by Lisa Childs
Was Zimmer kicking him off the team?
“I thought you didn’t have a problem with my working with Wyatt,” he said. Even after Avery’s special report, they’d worked together the same as they always had.
“I don’t,” Zimmer said. “I have a problem with one of my guys being so upset.”
“We’re all upset,” Dawson said. “We want the arsonist caught.”
“You’re not upset over the arsonist,” Zimmer said.
“Yes—”
“You’re upset over the hot reporter,” Cody said.
He just shrugged. “Maybe that’s why the arsonist hasn’t hit anything in Northern Lakes again. Because she’s gone.”
“So you think it’s good she’s gone?”
He shook his head. “I think the arsonist could have followed her back to Chicago.”
“Then what the hell are you doing here?” Zimmer asked.
He tensed. It was true. If Avery was in danger, he needed to be with her—needed to protect her. “I need some time off,” he said. “I need to go to Chicago.”
Cody laughed. “It’s about damn time.”
“Why are you going?” Zimmer asked.
“I just told you, she could be in danger—”
“Or not,” Zimmer said. “She’s not the only one who hasn’t been in town.”
Cody sucked in a breath as realization dawned. “We haven’t been.”
“None of the fires have happened while we’ve been gone,” Braden pointed out.
“Son of a bitch,” Dawson cursed. It had felt personal to him; he just hadn’t realized how personal. “We’re the ones he’s after.” Sure, he’d gone after Avery, too, but that had probably been because Dawson had been seeing her—getting her attention.
Zimmer nodded.
The other two men looked tense. Dawson was relieved. Maybe Avery was safe.
“Are you still going?” Cody asked.
“To Chicago?” If she wasn’t in danger, he had no excuse to go. Except the most important one of all—he loved her. “Hell, yes.”
“Be careful,” Zimmer warned as he started out the door. “Watch your back.”
The arsonist hadn’t tried anything with them individually. He set the fires to take on the entire crew. The only individual he’d targeted was Avery.
Was that because of Dawson, though?
The arsonist had been watching her, so he’d known how often Dawson had gone to see her—how he felt about her. Had being with Avery put her in danger?
Then maybe he shouldn’t go see her…
He was still debating as he drove back to his cabin. He didn’t want to put her in danger. But he wanted to see her. He needed to see her. To be with her…
And if the arsonist was fixated on all the Hotshots, he would stay here—where the majority of them were. He wouldn’t follow Dawson to Chicago.
Was she still there? Her special reports had to have received the attention of the networks. She could move to New York. Or LA. It had only been a week, but maybe she already had.
Before he booked his flight, he would check with her sister. Kim would know where she was.
He pulled the truck up next to his cabin and killed the engine. Then he jumped out and slammed the driver’s door. The sound echoed around the woods—what was left of the woods after that damn fire.
He was lucky the arsonist hadn’t hit his side of the forest. Just Cody’s.
Maybe he’d offer to let Cody stay at his place until he got back. He crossed the short front porch and reached for the door. But he didn’t have to push it open; it already stood open.
Since their return to Northern Lakes the day before, he’d been back to the cabin. Surely he hadn’t been so distracted he’d left the door open. Or unlocked.
He glanced around again, but only his truck sat in the driveway. There were no other vehicles. If someone had broken in, they’d come on foot.
Why would someone do that?
Because they didn’t want anyone seeing their vehicle and maybe getting the license plate number?
He pushed the door open a little farther. The door creaked, but another creak inside echoed it. And he saw a shadow falling across the floor.
Someone had broken into his place. And he could think of only one reason why. The arsonist intended to burn down Dawson’s place now.
22
AVERY SHIVERED WITH FEAR. While she still considered Northern Lakes home, it didn’t feel the way it had before. It wasn’t the safe and happy place it had once been to her.
It was the place the arsonist had nearly killed her—not once but twice. The first time he’d only been trying to scare her enough to tell his story. The second time he’d been so angry he’d wanted her dead. And he would have killed her if it wasn’t for Dawson.
She heard a creak, but before she could turn around strong arms grabbed her, holding her tight. She screamed. Then she recognized the arms, the musky scent.
“Dawson.”
Instead of loosening, his grasp on her tightened and he murmured, “I can’t believe it’s you.”
She struggled slightly, just enough that she could turn around in his arms. “I wanted to surprise you,” she said.
He expelled a shaky breath. “You surprised me, all right. There’s no other car around and you left the door open.”
“I had Kim drop me off so I could surprise you.” A pang of regret struck her. “I’m sorry. I should have known better. I should have known you might not be happy to see me.” After all, he had never really forgiven her for the report she’d done on him.
