Rum and Raindrops: A Blueberry Springs Chick Lit Contemporary Romance

by Oram, Jean

  “It’s all right,” he said, laughing it off.

  Oh, my. That was hot. A man who could laugh off spilled coffee. Coffee was precious.

  And that laugh. Such a great laugh. It was as though every man she met these days was her ideal dreamboat incarnate. Again, stress was tweaking her hormones in strange and unpredictable ways. She needed to get in her packed up car and go sit on a rock somewhere far, far away and get herself sorted out.

  But first she needed to make things right with this hottie.

  She turned to The Diner, where he’d just exited. “I should buy you a new coffee.”

  “They’re closing up,” he said. “Everyone’s in an evacuation panic.” He waved a hand, his lips curved in a half frown. It was as though he saw smoke choking out towns every day and knew this wasn’t anything major. Which was what Jen’s gut was trying to tell her—when her mind wasn’t freaking out all over the place. Therefore, she liked this guy. A lot.

  She sized him up. There was something familiar about him, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was. It was as though they’d met. However, she was certain she’d remember that cute face and those bright, inquisitive, blue-gray eyes. He wasn’t local; she would have noticed him. His barely worn jeans clung in all the right places and he wore old leather work boots. He had a vibe similar to the locals she’d come to adore, but with a touch of having been away in the city for a while.

  Well, wherever he came from, and wherever he’d roamed, he’d definitely been active. He had a good set of well-used muscles underneath that T-shirt. He was more than intriguing and her quick assessment left her with more questions than answers. Especially since he didn’t seem to mind being sized up. In fact, he was doing the same to her. His gaze was flicking from her long, blond ponytail with the purple streak to her slender nose ring to her generous German curves she’d inherited from her grandmother to her fit, firm legs in short cutoffs to her beat-up hikers. And instead of discounting her as many men seemed to, he seemed pleased with what he saw.

  Hello, heart crush!

  She studied his shirt. It definitely needed help. She chewed on her bottom lip and dreamt up a plan. “We need to do something about that shirt.”

  He pulled the wet shirt away from his body. That was a very large coffee, the largest Jodi served.

  “Come with me,” Jen said over her shoulder, confident he’d follow her to Wally’s where she could replace the shirt. It was the least she could do—and no, of course she wasn’t putting off facing what had to be angry crowds of soon-to-be-homeless Blueberry Springs residents. Or hoping Major Hotness would strip off his wet shirt in the middle of the store, giving her a sight for her sore, tired eyes.

  She let them into Wally’s store with her key, inhaling the aroma of new hiking shoes as she led him to the shirt section. On her way, she lightly touched the smooth, wooden paddles as a mother might touch the head of a child. She loved everything in this store. It was home. Her rock in an unsteady sea called life.

  She inhaled back a rush of emotion, blocking it from coming forward, and flicked through a rack of shirts before holding one up in front of His Holy Major Hotness’s torso.

  He held out his hands, his empty coffee cup waving at her. “No, really. You don’t need to.”

  “Blue?” she asked, switching shirts. The light blue would look amazing on him. She held it out to him. Yep. Brought out the lovely brightness of his eyes and contrasted with his dark hair. Holy Major Hotness, come to mama.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, giving his face a self-conscious wipe. “You’re, um, staring.”

  She blinked and stepped back, shaking her head, muttering, “Nothing.”

  Damn. She was out of practice drooling over hotties. Which was odd, seeing as there were so many around. Problem was those smoke jumper hotties that cruised Blueberry Springs in the summer, using the town as a base for the really remote fires that started well beyond the end of the highway, were used to adrenalin and craziness. They usually wore her out after two dates, leading her to avoid them. There was just something about them leaping out of airplanes to put out forest fires—such as hers—that upped their intensity.

  Her fire.

  Oh, hell. It had to be. Who else? Who else could have? She hadn’t seen a soul out there.

  She grabbed a shirt off the end of the rack, feeling slightly woozy as she waggled it at him. “Maybe this one?” It had a stick man running from a stick moose and said Running Wild in Blueberry Springs.

