by Lisa Childs
“It’s not safe for you to walk alone this close to night,” he told her.
She pointed at the overgrown puppy. “I’m not alone. And I know these woods like the back of my hand.” She moved sure-footedly over the branches littering the path that wound between trees. “Courtney and I used to play hide-and-seek in them, and flashlight tag.”
Most of the foster homes he’d lived in had been in the city, where they’d had to play in the street. That was part of why he’d joined the US Forest Service—for the nature. “It must have been fun growing up here,” he said.
“I thought so,” she said. “Courtney was bored. She would have rather hung out at the mall.”
“There’s no mall in Northern Lakes.”
She uttered a rueful chuckle. “Exactly. But she was all about fashion and shopping…”
“And you?” he asked, wondering what she’d been like as a child. “What were you about?”
“Learning how to make tea ring like my grandmother.”
“Tea ring?”
“The cinnamon-roll thing.”
He groaned as he remembered the decadent treat she’d served for brunch. “Tea ring.”
“It took years for me to get it right and probably years of patience off her life, standing at the counter with me kneading the dough.” She smiled as if the memory touched her.
He had no such sentimental memories. He glanced back at the house behind them. Its windows aglow with lights, it radiated warmth. Like she did…
She slipped her hand into his, and he stared down at their entwined fingers. “This is a bad idea.”
Her lips pulled into a slight frown as she acknowledged, “I know.”
“Then why?”
“I keep thinking about that accident, about how you could have been hurt so much worse.”
He needed to tell her the truth—that it had been no accident. But he didn’t want anyone else to overhear him, especially the arsonist. And he didn’t know who might be in the woods besides them.
Annie’s head was up, her floppy ears almost perked as if she heard something. Then she scampered off ahead of them.
If the arsonist was out there, he was about to be assaulted—by a hundred-plus pounds of affectionate puppy. The dog, her tail wagging, disappeared down the trail.
“So much for walking her,” Cody murmured. He stopped in order to turn back.
But Serena tightened her grasp on his hand and tugged him forward. “It’s just a little farther,” she said.
“What is?”
“The lake.”
“There’s a lake on your property?”
“This is Northern Lakes. There’s a lake on pretty much everyone’s property.”
“How much land do you own?” he wondered aloud.
“Thirty acres,” she said. But her mouth turned down at the corners with a worried frown. She must have been thinking that she might not own it much longer—thanks to her sister.
As a vice tightened around his heart with concern for her, he offered her hand a reassuring squeeze. He could give her more than that, though. He could give her a distraction from her worries for the moment.
“So you’re dragging me off into the woods to have your way with me?” he teased.
Her lips curved upward again. “Like I’d have to drag you off into the woods to do that.”
“No,” he admitted. “No, you wouldn’t.”
The trees parted at a clearing. And in the middle of the clearing was an expanse of water, the surface rippling and glistening as the sun began to set upon it. Although on their side of the lake the trees were lush and leafy, on the other side they were blackened trunks devoid of all branches.
His breath escaped in a gasp. “The fire came that close?”
She shuddered and nodded. “Yes. If not for the lake…”
It might have taken the house. She could have lost it even before her sister’s vindictive lawsuit.
Then she looked up at him. “The lake and you—the Hotshots—stopped it.”
For now. But he suspected there would be more fires until they caught the arsonist. He forced a grin. “So how are you going to pay me back? More tea ring?”
She shook her head, her long hair swaying around her body. Then she reached for the bottom of her tank top and peeled it off. It dropped to the ground—followed by her shorts. She stood before him wearing another matching set of lace bra and panties. For such a serious, no-nonsense woman, she liked her sexy underwear, and so did he.
He liked it so much that he couldn’t think of anything but getting her out of it. But before he could reach for her, she was reaching for him. She pulled his belt free and tugged down his zipper. His cock—already pulsating with desire for her—sprang free through the fly.
Her fingertips skimmed the tip of it, and he groaned. He wanted her too much to think about anything but having her. So he pulled his shirt over his head and kicked off his pants until he stood before her entirely naked.
But he didn’t feel naked—really naked—until she looked at him that way she always looked at him. How could she see him when no one else ever had?
She dropped to her knees in front of him. Then she closed her hands around him, moving them up and down the length of his cock. As she stroked, she closed her lips around the tip and sucked.
“Serena!” her name tore from his throat as he struggled for control. He had never known a more generous or caring woman.
He clutched her hair—her long, silky hair. Then he tried to pull her to her feet. But she kept driving him crazy with her mouth and hands. Tension filled him, tearing at him. His tenuous grip on her—and on his control—broke. And he shouted her name again as he came.
She stared up at him, her dark eyes bright with passion, as she licked him from her lips. And even though he’d just had a powerful release, need overwhelmed him. He really had never wanted anyone so much that it was almost like a madness.
Was this the arsonist’s issue? Was he obsessed with fire the way that Cody was beginning to believe he was obsessed with Serena?
