Inferno 0f Love (Firefighters 0f Long Valley Book 2)

by Erin Wright

  Which was code for “In the last ten minutes.”

  Georgia sliced off a small bite of her roast beef and popped it in her mouth as she waited for her gorgeous and super talented cousin to respond to her father’s probing.

  Actually, eating off china and silver wasn’t such a bad thing, really. It was having Robert Rowland as a father that would do her in.

  Tennessee took a small sip of her moscato. “He has me working on some Vivaldi pieces right now,” she said with a polite smile at her dad. “And I practiced earlier today. Perhaps you were outside and didn’t hear me.”

  Virginia, Tenny’s younger sister, jumped into the fray, but whether it was to give a reprieve to her older sister for a moment or just because she was dying for some attention herself, Georgia couldn’t tell. You never knew with Virginia. “Did you hear, Father? My cello instructor said that if I keep it up, I might get into Juilliard next year, after I graduate. He said—”

  “That’s nice, darlin’,” Aunt Roberta cut her off, “but we were talking about your sister’s musical career.” She gave Virginia a pointed look, who promptly slunk down in her seat.

  “Yes, Momma,” she said into her goblet of ice water.

  “And stop slouching.”

  Virginia obediently sat up.

  Georgia kept a stiff smile on her lips as she cut into her potato. She could feel her mom practically vibrating with anger to her left, but she too said nothing. It would only cause problems to try to point out to Robert and Roberta that their younger daughter had potential too; problems for everyone involved. They’d take it out on Georgia and her parents, sure, but they’d take it out even more on Virginia. It wouldn’t be kind to the teenager to stand up for her, as much as that reality sucked ass.

  “Has Deere asked you to attend the fire department fundraiser with him?” Uncle Robert asked Tennessee, ignoring his younger daughter’s comment completely.

  Georgia swallowed, hard, and a small piece of potato went down the wrong tube. She started coughing politely into her hand, desperately trying to pretend that everything was fine, but she soon gave into a full-body cough, huddled over in her chair, tears streaming down her face from the force of the coughing.

  Her mom patted her on the back. “Are you okay, dear?” she murmured as Georgia struggled for air. Her face was hot with embarrassment, but finally the coughing fit passed, the potato unlodged itself from her airway, and she was able to breathe without lapsing into another coughing fit.

  “So sorry,” she murmured into her goblet of moscato. “Eating sure is dangerous sometimes.”

  No one laughed.

  “He hasn’t yet,” Tennessee said, politely answering her father’s question as if nothing had happened. She gave a small shrug. “We might just meet there. Honestly, Father, I don’t think he’s ready—”

  “Of course he is; he just doesn’t know it yet,” her father snapped. “He’s a typical male, is all. But his dad and I have talked, and it’s settled. As soon as Deere is ready, he’ll propose. His dad has made it quite clear that he doesn’t get the dealership until then, so I imagine he’ll be ready soon. His dad has him working as a grease monkey right now, helping with oil changes in the shop, and he certainly won’t want that job for long. He’s going to want to take things over, and he knows that marriage to you is how that’ll happen.”

  Tenny nodded, her curled and styled hair falling forward to cover her face. “Of course,” she murmured into her dinner plate.

  So yeah, maybe being the daughter of the high school biology teacher wasn’t such a bad thing after all. The principal didn’t demand that Georgia marry someone who would take over the English department; no one really cared who she married, honestly, as long as he was a vaguely decent guy. Her parents wouldn’t exactly get behind a pothead or a thief, but they also didn’t sit around the dinner table and grill her about her marriage prospects.

  Thank God for small favors.

  She shot a grateful smile at her parents, sitting side by side, politely working their way through the beautifully cooked food. After this week’s torture was over, her mother would gratefully throw on a pair of sweatpants, put her hair up in a ponytail, and get to work on her oil paintings. Her dad would put on his work jeans and go putter around in the garage; probably work on the lawn mower that’s been giving him fits. Get it ready for the upcoming season.