  He broke out one of those lovely big grins of his and nodded. “I love it.”

  The man had a sense of humor. Very nice. She liked that. Liked him.

  And obviously needed to get a life, judging by the way her heart was tapping out a beat for this stranger. “I designed it myself,” she said, blushing. “Hence the stick man and stick moose. I’m not what you’d call an artist.”

  “Are you kidding?” He held out the shirt for another look. “You draw a mean stick person.”

  She tried not to act embarrassed and mumbled a thank you.

  “You realize I have to buy it now? How much is it?” he asked, reaching for his wallet.

  She snatched the shirt, holding it against her chest as she carefully plucked off the tag before handing him the shirt. “It’s my apology.”

  “That’s not necessary.”

  “I know. But I want to.” She led him to the change room, even though she secretly hoped he’d do as some guys did and whip off his shirt in front of her. God, she was pathetic.

  He entered the change room and closed the door.

  His loss. He didn’t realize what he was giving up such as an exclusive opportunity to have her hands roaming over his taunt skin. Not an everyday offer. Not that she would have succumbed. Of course not. Well, maybe just a little. But she’d definitely stop before running her tongue over what had to be some nice abs. She had to work out her stress, after all.

  She checked her reflection in the mirror outside the change room. She needed lip gloss. And to run a brush through her ponytail. She eyed the path to her office, a miniature storeroom Wally had outfitted with a desk when she’d started her excursions. Maybe she could slip in there and grab her gloss and write a note about that guy who called earlier for the canoe trip. Oh damn, what was his name? It was probably on her caller ID. She pulled out her phone to check before she forgot.

  “So, do you always give away merchandise?” His Holy Major Hotness asked through the closed door. His wet t-shirt hit the floor with a damp plunk and she paused, staring at it beside his worn boots. She forced herself to remember to breathe. Both in, and then out again.

  She pocketed her phone, unable to remember what she was doing.

  “Um. No, not always!”

  “Well, it is really kind of you. And on top of it all, I get a souvenir of Blueberry Springs.”

  She let out a light laugh. “I suppose you do. How long are you in town for?” Please say you are moving here and have a burning need to marry me so I can awaken to the most beautiful sight in the world every morning.

  “A few days. A few weeks. Depends on work.”

  Fire jumper. She knew it. That was why the smoke and threat to evacuate hadn’t fazed him. And why he seemed familiar, too. They’d probably met in Brew Babies or something. But that face…she’d have remembered that handsome face, that grin felt like a warm summer rain.

  “So, do you know a good place to hike around here?” he asked.

  “What kind of hike?” she asked, perking up.

  “Oh, just an hour or two when I have down time. Do you hike?” he asked through the door.

  Did she hike? Did bears eat blueberries?

  “Sure do. If you want”—she couldn’t believe she was about to say this—“I could take you out and show you some trails.” There was a slight pause on the other side of the door and she babbled on. “I could grab prize-winning brownies from Mandy who owns the wrap place in town and we could make a date of it.” Oh, hell. She was
n’t supposed to ask him out. At least not in an obvious, easy-to-turn-down way. “Um, if the town doesn’t burn down first.”

  Another pause. “That would be nice,” he said quietly. God, she wished she could see his face right now. To judge whether his quiet voice was due to a reluctant acceptance or unexpected pleasure. The problem was he seemed like a polite guy, which meant…

  She turned as the store’s front door opened.

  “Oh, thank goodness you’re open!” Mandy came rushing over. “Frankie says we need one of those big water jugs and a water purifier and flashlights and a first aid kit and…” She paused to check her list.

  “What are you guys doing?” It really wasn’t a good time for Mandy and Frankie to go on an off-road camping adventure.

  “Evacuating. Well, prepping in case the order comes.”

  Jen tried not to look amused. “You won’t need those things, Mandy. Just follow the highway to safety and stay in a hotel or with friends or something. You’ll be fine.”

