Fire & Ice

by Jerri Drennen

  “Who is he?” Kay asked again, practically drooling on the painting Melanie still didn’t know why she had started. Though needing a dartboard came to mind.

  “Knox Manning. He’s a fire investigator. He thinks I set Dean‘s house ablaze.”

  Kay’s jaw dropped. “What? Why would he think that?”

  Melanie shrugged. “According to Mr. Manning, one of my fliers was found in the house.”

  “Does he know about the fire twelve years ago? Or the fact that you were dating Dean?”

  Melanie swallowed hard. “No! At least I hope he doesn’t. I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Let's drop it!”

  “Okay, okay. Don’t get your panties in a wad. He is gorgeous though. I’d definitely do him.”

  Melanie just shook her head. Kay would do anyone with the right plumbing.

  “I know what you’re thinking.” Kay waggled a finger in warning. “So I like sex. Does that make me bad? I can’t go for years without it. Greg Spears was the last man you slept with. That was what—two years ago? You know what they say, don’t you?”

  Melanie knew whatever her friend said, it’d be of a sexual nature. The woman was a man in a skirt. “No, what’s that?”

  Kay grinned. “Use it or lose it. You’d need a map by now to find yours.”

  “Hah, funny.”

  “Hey, you never did answer my first question.”

  Melanie had always been amazed at how fast her friend’s mind changed gears. “No, I don’t have his number,” Melanie said, wiping paint from her hands onto a rag she picked up.

  “I didn’t ask that, though I should have. I asked if you’d eaten. You look peaked.”

  Why shouldn’t she look pale? She’d practically been accused of arson. That would make anyone a little sick. “No, though food does sound good. Let me get cleaned up and we’ll go out for lunch.”

  “Sounds great. I’ll just wait here and stare at Mr. Fireman. Hey, Mel, you think he has a big hose?”

  Melanie rolled her eyes and left the room without answering.

  What size hose Knox Manning had was the farthest thing from her mind. He wasn’t getting within a hundred feet of her hydrant anyway.

  * * *

  Knox finished his last set of repetitions. He set the weights down and grabbed his towel. On the way to the showers, he wiped the sweat from his brow.

  “Hey, Knox.” Brent James stopped him just as he entered the firehouse locker room.

  “What’s up?”

  “A few of us are headed to O’Malley’s for a late lunch. You want to join us?”

  “I need to take a quick shower. How about I meet you there?”

  “Sounds great. See you in a few.”

  Knox watched Brent leave, then went to his locker and undressed. He wrapped a towel around his waist on his way to the shower.

  Once in the stall, he hung the towel behind him on a hook and ducked under the spray. The instant the hot water coursed over his body, Melanie Sharp’s paint-laden face popped into his mind.

  He grimaced at the memory. What was going on with him? Why her? She was not his idea of attractive, though ever since their eyes met two days ago she'd haunted him.

  Lathering up his chest and shoulders, Knox tried to extinguish her from his thoughts, yet failed. The woman had nothing that appealed to him. So…maybe that wasn’t entirely true. She had a pair of powder blue eyes that seemed in some way lost.

  Lost or not, he wasn't interested in her in a physical way. All he wanted was to find the truth. To do his job. Period. If she’d started the fire on Summerset, he’d see that she paid for it.

  He finished his shower and dressed quickly. He had to hurry to O’Malley’s before the guys gave up on him and ordered.

  Outside the pub, a strange vibe hit him. Knox pushed it aside as he entered through the back door.

  Loud, easy listening music played from somewhere above his head. The smell of hops and beef mingled in the air, stirring his appetite.

  O’Malley’s was the 901’s favorite hangout. They’d come in to eat and have a few beers to unwind after a grueling shift.

  Knox spotted the crew at a large table in the middle of the room and headed their way, the tingling he’d experienced outside getting stronger. What the hell was the sensation? He’d never felt anything like it before.

  He glanced around the pub, his gaze landing on a blonde who eyed him with interest. He didn’t recognize her though she stared at him as if she knew him, her eyes raking his body as if she’d seen him naked.

