Saved by the Firefighter

by Rachel Brimble

  “Are you free tonight?” A faint blush colored her cheeks. “Tomorrow?”

  Trent couldn’t remember a time she looked more beautiful. “I’m on duty tonight, but tomorrow would be great. What time shall I pick you up?”

  “Why don’t I meet you at the Coast Inn at around seven?” She eased her hand from his. “There’s something I want to do tomorrow, so I’ll be busy all day.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “The Coast? We can do better than the local bar surely?”

  “One step at a time, okay? The Coast’s about as far as I can stretch right now.”

  Idiot.

  He briefly closed his eyes. “Right. Sorry.” He winked. “The Coast it is, then.”

  “Great. I’ll just wander down the street to see if Richard’s on his way.”

  “Sure. See you in a minute.”

  She nodded before turning and walking away.

  Trent frowned as frustration coursed through him. God, what he would have given to kiss her.

  She halted and his heart beat a little faster. Come back to me, Iz. Come back and kiss me...

  She turned and strode confidently toward him, only stopping when she was inches away. She lifted herself onto her toes and brushed her lips over his. “I’m looking forward to our first date.”

  She walked a few steps backward, her smile wider than the sun, before turning around and walking from the front of the station onto the street.

  Trent released his held breath. “Holy Mother of God, am I in trouble.”

  He had barely made it from the station yard into the kitchen when Will sauntered in, a goofy smile splitting his face as Crawley, Izzy and Kate walked in behind him.

  Will opened his arms to Trent and the rest of the guys dotted around the room. “Gentlemen, this is Richard Crawley.” He turned to the presenter. “Mr. Crawley, let me present Templeton’s finest team of firefighters, shortly to become temporary models.”

  The guys laughed and made their way toward Crawley, their hands outstretched in greeting. Annoyance curled through Trent’s gut and he turned from Crawley...only to meet Izzy’s steady gaze.

  There was no mistaking the concern in her eyes, or her worry, as she trapped her bottom lip between her teeth.

  He forced a smile and walked toward her, putting his arm around her shoulder. “Stop worrying. I’ll be a good boy. Promise.”

  She looked into his eyes as though accessing his inner thoughts. “Promise?”

  “Promise.” He dragged his gaze from hers toward Kate and the guys as they huddled in a group around Crawley. The guy seemed to be in his element as admiration and questions were fired at him from every direction. “As long as he doesn’t as much as look at you.”

  “Trent...”

  He laughed and squeezed her closer. “I’m joking. Watch this.”

  Mustering every ounce of self-control, Trent reluctantly pulled his arm from Izzy’s shoulder and strolled toward his colleagues and Crawley. He held out his hand. “Mr. Crawley. Nice to see you again.”

  Crawley’s gaze locked on Trent’s as he took his hand. “Trent, right?”

  Tension rose, testosterone seeming to fill the room as Trent shook and released Crawley’s hand. “Right.”

  Crawley looked past Trent in Izzy’s direction, and Trent turned to follow his gaze. Izzy stood watching them, her arms folded. The delight in her eyes moments before had been replaced with hard, no-nonsense business.

  Trent glanced at Crawley and caught the wink he tipped Izzy. Swallowing the urge to swing at the guy, Trent took a deep breath and threw his arm around Crawley’s shoulders. “So, Richard, has Kate convinced you to strip to the waist like the rest of us?”

  As the chatter and banter erupted once more, with Kate playing referee in the center, Trent slid his gaze toward Izzy. She slowly walked toward the circle, her eyes locked on Trent’s. He could’ve bet a hundred pounds that her mouth twitched with a smile as her blue gaze shone with pride.

  His heart kicked. One way or another, he would marry Izzy Cooper or die trying.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  IZZY TOUCHED HER HAND to her car door just as Richard Crawley strode into the private parking lot of her apartment building.

  He raised his hand in greeting.