  “Oh.” Mandy paused, looking around. Her eyes caught the shirt bunched up under the change room door and her eyes opened a little wider. She mouthed, Hot?

  Jen grinned and nodded. She mouthed back, I asked him out!

  Mandy scrunched her face in confusion and Jen waved her off. “I’ll tell you later,” she whispered.

  “I think I’d better at least get the knife and the water jug thing to placate Frankie,” Mandy said, consulting her list again.

  Jen grabbed the items and brought them to the counter as His Holy Major Hotness exited the change room, adjusting his new shirt. Man, he had nice eyes.

  Working hard to look away, she rang up Mandy’s order as HHMH wandered to toward them.

  Mandy grabbed the items and, shooting Jen a grin and a wink, scurried out.

  “She, uh, makes the brownies I was mentioning,” Jen said as Mandy hit the sidewalk.

  HHMH smiled, not looking as though he was a man trying to get out of a date. At least not yet.

  “The town’s in quite the uproar, huh?” he asked, leaning on the glass counter.

  She nodded.

  “It’ll die down.”

  She shrugged. She’d love to be as optimistic as this guy. “Easy for you to say.”

  “Why’s that?” he asked, leaning closer.

  “You aren’t the one who started it.” Oh shit. She wasn’t supposed to say that. Really, really wasn’t supposed to say that.

  “And you did?” His eyebrows lifted. Suddenly, this man was on high alert in a way that had her skin prickling with nerves.

  She gave a tense shrug, her voice tight. “I didn’t see anyone else in the park that weekend.”

  “Huh.” He studied her for a long moment. “You wouldn’t happen to be Jennifer Kulak, would you?”

  She quickly pushed away her surprise. “I am.” Had her reputation finally surpassed the nature guide over in Derbyshire and this hottie had heard of her guiding skills? She was kind of in major love with that idea. She grabbed a bag for his wet shirt and flashed him a grin. Maybe she’d stick around town after all. If she was a stellar guide with a reputation outside of these mountains she could definitely handle a little forest fire. No problem.

  He plopped his shirt in the offered bag and took it by its handles.

  “I’m Rob Raine.” He freed a hand to shake hers. “I’m the investigator sent to check out your forest fire.”

  * * *

  Her forest fire?

  She fought the urge to bend over as the clenching in her stomach suddenly increased. The clenching that made it difficult to breathe properly. The one that popped in to say hi any time she thought of Blueberry Spring and the peril she might have put it in, or the fact that everything good that had happened or she’d achieved in the past three years was pretty much going to be nothing but a pretty memory to haunt at night. Except now the investigator was telling her it had been her. That she was the one to blame.

  And that made her stomach do all kinds of moves she didn’t know it was capable of.

  She pushed her hip into the counter for support and stared at the hunk in front of her. The one she’d spilled coffee on. The one she’d been having little fantasies about. The one she’d asked out on a hiking date. The one who said yes. The one who held her entire future in his hands. And not the one with her gliding down a church aisle dressed in white and clutching a beautiful bouquet of wildflowers. The orange jumpsuit behind bars kind.

  Fate was a real gonad-kicking bitch sometimes.

  “I’ll be hanging around the area to check things out. Watch the fire and its behaviors,” Rob said, still leaning casually against the counter, his wet shirt in the bag beside him.

  Jen nodded. Where was her tongue? She usually was good at finding something snappy to say, but all she could think of was how this one good thing in her day had spun around to bare its nasty teeth.

  “It’s not my fire,” she managed to whisper. “If you’re looking to trap me into admitting guilt, I won’t. There’s a very good chance it wasn’t me. I know how to put out a fire.” She tipped up her chin and glowered at him.

  The corner of his lips quirked and he said calmly, “Don’t worry, Jen. I don’t put anyone behind bars unless I have evidence, and I can learn a lot from a fire—even after it’s out. After I turn in my findings, it’s still up to the courts.”

