by Lisa Childs
She had to give it to him now. So he would remember she worked for the station, too, that she was the special features reporter. She had worked on Dawson’s story all afternoon. She carried the note over to the dining table where she’d left her laptop. Before she reached for the computer, she flipped the note open.
This one was even shorter than the last:
Miss Kincaid,
You’re going to regret it if you don’t share the truth with the public.
She shivered at the ominous message. Was he threatening her personally? Or the public in general?
He had called the Hotshots cowards. But who was the real coward? If he wanted her to tell his story, he needed to share more of it with her. But she was beginning to suspect he didn’t have a story to tell—not a true one, anyway. Her sister thought the campers had started the fire, and that seemed more likely than an arsonist in Northern Lakes. And if it had been an arson, surely the Hotshots would have let the public know. They were heroes, after all. So maybe they were keeping the cause quiet in order to protect the campers who’d already been through too much.
At least Avery wouldn’t leave Northern Lakes empty-handed. Clicking a button on the computer, she began to roll the footage she’d taped at the local television station—local as in a couple of hours away from Northern Lakes. Northern Lakes was too small to have their own television station. The footage was mostly her talking, sharing the story of Dawson’s heroism and the reason he’d become a Hotshot in the first place.
Her heart swelled with pride in the man that he was—the man she’d begun to fall for. He deserved to be acknowledged for what he’d done, for who he was.
She had some editing to do, but not much, before she sent the file off to the newsroom producer. She wasn’t sure when or if he’d run it. If he ran it, how angry would Dawson be?
Would he understand why she’d done it? That it hadn’t been to hurt him. She wasn’t doing it just to help her career. But she suspected that it would. There was something compelling about the piece—about the man—that would resonate with the public.
Knuckles brushed softly against her door. The knock was too light to be Dawson or even Kim. “Who is it?” she asked.
“Fiona O’Brien,” a female voice replied. “We met earlier tonight.”
“The bride,” Avery said as she opened the door.
“Not yet,” Fiona replied. “The fiancée.”
Avery narrowed her eyes in surprise. “Aren’t you sure you’ll make it to the altar?” They had seemed so in love. But then, what did Avery know about love?
The redhead’s face appeared even paler than it had in the tavern. “You never know when you’re marrying a Hotshot. The guy who died a few weeks ago,” Fiona said, “he had a fiancée.”
Avery stepped back. “I’m sorry. Please come in.”
“I thought you had company,” the redhead said. “I heard someone talking.” Her gaze went to the laptop sitting on the dining room table.
And Avery suspected that Fiona knew who’d been talking and even what had been said. The cottage was strictly for summer use—the walls weren’t insulated and the windows were single pane. If Fiona O’Brien had been standing outside the door for a while, she could have heard the entire special feature.
“Just me,” Avery replied. The engagement ring on Fiona’s finger made her part of the story now, so Avery hit the Play button.
On the computer monitor she sat in front of a green screen, so the production manager could put in whatever background he wanted. She spoke into the camera, “During this season we hear a lot about the wildfires raging in different parts of the country. But we hear less about the brave people who fight those fires—unless there’s a tragedy. Then we hear only the bad. We need to focus more on the living heroes…”
She was totally focused on one particular hero. But she mentioned Wyatt and had included footage of him from the fire. And she mentioned Cody Mallehan—she thought he, at least, would appreciate being included. When she’d gone through the footage from the fire, she’d found images of him and Dawson arriving with the campers. She’d interviewed her nephews, who had loved being included. They’d gushed about how Dawson had rescued them and calmed their fears.
When the recording ended, Fiona released a shaky breath. “That was thorough.” Tears glistened in her eyes as she turned away from the computer to look at Avery. “I didn’t realize how close you and Dawson are.”
“What do you mean?”
“The guys joke about how little Dawson says about himself. You seem to have gotten him to talk.”