  And Georgia would head back to her condo, home to her and her two goldfish, and read a book while curled up in bed.

  It wasn’t an exciting life, but it was theirs, and compared to the rich branch of the family, Georgia couldn’t help but be grateful for it. If money turned a person into Uncle Robert and Aunt Roberta, she figured being middle class for the rest of her life was something she’d be happy with.

  The topic of conversation turned to water – not enough of it, as always – and the wind – which was busy drying everything out like a nature-sized hair dryer – and Tennessee, grateful to have the spotlight off her for the moment, began picking at her food with a little more enthusiasm.

  Another week, another Sunday dinner.

  Georgia suddenly had visions of spending Sunday afternoon with her aunt and uncle when she was 72, the conversation just as stilted and awkward as it was now. A half century of dinners together would do nothing to bring them closer together as a family, that was for damn sure.

  And then the idea of Moose sitting next to Tennessee entered into the daydream, and Georgia felt her heart squeeze at the thought. Someday, Tenny was going to marry Moose, and she’d probably want Georgia as her maid of honor, and Georgia would have to pretend to be happy even as her heart was being stomped to pieces…

  “Are you okay?” Virginia’s voice broke into her thoughts, and Georgia’s head jerked up.

  “Yes, of course,” she murmured, taking another sip of her moscato.

  She was good at pretending. She had to be.

  Chapter 4

  Moose

  “Six days left, guys,” Jaxson said, pushing his fingers through his dark brown hair. He had bags under his eyes and he hadn’t shaved for a couple of days. He looked like a guy at the end of his rope. “What’s left to figure out? Did everyone go talk to their assigned local businesses?”

  “I talked to everyone on my list,” Moose said, “plus I chatted with Georgia over at the credit union.”

  He felt Levi stiffen up next to him. “I was supposed to talk to Georgia,” he practically growled.

  Moose lifted an eyebrow of surprise at his best friend’s surliness. “I was there making a deposit, and saw that her office was empty. I figured why not chat with her while I had the chance, right?”

  “Whatever,” Levi mumbled, clicking his ballpoint pen as he stared down at the scarred tabletop. “What is she donating?”

  “Ummm…bank deposits for kids,” Moose said, a little more cautiously. “If a parent or grandparent puts $50 into a child’s account, the bank will match it. She thought it’d be a good way to encourage children to save for college or whatever.”

  “She’s already swung by here and filled out the paperwork for it,” Jaxson put in, oblivious to the sudden tension between Levi and Moose. “She’s on the done list. Luke, have you talked to Betty down at the diner yet?”

  As the conversation shifted to less tension-fraught topics, Moose sighed to himself and tried to ignore Levi’s pissed-off demeanor. If he reacted like this simply because Moose had talked to Georgia, what would he do if Moose kissed Georgia?

  Not, of course, that Moose would do that. He was going to marry Tennessee. Everything was practically settled except for the ring and a date. Her father wanted it, his father wanted it, Tennessee wanted it, and Moose wanted it.

  Okay, so all of that was true except for the last part. “Want” was a strong word, honestly. Moose had…resigned himself to it. Marrying Tennessee was what he was supposed to do, and Moose always did what he was supposed to do.

  As…uninspiring as Moose’s love life was, though, at least
it wasn’t a disaster zone like Levi’s. Levi and Georgia had dated for three years, starting in high school and going through to the end of their first year in college, and their break-up hadn’t exactly been stellar, unfortunately. Since then, from all outward appearances, Georgia had moved on and was fine with her life.

  Levi, meanwhile, was stuck deeper than a 4x4 buried up to its axle in mud.

  Oh, he’d tell you that he’d moved on if you asked him, but Moose knew that was a lie, even if Levi didn’t. He hadn’t meant to step on Levi’s toes by chatting with Georgia about the fundraiser but in retrospect, it should’ve been obvious that this was how it would go down.

  It was almost six years since Levi and Georgia had broken things off. Would it be another six years before Levi was fully over her? For Levi’s sake, Moose could only hope that wasn’t true.