  He swallowed, shifting his attention to the redhead sitting with her, her back to him. She laughed at something the blonde said, causing the strange tingling to race up his arm like a flash fire across dry grass.

  There was something familiar about it.

  “Hey, Knox, over here,” Brent hollered, waving to him.

  The redhead turned. Knox saw the powder blue gaze, connected to a face that he would have never recognized if not for those eyes. Melanie Sharp. Paintless. In no way breathtaking. Cute, in an unconventional way. She had a nice peaches and cream complexion—one that was enhanced by red, shoulder-length hair. She wore a hot pink, short-sleeved flouncy top and a pair of blue jeans. For an instant, Knox would have given his shirt to see how her ass looked in them.

  “Knox?” Brent called from behind him. “You know them?”

  Knox turned to Brent.

  “We’ve been trying to get their attention since we got here. You walk in and manage to turn both their heads. Though I’d say the redhead doesn’t like what she sees. That’s some nasty scowl she’s sending your way. She’s not an ex is she?”

  Knox returned his attention to Melanie’s table. The look she sent his way could’ve frozen a five-alarm blaze on a one hundred degree day.

  He smiled at her and went to take a seat with the crew. Let her give him dirty looks. He didn’t give a shit. She was no one to him besides a suspect in an arson case anyway.

  “Did you see the blonde? Damn. Talk about a nice pair of pumpers. I’d like to forward lay her,” Brent said, sending the guys into fits of laughter.

  Both Melanie and her friend stared at them.

  The intense glare Melanie gave Knox iced his blood. Even the chief himself hadn’t intimidated him as much as this skinny, blue-eyed woman.

  He averted his gaze, aware that the tingling had taken control of his entire body, his nerves endings vibrating like a cheap, coin-operated bed.

  Damn. What the hell was happening to him? Why did this one woman cause such a strange humming in his body, and how did he make it stop?

  “What do you think of the little redhead?” Mike Dryer, another one of his friends asked, nudging Knox in the side.

  “She’s okay.” He didn’t bother to look at her. Afraid the hum would turn to a full-blown quake.

  “She’s cute, though a little small on the top for my tastes,” Brent said. Knox caught where the man’s attention lay—on Melanie's chest—and he felt as if he’d been punched in the gut.

  Hell, why did it matter if Brent checked her out? They did it all the time, always talking smack about women—comparing notes. He didn’t even like Melanie Sharp, so why should he care what his friend said about her tits, small as they were. She looked like a prepubescent girl. Not even a handful that he saw. Knox had always been a breast man. Drawn to women with large boobs. Real or man-made. He didn't care. Melanie definitely didn’t have enough to accommodate him. Superficial, yet that’s what he was drawn to.

  He glanced at Melanie again, who still watched him.

  Their eyes met and held.

  Knox’s heart began its steady acceleration while sweat formed on his upper lip. No matter how hard he tried, he found it impossible to look away.

  “Knox, you okay? Knox?” Brent tapped his shoulder and pulled him out of the trance. He shook his head, trying to clear it.

  Something strange was happening between him and this woman. What, he wasn’t sure, though it wasn’t attraction.
That was impossible. She wasn’t anywhere near his image of the perfect woman, if there was such a thing.

  * * *

  Melanie struggled to breathe. Why did a man who wanted to send her up the river cause her heart to skip like a stone across the water’s surface?

  He was a Neanderthal, big and brawny, with muscles to spare. She’d bet the farm he had no brain in that gorgeous head of his.

  Their first and last conversation played back in her mind. ‘So you’re an artist?’ Duh! How obvious did something have to be?

  Kay touched Melanie's hand from across the table. “Melanie, he’s watching you.”

  “Yeah, he’s hoping to put me away.”

  “I don’t think so, Mel. Those luscious eyes of his are saying, ‘I want your body’. Not, ‘I want to send you to Attica’.”

  Melanie snorted. “Right. I think you’re misreading those eyes. They’re saying, ‘I hope you don’t drop the soap’.”

