by Amie Denman
Jane hopped down and headed for her car. “Jane, wait,” Kevin said.
She turned. “I know. Arnold’s short, not fat.”
He smiled. “Thanks.”
“Any time.”
She got in her car and backed out of the driveway. Kevin popped the lid off the sky blue paint and stirred it, watching the colors blend for a long time before he got back to work.
* * *
NICOLE’S SISTER, LAURA, was tall like their brother, Adam, had been. She also had green eyes, but her long hair was a darker blond. When Nicole picked her up at the airport in Norfolk, she noticed some changes. Laura had dyed her hair a chestnut brown. It was attractive. But it didn’t do anything to conceal the dark circles under her eyes.
“Vacation,” Laura squealed when Nicole hugged her in the luggage area. “Screw Indianapolis. I need to get away from that place.”
“That’s what I’m doing,” Nicole said. “Cape Pursuit is wonderful.”
“No kidding. You look fantastic,” her sister said. “Not that you were a hag before or anything, but you’ve got some color and you look—” her sister held her at arm’s length for a minute, scrutinizing her face “—happy.”
Nicole felt a twinge of guilt. Was she happy? Did she have a right to be happy? Her family had lived with such grief for the year since they lost Adam that she hadn’t known anything else. Until she came to Cape Pursuit just over two months ago. Every day the sadness ebbed away as if the waves lapping at the sand were taking it out to sea.
And she was starting to realize her feelings for Kevin were wrapped up in that. As if her lungs could finally expand and she could breathe. As if her eyes opened to the sunlight a little wider than they had before. This new feeling was like walking into her parents’ house after school and smelling her favorite dinner cooking. How much of her newfound happiness was Kevin and how much was getting away, starting over in Cape Pursuit? She wasn’t ready to confide in Laura. Not yet. She’d have to assess where her sister was before she started talking about rainbows and unicorns.
“It’s the beach,” Nicole said, thinking she should offer some reason to her sister. “And my job. I love working with Jane and I’m even displaying some of my photography.”
“Are you sure it’s okay with Jane if I stay with you for the week?”
“Of course. She insisted. While you’re here, you can help me look at houses. I’ve decided to rent my own place for now—before I wear out my welcome with Jane—but I’m seriously considering buying.”
“You’re not coming home?” Laura asked. Her shoulders drooped and she stopped towing her suitcase.
“Honey, I’m sorry. I know I said moving here was temporary, but...well, I’m not sure about that anymore.”
Laura half smiled and rubbed her sister’s arm. “Do they have a high school here in Cape Pursuit? Maybe I could get a job. The teenagers here can’t be any snottier than they are back home.”
“You’ve only been teaching one year. Give it a chance,” Nicole said.
“Teenagers are mean.” Laura sighed and continued rolling her red suitcase toward the parking garage. “I need a new life.”
They loaded Laura’s luggage in the trunk and spent the hour’s drive catching up. As they approached Cape Pursuit, Nicole’s cell phone chimed with a message. “Will you read that for me?” she asked. “It’s illegal, and I’m too old anyway to master texting and driving.”
“You’re twenty-six.” Laura reached into the back seat and pulled her sister’s cell phone from the front pocket of her purse. “It’s from a man named Charlie Z,” she said. She narrowed her eyes at her older sister. “Sounds like a drug dealer’s name. Do I need to tell Mom and Dad anything?”
Nicole laughed. “He’s my Realtor. His last name is Zimmerman, but I didn’t bother to type the whole thing in. The Z section of my address book isn’t that complicated.”
Laura tapped the text and read it aloud. “‘I’m at a great house for you right now. Are you available for a quick look?’”
Nicole took the exit into Cape Pursuit and thought about it for a second. Was she serious about a place of her own? She loved the town, loved working in the gallery, but was it a permanent or even semipermanent choice? What about the MBA from the state college in Indiana she’d just paid the last loan on? Was she using that investment working in an art gallery and selling a few photographs on the side? Did it matter?
