One Hot Summer

by Melissa Cutler

  The sincerity in his tone caught her off-guard again. Was this another ploy to keep her off-balance? “Got that right,” she muttered, jerking her arm out of his grip.

  His cheek twitched. “But you and I both know why the rules are in place. We both know what’s at stake. I don’t take pleasure in shutting you down or traipsing with you all over hell and creation to prove you’re breaking the law. That’s not the part of my job I enjoy.”

  “I’m not sure about that. That swagger of yours and that smirk you’ve been wearing since you got here seem pretty self-satisfied.”

  His gaze rolled to the heavens, as though he was praying for patience. “I saw that stage you’re walking me to when I arrived. I can already tell you that it’s too close to the surrounding structures to accommodate fire dancers. It’ll need to be moved.”

  “Like hell it does.”

  His hands went to his hips. “Please tell me that Alex explained to you that the stage can’t be so close to the main building. Please tell me he explained to you that Briscoe Ranch Resort is more than fifty years old and made entirely of wood. The original structure in the main building is nearly seventy-five years old. Even the nails in the original building are wooden. This place is a pile of tinder waiting to explode.”

  No, Alex most certainly did not tell her that. Any of it. Not about Maria the florist or the too-small tent he’d okayed or, apparently, the very valid reasons Micah Garrity was in contention with the resort.

  “Dramatic much?” said a droll voice behind them. Alex. Remedy ground her molars together, tamping down her anger at him. If there was such a thing as a time and a place to confront her new boss, this certainly wasn’t it.

  Remedy could practically feel the waves of irritation radiating from Micah’s body as he faced Alex. “I’ll never understand how you can be so flippant about fire safety, knowing what Xavier’s family has been through.”

  Remedy’s ears perked up. Xavier was Alex’s husband. Alex’s office was wallpapered with photographs of the two of them, along with their sweet twin toddlers, and Remedy had heard innumerable stories about their family, but never once had Alex broached the subject of a fire disaster or something that Xavier’s family had gone through.

  “I’m not as militant—no, obsessed—as you are, but that doesn’t mean I’m flippant about fire safety,” Alex said, standing taller. “But there’s a balance, Micah, and I’m willing to work with you to find it, like I always am. Just don’t bring Xavier into this.”

  A vein in Micah’s neck had become visible. “Don’t bring Xavier into this? Are you bullshitting me? Here’s a better question: Do you have any idea how long it took me to make peace with the fact that he married a Briscoe Ranch executive?”

  Assuming a bored frown, Alex lifted an eyebrow, droll, his voice flat. “Was it equal to the horror I experienced when I found out my boyfriend was your best friend?”

  Remedy had to be hearing this wrong. She angled into Micah’s line of sight. “Hold on. You’re best friends with Alex’s husband? How—”

  “Stay out of this, California.”

  “I don’t think I will,” she countered. There was no staying out of it because Alex had embarrassed her in front of Micah and caused her tons more work because of all the code violations today, work that she and her staff would have to scramble to complete, and yet here he and Micah were snipping at each other as though there was a whole lot more to the story of their animosity beyond a professional disagreement—and she was supposed to mind her own business?

  But Micah didn’t seem to hear her as he stepped around her to get nearer to Alex. “I was in his life first, and I’m a godparent to your children—who live only a few miles down the valley and would be directly in harm’s way if a wildfire swept through the county land toward your house—and I’m the one with the law on my side. So I’ll bring Xavier into this if I want to. In fact, I might bring it up with him tomorrow morning at the range. I’m sick of this dance you and I keep doing every wedding at the resort. I’m sick of training your new employees for you.”

  Alex fumed silently, his face flushed as red as Micah’s.

  Micah pushed the tent diagram into Remedy’s hands. “Move the stage another twenty feet away from the surrounding structures and you’ll be in business tonight. I’ll be back this evening to check that you followed through on the changes I ordered, so don’t let Alex put any clever ideas in your head.”

  Then he was off across the lawn, no swagger in his angry stride in the direction of a massive white diesel truck with a red stripe along the side containing the words Ravel County Fire Chief in block white lettering.