Heat flushed Avery’s face. “I didn’t have any input from him at all.”
Fiona sucked in a breath. “He doesn’t know you’re doing this?”
“I told him that I was going to,” Avery said. But he had no idea what she’d found out.
“But how did you find out so much?”
“I’m an investigative reporter,” Avery explained. “It’s what I do.” And sometimes it could be almost as dangerous as fighting fires. So she’d try not to worry about Dawson. She knew how good he was at his job.
“You even talked to his mother,” Fiona said, as if she was appalled.
Avery had been, too. “She’s a piece of work. I can’t imagine disowning her son because of his career choice.”
Color rushed back into Fiona’s face. “I can,” she admitted. Then she hastened to add, “I wouldn’t disown him or stop talking to him. But when my brother applied to the Forest Service fire department, I was scared to death. I didn’t want him getting hurt.”
Avery had covered too many tragedies. “People can get hurt anywhere,” she said. The mall, the movies…bad things happened all the time.
“But for someone to purposely choose this profession…” Fiona shuddered.
And now Avery wondered if the other woman would actually make it to the altar.
“Someone purposely chooses this profession because they’re a good person,” she said defensively. Dawson had chosen the job to honor his stepfather, but also because he was a hero at heart. “And they want to protect other people.”
“It’s more than a job to them,” Fiona admitted. “It’s almost a calling.”
Avery nodded. “It makes them who they are. And if you love someone, you love every part of them.”
Fiona lifted her new diamond so that it twinkled in the light. And she smiled. “I know.” Then she turned toward Avery, and her smile widened. “You love him.”
She tensed. “Who?”
“Dawson,” Fiona said. “You love him.”
“No—no,” Avery stammered, and fear rushed over her again. She wasn’t concerned for his safety this time, though. She was concerned for hers. “Absolutely not.”
Fiona chuckled now. “You give yourself away in that special feature. You give away how much you care about him.”
“I respect him,” Avery said. “And I appreciate that he saved my nephews from the fire. And I want him to get the accolades he deserves.”
“You love him,” Fiona persisted. “And that’s why I think you should erase that.”
“What? You just said…” She couldn’t repeat it because it might sound as if she was agreeing with Fiona. There was no way she sounded like a woman in love with her subject. She was a reporter; she’d been trained to never reveal her personal opinion of any story. No. Fiona was newly engaged. She was just seeing everything through the eyes of love.
“He’ll hate it,” Fiona said. “He’ll hate being singled out. He’ll hate even more having his past brought up again.” She shook her head and red hair tumbled around her shoulders. “If you air that, you’ll destroy any chance of having a future with him.”
Avery snorted, albeit nervously. Would he be that furious? Surely he would understand. “We never had a chance of a future together.”
It would never work. He was stationed out of Northern Lakes and she was just in Chicago until she found a position in a bigger market. New York. Or
Los Angeles.
“Congratulations on your engagement and all,” Avery continued. “But I don’t want that for myself. No marriage. No kids.” She didn’t want to settle down so young the way her sister had. She didn’t want to be stuck in the town where she’d been born and raised.
“So maybe that’s why you want to do this,” Fiona mused. “To end it with him.”
Avery shook her head. “There’s nothing to end.”
“I thought that too—a couple of months ago,” Fiona said. “That it was just sex between me and Wyatt.” She flashed the diamond at Avery. “It’s not just sex.”
“Obviously not between you two,” Avery said. “But Dawson’s never going to give me a ring.” Not that she’d want one…
She was too busy. Too focused on her career. The last thing she wanted was a fiancé—or even worse, a husband. “No.”
If she ran the feature, he would never give her a ring. But she doubted he would have anyway. Once she returned to Chicago, it would be over between them. Maybe it would be easier to end it like this—quickly.
Fiona opened her mouth but before she could say anything else, her phone chirped. She pulled it from her purse to study the screen, and a smile curved her lips. “They’re fine. The fire’s out.”
