Unforgettable You (Starlight Hill Series Book 4)

by Bell, Heatherly

  “What for?” Gran piled a plate with several pancakes and strips of bacon. She set it down in front of Diana.

  The family curse and the reason Diana couldn’t quite button the top of her jeans. Women in her family loved to eat. “Just to see the sights. It’s beautiful in Napa. Wine country.”

  “This is wine country. I don’t need to go to Napa.”

  “But wouldn’t it be nice to take a drive?”

  Gran didn’t answer the question but sat down at the table and gestured to Diana’s plate. “Why aren’t you eating?”

  “Don’t change the subject.”

  “All right, let’s talk about it.” Gran poured what seemed roughly a quarter of a cup of syrup all over her pancakes. “Why are you here?”

  “I’m here to see you, of course!”

  “Because you usually come for a few days, and you’re off again.”

  Diana broke off a piece of bacon. “How long has it been since I spent my entire summer here?”

  “Since you were twelve, I believe.”

  “I was sixteen.” The best part of that year had been the summer she’d spent with Gran. Even when Diana had been miserable Gran had somehow managed to make it all…bearable.

  “Oh, that’s right. That was the summer you begged your father to let you stay with me instead.”

  That part had been easy since dear old dad had a new family that year. He’d been more than happy to be relieved of the responsibility of seeing his daughters that summer. Mandy had been able to do her cheerleading camp, and Diana had come to be with Gran. “I’d say it’s about time I stayed the summer with you again.”

  Gran didn’t appear convinced as she puckered her lips. “And this happens to be just after your mother was here for a visit, turned up her nose at my collection of yarn, magazines and books, and started dropping hints.”

  “What kind of hints?”

  “She asked whether I’d be more comfortable in a place where I could have a staff at my beck and call. I asked her whether I’d won the Lotto and someone forgot to tell me. She just rolled her eyes and mentioned Sunnybrook Hills or some such nonsense. No way am I going to leave my home. You’re here because your mother sent you. She thinks I need to go in a home.”

  “No, you’ve got it wrong.” Diana rested her hand on Gran’s. “I’m here to help you prove to Mom that you can stay here.”

  Gran gave a wide smile. “And how do we do that?”

  “We start by organizing.” Diana waved an arm around the kitchen. The countertops and kitchen table where stacked with books and magazines, rusted coffee cans, coupons and yarn. She had no clue what else.

  Gran scowled. “That better not be another word for throwing away.”

  “We can get some boxes and put some things in storage. Next, we show her that you can get around just fine. That you’re perfectly able to leave the house every now and then. You’re not a shut-in.”

  “Of course I’m not a shut-in! Your mother and her imagination. Well, I don’t drive anymore because Jim at the market delivers all my groceries, and whatever he doesn’t, Gen will bring over. I don’t want to hurt their feelings.”

  Poor Gran seemed to be stuck and it was Diana’s duty to get her unstuck. “Why don’t we go out to lunch today? What’s a good place in town? Is the diner still there? You can introduce me to some of the people I haven’t seen in a while. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

  Now Gran patted Diana’s hand. “No need. They’ll all come by to say hello once they hear you’re in town.”

  They weren’t getting anywhere. Baby steps.

  ***

  Halestorm blared from the speakers in Scott’s truck. One good thing about working for his brother Wallace was that they had similar taste in music. It was pretty much a firefighter’s dream to have a contractor for a brother. Scott’s forty-eight on and forty-eight off schedule with the fire department meant there wasn’t much time for a second job. Filling in with Wallace’s crew was ideal. Even better? Hanging outdoors on a bright and sunny July day. Having just come off the recent fire, the sweet smell of grapes wafting through the air was a welcome change from smoke and soot.

  “Hand me that drill,” Wallace said.

  They were working on Mr. Jones’ addition to his already sprawling ten thousand square foot home. Scott handed the drill to his brother and watched him drill in some studs into the new sheetrock. Every one of Wallace’s crew had peeled his shirt off in the heat. Not Scott. He’d remembered to wear a light cotton t-shirt, which now stuck to him like a second skin. Normally, Wallace wasn’t the type to take off his shirt either, but married life had played hockey puck with his brain.