  Anger fizzed in her veins for the way he hadn’t revealed his identity earlier and she said primly, “Good.” She moved around the counter to usher him out of the store. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have people to help.”

  He turned at the door, his expression blank as he sized her up. “If the town burns down, where can I get a hold of you?”

  “In Hell,” she snarled.

  He tossed back his head and let out a giant guffaw. “I sincerely hope you’re innocent so I can go on that hike and get to know you better.” He gave her arm a squeeze as he moved out of the store, his smile genuine and kind.

  “Oh, don’t worry,” she called after him, “I’ll be on you like ants on a picnic proving I didn’t start this thing.”

  CHAPTER 2

  The room blurred and Jen placed a hand on her kitchen counter to steady herself, closing her eyes. She paused as the thrumming in her head intensified. She cracked an eyelid and lowered herself to the cool floor, heart pounding.

  The order to evacuate never came, the wind shifting again, brushing the smoke and fire away from Blueberry Springs and allowing many of the stores to reopen. She had vowed to stay until every last resident was gone because running away would show that she was a guilty little fire starter. And she wasn’t.

  At least she was pretty sure she wasn’t.

  Sprawled on the floor, she stared at the cracks in the ceiling, waiting for an image to form in the jagged lines. Some divination to tell her it would all be okay, to get up, to keep moving.

  Nothing came.

  She drifted off, waking in a panic.

  Smoke!

  She sat up, shaking off the stiffness in her muscles as she inhaled the smoky sweet scent. The forest.

  It was the forest still burning. Not her apartment.

  She breathed a bittersweet sigh of relief and lowered her head into her hands. Cautiously, she slid to the window to peek out over the street. The smoky haze gave a post-apocalyptic orange glow to Mary Alice walking her dog and Mandy signing for a restaurant delivery. But nobody was fleeing raging flames, making it a good day in Blueberry Springs as far as she was concerned. Checking her watch, she realized she’d slept through her lunch break and was due back at work downstairs.

  She opened the door that led to the street, and held her breathe, not daring to move as a mama bear and her two cubs ambled their way across her path. She watched the mama, eyes focused on getting as far away from the burning forest as possible, using the easiest route—through town—as she protected the ones she loved.

  Jen clutched her apartment keys to her chest, biting her lower lip as the bears turned d
own the next street, disappearing from view. She wasn’t just destroying Blueberry Springs with her carelessness, she was destroying everything. Why hadn’t she stayed home or camped at Woodchuck Park and used their mega metal fire pits instead of roughing it out at Raspberry?

  She gave herself a shake, willing herself to think positively.

  Drizzle sprinkled over her and she made a silent plea to the universe, Mother Nature, God, Allah, her dead grandmother, and anyone else who might be able to help. She needed rain. Full on rain. Seven days of allowing the fire to rage had been seven days too many. They needed a major rainfall. And she needed a major sugar fix to set her world right again. Knowing Wally wouldn’t mind if she was a minute or two late if she came bearing one of Mandy’s prize-winning whiskey and gumdrop brownies, she headed across the street to Mandy’s restaurant.

  The local lawyer, John, paused as he exited Mandy’s.

  “Good afternoon, Jen.”

  “Hi. Watch out for a mama bear with cubs near your office. She just turned onto Cherry.” She went to push open the door, but John caught her elbow.

  “I heard they’re investigating you,” he said quietly, drawing her to the side.

  Jen’s heart had a mini seizure. “What?”

  “This Rob Raine fellow Scott brought in. He says the fire was started by someone and they’re checking into alibis, but that you were the only registered user out at Raspberry that entire weekend.”

  Jen made stuttering sounds, unable to speak due to all the bad mojo burning through her brain.

  “If you end up needing a lawyer, you call me.” He gave her a stern look as though worried she would try to save herself from legal issues on her own.

  “I…I don’t know that I can afford a lawyer, John.”

  “Pro bono. A girl like youself starting out in life doesn’t need this kind of trouble. I helped Mandy last year, and I wouldn’t think twice about extending that kind of help to you as well. Should you need it.”