Set the Night on Fire

by Jennifer Bernard

  Someone else might want to use her or count her as an especially gorgeous notch on his belt. He, on the other hand, would devote himself one hundred percent to making this the best experience possible.

  Even though he couldn’t offer her stability, a family, permanence, or any of the other things girls usually wanted, he could do one important thing for her.

  He could take care of her in bed.

  12

  In her dream, Sean was braced over her, kissing her, every stroke of his tongue setting her on fire. She moaned against his mouth, “I want you, I want to be naked with you.” She arched her back and pressed her nipples against his hard chest, and suddenly she realized she was naked. So was Sean. Naked and breathtaking. His chest rippled with muscle as he bent his dark head to her breasts. He swiped his tongue in delicious circles around her nipples. Teasing, tugging. The pleasure was so intense she actually heard bells ring.

  They rang again. And again.

  Evie’s eyes popped open. Her phone was ringing. She lay face down on her bed, in a tangled mess of her favorite goose down comforter, alone. Unfortunately, she remembered every detail of what had happened the night before.

  She’d thrown herself at Sean and he’d nearly rejected her. But then he’d changed his mind and said yes to her request…offer…proposal…whatever you wanted to call it. But not last night. Apparently trading a bottle of wine back and forth had triggered his protective male impulses. He’d carried her into bed, tucked her in and left. Now he was probably calling to check on her—that protective male thing again.

  Not that she minded.

  She snatched up the phone and answered. “Begging for another chance?”

  “Oooh, that sounds juicy!” Merry answered her, not Sean. “My reporter’s Spidey sense is going off. Who wants another chance? At what? Why and when?”

  Evie rolled onto her back. “It’s way too early for an interrogation. What time is it?”

  “Time to face the world, chickie. I’m calling on the down-low to give you a heads-up on something.”

  For a blissful moment, Evie had forgotten about the rest of her evening. Now it all came back. Brad. Their dinner. The way she’d fled from the Seaview Inn. “Does this have anything to do with Brad White?”

  “Yup. I don’t know the details, but apparently he’s going to write an op-ed that will appear in tomorrow’s paper.”

  The Mercury News-Gazette came out once a week, on Thursdays. Everyone in town read it, either in its paper or online version. The Gazette had already given its endorsement to Brad’s candidacy. Then again, so had everyone else in town.

  Everyone except Evie, whose stomach was now tying itself into knots. “What does the op-ed say?”

  “I don’t know that. But it’s definitely about his campaign, and I heard a rumor that he’s going to mention you. I just thought you might want to know.”

  “Thanks, Merry.” Evie swung her legs out of bed. That dream had been so real. And so wonderful. If only she could stay in that world.

  But she couldn’t. She had to get dressed and get to work. Face the fallout from her disastrous dinner with Brad.

  “You know,” Merry was saying, “you could do the same thing that Brad’s doing.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Look, girl. Something’s going on here. Brad’s an ambitious man and right now you’re standing in his way. That just isn’t like you.”

  Wow, did everyone in town see her as such a pushover?

  “I admit that conflict is not my comfort zone.” Feeling slightly queasy, she carried the phone to her closet and scanned her selection of blouses. And really, why were all her clothes cream or slate or shades of beige? Her head pounded. “But what are you suggesting?”

  “I feel like you should fight back or you’re going to get buried. You can write an opinion piece about why you haven’t endorsed Brad. You could tell your side of the story. Opposing opinion pieces always get attention. The deadline is three o’clock, so you have plenty of time to get it done.”

  Tell her story…opposing opinion pieces…oh God. Everything would be out in the open. Nausea suddenly hit her hard. She ran to the bathroom and bent over the toilet, stomach heaving. Wine definitely didn’t combine well with anxiety.

  “Evie? You okay?” She heard Merry still talking on the other end of the phone.

  “Yeah. Sorry. I had a little too much wine last night, I think.”

  “Hot shower, plenty of water, and my special hangover cure. Horseradish by the spoonful,” said Merry kindly.