“Another hot spot?” Avery asked.
“Nope, kitchen fire got a little out of control,” Fiona replied. “Not too much damage—beyond the cook’s bruised ego.”
So it hadn’t been a hot spot or arson. If there really was an arsonist in Northern Lakes, wouldn’t he have started more fires? No, the story wasn’t in the notes that had been shoved under her door. The story was Dawson Hess. That was why, when Fiona hurried off to meet her fiancé, Avery sent the video to her boss. She could have edited it more, but she hadn’t wanted to risk chickening out because of the redhead’s warning. Just how mad could Dawson get?
*
“I AM LOVING THIS,” Cody said as he joined Dawson in the gym.
Dawson usually enjoyed a good workout, but he’d been punishing his body. Last night when he’d resisted going over to Avery’s place, he’d denied his body the release it needed. Now he was lifting more weight, doing more reps than he probably should. He grunted and remarked, “You haven’t even started yet.”
“I’m not talking about working out,” he said. “I’m talking about never having to buy beer again.”
Despite the sweat dripping from his body, Dawson’s blood chilled. “What are you talking about?”
Cody turned the tablet he’d been holding and pressed a button. Avery’s beautiful face filled the small screen. Her eyes were luminous. Her lips so full and red and kissable. He loved the silky softness of them—loved how sweet her mouth tasted. Distracted by desire, it took him a moment to hear what she was saying.
Other images flashed across the screen. Footage from the fire. Twin boys telling about their fears and how he’d soothed them. Everybody in the damn video talked about him—about his life.
And she talked about his past. Something he’d never wanted dredged up again.
Betrayal hit him like a blow to the gut. She’d known how he felt about media attention, about reporters. And she’d ignored his wishes and run the story anyway.
“What the hell did she do?” But Cody wasn’t the one he needed to ask. He threw down his towel. He didn’t care how sweaty he was—he was going to skip the shower to confront her. If she hadn’t already left…
“Hey,” Zimmer said. “I need to see you in my office. Right now.” He was definitely the boss today.
Cody cast Dawson a sympathetic glance as he followed Braden from the weight room. His office door was open—another man was already inside. Wyatt Andrews glanced up from the chair in front of Braden’s desk and asked, “Did you deliberately seek me out?”
While Dawson didn’t talk that much, when he spoke it was always the truth. “Yes.”
Braden closed the door and settled into the chair behind his desk. The way both men stared at him now put Dawson on the defensive—because of her, because of what she’d done.
“It’s not stalkerish and weird,” he said. It was his damn mother and her endless bitterness. “For so many years I heard that my dad—stepdad—died for no reason. That it was such a waste.”
Wyatt sucked in a breath. “He died trying to save my parents.”
“Yeah. That was the kind of man Martin Spedoske was,” Dawson said, in defense of the man he’d loved. “He hadn’t cared that the risk was too great. He’d done everything within his power to save them—even giving up his own life.”
“So you wanted to make sure that they were worth it,” Wyatt said. “That I was worth his life.”
Emotion choking him, Dawson couldn’t speak. He could only nod. He couldn’t even look at Wyatt—who was obviously struggling with emotions of his own—right now.
Why had Avery done this? Did she hate him?
She’d not only laid his life bare for the world to see and judge, she’d cost him a friend and probably his job. He turned toward his boss.
“Martin Spedoske definitely didn’t die for nothing,” Braden said, his voice gruff. As Dawson had, he’d also taken offense at what Mrs. Spedoske had said. “He gave me my two best Hotshots. If he hadn’t died, I wouldn’t have either of you on this team.”
A pang struck Dawson’s heart. It was true that he wouldn’t have become a firefighter if his stepfather hadn’t been one first. Wyatt nodded in silent agreement.
“Is it going to be a problem?” Dawson asked. “That we stay on the team together?”