  “Alex, is all that true? Is Micah Garrity your twins’ godfather?”

  Alex didn’t reply. At the continued silence, Remedy tore her attention from Micah to catch a glimpse of Alex disappearing through an employee entrance to the resort.

  Chapter Four

  A scream sliced through the air as Micah mounted the porch steps of his best friend’s house. So much for his worry about waking the sleeping rulers of the Xavier and Alex Rowe household. Apparently, the rulers—or tyrants, as they seemed to be since they turned one and a half—were already awake and terrorizing their poor dad. If Xavier’s voice mail from earlier was any indication, they’d been at it for the whole day and most of the previous night.

  Before Micah could raise his hand to ring the doorbell, the door flew open.

  Xavier, wrangling a whimpering, struggling Isaac. Behind him, in a high chair at the dining room table, sat Ivy, screaming her fool head off. The twins must not have gotten the memo that they weren’t supposed to turn into little demons until their second birthday, a whopping five months away.

  Xavier’s brown eyes were bloodshot and his hair was frizzing out, looking weeks overdue for a cut. His dark skin was sheened in sweat and he had a bit of a funky smell going on. Or maybe it was the sweatpants and filthy T-shirt he was wearing.

  Micah held up the paper bag he’d brought. “Trade ya.”

  Xavier’s shoulders dipped. “That’s the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard, and I don’t care if it’s dog poop in that bag.”

  “Blueberry lemon muffins, actually.” He pulled Isaac from Xavier’s arms, though the little guy wasn’t eager to let go of his daddy. It took some wrangling to release Isaac’s grip on Xavier’s shirt. “You look like hell, by the way. Smell like it, too.”

  “Gee, thanks. You always were good with the compliments.” He opened the bag and followed Micah toward the dining room table. “Are these muffins from your secret admirer?”

  Isaac turned his body in toward Micah and cried into Micah’s neck. Micah jiggled Isaac’s sweet belly and gave him raspberries on the cheek until Isaac stopped crying and smiled. “Yup. But I figured you could use them more than me today.”

  Once or twice a week since before Christmas, Micah had opened his front door to find sweet treats wrapped lovingly in layers of paper plates and foil, then tucked in nondescript paper lunch bags. Often muffins or croissants, sometimes, when he got lucky, huge, sticky, decadent cinnamon rolls. The treats never included a note or any identifying information. He supposed he could play detective and ferret out the person’s identity, but that hardly seemed like a way to pay back the mystery person’s generosity. Clearly, they didn’t want to be discovered. Plus, he kind of figured it was Mrs. Mayfield, an elderly widow who lived in the house behind his, because he’d saved her cat from a tree last year and because tasty aromas often wafted from her kitchen windows.

  Xavier bit into a muffin and started to sit down on the chair facing Ivy, but Micah gave him a friendly shove. “I’ve got both these yahoos. You go eat and take a few minutes to catch your breath. Shower or something. Did I mention that you stink?”

  Micah had been around Isaac and Ivy since they were born via a surrogate, and with his experience with them and with his three siblings’ kids he felt totally qualified to handle both toddlers at once. Especially when one was conveniently contai
ned in a high chair, even if she was screaming loud enough for all the angels in heaven to hear.

  “Like I said, you’re always generous with the compliments.” But even as Xavier grouched, he relinquished the seat, wolfing down another bite of muffin as he shuffled to the kitchen and opened a beer.

  Ivy’s eyes were squeezed so tightly closed as she wailed that there was no way she’d even registered ol’ Uncle Micah’s presence.

  “Are they still teething? Is that the reason for all this drama?” Micah asked. He had vivid memories of the torture his firstborn niece, Savannah, inflicted on her parents when she was teething. That was one of the few aspects of parenthood he wasn’t looking forward to.

  Xavier splashed water on his face in the kitchen sink. “Let me tell you about teething. It’s a downward spiral into hell. The pain wakes them up in the middle of the night, and then the next day they’re even crankier because now they’re sleep deprived and in pain from the teething, and so then they won’t nap because they’re too tired to nap, and then they won’t eat because their mouths ache. So then they’re hungry, tired, and in pain. The perfect storm. And then it starts all over again the next night.”