  She almost retched again at the sound of that. “That’s the most disgusting thing I can imagine eating right now.”

  “That’s from my grandmama down in Louisiana. So, what do you think, Evie? If you don’t want to do an op-ed, maybe I can just interview you. You’re going to have to say something sometime.”

  “I know. I know.” Evie put the phone down on the bathroom counter and splashed water on her face. “God, this is crazy. I don’t know how I got into this mess.”

  “I want to help, Evie. I really do.”

  She opened her medicine cabinet and fumbled for a bottle of aspirin. No way was she going to talk about Brad with a hangover. “Let’s see what he writes in his article. Maybe it has nothing to do with me. I’m sure he has other things to worry about besides the JPBC endorsement.”

  “Have it your way,” Merry said dubiously. “But I’m here if you need me. Either as a friend or as a reporter. Whatever you need. I’ll stop by the gallery later.”

  “Thank you, Merry.”

  Evie clicked off the phone. She went back to her closet and stared at her array of boring blouses. She thought about the rumors flying, the talk gathering. Mrs. Murphy was probably already hovering outside the gallery ready to pounce. Jack Drummond would be next, demanding to know what her plan was.

  Screw it. She was calling in sick. The gallery could live without her for a day.

  Her phone rang again. This time it was Sean—protective male impulses and all.

  “How are you feeling?” The immediacy of his molasses-over-gravel voice made it seem as if was in the room with her. Goosebumps rose on her skin.

  “Oh, nothing a little horseradish can’t cure.”

  He coughed. “I’m not even going to ask.”

  She smiled, feeling better than she had since she’d been dragged out of her dream. She was starting to think Sean had that effect on her, as if he turned up the light in any given room. “What are you doing today?” she asked on impulse.

  “I’m interviewing some local applicants for the crew. Two people are coming in this morning. Why?”

  “Well…I’m taking the day off from work. I thought you might want to do something.”

  “Something?” His tone was the verbal equivalent of a raised eyebrow.

  “Yeah, something. Don’t make it sound so nefarious.”

  “I was aiming for lascivious.”

  She laughed…actually laughed, even though half an hour ago she’d been on the verge of throwing up. It was amazing how Sean made her feel alive and sort of fizzy—even over the phone.

  “Speaking of which…” He dropped his voice into a lower register that made her stomach clench with desire. “How…uh…how are you feeling about last night?”

  She drew in a deep breath. If she wanted to back out, this would be the best time. She could pretend she didn’t remember, or blame it all on the wine. That would definitely be the best thing to do, because getting involved with Sean Marcus was such a bad, terrible, crazy idea. He’d told her so himself. He was a bad bet for a relationship.

  “If you’re asking if I remember it, yes, I do,” she said.

  “And?”

  “If you’re asking if I regret it, no, I don’t.”

  “Just to be clear, you still want to—”

  “Yes,” she said quickly. No need to say it out loud. “I still feel the same way. If you do, I mean. Scratch that. I still feel the same way and I hope you do to
o.”

  Silence followed. Evie died a thousand deaths during those few moments. “Sean?”

  “Sorry.” He came back on the line, sounding rushed. “My first interview is here. What about when I’m done? If you’re still free later, do you want to go reclaim your—”

  “No! Yes!” Beet red, she dug the heel of her hand into her forehead. Then she heard Sean’s soft chuckle. He was probably trying to relax her, to get rid of her nerves. “You’re an idiot.”

  “An idiot, but a lucky one. I’m glad you haven’t changed your mind, Evie. I’ll pick you up when I’m done with my interviews.”

  When she hung up, Evie felt as if she’d downed an entire pot of coffee and her head didn’t hurt at all. How did Sean do that? He must have magical powers. He was better than horseradish.

  * * *

  When Sean asked Josh to hold down the fort while he “took care of some details in town,” the other firefighter laughed in his face. “Do these details have the initials E.M.? Are these details the ones you’re supposed to stay the hell away from?”