“Do you want me to answer him?” her sister prompted.
“Am I crazy for looking at a house? I’ve never owned anything big except this car.”
“This car is small,” Laura said. She pulled a chocolate bar from her purse, broke it in two, and gave Nicole half. “You look better than you have in a long time. Since...you know when. If you’re happy here, then...”
Nicole bit off a chunk of the chocolate crisp bar from the locally famous candy factory in her hometown. It was one of the things she missed about Indianapolis, but there weren’t many others. Except her family, of course.
“Life is short,” Laura said, interrupting her thoughts.
“Ask him the address, if you don’t mind a little detour.”
“I’m on vacation. I have plenty of time.” Laura tapped out a message on her sister’s phone. “Is Charlie Z hot?” Laura asked after she sent the message.
“Yes,” Nicole said. “Very.”
“Taken?”
“Sort of. I believe he’s involved with someone.” Nicole wouldn’t divulge Jane’s secret; there would be plenty of time during her sister’s visit if Jane wanted to talk about it.
Nicole’s phone beeped and her sister read the address in the message.
“Too bad the hot Realtor’s taken. He actually answers messages, unlike the last loser I dated.”
Nicole laughed. “It’s business for him, so of course he communicates fast. Plus he’s on a tight timetable. Realty is only his part-time job. He’s a full-time firefighter,” Nicole said. She wondered if and how he would balance being a parent along with his work. But Jane could do it, and so could he.
“Not interested in a firefighter no matter how hot he is.” Laura sighed and shoved her sister’s phone back in her purse. “Guess we’ll keep our eyes on the house instead.”
* * *
KEVIN WAS ON day three of his painting job. Yellow covered the house except for the high parts under the eaves and the two dormers perched on the roof. He’d need a ladder for those parts. Another day and he planned to try his ankle’s strength by standing on a ladder. The swelling was down, the black and blue fading. But he wasn’t sure he could trust it.
Maybe the chief had been right about making him take a week off. With the way the shifts ran, he would actually end up with nine days off. By that time, this place should look like a cottage befitting a beach town. He stood on the front porch and balanced a sky blue shutter in one hand, his cordless drill in the other. It was the last shutter to go on the front of the house, and the blue contrasting with the yellow made a nice combination.
He hated admitting Charlie Zimmerman was right about the colors, but it was a cheerful house. Inviting. Made his own dark blue house look like a dungeon, even though the style and floor plan were almost the same. Most of the houses on the side streets in Cape Pursuit were similar because of their origins as beach rentals. With his remaining three days off, he could repaint his own house and make his landlord happy.
Paint therapy. That was what Jane had called it.
He wondered if Jane had told Nicole about their talk. Even though she might not realize it, he’d heard Nicole’s whisper as his partner turned the ignition on the squad. I think you’re a hero. Fighting fires and rescuing people takes bravery, but it was nothing compared to what it must have taken Nicole to say those words. As he’d mulled over the drowning and limped through the past six days, remembering Nicole’s quiet admission h
ad been powerful.
That still didn’t mean he’d been brave enough to call her or stop by the gallery. It was an embarrassing cowardice, and he should kick his own ass, but he was afraid of breaking the fragile relationship he had with Nicole. If his former relationships—all one and a half of them—were any indication, he wasn’t good at reading minds. He and Arnold had both had the same stunned expression when his girlfriend had moved out almost as quickly as she moved in, leaving him, the dog and a note. That was two years ago, and he hadn’t made it past buying a drink for a woman since.
Charlie was inside, opening windows and getting ready to show the place to someone. A young couple had been there two days ago to check it out, but the paint was covering the house in patches and the shutters were propped all around the driveway and yard, their sky blue paint drying. It probably hadn’t made a great impression. A family with three children came yesterday. The paint looked better, but the dearth of square footage sent them packing in their minivan.
Perhaps it would be perfect for whoever Charlie was pitching it to today.
