Braving the Heat

Home > Romance > Braving the Heat > Page 19
Braving the Heat Page 19

by Regan Black


  Though the police had questioned Murtagh about the nasty messages spray painted across the firehouse, he hadn’t been arrested. Grant had learned Murtagh had an alibi. Kenzie appreciated having such great support, but she wanted her life back.

  She wouldn’t put it past the craggy old man to have paid a couple kids to tag the firehouse for him. The one person caught on camera moved better than she’d ever seen Murtagh move. Then again, he’d shown some strength and quick reflexes that night at the club when he’d been proving his point that she was too weak to handle trouble.

  Which was the act and which was real?

  “Are you coming by the club tonight?” she asked, as she traded her boots for her flip-flops.

  Stephen stepped back from the brake job in front of him, scowling at the rotor. “We’ll see.”

  She knew that look by now. He’d found something that insulted his mechanic’s heart.

  “Want me to check for parts?” she offered. “I have some time.”

  He made a noise she didn’t worry about interpreting. “I’ll do it,” he said.

  Working beside him for these two weeks, she’d come to understand how his brain sifted information. He was a genius with engines, with everything a car could throw at him, really, and he did superb, thorough work. Her father would have happily spent hours in this garage beside Stephen, sorting out problems and solutions.

  Strange that it took her this long to get interested in a man she believed her father would have approved of. More than that, he would have found a kindred spirit in Stephen. Too bad she couldn’t figure out if she had a chance of actually dating him.

  She walked out to the camper before she said something she might regret, something that might put him on the defensive. They weren’t exactly walking on eggshells around each other since the night the civil suit had been dismissed, but neither of them seemed to know what to do with the other.

  Well, she had some ideas she would happily have employed if she could figure out if Stephen wanted to go down that path.

  Maybe she had crossed a line, though he’d started it, asking about her braid. And she hadn’t been alone as they’d steamrolled right through that friendship boundary. Stephen had been right there with her, through every kiss and touch. Until the morning after, when she’d woken up alone. Other than that one tender kiss and countless thoughtful gestures, he seemed to prefer ignoring the event altogether.

  Since she’d gone back to the PFD, they’d settled into this weird routine of friendly camaraderie with an undercurrent of sexual tension that kept her on edge. Stephen was too stoic to give her any idea what he was feeling. Other than distant.

  The situation was something she should sort out with a sister or girlfriend, except she didn’t have one of those handy at the moment. It wasn’t a discussion she wanted to have over the phone with her mom, who was worried enough about her already. And it wasn’t a discussion she felt comfortable having with Julia, his sister-in-law.

  In the camper, she pulled all the shades down. It was a paranoid move, yet she couldn’t stop herself. The media was still seeking a comment from her about the cyberbully who’d targeted her. Despite the security around Stephen’s garage, she struggled against a persistent sense of dread.

  “Anyone would,” she told her reflection as she tied the end of her braid. “The jerk only wins if you let him.”

  Once Murtagh had perjured himself in the civil case, public opinion had turned on him. Even without solid proof, she got the feeling the man had no intention of letting up. He’d been cagey about it, but she knew deep down in her gut he was responsible for every attempt to embarrass her and the department.

  As much as she wanted to ignore Murtagh, her mind kept trying to figure out what he hoped to gain. It was like trying to find the source of an errant rattle in a car frame.

  She glanced at the wedding invitation she’d tucked into her makeup case. On July 4 Daniel Jennings would marry Shannon Nolan and have an instant family with her young son, Aiden.

  Kenzie remembered how fast and hard he’d fallen for both the woman and her little boy. Actually, Aiden had won over everyone on his very first visit to the firehouse. The wedding would be amazing and she wanted to go celebrate such a wonderful milestone with friends who were as close as family.

  Weeks ago, she’d responded that she’d be attending the ceremony and reception alone. Daniel had made it clear on her first shift back that she could bring a date. Everyone in their circles knew she’d been staying with Stephen since her apartment closed. Clearly, speculation about them was gaining traction.

  It wasn’t a surprise. In her community people cared about each other. People knew Stephen as the son of a firefighter and older brother of another. They also knew Stephen had become morose and withdrawn since his fiancée’s murder. Him letting Kenzie live with him and helping her at every opportunity was raising all kinds of eyebrows.

  If she asked him to go with her to the wedding, would that hurt him more than it helped her?

  Silly to get too wound up about it before she’d even asked him. Tying her sneakers, she grabbed her backpack and keys. If she didn’t get moving she’d be late and that wasn’t who she was. Dressed in her Escape Club uniform, she headed back to the garage to tell Stephen she was leaving.

  And ask him to go with her to a wedding.

  Chapter 10

  In the garage, Stephen dropped the phone back on the cradle and glanced up to see Kenzie dressed for her waitressing shift at the club. Things had been a little awkward, at least on his side, since they’d slept together. Natural, basic needs, he reminded himself. They were consenting adults and clearly compatible in and out of bed. Still, he should probably make time to talk about it. Maybe she’d be open to...what?