  “Leave it alone, Marsh.” Sean tried to step past him, but Josh blocked his path to the truck.

  “The thing is, I can’t. How many times does a thirty-one-year-old guy get to be superintendent in charge of setting up a new crew? Evie’s cool, but she’s a distraction. I don’t want you to blow this.”

  “I can handle my own shit.”

  “I’m just looking out for you, man. Think of it like this. She’s the fire, and I’m the one cutting line to keep you from getting burned.”

  “Would you get out of my way? I’m not going to do anything stupid.”

  Josh reluctantly backed away, and Sean spent the drive into town telling himself his friend was right and he should rethink this thing with Evie.

  His willpower vanished the instant he laid eyes on her. Before he could exit his car, she came running down the steps wearing denim shorts and a blue-and-white-striped shirt. She was barefoot, but a pair of hiking shoes tied together by their laces hung from her backpack. Her hair bounced over her shoulders and her wide smile was brighter than the afternoon sunshine.

  If Josh was right, and Evie was the wildfire—bring it on.

  “You look like you have a plan,” he said, eyeing her backpack as she slipped into the passenger seat.

  “Yes, I actually have kind of a special request for you. Unless you have something else in mind?”

  “Nope. Whatever you command, milady.”

  “You said that before. That word ‘milady.’ I have to say that it totally works for me.”

  “Good to know.”

  She shot him a look. “Are you okay?”

  “Yup. A-okay.” God, that sounded fake. He wasn’t really okay. He was wondering what the fuck was wrong with him and why he had no willpower around her. “So where are we going?”

  She placed her backpack on her lap and stretched out her legs. Her long, shapely, smooth-skinned legs. He dragged his gaze away and turned the key in the ignition. Driving While Ogling—not a good plan.

  Well…” She hesitated, giving him a cautious glance. “It’s for my mother.”

  “Evie, why would you even hesitate? I’ll do anything your mother needs. I wasn’t sure if I’d be welcome, after the way I left. But I’d like to visit her.”

  “Really?” The way her face lit up made him feel like an ass. He should have paid a visit as soon as he got to town. “She’d like that. But she’s…well, she has a pretty advanced case of Parkinson’s. She doesn’t like to go out anymore. So I take photos of her favorite places. That way she can see what flowers are blooming and if any swallows are nesting yet and what kind of pie Mary Lou is serving today. That sort of thing.”

  His heart gave a weird little skip. He remembered how she used to chatter on about photographing the Himalayas and Bali and places like that. Instead, she’d stayed in Jupiter Point to take photos for her mother. That was Evie in a nutshell.

  After a short moment to control his emotion, he cleared his throat. “So what’s the special request? What do you need from me?“

  She hesitated, fiddling with the strap of her backpack, as the tidy little houses of Jupiter Point flashed past. “Her favorite place of all is the old airfield,” she finally admitted. “She used to go out there to sketch when your parents owned it. She said the view is one of the nicest in town. But now it has ‘no trespassing’ signs all over it. I’ve stayed away, but now that you’re here, and I can request access in person…” She offered him a smile that was half-apology, half-plea. “But I understand if you’d rather go somewhere else.”

  He looked at her curiously as he turned the pickup toward the road that led to the airstrip. “Of course I don’t mind. Why would you think that? Are you worried I couldn’t handle going back there?”

  “I wasn’t sure.” Air from the open window whipped strands of her silky hair against her cheek. She tried to tuck them behind her ear, but they kept rebelling. “I mean, come on. You’re talking to the woman who practically had a nervous breakdown at the thought of dinner with Brad. I’m not exactly a pro when it comes to facing difficult things. I mean, look at me. I’m playing hooky so I don’t have to face all the questions everyone has. I suck at confronting things.”

  He laughed. “The first step is admitting it.”

  “Fine. I admit it. There.” She pursed her lips, which made him want to kiss her right then and there. “Maybe I’m hoping a little of your fearlessness will rub off on me.”