  She returned his wave, surprised and curious. She was pretty certain she hadn’t told him where she lived. What was he doing here?

  Once he reached her, he leaned against the side of her car, his posture relaxed and easy...a man used to doing what he wanted, when he wanted. “Hi.”

  Izzy slid her sunglasses atop her head. “This is a surprise. I thought you planned to spend the day working on your upcoming show.”

  “I worked on it for most of last night, so I thought I’d come and find you this morning.”

  “I see.” She looked toward the security booth at the entrance of the gated apartments. “And I guess Mitch was so bowled over by your celebrity status that he let you walk in here without calling up to my apartment for my say so first?”

  He smiled. “Something like that.”

  She lifted an eyebrow, insistent on an explanation to ease her wariness. Celebrity or no celebrity, obnoxiousness annoyed her.

  He laughed. “What? I merely told him you were expecting me and then when we saw you by your car, he clearly couldn’t see a problem with me meeting you outside. I’m sure if I wanted access to your apartment, he would have called you first.” His smile faltered. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

  Izzy fought her distrust. “You haven’t made me uncomfortable, but I do wonder how you got my address.”

  “I asked someone in town.”

  “Who?”

  He lifted his eyebrows. “Does it matter? Look, I’m sorry. The last thing I want is to upset you.”

  “Forget it.” She jangled her keys. “I need to get going. I’m going across town to see someone about the new gallery opening there in the New Year. The owner might be interested in exhibiting my work.”

  “Of course he is. He’d be mad not to.” His gaze roamed over her hair and face. “I’ve followed your work for a while. It’s fantastic. Truly.”

  “You’ve seen my latest shots on the website?”

  “Yes and I love the change in outlook, colors and perception compared to your previous work.”

  Trent’s reaction to her darker pictures seeped into her mind. It couldn’t have been more different than Richard’s, and she had no idea how she felt about that. Good or bad, the pictures reflected her sadness. “Well, thank you, but lately my work has taken a more...darker edge. I’m not sure what the gallery owner’s take will be on them, but it has to be worth a shot.”

  He tilted his head toward the portfolio she had clutched to her chest. “Are these new pictures? Ones that aren’t on your website?”

  “Yes, I’m still not sure—”

  “May I?”

  Insecurity threatened her earlier confidence that Trent was wrong and her images were different, yes, but they held a certain depth and sorrow she hoped would appeal and be understood by the hundreds of people who’d lost loved ones.

  What if Richard, TV host extraordinaire, seemingly unerring optimist, saw the images up close and agreed with what Trent’s tone had implied, that they were depressing, morose and self-pitying?

  Of course, Trent hadn’t actually said those words, but still...

  Drawing in a breath, Izzy pulled the portfolio from under her arm and carried it to the hood of her car. She opened it and Richard came close to her side. Close enough for her to inhale the fresh scent of soap and lime. She stepped back, her unease returning. From his body language, he acted as though they were dating. Which they weren’t and never would be.

  He leaned over the portfolio and slowly turned the pages,
studying each image for a few excruciating seconds before moving on to the next.

  Izzy embraced the nerves that swooped and dove in her stomach; savoring the courage it had taken to show, through her art, the internal storm she now battled daily. She wasn’t ashamed to show the world Robbie’s death had changed her into a sadder, lonelier, more cautious person even if others, Kate and Trent for instance, refused to believe it to be true.

  “These are...” Richard shook his head and flipped back a few pages to restudy some of the images. “Amazing. Extraordinary, in fact.”

  “You really think so?” Izzy released her held breath as the relief of his approval washed through her. “I really hope Jay Garrett is as impressed as you seem to be.”

  “That’s who owns the gallery?”

  “Yes.”

  “I remember the family. They were pretty well off as I remember.” He straightened and looked deep into her eyes. “Jay’s the son?”

  She nodded.

  “Well, if he’s anything like I remember his father to be, Jay’s no fool. I’m sure he’ll love them.”