  Chapter 5

  Georgia

  She got out of her sedan and hurried across the blacktop to the high school gymnasium. Tripp should be here any minute now…she scanned the crowds headed into the basketball gym, hoping to catch sight of her assistant manager among the crush.

  There he was. Leaning up against one of the columns outside of the row of doors leading into the gym, he already looked bored out of his skull. Attending social events to represent the credit union to the community wasn’t exactly Tripp’s strong suit. She’d tried to tell him that this was going to hurt his career long-term – the credit union president liked to see his employees out schmoozing with the locals – but…

  Well, Tripp was Tripp. Trying to get him to change his mind on something was akin to trying to push a granite boulder up the side of the Tetons. He wasn’t going to budge, and you’d do nothing but wear yourself out trying. It really was a damn good thing he was such a good-lookin’ guy, and a lot of fun to be around. It helped when it came to forgiving him for his faults.

  “Having fun?” she asked him with a straight face as he fell into step beside her.

  “Loads.” The sarcasm was so thick, she had visions of scraping it off with a butter knife.

  “Well, thanks for agreeing to come with me anyway,” she said as he opened one of the sets of glass doors for her. “How is Porky handling the strain of being left alone for the night?”

  “She didn’t even have the decency to look disgruntled,” Tripp said with a disgruntled sigh. Georgia bit back her grin. “I fed her her evening can of dog food, and then she was off to sleep again. It’s like she only cares about me because I am her source of food.”

  Georgia had to bite down on her lower lip even harder. Porky wasn’t exactly the most energetic dog on the face of the planet, and she rather figured that this was exactly how Porky viewed Tripp and every other human out there.

  Before she could flip him shit about keeping his dog on a diet, the crowds were upon them and she had to get to work. There were community members aplenty to chat with and kids to hand lollipops to.

  She glad-handed long-time customers of the credit union as she and Tripp wandered together around the silent auction area, checking out the donated items and the prices they were going for. Between discussions of planned weddings and birth announcements and the occasional complaint about a bank policy, Georgia scanned for items that hadn’t had a bid registered for them yet.

  She had a soft spot for people who donated items that weren’t generating any interest, so she made sure to put down a couple of generous bids for otherwise ignored items. She wasn’t exactly sure what she’d do with an owl clock whose eyes ticked back and forth with every swing of the pendulum, but she’d figure something out. Maybe she could donate it to the senior citizen’s center. Or to someone who was blind. At least they would appreciate the aesthetics…

  Georgia wasn’t the only one working the crowd tonight, she noted as she wandered around. Jaxson and Troy were too, but they were doing it with firemen boots in hand, selling raffle tickets for a set of kayaks donated by the local river club.

  She was impressed to see Jaxson chatting people up and moving around the gym with ease. If she didn’t know any better, she would’ve guessed that he’d been in town all his life, instead of just a handful of months. When he’d first moved to town, people had struggled to get used to the idea of a “foreigner” being in charge of their fire department, but after he saved Sugar and Gage from the bakery fire…Well, people seemed to be singing a different tune. It was nice to see him fitting in so well.

  Troy, on the other hand…he looked like he was in pain as he drifted around with the boot in hand, trying to pretend that he was enjoying himself. Georgia wondered for a minute who thought it was a good idea to put him in charge of schmoozing local residents. She’d known him all her life, and hadn’t heard more than a couple dozen words from him in all that time. He made a brick wall seem downright talkative.

  “C’mon,” she said, grabbing Tripp’s arm and pulling him towards Troy. “I want to buy some raffle tickets.”

  Tripp grumbled under his breath but followed along obediently behind her. Georgia ignored his protestations. At this point, he’d complain about a bikini-clad girl serving him a meal on a platter. He was bound and determined to be grumpy, and there wasn’t a damn thing she or anyone else could do about it.

  It was one of the reasons why their relationship worked so well – she didn’t try to change him, and he didn’t pretend to give a damn.