  Although it felt wrong to suggest they hook up whenever the mood struck, he believed sex could remain a fun distraction for them both, as long as they weren’t adding in elements of a relationship. He liked Kenzie; he just couldn’t go down that road again. She might understand if he found the guts and the right words to explain it.

  So why did he keep hesitating?

  “You okay?” she asked, her head tipped to the side.

  “Lost in thought,” he said, patting himself on the back for the clear communication. “You’re closing tonight?”

  “Hmm? Yes.” Her gaze darted around the office. “Are you heading out, too?”

  “They need a wrecker on the Schuylkill Expressway. Big accident.”

  “Is the vehicle coming back here?”

  “Not from the sound of it,” he replied.

  “All right,” she said. “Be safe.”

  With everything going on, those two words had become their form of saying goodbye.

  “Thanks. You, too.” Should he kiss her? He wanted to, had been missing her lips, the soft curve of her cheek under his palm. The last time they’d kissed was after the dinner he’d arranged with Mitch and Julia. Good grief, with Kenzie around, he felt more like an insecure teenager than a capable adult. If he asked a friend for advice he’d only be setting himself up for those subtle, hopeful glances that silently asked if he was finally moving on with his life.

  “Ah, one quick question,” she said, trailing him out of the office. “Daniel Jennings is getting married on Sunday.”

  Stephen paused. Whatever he’d hoped she might say, that wasn’t it. “They’re getting married on the Fourth?”

  His fiancée had been gone three years and still weddings creeped him out. Mitch’s wedding had been the only invitation he’d accepted in all that time. Thankfully, his brother had put the best man duties at the reception on their younger brother’s shoulders.

  “Would you go with me?” She stepped closer as the words tumbled out in a rush. “I know it’s July Fourth and last-minute, but with Murtagh skulking around, I really don’t want to drive out there alone. Mitch
offered to let me ride with them, but I’d rather not if I can avoid it. If you’re willing that is. Please?”

  When she seemed to run out of words, or oxygen, she stared at him, her blue eyes wide and hopeful and her lips clamped together. How, exactly, was he supposed to say no when she looked at him that way? He doubted any man with a pulse could resist that appeal.

  “You just want me to drive you over?” Please just need a driver, he thought.

  “Well, I was hoping you’d stick around as my plus one.”

  “As...as your date?” He couldn’t remember the last time he’d let a woman ask him out. He stared at her, wondering what she was thinking. Being flattered and confused was his problem.

  “Would that be so terrible for you?” she asked.

  He pulled himself together. Another woman might have posed the same question like a cornered cat, hoping to save face. Not Kenzie. She was genuinely concerned that he couldn’t handle it.

  “I’ll take you.” He told himself it was simply to erase that furrow of worry between her golden eyebrows.

  Relief washed over her face and she bounced a little on her toes. “Thanks so much. We don’t have to stay long—”

  “It’s fine.” He felt his lips curve as he watched her. “We should both get going.”

  “Right.” She started forward, then rocked back on her heels. “I’ll just, um, go now.”

  He gave in to all that sweet, fiery energy bubbling from her and luring him in. Reaching out, he caught her elbow, drawing her back so he could press a quick kiss to her lips.

  A jolt like heat lightning speared through his system and he took the kiss deeper. When he released her, a dazzled smile spread slowly across her face. Yeah, that’s what they both needed, an affirmation of this desire thundering like a distant storm.

  “Be safe,” he reminded her. They walked out and he hit the gate for her to leave ahead of him as he climbed into the cab of the tow truck.

  Given a choice, he’d follow her to the club first, but he was needed at the accident site and trailing her would only undermine her fragile independence.

  He could see Murtagh’s sneaky antics were taking a toll on her. Although nothing new had happened for almost forty-eight hours, everyone was on edge, anticipating who knew what. The man hadn’t done anything sensible since she’d pulled him out of that fire.

  Stephen wished there was a more direct solution that would allow Kenzie to get her life back on track. In a perfect world, she’d never be out of his sight until the police had Murtagh contained. Hardly a perfect solution, as it would make them both crazy. She had too much energy to be cooped up even in a place as busy as his garage. And he was used to being alone, coming and going as he pleased without any concern for anyone else.

  It surprised him to realize he was going to miss her when she eventually went back to her place. That was for the best, he reminded himself. He wasn’t the man she needed. He wasn’t the man any woman needed. His business and family were plenty of life for him.

  Once Kenzie left he could get back to honoring Annabeth’s memory by keeping an eye on the community center. He thought of those pictures of Kenzie with the bartender that been plastered on social media sites with derogatory comments. Subtract the nasty side of it and Stephen could see them together. A guy like that, outgoing and friendly, suited her better than Stephen ever could.

  So why did he feel anger bubbling by the time he caught up to the traffic jam near the accident site? He had no right to be possessive or jealous over her. They were a couple of people riding out a tough situation. Better to keep it at that.

  He liked her because she was a great person. End of story. She knew her cars inside and out, which was as fun as hell. They worked well together, which was rare for him. She tolerated his music, didn’t try to talk constantly, and when she had something to say, she said it clearly.

  He enjoyed doing things for her. She was always so pleased and a little surprised. So what if he hadn’t done those things for anyone in three years? She deserved it, the way she did so much for others, including him.