*
SERENA WATCHED AS Cody’s green eyes dilated, turning as dark as hers with desire. He stared at her so intently—so deeply. There was something more in his gaze than attraction, something that had his brow furrowing almost as if he were confused or troubled.
“What?” she asked, wondering about that look. “What’s wrong?”
He shook his head, like he couldn’t find the words. “You,” he murmured.
It wasn’t a compliment, but somehow the way he said it made it sound like one. She smiled. But when he reached for her, she stepped back.
“Serena…” He moved closer.
She turned and leaped into the water. It was too warm to cool her passion for him, which only burned hotter when she heard the splash. But she turned and saw only the wide ripples spreading across the surface of the water.
Where had he gone?
Fingers wrapped around her ankle. And she squealed—just before he tugged her under. Submerged, she blinked and focused on him; gloriously naked, his muscles rippling like the water, he looked like a merman. Some mythical creature sent to lure her to her doom.
But then he released her and she shot to the surface again. She sucked in a breath. And he joined her, tossing back his wet hair. His arms wrapped around her as he kicked his legs, keeping them both afloat. His wet skin pressed against hers.
Then he lowered his head and nipped gently at her bottom lip, catching and holding it between his teeth. His tongue lapped across the fullness, soothing it.
But she wasn’t soothed. She was even more aroused, her body burning up with passion. She wanted him so much. She needed him—needed the release he could give her. She linked her arms around his wide shoulders and clung to him.
He moved his mouth from hers, down her throat. As he nibbled on her neck, his hands moved beneath the water. He pushed down the cups of her wet bra. He teased her nipples, rolling them between his fingertips.
She was surprised steam didn’t rise from the water as heat flooded her. A moan burned in her throat. One of his hands trailed down her body. Pushing aside her panties he touched her intimately, his fingers moving in and out while his thumb teased her clit.
It wasn’t enough; it was too much. The pressure in her body wound tighter—threatening to break her. “Cody…”
She needed more. Then he rocked the pad of his thumb back and forth against her, and she came, screaming his name.
But he wasn’t done with her—wasn’t done making love to her. He lifted and carried her from the water to the shore where they’d left their clothes. He lowered her down so that she knelt on the mound of garments. And he moved his hand between her legs, driving her into a frenzy again.
She heard foil tear—heard his grunt as he sheathed himself first in latex and then inside her. He thrust deeper, holding her hips against his. His hands moved over her body, cupping her breasts, stroking her clit.
She’d never been loved so thoroughly—so passionately. He nipped at her shoulder then moved his mouth over her cheek until his lips covered hers. She turned and kissed him back. Then she arched to meet his thrusts.
And she came again. Moments later his body shuddered and a guttural cry tore from his throat as he joined her in release. They both fell silent after that, saying nothing to each other as they cleaned up and dressed.
Was he as overwhelmed as she was? Or was he just tired? They linked hands again as they walked back—the lights of the house beckoning to them through the dark woods. When they neared the porch, the screen door pushed open and Annie greeted them. She’d found her way home again—as she always did.
Cody shut both doors and turned the lock. Serena shivered, maybe because her underwear was wet against her skin. Or maybe because of the way Cody had looked when he’d turned that lock, almost as if he thought there was something dangerous outside. Or someone… Was that why he followed her up to the attic?
To protect her? If he really wanted to do that, he would leave her alone so that she didn’t get any more attached to him than she already was. Her voice husky, she asked, “How did your interview go?”
Did he get the job? Would he be leaving Northern Lakes soon?
Her question brought a strange look to his handsome face. It was so intense that it was almost frightening. He looked like he had after the accident—angry.
“It didn’t go well?” she asked. But how could it have gone well after he’d been in an accident? She touched his head; the fresh wound had already scabbed over. “You should have let me take you to the hospital instead of the airport.”
“I didn’t want to miss the interview.”
“I think he would have understood,” she said. “Given that you’d just been in an accident.”
“It wasn’t an accident,” he said.
“But you said your brakes had gone out…”
“It wasn’t an accident,” he repeated, “because someone cut my brake line. My mechanic confirmed it.”
“What are you saying?” she asked. “That someone deliberately tried to hurt you?”
He nodded. “Maybe even kill me.”
She shuddered as fear overwhelmed her. She had considered it just moments ago, but that had been just a fleeting consideration because of the coincidences. But she couldn’t believe it. Not really.
Things like this didn’t happen in Northern Lakes. Nothing dangerous ever happened here—at least until the arsonist had started setting fires.
“Do you think it’s him?” she asked. “Do you think the arsonist cut your brake line?”
He nodded. “And maybe tampered with the tub.”
“It was so slick…like something had been rubbed over the porcelain,” she agreed. “And I washed it earlier that day. It hadn’t been like that then.”
Then she realized what that meant. “He was here?” she said, and the fear cracked her voice. “He was in my driveway?” And worse yet. “He was in my house?”