  “You think I’m fearless?”

  “Yes, look at you.” She waved a hand in his direction. “You’re strong and fearless. You confront things all the time. Wildfires, for instance. You confronted Brad. You confronted the whole world after you left Jupiter Point.”

  They’d reached the outskirts of town, where houses gave way to the first gentle slopes of the foothills. Through the open window, he smelled the salt-wildflower-pine combination that always made him think of Jupiter Point. “I wouldn’t put it that way.”

  “Really?” She shifted her position, propping her back against the door so she could look at him directly. “What did you do when you left? We were never sure.”

  He nearly laughed out loud. After thirteen years of never thinking about that time, he’d been asked about it twice in just a few days. “Funny, Chief Becker was asking me the same thing the other day. I went camping in the mountains.”

  Strangely, Evie didn’t seem surprised. “Hunter thought you might have done that. He wanted to go after you, but the Dean said no. How long did you camp out?”

  “Until winter.”

  “Until winter? That must have been over a month. Were you terribly lonely?”

  “No. I had a lot of shit to work out. I figured it was better if I did it without people around. I did a lot of staring up at the stars and crying and ranting at my father and fate and everything else. I stayed away from campgrounds. I didn’t want to be around anyone.”

  She touched his forearm in comfort, and he felt his muscles tense at her touch. Talking about that time brought back visceral memories. The burn in his thighs from running up mountain trails. The icy streams he dove into for relief. The spookiness of moonless nights. The profound peace he experienced while watching a white-tailed deer graze in a clearing.

  “Honestly, the Sierras might have saved my sanity. When I came back out, I felt like I could breathe again.”

  “Wow,” she said softly. “That’s an incredible story.”

  “I guess so, until I woke up one morning to a foot of snow outside my tent.” He laughed at the memory of that moment. A foot of snow, boots falling apart. He’d even run out of the beef jerky he’d been living on. Yet another impossible situation.

  “What did you do then?” The fascination in Evie’s voice made him wonder why he didn’t tell this story more often. Normally he didn’t talk much about himself. He liked action, not talk. But with Evie, everything was different.

  “I hiked down to a lower
elevation and found a campground that had fire pits. But my matches were all wet and I’d lost my lighter. I went around the campground looking for someone to borrow matches from. I ran into a bunch of guys grilling trout they’d caught in the river. They turned out to be a crew of smokejumpers on an end-of-season campout. They pulled up a camp chair for me and let me dry my stuff by their fire. I hung out with them the rest of the week and listened to all their smoke-jumping stories.” He shook his head. “Damn, Evie, you really know how to get a guy talking.”

  “Don’t stop yet! I want to hear what happened next. ‘Whatever you command, milady.’ remember?”

  “You, milady,” he told her, “are big trouble.”

  “Yes, but didn’t you say you don’t mind trouble? Now keep going, please. Is that why you became a firefighter, because of those smokejumpers?”

  “Yup. They were cool guys. They all had different lives during the off season. One was a documentary filmmaker, another was training for an Iron Man race. One of them traveled someplace different every winter. But they all came back to the smoke-jumping job every summer because they loved it and it paid well. By the time they’d packed up to head home, I knew I wanted to be one of them.”

  Evie laughed. “It’s funny how things work out, isn’t it? You ran into exactly the right people at the right time. What if they’d been accountants or encyclopedia salesmen? Oh, look!” She pointed up ahead, to where the ocean shimmered just beyond the airstrip. “There’s your place.”

  13

  Time spent with Sean passed differently than time spent with other people. It zipped by so fast, Evie barely noticed. She’d been so caught up in his story that before she knew it, they were bumping down a back road shortcut to the airstrip. Every time she looked at Sean, with his dark hair all tumbled and sexy, the planes of his face so ruggedly appealing, her heart skipped a few beats. His broad shoulders kept brushing against hers. His energy was so dynamically masculine. Really, he made every other man seem kind of…boring.