  “Come on, Mel, that only happens in male prisons.”

  Melanie shook her head. “That’s not the point, Kay. He wants to blame me for that fire. I know it. And with my past with Dean and the previous arson charge, he just might be able to. Don't you watch the news? Innocent people are framed every day for crimes they didn't commit.”

  “Calm down. You’re not going to be one of them. Maybe we should do a little investigation of our own. See what we can find out about Dean. Where he was that night? Hell, maybe he set the fire himself to try and frame you.”

  Kay's implication was preposterous. No way would Dean burn down his own house. “Why would he do that?”

  Kay sighed and thrummed at her bottom lip. “Well, maybe he figured if you weren’t going to be his, then you’d belong to no one. Believe me, men don’t like being dumped. They like to do the dumping. He might have done this to get even with you for that. Who knows? I just think we need to do a little spying on the Grainger’s, see what we can find out.”

  “Kay, we are not detectives. I haven’t a clue how to spy on someone. Do you?”

  Kay's eyes lit up. “No. Paul Nader does, though.”

  Melanie’s jaw slacked. No way would he get involved. “Your ex-fiancé isn’t going to help us, Kay. He hates you.”

  The light in her friend’s eyes faded. “No he doesn’t. He loves me. That’s why it’s so hard for him to be civil.”

  Melanie wanted to laugh at her friends clouded perceptions. “You keep telling yourself that, Kay. He does have every right to hate you. Who wouldn't after being left at the altar and thrown over for the best man?”

  “Well, technically that’s true, I did do that. Yet I know he still loves me. Besides, you know I didn’t sleep with Roy. He was just my escape route out of an event I was not ready for. Sleeping with the same man for the rest of my life. I wasn’t sure if that’s what I wanted or not.”

  “Didn’t you tell me Paul was the best lover you've ever had?”

  “Yeah, had, the operative word. What about the men I haven't had? I just wasn’t ready to stop looking for something better.”

  “So have you had any luck since you broke up with Paul?” Melanie already knew the answer. Kay told her every detail of every romp she'd ever had—including how powerful the orgasms were.

  “No, though who knows. He might be just around the corner. Or sitting in this room right now.” Kay glanced around her, her gaze landing on Knox. “Hell, maybe Mr. Fireman over yonder might be able to start a little blaze that he could ever-so-slowly put out. He’s an awful big man. He probably has big attachments.”

  Why did Kay’s remark not surprise her? Melanie loved her friend dearly, yet some days, she reminded her of a sailor on leave.

  “You know what they say?” Melanie used Kay’s words from earlier.

  Her friend’s eyes sparkled and she played along. “No what?”

  “It’s not the size that counts. It’s all in the way you use it.”

  Kay scrunched up her face, looking aghast. “No, honey. It’s the size. Don’t let anyone tell you any different. The only ones who say that size doesn’t matter are men with tiny dicks.”

  “Am I interrupting?” a deep, male voice asked, intruding into their conversation.

  Melanie turned to find Knox standing just inches away, his eyes dancing with amusement. He’d obviously heard everything.

  She glanced at Kay whose face now resembled an over-ripe tomato.

  “What do you want?” Melanie asked, her eyes narrowing, any humor from earlier gone.

  “I wanted to apologize for the other day. I feel like we got off on the wrong foot.”

  Melanie snorted. Talk about an understatement. Wrong foot her ass. It was much more than a foot. The entire leg and half a hip were included.

  “No problem. You caught me at a bad time. I'd been up all night.” She wasn't going to tell him how she really felt. She was in enough trouble.

  “Anyway, you two enjoy your lunch.” He started to turn. Kay's next words stopped his leaving. “Would you like to join us?”

  Melanie wanted to strangle Kay at that moment. She settled for a swift kick under the table.

  “Ouch, Mel. That hurt.”

  Melanie turned to Knox and caught the twitch playing around his mouth.

  Was he laughing at her? Did he find her discomfort entertaining? Melanie would see who left O'Malley's with the last laugh.