She trembled with fear—with the thought of what could have happened to him or Stanley or Mrs. Gulliver or Mr. Stehouwer or Mr. Tremont.
Cody’s arms wrapped around her, stilling her trembling. “It’s my fault,” he said.
She shook her head. He wasn’t the one who’d set the fires. He was the one who’d put them out.
“He’s after me,” Cody said.
Maybe Cody was too close to catching him. But if Cody didn’t stop him…
The arsonist might stop Cody. He could have killed him already—nearly had twice. She tensed as fear overwhelmed her.
“Do you want me to leave?” he asked.
“Leave?” she repeated. She wanted him to stay with her and keep her safe. “Why?”
“Because my presence here is putting you in danger.”
She hadn’t thought about that; she hadn’t thought about herself. She could think only about him. About losing him…forever.
14
SHE HADN’T SAID ANYTHING. But her body was stiff in his arms. So Cody asked again, “Do you want me to leave?”
But then he didn’t wait for her response. He’d learned too well that it was better to anticipate rejection, then it didn’t hurt as bad.
“Of course you do,” he said. “And I should.”
She shook her head. “No…” But her voice sounded tremulous—uncertain.
“It may not be an issue anyway,” he said. “My interview for that jumper position went well. Really well.” Which was a lie. He had been distracted—thinking about her, worrying about her. He couldn’t even remember what questions Mack had asked him, let alone how he’d answered them. “If I get that job, I won’t be stationed out of Northern Lakes anymore.”
“You said that.” She was still tense—even after their mind-blowing sex.
But he was tense, too. He wanted her again, but even though he held her in his arms, she felt distant from him. Maybe she was anticipating the rejection, too?
“It’s based in Washington?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“You can’t get much farther away than that…”
“No.” But would that stop the arsonist? Or would he only turn his sick attention to someone else? And would that be another Hotshot? Or someone else like Serena? Cody didn’t know. If he believed—really believed—that the arsonist would leave Northern Lakes alone if he left, he would go immediately, whether he had a job or not.
“What about Stanley?” she asked. “What about Annie?”
A twinge of regret struck his heart. He didn’t want to leave the kid. But Stanley had enrolled in the community college close enough to Northern Lakes that he could stay at the boardinghouse with Serena. She would keep an eye on him; she would take care of him like she did everyone else. She would take better care of him than Cody could.
Forcing himself to sound callous, he replied, “They’re not my responsibility.”
“No, they’re not,” she readily agreed—too readily. She peered up at him in that way that felt as if she was looking right through him. Then she asked, “So why have you taken responsibility for them?”
His blood chilled and it wasn’t because of their damp clothes. “I haven’t.”
“You’ve been paying more than half of Stanley’s rent,” she reminded him. “And you haven’t taken Annie back to the humane society.”
“They’d put her down. Nobody else would want her.”
“You do?”
“No,” he said. “But you don’t seem to mind her.” Just like she didn’t seem to mind him and Stanley being around either.
“Annie’s a sweet dog,” she murmured.
So sweet that she hadn’t let out so much as a bark when someone must have been outside tampering with his truck the other night.
“She’s not a good watchdog,” he pointed out.
Serena sighed. “No. But I wouldn’t want a dangerous dog around my boarders.”
Her boarders…
He needed to che
ck on them all again. Sure, Mrs. Gulliver and Mr. Stehouwer were too elderly to have climbed the stairs and tampered with his shower. But what about the other boarder? The one who shared the second floor with him and Stanley? The one who was never around.
Cody intended to check him out. Thoroughly.
“What about your boarders?” he asked. “Do you make sure none of them are dangerous before they move in?”
She stiffened again. “Of course I check them out. I do criminal background and credit checks.”
“You didn’t on me.”
“I did when you told me you’d be paying Stanley’s rent,” she reminded him. “You filled out the application. I checked out both of you.”
“So you wouldn’t let anyone with a criminal record move in?”
She shook her head. “You’re wondering about Mr. Tremont.”
“Yes.”
“He’s a vet,” she said.
“Veterinarian?” He had never showed any interest in Annie on the couple of occasions that Cody had run into the gray-haired man.
“Veteran,” she corrected. “He was a Marine. I think that might be why he keeps to himself.”
Cody nodded and felt a flash of guilt for suspecting the man. He’d already concluded that anyone could have let himself into her unlocked house.
“You need to be more careful,” he said.
“I already told you that I do the background checks before anyone moves in.”
“You need to lock your doors,” he said. “You need to make sure that strangers can’t walk into your house.”
She sighed. “That may not be an issue much longer.”
His heart contracted to hear the sadness and frustration in her voice. “You haven’t figured out a way to keep the house?”
“No.”
“Have you tried reasoning with your sister?”
She emitted a bitter laugh. “Reason with her?” she asked. “We can barely speak to each other.”
He didn’t have family. But if grudges and lawsuits were any indication of how family treated each other, he might not have missed much.
“I’m sorry,” he said. For so much…
“I thought you didn’t understand why the house means so much to me.”