  “Hi, Troy,” she said with a cheerful smile, looking up at the blond man in front of her. He was handsome, as long as you went for the scruffy, blond, silent type. If Georgia ever saw some woman manage to get Troy to say more than three words in a row to her, Georgia’d know it was true love. “How much are the tickets this year?”

  “Five for six,” he rumbled as he looked down at her intently. He had these gorgeous green eyes that she’d somehow never noticed before.

  It really was too bad that the tall, silent, brooding guys just weren’t her style because objectively, even she could tell that Troy was handsome enough to grace the cover of a firefighter magazine.

  “I’ve got a ten,” she said, rummaging through her purse and pulling the ten-dollar bill out triumphantly. He peeled twelve raffle tickets off the massive roll he’d been carrying around. Georgia looked at the roll with a laugh. “Y’all sure are an optimistic group,” she said dryly. There were probably a thousand tickets on the roll. Just how many raffle tickets did they think they’d sell tonight?

  Troy just shrugged and smiled.

  “Where do I put your half?” she asked, busily separating the duplicate tickets from each other. One numbered ticket would go into the prize drawing; the matching other half would go into her purse as proof in case she actually won.

  “Ummm…” Troy said, and then turned to point at a large glass bowl up at the front of the gym.

  “Thanks!” she said, and headed off to put half of the tickets into the bowl, Tripp trailing along behind her.

  “Troy does speak, right? Not just grunts and shrugs, but real honest-to-God words?” Tripp asked no one in particular as they made their way across the gym.

  “Only when he has to,” Georgia said with a shrug. “Not everyone is as loquacious as you.”

  Tripp ignored that jibe and looked around, probably hoping to find someone to flirt with. He’d played dutiful assistant manager for long enough; now it was time for him to go have some fun.

  “I think the Stephenson girl is here tonight,” Georgia said with a grin and a jerk of her head towards the blonde in question.

  “Now we’re talking,” Tripp said with a cocky grin, and then he was gone, making his way across the crowded gym to do some flirting.

  Georgia looked around with a heavy sigh. Even as snarky as he was being tonight, Tripp was still at least company. Without him to hang out with, she was going to be awkwardly by herself for the rest of the evening. Social events…they were the bane of her existence for this very reason. She didn’t mind hanging out with the Long Valley community – not like Tripp did, anyway – but doing
it by herself was starting to get old.

  Old like me.

  She pushed that thought away. She’d be 27 next year. It wasn’t like she was hitting retirement age next week or something.

  “What was that sigh for?” Levi asked at her elbow. She spun in a circle, her hand over her heart.

  “Good Lord, I didn’t hear you come up!” she said with a laugh. “How’s it going so far?” She ignored the sigh question. Talking to Levi about how she felt lonely at these kinds of gatherings was not going to happen. He’d read something into that that plain wasn’t there.

  Nope, she wasn’t gonna touch that with a ten-foot pole.

  “Pretty good turnout so far. The donkeys are getting restless out back, so we’ll probably have to round up the guys soon to start the basketball game.”

  Georgia smiled, happy to have something to discuss with Levi that wasn’t charged with awkward emotions. They could do friends. They could totally do friends. As long as Levi left any discussion of dating out of it, they’d be just fine.

  “So who’s running this year’s bet on the basketball game?”

  “Mr. Leadbetter, although of course, I don’t know that, and neither do you.” Betting money, even on something as innocuous as donkey basketball, wasn’t technically permitted by Idaho state law.

  It was a law everyone chose to overlook, even Sheriff Connelly, for at least one night a year.

  “Who are you guys playing tonight?”

  “A bunch of high school teachers and staff.”

  Georgia snorted with laughter at the idea of Mrs. Westingsmith riding a donkey around the gym while trying to huck a basketball at the hoop. Or even more insane…her father on the back of a donkey.

  This was a game she wouldn’t miss for the world.

  “The odds are…definitely in our favor,” Levi said, reading her snort of laughter correctly. “In the non-existent betting pool, of course.”