Having her cat rescue finally become a reality wasn’t quite as thrilling as she’d thought it would be, however. She blamed Kimberlee. Instead of reveling in the knowledge that the cats of Shelter Bay would finally get the care they needed, she was worried about pics of her coming out of the shower showing up on the internet.
But she’d decided to ignore the woman and her antics and push ahead. “And I told James I’d pop over to his house so he could make sure everything was filed properly on the forms.”
“Or you could invite him here.” Ellie gave her a sly smile. “Your house is empty for the weekend. James could help you go over the documents. All. Night. Long.”
Her brothers groaned while Sarah’s heart thumped. Damn, she wanted that. She hadn’t thought there would be an upside to her house catching fire, but a space for her and James qualified as a definite upside.
If she wanted to dive deeper into whatever it was they had going on. She’d always been more apt to stick her toes in first to test the waters, then wade in slowly.
There wasn’t time for wading with James. It seemed a little silly now, depriving the both of them of time together just because she was worried about getting hurt. She was hurting now.
“Are you paying him for this help?” Connor asked. “He’s a CPA, right? He does that kind of thing for a living?”
“No, yes, and yes.” Sarah hooked her thumb in her back pocket, fingering the top of her phone. She had a house free of Harry. Should she call James and invite him over? “He works for Carson Long and Associates and he’s being nice, helping me out for free. He’s spent a lot of time pulling the documents together.”
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