  She smiled. “Thank you.”

  “You know if Jay says no and you start to believe your work should be exhibited on a much larger scale than what Templeton has to offer...”

  “Yes?”

  He turned back to the portfolio, turned the pages back and forth again, his eyes narrowed. After a few moments, he closed the book and faced her, his dark brown eyes somber. “I’d really love to invest in you...in your career.”

  Izzy frowned. “How?”

  “I spend my money wisely, Izzy. I’m ashamed to say your earlier skepticism about mine and Francis’s attitudes at the agency was warranted. As soon as I knew you were shooting this calendar for Maya, I saw it as a fated opportunity to meet you.”

  She stepped back and folded her arms. “Because?”

  “Because I part-own a gallery in the city. I’d really like to arrange an exhibition for you there. I loved your previous work and love this new work even more.” He gently touched her elbow. “If you’d allow it, we could showcase your pictures in a kind of timeline, before and after bereavement.”

  She did want her work to be seen, but... “That would be using Robbie’s death in a way that’s wrong. Exploitation of my personal tragedy isn’t something I can even begin to contemplate. My brother was—”

  “Everything to you. I get that and so will the hundreds of people who see your pictures. I promise you. Everything you’re going through will be truly understood.”

  Wasn’t this the reaction, the realization, she’d secretly wanted from Trent the moment she invited him into her studio to see the images? Instead, he’d been disappointed, had wanted the old her back. A woman who had gone forever. She’d hidden her hurt that Trent didn’t understand what she was trying to say through her work under a laugh.

  She hadn’t the courage to tell him how her work gave her an outlet she couldn’t find through conversation. No matter with whom she might be speaking.

  Richard cleared his throat. “Of course, for the exhibition to truly be a success, it would mean you leaving Templeton. At least, for a while. Do you have any commitments here that would stop that from happening?”

  “Well, no. Not really.” She swallowed as trepidation about moving away from the safety of the Cove and the people here threatened her inner ambition. “I’m very busy, but there’s nothing I wouldn’t be able to postpone with some prior warning. But—”

  “I know the Cove means a lot to you, but I’m giving you a way out that will benefit your career enormously.” He eased her arms from her chest and squeezed her hands, his gaze kind and considerate. “Francis would be more than happy to represent you, I’m sure. You’d be agented. Who knows what doors that could open for you? Plus, there will be promotion, TV and radio appearances and that’s before the exhibition. After? Who knows what could happen for you?”

  Suspicion squirmed inside and Izzy eased her hands from his. “You seem to have given this a lot of thought.”

  He hesitated and then lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I have. Probably too much, but I mean every word. I’d love to really launch your career, Izzy.”

  “But why? What’s in it for you?”

  “I don’t know. At least not yet.”

  “That makes no sense.” She narrowed her eyes. “You’re making me very uneasy, Richard. You weren’t asked here to start a business relationship with me. You’re here for Maya Jackson and Maya Jackson only. Templeton’s my home. I have friends, fam...” Trent. “It’s where I belong.”

  A flicker of irritation flashed in his eyes before he glanced at her portfolio. “Is it? These pictures tell a different story. I might be wrong, but I don’t think you’re happy here. Not anymore.” He picked up the portfolio and handed it to her, his determined gaze boring into hers. “Maybe it’s time for you to grow your career. Work on the ambition I see burning through every single thing you capture with so much verve and passion.” His gaze softened. “It’s your call. No pressure. Just promise me you’ll think about what I’m offering.”

  She nodded, trepidation knotting her stomach. “I will, but I still intend to meet with Jay. I’m sure you’ll agree it makes sense that I explore all my options.”

  “Of course. Your consideration is all I ask.”

  Confusion mixed with a fire for more in her life than grief, for more than the endless memories of Robbie and their times together in Templeton Cove. Wouldn’t she be holding those possibilities back if she stayed here?