  “Sounds miserable.” Micah tucked Isaac into place against his chest with his left arm, bouncing his leg to keep the little guy moving as he stroked Ivy’s cheek, trying to get her attention. Failing to distract Ivy from her misery, he scooped up a baby spoonful of white mush. “What is this stuff?”

  “Mushed bananas and rice cereal.”

  Nasty. “Hey, baby girl. It’s Uncle Micah.”

  She stopped screaming long enough to level at him the most pathetic, dejected expression he’d ever seen.

  “How about some of this banana mush your daddy fixed you?”

  After a bit of lip trembling, she burst out crying again. Micah figured, What the hell, and shoved the spoon into her open mouth. He used her upper teeth to scrape the mush off the spoon, figuring even if she spit most of it out maybe some of it would sneak into her gullet.

  In the kitchen, Xavier removed the wrapper from the second muffin. “Alex texted me this afternoon,” he called over Ivy’s cries. “He said you two got into it.”

  How annoying that Alex would burden Xavier even more by venting to him about their disagreements at the resort when Xavier was already at his wit’s end with their kids. “We get into it most weekends.” Because he refused to comply with the fire code for every goddamn wedding he planned and he always had. “Nothing to go bothering you about.” Isaac made a play for the spoon, but Micah evaded his outstretched hand. “Isaac eat yet?”

  “Not yet.”

  Micah set Isaac up in the matching high chair next to his sister as Xavier approached, eyeing Micah skeptically. “You mean, that’s not why you’re here tonight? To complain to me about Alex?”

  Micah fed Isaac a banana mush bite. Unlike his sister, he ate eagerly. “Hadn’t crossed my mind. In the voice mail you left me, I could hear both kids crying in the background and you sounded stressed. And I’m overrun with baked goods from my secret pastry pipeline these days, so I figured I’d stop by and drop off some sustenance.”

  Xavier poked him in the shoulder. “Don’t you dare do that swooping-in-to-save-me bullshit. I hate it when you do that.”

  “I know you do. With good reason.” Xavier got his knickers in a twist whenever he decided the hero complex he’d diagnosed Micah with was kicking in. Apparently, Micah had a way of overstepping, but he was working on it. And, honestly, it was a hard habit to break, after everything Micah and Xavier had been through together.

  Micah couldn’t shake the instinct to protect his friend. He’d spent the better part of his childhood fending off bullies from bothering Xavier, his next-door neighbor at the time, about being gay or being black in a town that tolerated neither. And then, when they were eleven, when the Knolls Canyon Fire struck, Micah had been the one to pull Xavier into Micah’s mom’s minivan as the two families fled together.

  Or maybe that protective instinct had taken permanent hold of Micah after the fire, when Xavier’s family decided to start over in a new town, at a new school, where Micah was powerless to be Xavier’s protector against school bullies anymore. Or perhaps it had taken root after Xavier enlisted as a volunteer firefighter under Micah’s command, counting on Micah’s judgment as chief to help keep him safe. After a lifetime of looking out for Xavier, Micah was still having trouble shaking the feeling of being responsible for his well-being.

  “I’m not swooping in to save you and I’m not here to complain about Alex. Just dropping off muffins and saying hello to my two favorite toddlers. Stop being so suspicious.”

  “Sorry. I’m just tired.”

  Micah jammed another spoonful of mush through Ivy’s parted lips. Thankfully, her wails had subsided into halfhearted whimpers. “No apology necessary. I’d be cranky if these hooligans had kept me up all night, too.”

  Xavier sprinkled Cheerios onto the trays of both high chairs, then dropped into a chair at the table. “I guess I should just be grateful that you and Alex haven’t strangled each other, but maybe you could take it a step further and stop getting to the point where you both wish you could strangle each other?”

  “Not likely.” He scraped the last of the mush from the bowl and fed it to Isaac, since Ivy was already macking on the dry cereal. “Someday, you’ll be too old to eat this nasty slime your daddies have you chowing on. And then your Uncle Micah can take you for out for burgers, and pie, and teach you how to fish.”

  “I already called dibs on teaching them to fish.”