Kevin carried four shutters and stacked them against the side of the house to complete the two windows there. Charlie had given Kevin a tour before he started painting, so he knew the side windows provided light for a kitchen and small dining area.
He heard two car doors shut in the driveway, Charlie greet someone and the front screen door snap shut. It was his job to make the place look good but stay out of the way. Charlie was the schmoozer, using his charm to talk people into the right bed, bath and closet combo.
A higher selling price often meant a bonus for Kevin, a deal he and Charlie had shared for several years, but he still wasn’t interested in becoming partners with him. Although Charlie balanced his time and energy between his two jobs, Kevin preferred to think of firefighting as his main occupation. His calling.
Kevin surveyed the side windows and decided they were too high to reach from the ground. Without the benefit of the front porch to stand on, he needed an extra three feet of height. He stacked up a few concrete blocks, balanced a scrap board on top and stepped carefully onto the platform, trying to shift his weight off his tender ankle. Holding a shutter against the house next to the kitchen window, he leaned close to the glass and screwed the shutter fast.
He noticed movement inside the kitchen and hoped his drill’s noise wouldn’t wreck Charlie’s sales pitch. He held a shutter up on the other side of the window. The old wood shutters were heavy, but they had character. A bead of sweat ran down his forehead, but he didn’t let go of the shutter. He got the two top screws in and paused to wipe his face with the sleeve of his T-shirt.
A face in the window stopped him. A pretty woman with dark brown hair stood over the kitchen sink and watched him work. He smiled at her, hoping he wasn’t such a disgusting sight that she’d move on to the next house for sale. The woman turned and said something to someone else in the room, probably Charlie.
Kevin held a screw in place and drilled it in. He fished the last screw out of his chest pocket and glanced in the window again. It was hard to avoid looking since he was standing on a makeshift platform right outside the window.
There was another face. A familiar one. What the heck was Nicole doing here? As he watched, she flipped two latches and shoved the lower half of the window up.
“What are you doing?” she asked. “I thought you were staying off your ankle.”
Kevin grinned. “I’m standing on the other foot.”
Nicole smiled. She was just as beautiful through a dark window screen as she was in the sunshine. There was something so right about seeing her in this house. Perhaps it was the sunny yellow color.
Did she still think he was a hero now that a week had gone by since the water rescue?
“I like the color you’re painting this,” she said.
“Charlie’s idea. I can’t take credit.”
“It looks like it belongs on the Mediterranean,” she said. “Like an Italian villa.”
“Glad you like it. Are you seriously thinking of buying it?”
That’s a very good sign.
“I’m coming out to talk to you before we leave,” she said. She shut the window without giving him a chance to respond.
Kevin moved his platform below the next window and continued hanging shutters, all the while keeping an eye open for Nicole. Was she serious about settling down in Cape Pursuit?
More importantly, why did she want to talk with him before she left?
He finished affixing the shutters to the other side of the house. A half hour had gone by. If he didn’t want to climb a ladder and paint the eaves today, he was out of things to do. He stacked his tools in the garage, refilled Arnold’s water bucket under the truck and listened to the voices inside the house. Who was the woman with Nicole?
The door from the house into the garage opened and the two women followed Charlie out. Nicole wore shorts and a close-fitting green top that matched her eyes. Kevin took quick stock of his own appearance, knowing he looked like a man who hadn’t shaved or glanced in a mirror in days.
“Try to picture the garage without all the ladders and paint cans and the troll I hired to paint it,” Charlie said. “Plenty of room for your car, a lawnmower, a bike.”
Nicole wasn’t looking at the garage. She was looking straight at Kevin. The woman with her had the same eyes but was several inches taller with much darker hair. Nicole came straight to him as he hovered near the bed of his truck.
“Kevin,” she said. Was her breathing a little too fast? He was trained to notice things like that when he assessed people with medical emergencies. Was he the cause of the flush creeping over Nicole’s neck? “I want you to meet my sister, Laura,” Nicole continued. “She’s here for a week’s vacation.”