  She was beautiful and sexy with all those subtle curves. That laugh. He felt himself grinning just thinking about her. Man, he never got tired of that sound. His hand flexed as he recalled that quiet triumph when he’d finally got that braid loose. He could weave his fingers through her hair all night. Would she like that?

  He was relieved when the police guided him around the stopped cars to the wreck. Stephen swallowed hard, trying to ignore the signs of lives forever changed. Three cars and an 18-wheeler were crumpled as if a giant had thrown a tantrum. He could avert his eyes from the blood on the shattered windshield of a sedan, but the scorched metal and recently extinguished gasoline fire assaulted his nostrils.

  One fire truck pulled away as Stephen positioned the tow truck to collect a minivan the same color as Megan’s. It had been crumpled like an accordion. It wasn’t her car, he knew it wasn’t, yet his heart hammered in his chest at the sight of a child seat in the second row.

  One of the police officers on the scene was Bob Greely, an old friend from the neighborhood. “Did anyone make it out?” Stephen asked him when he walked over to say hello.

  “Only the one fatality,” Bob replied. He aimed his chin toward the 18-wheeler. “According to witnesses, the idiot on the bike was zipping in and out of traffic and misjudged the cutback in front of the semi.”

  Stephen hadn’t noticed the motorcycle wedged into the front wheel well of the truck’s cab. “Damn.”

  “Guy wasn’t wearing a helmet, didn’t stand a chance when he was thrown clear.” Bob shook his head. “I think the others will all survive, though there were some serious injuries.”

  “Good to know.”

  Stephen hooked up the minivan and secured it on the bed. “I’ve got room for the sedan if you want,” he offered.

  “That would help. Everything’s going to evidence first,” Bob said. “You know the address.”

  He dropped plenty of cars at the evidence lot.

  “Thanks, man.” Bob came to the door as Stephen climbed up into the cab. “Hey, is that Kenzie Hughes really staying with you?”

  “She is.” Stephen braced himself, determined to keep his cool no matter what Bob said next.

  “Good. I saw some of that crap on the news. Your security is tighter than Fort Knox, and sounds like she needs it.”

  Stephen paused. “What do you mean?”

  “Just having a rough time, is all.”

  “Yeah.” For a minute Stephen had hoped Bob might know something more “Can’t the cops do anything about Murtagh?”

  “Not my beat, but you know we try to watch out for our own. Can’t believe he went after her that way with the interviews and the, ah, other stuff.”

  Based on his reddening face, apparently Bob thought the pictures were real. Stephen bristled, barely suppressing the urge to explain that the steamy nude shower photos plastered on the internet weren’t actually Kenzie. It wasn’t Bob’s business. Technically, it wasn’t Stephen’s business either, and he needed to remember that.

  He drove over and loaded up the sedan, then maneuvered out of the area, waiting patiently for the state troopers to make room for him to join the flow of traffic.

  He used the voice command to dial Megan’s number. Her husband answered, and in the background he could hear his sister and the kids playing. It set his mind at ease and loosened the ache around his heart. He managed some small talk for a minute or two and then ended the call. That was something his family would surely analyze and dissect over Sunday dinner.

  He was kind of glad he would be at the wedding so he wouldn’t be there to hear it.

  While he was behaving oddly, he went ahead and called his mom to let her know why they wouldn’t be at dinner. He intended to keep the conversation short and to the point, but her answer derailed his
plan.

  “Stephen, is Kenzie all right?” she said, as soon as she picked up.

  A cold lump formed in Stephen’s gut. “As far as I know. Why?” He checked the clock; she’d left for the club two hours ago. If she hadn’t arrived, Grant would have called.

  “Reporters are all over the pier. Down near the Escape Club,” Myra said.

  They always were, Stephen thought darkly. It seemed the media was determined to make Kenzie lose her cool. As if being a woman plagued by a bitter old man was somehow her fault.

  “The club was evacuated due to a bomb threat,” his mom announced.

  “Murtagh.”

  “That’s what your father said,” Myra agreed. “It’s too early for any proof. The fire department and police are still assessing the scene.”

  “I’ll head that way as soon as I can,” Stephen said.

  “There’s more. Murtagh confronted Kenzie outside, during the evacuation. With so many reporters around, it was all on camera and quite ugly.”

  “What the hell?” Why hadn’t anyone called him?

  “Grant stepped in, and others, too. Murtagh hasn’t left yet. Preening for the cameras, trying to claim he’s the victim again, being accused of things he didn’t do online.”

  “Shouldn’t they be covering the bomb threat instead of pandering to his agenda?”

  “You’d think so,” his mother agreed.

  At this rate the man would cost Kenzie her job. What Stephen wouldn’t give for another big drug bust or major car theft, anything to shift attention from Murtagh’s campaign against Kenzie. In his mind Stephen entertained violent, satisfying attacks on Murtagh that he’d never be able to carry out in reality. It took the leading edge off his temper.

  “If you go down there, be careful.”

  “If? I can’t leave her to deal with this alone.” Someone should have called him. He was supposed to be protecting her.

 

‹ Prev