  Micah leaned in to kiss Ivy’s forehead, the only clean and dry skin on her face. “I don’t care what your daddy says. You, your brother, and I have a fishing date in two years,” he whispered into her ear.

  Ivy pushed her mushy, slimy index finger into Micah’s nose and kicked her legs out with gusto, which Micah interpreted as the little gal’s way of sealing the deal.

  Together, Micah and Xavier cleaned the kids up and pulled them from the high chairs and into their arms. Micah was tempted to make one more offer to watch the kids while Xavier showered, but he couldn’t decide if that would be interpreted as swooping in for the rescue or not and so decided against it.

  He rubbed Ivy’s belly and cuddled her close. “Okay, Rowe family. I’ve got to hit the road. I have a stop to make before I turn in for the night.” An unwanted bolt of energy zipped through him at the thought of the person he’d be encountering on that stop. Remedy Lane. Maybe they’d even get into a sparring match again as they had that afternoon.

  “I know that tone of yours,” Xavier said. “You’re going to check up on tonight’s wedding at the resort.”

  He was really that obvious? “Look, I know what you’re thinking. But reminding the Briscoes and their employees that they’re not above the law is a full-time job, especially with the string of new event planners that have come and gone over the past year. It’s like they’ve never even heard of the fire code.”

  “Be nice to Alex, would you? For me. I don’t need a cranky man walking through that door after the day I’ve had.”

  All Micah could do was sigh. “Understood. Just know that he’s not making it easy on me. Him or the latest wedding planner he hired. She’s a helluva lot easier on the eyes than Alex—no offense—but she’s almost as obnoxious and law flaunting as he is.”

  Obnoxious, law flaunting—and Micah couldn’t get her out of his head. Anticipation of their next run-in, their next battle, sent another surge of electricity through his body. He was tempted to say her name aloud, to feel it on his tongue. He sucked his cheeks in, fighting a smile.

  Maybe Xavier sensed Micah’s shift in mood, because he watched Micah with interest as he said, “Alex likes her a lot. He says she’s bright and ambitious. He thinks this one will stick, unlike the last two.”

  Stick? Unlikely. And there was no use in pretending otherwise, no matter how alluring she was. “I wouldn’t be too sure, the way she
treats me and the folks of Dulcet like a bunch of clueless backwoods rednecks.”

  “You are a backwoods redneck.”

  “And proud of it. All I’m sayin’ is that there’s no way an upper-crust executive from California like her will be happy here long term. However charmed she may be by small-town life in Dulcet, she’ll still be out of here the first chance she gets. Mark my word.”

  Xavier’s interested gaze turned reticent. “You know who she is, right?”

  “Yup. Remedy Lane. Displaced California princess and already a major pain in my ass. Why?”

  A flash of headlights flickered against the dining room wall, followed by the rumble of a car parking in the driveway.

  With Isaac hitched on his hip, Xavier brushed past Micah, his eyes toggling between the car and his phone. “What’s Alex doing home so early? Doesn’t look like I missed any texts from him. Hopefully everything’s all right.” He spun to face Micah, his finger already wagging. “Play nice.”

  “Don’t I always?”

  Xavier rolled his eyes as he tried to tame his hair in a mirror near the door. “Before you say something snarky or goading, think, ‘Xavier was home alone all day with two teething toddlers.’ Think, ‘I’ll take mercy on Xavier, because he hasn’t gotten a solid eight hours of uninterrupted sleep in the past nineteen months.’”

  “Since the twins were born? Really?” Geez. Add that to the list of things he wasn’t looking forward to with parenthood.

  Xavier had the door open for Alex before he mounted the porch stairs. “Everything okay at work?”

  After a kiss to Xavier, Alex took Isaac in his arms and handed Xavier his briefcase. “Yep. All is well. I let Remedy take the reins today, so I figured I’d get out of her way.”

  “I like this whole getting home before midnight perk of having a competent wedding planner working for you,” Xavier said, helping him out of his sports coat so he didn’t have to set Isaac down.

  Alex adjusted Isaac in his arms, then directed a phony smile at Micah. “I see there’s no escaping you.”