Kevin turned to Laura, shook hands and exchanged greetings. That explains the resemblance. He saw the curious glance Nicole’s sister gave her, as if to ask how she knew this house painter guy.
“Kevin is—”
Nicole hesitated and Kevin wondered how she was going to fill in the blank. What was he to her? He knew what he’d like to be, but he also knew how unlikely that was.
Charlie, the schmoozer, filled in the gap. “Kevin’s the guy who took the door off your sister’s car the first day she got to Cape Pursuit. If I were you,” Charlie said, “I’d watch out for this guy. And I’d certainly keep my car doors closed.”
Charlie grinned, but Laura drew her eyebrows together and frowned. She turned to Nicole. “I thought you said your car got hit by a fire truck?”
“It did,” Nicole said. Her flush deepened and she shuffled the papers in her hands, probably realty documents from Charlie.
Kevin wasn’t sure how to read Nicole’s reaction. He knew this was a delicate topic for her, and it likely was for her sister, too. He saw Laura’s eyes focus on the embroidery on his Cape Pursuit Fire Department T-shirt.
Laura’s eyes traveled back to his face. “So did you steal a fire truck and wreck it or do you have two jobs?” Laura asked. The wrinkles in her forehead relaxed, but only a little. It was hot in the garage. But this would not be the time to have a bead of sweat roll off his nose, not when he was trying to come up with the right answer.
“Stole it,” he said.
Laura gave him a hint of smile. “Good.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
GETTING OUT OF his house and having company other than his dog was worth the effort of showering, shaving and putting on clean clothes. Seeing Nicole across the bar was a bonus. When Tony, Ethan, Charlie and Tyler stopped by his house and wouldn’t take no for an answer, Kevin cleaned himself up, agreeing to a night at the Cape Pursuit Bar & Grill. It was Thursday, their usual time to blow off steam. The previous Thursday Kevin hadn’t felt like talking. Now that more than a week had gone by since the drowning, he was ready to put it in perspective over
a glass of whatever was on draft.
Tyler sat next to Kevin. “How are you doing?”
“Fine,” Kevin said.
“Ankle better?”
“Yep.”
“Good,” Ethan said. “We’re tired of covering for your butt at work. About time you pulled on your pants and showed up.” Ethan slid a glass of beer across the table to Kevin as he spoke, his smile showing he didn’t mean any harm.
“You’re buying, right?” Tony asked.
“Sure,” Kevin said. “Any excitement at the station this week?”
Tyler shrugged. “Lots of minor runs. Little stuff. Smoke alarm at the Marriott, Dumpster fire at the Holiday Inn.”
“Bunch of squad calls,” Tony added. “Usual stuff. And some tourists tangled in their rental cars. None of those guys ever look where they’re going.”
“So I haven’t missed much.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” Ethan said. “Chief’s getting worked up about the big party in August.” The other three men glanced at Tony. The chief was his father.
“Go ahead and say it. I know what he’s like.”
As Kevin had mentioned to Nicole, the Cape Pursuit Fire Department one hundredth birthday was coming up—one hundred years since they officially put out their first fire with a steamer truck and four volunteers. Coinciding with the Cape Pursuit Homecoming Festival, they were planning a big celebration and open house in August, and Chief Ruggles had become a bridezilla planning the reception.
“Chief misses you,” Tyler said. “I think I saw him wearing your cleaning apron the other day.”
“Screw you,” Kevin grumbled.
“This week we cleaned out the squad room and the equipment locker. He’s talking about having the carpet in the meeting room professionally cleaned. Now he wants us to repaint the whole interior, bays and all,” Ethan said.
“When are you coming back?” Tony asked.
“Couple of days.”
“Good. We’ll save the painting for you. I’ll tell Dad you volunteered and it’s some kind of light duty transition period for you.”