He touched her face, his fingers skimming along her jaw and then over her lips. “Shh…” he said. “I’m very happy it’s you.”
“Oh.” Her breath escaped in a gasp. “You thought it was the arsonist waiting in here. I’m sorry—”
His fingers brushed over her lips again, stilling them. “I forgive you,” he said.
And hope swelled in her heart. She didn’t think he was talking about surprising him as she just had. “You do?”
He nodded.
“But I didn’t think you could,” she said. “You were so mad at me.”
“I got over being mad at you a long time ago,” he said.
Had he gotten over her, too? Or had he never really been into her? Not like she was into him. Having Kim drop her off had been a horrible idea. Not only had she alarmed him, but she’d also trapped herself. If he rejected the declaration of love she intended to make, she couldn’t escape with a quick exit. She would have to suffer through her humiliation while he drove her home. If he would drive her home…
“I’m sorry,” she said again. “I shouldn’t have ignored your wishes.”
“No, you shouldn’t have,” he agreed.
He didn’t exactly sound as if he’d forgiven her.
“I can’t take that back,” she said. The report had taken on a life of its own now. “But I can respect your wishes from now on.”
She stared up at him. She’d missed him so much. All she wanted was to throw her arms around his neck and pull his head down for a kiss. But if she kissed him, they would make love. And they wouldn’t talk.
While she had never had much success in getting Dawson to talk before, she had to now. She had to learn how he felt. So she asked, “What do you wish for?”
And she held her breath while she waited for his answer.
*
DAWSON WISHED FOR many things. He wished they knew who the arsonist was. He wished that she and everyone in Northern Lakes would be safe. But more than that he wished she loved him.
Answering questions was never easy for him, though. Especially when he didn’t know why she was asking them. “What is this?” he asked. “A follow-up interview?”
“A follow-up?” she repeated. “You would’ve had to grant me an interview
in the first place. But you didn’t.”
“It didn’t stop you.”
Hurt and regret flashed in her turquoise eyes. She really did feel bad about having run the story. So she wasn’t interviewing him again.
“I’m sorry,” he said now. “I’m really not angry about that anymore.”
“You’re bitter instead,” she said, and there was a hopelessness in her voice he’d never heard before.
She was always so determined, so optimistic.
“And you’ll never trust me,” she continued. “I shouldn’t have come here. This was a mistake.” She moved as if to tug free of his loose embrace, her hands braced against his chest. But he tightened his arms around her; he wasn’t going to let her go.
“I’m the one making the mistake,” he said. He was screwing up his chance with her. But first he had to know if he had a chance. “I haven’t heard from you in more than a week—”
“I didn’t hear from you either,” she interrupted.
He smiled at her defensiveness. “I’ve been a little busy fighting fires out West.”
“I know…”
He asked the question that had been bothering him. “Why haven’t you been covering those stories?”
She shrugged. “A certain Hotshot pointed out to me how reporters just tend to get in the way and make a firefighter’s job more dangerous.”
“True,” he agreed. “You make my job more dangerous even when you’re not there.”
The hurt was in her eyes again. “How?”
“Because you distract me,” he said. “You’re all I’ve thought about…”
“You can’t afford to be distracted,” she said. Alarm and concern replaced the hurt. “Not with how dangerous your job is.”
“I know.” He’d done his job, but he hadn’t been as focused as he usually was. Because of her…
“What are you going to do about it?” she asked.
“Zimmer gave me a few days off to get my head together.” Actually to get together with her.
“How were you planning to do that?”
“By going to Chicago and seeing you,” he said.
Her beautiful eyes brightened with hope, and she smiled. “You were coming to see me?”
“Just stopped back here to pack,” he said.
She moved her hands over his chest. “You wouldn’t have needed any clothes.”
“I thought about that.” He slid his hands down her back to her hips and pulled her a little closer. His body ached for hers, his erection throbbing behind his fly. “But if I hadn’t stopped back here, I would have missed you.”
She laughed. “Like star-crossed lovers…” Then the brightness in her eyes dimmed. “Maybe we are star-crossed. How can we make this work? We’re both so busy.”
“We are both busy people,” he agreed. “But every chance we get we’ll be together. Every break I’ll come to you—wherever you are.”
“You don’t want me to move back to Northern Lakes?”
“And do what?” he asked with a derisive snort. “Report on the local bake sales? No. I want you to be you—the hotshot reporter I fell in love with.”
She gasped, and her eyes widened with shock. And hope. And something else… Something he hoped he wasn’t just imagining. Her voice quavering slightly, she asked, “You love me?”