Zimmer shook his head. “It’s not a problem for me. We all have each other’s backs—no matter what. No matter why. It’s what we do.”
“What about you?” Dawson asked. Did Wyatt think he was a stalker?
Wyatt shook his head. “Not a problem for me, either.”
Dawson nodded. Then he opened the door to step back into the hall. He couldn’t go see Avery now. His emotions were too raw. He wanted her to see only the anger, not all the other feelings she’d brought out in him. He headed back to the weight room where Cody had begun to pump the barbell.
Wyatt followed him into the room.
He braced himself. Wyatt might have held himself back in front of their boss. Maybe he intended to let him have it now.
“Say what you need to,” Dawson invited him. He deserved whatever the other guy hurled at him. They’d worked together for years. He should have told Wyatt himself, before it came out like this. So publicly, thanks to Avery Kincaid.
How had she betrayed him like this? They’d made love. He’d begun to think they cared about each other. But she’d only been using him…
“Last night at the Filling Station,” Wyatt began, “I couldn’t ask you in front of Cody—”
“I’m right here,” the blond firefighter interrupted from the weight bench.
Wyatt continued as if he hadn’t spoken, “But I wanted to ask you to be my best man.”
He sure as hell hadn’t expected that. Had Wyatt really been going to ask last night? Or was he only asking now because he felt obligated.
“Really?” he asked. “Like Braden doesn’t have that job.” While Zimmer had been going through his divorce, he’d relied heavily on Wyatt. They were close.
Wyatt shook his head. “No, he doesn’t. I want you.”
“Why?” Dawson asked. “Because of that damn news report?”
“Because you’re the one who saved my life.”
“Yeah, still here,” Cody murmured. “Was there, too. Is my name anywhere? In any of these reports?”
“Hey,” Wyatt teased. “Just think of all the money you’re saving. You don’t have to buy drinks. You don’t have to rent a tux…”
“Am I even going to be invited to the wedding?” Cody asked.
“Depends…”
“On what?”
“You going to hit on the bride?”
“Not at the wedding,” Cody said. “That wouldn’t be cool,
even for me. I’ll hit on Dawson’s lady instead. He’s going to be so busy with his best man duties—not losing the ring, doing the speech and all… You know how much he loves public speaking—he won’t even notice.”
But Dawson knew that wouldn’t happen, because Avery Kincaid wasn’t his lady and never would be. Not now. Not after what she’d done…
16
AVERY WAS FURIOUS. She hadn’t expected her boss to air the feature so quickly. But another story had fallen through. A shorter one, so he’d cut too damn much out of her story in order to make it fit the time slot.
Poor Cody Mallehan had been cut. But his ego was healthy enough that he’d survive. Would she? She had a hollow achy feeling in her chest. Something she’d never felt before—until last night when Dawson hadn’t showed up at her door. Maybe Fiona had warned him about the feature.
Avery should have. It would have been the right thing to do. She’d thought running the report was the right thing. Now she wasn’t so certain.
Sure, her boss had been thrilled. He’d wanted her to cut her vacation short and return ASAP. She probably should have. But she wanted to see Dawson first. She wanted to make sure he didn’t hate her.
But he wasn’t at the firehouse. Or his cabin. “I can’t find him anywhere,” she told her sister as she walked into Kim’s kitchen.
“You just missed him.”
“Dawson?” Her heart shuddered now. “He was here? Was he looking for me?”
Kim shook her head. “He was picking up the boys for their camping trip.”
“What?” She’d known nothing about it. But then, she’d been distracted.
“He probably didn’t mention it for fear you’d run a story on it,” Kim said. And there was thinly veiled disapproval in her voice.
“He rescued your sons,” Avery said. “He deserved to get the credit for it.”
“He deserved to have his privacy respected,” Kim replied. “Like he wanted.”
“You talked to him?” Avery asked. “How mad is he?”
Kim shrugged. “Not mad enough to cancel his trip with the boys.”