  Richard moved to walk away and Izzy turned. “Richard?”

  He faced her. “Yes?”

  “Why did you come to see me this morning? It couldn’t have been to talk to me about my work or you would’ve mentioned it over dinner the other night.”

  “I intended to, but the moment passed by unnoticed because I was having such a good time not talking business with you. However, today, I came to see you for just that reason. You’re extremely talented and I’d love the opportunity to do anything I can to get your work seen by the right people. Truly. I’ll see you soon.”

  He walked away and Izzy stared after him as he passed the security booth, waving to Mitch before continuing out onto the street.

  Izzy slid her portfolio and purse onto the passenger seat of her car, shut the door and rounded the hood to the driver’s side. She got into the car and gripped her keys.

  In the last two days, two galleries had approached her to showcase her work. It should’ve been a dream come true, yet in reality, it was more of a life-affecting decision than the potential for career advancement.

  She suddenly felt so unsure about something she had wanted since she was a teenager.

  She started the car and as she drove across town, her mind raced. The gallery in Templeton had been Trent’s idea, which meant he believed in her work...but did he only believe in her old work? The old her?

  One way or another, she had a decision to make. She either stayed in Templeton and worked with Jay Garrett, with Robbie’s memory haunting her at every turn—or she moved to the city and started over. Who knew what a complete change of scenery might bring? Maybe she’d find peace and happiness where nobody expected her to be anyone but the woman she’d become.

  Someone whose heart was harder and more afraid of life and living than she’d ever been before.

  * * *

  TRENT LIFTED HIS beer and drank, his gaze trained on the door of the Coast Inn. The bar was typically English with one difference—everyone knew everyone in Templeton and that made the Coast as welcoming as a close friend’s living room. Tonight, however, Trent was not relaxed and he wasn’t comfortable.

  Even though Izzy had asked for this date, or whatever the hell it was, he still sensed he’d hurt her when he admitted to disliking her new pict
ures. She wasn’t a good enough actress to hide the disappointment that had flashed in her eyes. Disappointment he’d put there, and his regret lay like a lump of lead in his gut.

  He’d reacted the way he had because he hated what the shots represented. They were artistic, beautiful even, but Izzy’s deep sorrow was also caught in every pixel.

  Trent took another drink and gripped the glass as he placed it on the table. His job had been his refuge after Aimee died and ever since. He had no right to assume Izzy’s darker projects wouldn’t be hers.

  He couldn’t blame her if she didn’t show tonight.

  Her choice of the Coast as a venue was safety personified. He would’ve loved to take her to the Oceanside, the Cove’s far superior and up-market restaurant across town, but he sensed Izzy had chosen the bar for a reason.

  The meeting place and early-evening time of seven made it clear tonight was a casual thing. Nothing romantic could be anchored to it. It was a tester...maybe even a make or break between them.

  Rare nerves tumbled in Trent’s gut as he looked around. With dark paneling and ocean-type paraphernalia pinned and screwed to the walls, the place was decorated like the interior of a ship. Dark and light places were available for patrons to choose as they would. Which was why he’d chosen a corner table, away from the huge plasma TV and kids’ video games through an archway at the back. Whatever was said tonight, he wanted to make sure he and Izzy could hear what they said to each other.

  It was Friday night and the place was already filling up.

  The doors swung open for a third time. No Izzy.

  He’d give her the benefit of the doubt...for approximately ten more minutes. Trent scowled. Who was he kidding? He’d wait another hour if need be.

  He pulled his phone from his shirt pocket. No missed calls. No texts. He scrolled through his Facebook page and resisted the temptation to tell the world he was waiting for Izzy Cooper for what he hoped would be their first official date in months. The pride that hope brought rose in his chest.

  Then again, if she stood him up...

  Cursing, he shut off his phone and stuffed it back in his pocket. He glanced toward the bar—and froze. That denim-covered butt could only belong to one woman.