“With all my heart,” he said. “And because of that, I will never stand in the way of your career. I’ll support you.”
“You gave me the greatest story of my career,” she said.
“The arsonist?”
She tensed, as if just the mention of him scared her.
“Don’t worry,” he assured her. “We think it may be our team he has the problem with. Not you.”
“That doesn’t make me feel any better.”
“We’ll catch him,” he promised. “We’ll stop him.”
“I believe you.”
“I’m glad you did the story,” he said. “I’m glad you informed the public about him. But I’m happiest about what it’s done for your career.”
“I have job offers from all over,” she said.
“For more investigative reporting?”
“Some,” she said.
But she didn’t sound as excited about that as he’d thought she would be.
“One network wants me to do more special reports,” she said, with more enthusiasm. “Like what I did about you. It’s out of New York City.”
“I like New York.”
“You do?” she asked.
“It’s a nice change of pace from here.”
“From snail to breakneck?”
He laughed. “It’ll be a good balance.”
Her breath shuddered out in a sigh of relief. “I’ll have more free time,” she said. “With doing the special reports, I’ll be able to come home often. I’m having the cottage rebuilt, too—making it a year-round home.”
He smiled. She had already decided how to make a relationship between them work. “And I’ll be with you every chance I get.”
She smiled, too.
“I’m glad something good came of all the destruction the arsonist has caused,” he said.
“Him—the fire—that wasn’t the greatest story of my career,” she said.
“What was?” he asked.
“You,” she said. “You’re a hero. My hero.”
He had never wanted to be anyone’s hero. He’d only wanted to do his job. Until now. Until Avery. He wanted to be her hero. He wanted to be her everything.
“I love you,” she said.
He released a ragged sigh of relief.
“How could you not know?” she asked. “Kim and Fiona said I gave away my feelings in the report about you.”
“You loved me then?”
She nodded. “Before I even met you, I loved you for saving my nephews. Then when I met you, I couldn’t help falling even more in love with you.”
“I tried to fight my feelings,” he admitted.
She slapped his chest lightly.
“But you’re persistent, Ms. Kincaid,” he said. “I didn’t have a chance.”
But they did. Their love was so strong that their relationship could survive anything: an arsonist, busy careers, separations…
And every time they reunited, the attraction would be as hot as the first time they’d met. He reached for the buttons on her blouse as she tugged up his shirt. In seconds nothing separated them—they were skin to skin. Heart to heart…
*
Hotshot Cody Mallehan doesn’t get attached to any place or anyone. But beautiful Serena Beaumont might just tempt him to stay in Northern Lakes—and in her bed—forever…
Look for HOT SEDUCTION, the next installment in Lisa Childs’s HOTSHOT HEROES miniseries.
Keep reading for an excerpt from ONE BLAZING NIGHT by Jo Leigh.
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One Blazing Night
by Jo Leigh
1
AS THE MUSIC from her headphones blasted the sound track from Raiders of the Lost Ark, Samantha O’Connel narrowed her eyes in her attempt to read a note left by her newest part-time employee, Tina Albert. Tina was an MIT student, just like the other six people Sam employed at her company, SOC Electronics. Tina was cute, bright, witty, completely dedicated to doing a good job. And she had terrible handwriting.
It wasn’t her fault, really. By the time Tina was born, there were millions of teenagers who hardly ever needed to write. They came of age at the dawn of smartphones. But Tina would have to learn to write more clearly.
Sam rubbed her eyes and took another look. Maybe she could have read the chicken scratches if she hadn’t worked until midnight. She’d skipped dinner and hadn’t looked up until just past midnight. Again.
She was getting old. At twenty, sleep had been optional, but at twenty-nine, there were only so many nights she could get five hours and feel refreshed the next day. She certainly needed to be alert.
Ah. The note was a reminder that the new hard drive had been delivered to the smart apartment. Sam didn’t have time to install it and wouldn’t for at least a week. Neither would Clark, though she wouldn’t have asked him to anyway. The prototype apartment was her baby—she’d bought the building in Boston’s Financial District with her personal money and designed all the electronics herself. Luckily, the new drive wasn’t actually necessary for the apartment to function, but it would help with the intermittent sensor problems she’d noted on her logs.
So far, the apartment was a raging success but needed some refinements. No paying guests had stayed there yet, only her friends and family. Each one had given her a critique and made suggestions—some of them really good—but she was too busy for a hobby that was so complex. Sadly, that was the only kind of hobby she liked. Well, except for gaming. Which was more part of her DNA than a hobby.