  She smiled. “Kay, ask Mr. Manning about what you were wondering earlier.”

  Kay's eyes narrowed and her friend shook her head, pretending not to have understood her.

  Melanie’s grin widened. “You know—about his equipment.”

  Kay looked mortified. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

  “Sure you do. Remember… You wanted to find out how far his fire hose extended.”

  Manning’s jaw dropped, just the type of reaction Melanie had hoped for.

  Chapter Three

  Knox slammed his Ranger into gear and stomped on the accelerator. He was shocked that Melanie would ask such a question. She didn’t even know him. Hell, as if she had the right to inquire about his hose capacity anyway. She’d be the last woman on earth to experience that pleasure, and even at that point, he’d seriously have to talk himself into it.

  The whole thing confused him. Why would she embarrass her friend like that? So the woman had invited him to join them. Was the prospect so distasteful that she'd subject her friend to such ridicule? If so, she wasn’t much of a friend.

  Moreover, why was he dwelling on this? What did it matter?

  He glanced at the dashboard, realized he was speeding and let up on the gas.

  Why did he seem to lose all control around the woman—or simply by thinking about her? It had to stop. Right here. Right now.

  Melanie Sharp. Subject closed.

  He drove into the firehouse lot, the skinny redhead pushed out of his mind.

  Knox pulled into a parking space and, as he exited his truck, he noticed Sandra’s green Lexus parked next to her father’s car.

  Great. What was she doing here?

  He’d rather fight a ten-alarm blaze with a thimble than go inside the firehouse right now. Instead, he got back into his truck and headed for Summerset, his hands gripping the steering wheel. He’d go dig around the rubble for a while. That suited him much more than seeing the chief’s daughter. Besides, maybe he’d get lucky and find something else to link that woman he wasn’t going to think about to the fire.

  Damn. Not thinking about her was harder than he thought, especially when she was the prime suspect in his arson case.

  Ten minutes later, he pulled up next to the burned out house and caught a glimpse of a red sports car parked to the side of the home.

  Who’d have the nerve to come to the place? Damned thing was cordoned off. No one was supposed to be inside until he’d finished his preliminary investigation, especially since the structure was unsound.

  Knox jumped out of the truck and stormed up the sidewalk, planning to catch
whoever was inside and ream them good.

  As he rounded the side of the house he heard female voices coming from the back. At least they’d had enough sense to stay out of the building.

  One of them laughed and Knox froze. Great. He knew that laugh. It belonged to Melanie. Damnable woman. Had she come back to finish the job—in broad daylight no less?

  Closing the distance between them, Knox stalked around the back and found both Melanie and her friend off to the right, balanced on a large plank of wood, peeking through a window, the master bedroom as he recalled.

  “What the hell do you two think you’re doing?” Knox inquired as calmly as possible.

  The two collided as they scrambled to get away. Melanie tripped over her friend’s foot and ended up face down on the ground, limbs akimbo. She looked up at him and blew at the wisps of hair that had fallen in her face.

  Knox would have laughed if he weren’t so angry about her trespassing.

  “I’m waiting for an answer.”

  Melanie cleared her throat. “Kay thought we should check out the scene of my so-called crime.”

  Knox crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you two know I have the authority to arrest you for being here?”

  “Arrest us?” Melanie’s friend asked. “Would you have to handcuff me?”

  Knox’s attention flew to the pretty blonde, caught off guard by the spark of heat in her amber gaze. From the interested look she sent his way she found the idea appealing. A bit of a turn-on, for sure. Too bad she was Melanie’s friend. She was off limits to him. “I don’t carry handcuffs. Do you want me to call someone who does, have you both thrown in jail?”

  Melanie got to her feet, her hot pink blouse smeared with soot. She tried brushing it away, only to make it worse the more she rubbed. Not to mention causing the tips of her nipples to pop to attention from the action.

  Knox’s body reacted immediately, thrumming away.

  “We’ll leave.” Melanie grabbed her friend by the arm. “Right now.”