  Scott turned his head to the sound of a truck coming up the circular driveway, and there she was: the reason his brother smiled more often these days than he probably had in the past thirty-two years of his life. Gen, his sister-in-law, pulled up like clockwork at noon. She always brought Wallace lunch when he worked in town, and usually plenty to spare for the rest of their crew. It was no wonder every one of them looked forward to her arrival. Scott shut off the radio.

  “Lunch time!” Wallace called out, and shrugged off his tool belt.

  Scott tried to remember a time when his brother had let anyone else determine break time, but the arrival of Gen generally meant that they dropped everything they were doing. Scott supposed that being serviced regularly by the girl of your dreams might have a way of doing that to a guy. He watched a shirtless Wallace walk up to Gen, lift her up in the air and kiss her with such intimacy that he and every crew member turned away. The whole spectacle made Scott wish his brother could just use one of Mr. Jones’ many rooms inside and spare everyone else the PDA.

  “Hi, everyone!” Gen said when Wallace finally let her come up for air. “I’ve got lunch.”

  Lunch turned out to be worthy of a mini-banquet, but that was Gen. She’d brought her usual spread of croissant and flat bread sandwiches, cookies, rolls and slices of cherry pie from the bakery she ran in town.

  Kyle and some of the other crew happily helped themselves and then set up on the hood of Kyle’s truck, where he had his laptop. The guys regularly gathered around to watch videos on the Internet of the latest cat video or skateboarding mishap. Scott usually joined them, after he’d done the family thing with Gen and Wallace.

  “Hey, you. Pregnant yet?” Scott ruffled her hair as he grabbed a pastrami sandwich. The way these two looked at each other, he was surprised it hadn’t happened through osmosis.

  “Not yet,” Gen said. “But we practice enough.”

  He’d walked right into that one, hadn’t he? “Right.”

  “I don’t think we practice enough. Probably we need to practice more, till we get it right.” Wallace kissed Gen’s temple.

  “Well, that’s my cue.” Scott turned towards the guys when he heard a shout from one of them.

  “Wait a minute. That’s Scott!” Pedro shouted. “Isn’t it?”

  “Sure looks like him,” Kyle said. “Hey, it sure is. Scott! C’mere!”

  They were all huddling around the laptop screen, shoving each other out of the way when Scott joined them. “What is it?”

  No one said anything, just stared from him to the screen. His eyes turned to the screen, where he saw—crap, was that the night of the fire? Someone had filmed him carrying Diana out of the house. The worst thing about the video was the free show she gave everyone in her skimpy lingerie before he’d managed to throw a blanket on her.

  “Wait. How—?” Scott asked.

  “Someone filmed the rescue,” Pedro said.

  “And what a rescue!” Kyle elbowed him. “Why didn’t you tell us? Who is this girl? Is she single? Where can I meet her?”

  Scott scrubbed a hand down his face. Man, this was not good. “Aw, man. That’s Mrs. Paulsen’s granddaughter. Diana. And she’s going to be pissed.”

  Wallace and Gen had walked over to the commotion.

  “What’s this?” Wallace stared at the screen. />
  “It’s a video of your little bro being the hero that he is,” Pedro said and clapped Scott on the back.

  “Stop,” Scott protested. “I’m no hero. Just doing my job.”

  “No one told me that’s what firefighters get to do,” Kyle said. “Hell man, sign me up.”

  “Fireman hero rescues sleeping beauty,” Gen said from behind him.

  Scott turned to her. “What did I just say? It’s my job.”

  She pointed to the screen. “No. That’s what the video is titled.”

  “What!” Scott took a closer look. Sure enough, some bozo had loaded this amateur adult film and given it a title worthy of a B rated movie. He cursed loudly a few times, and then excused himself when Gen quirked an eyebrow in his direction. “How can I get this off?”

  All eyes turned to him, making him feel like a newborn kitty. Helpless. Clueless. “Uh, you don’t. Dude, this has gone viral,” Kyle said.

  Viral. One word he didn’t want to hear right now.

  “Look at this one. Someone set this one to music,” Pedro said. He’d clicked over to another channel and apparently someone else had edited the film to include the Freek’n You.

  Yet another video had set it to “All About That Bass” and purposely kept freezing on a part of the video in which the filmmaker had zoomed in on Diana’s curvaceous ass.

  “Great,” Scott said, raking a hand through his hair.

  “Not like it’s your fault.” Wallace pointed out. “Some idiot with a camera and way too much free time on his hands.”

  “Yeah,” Scott said, even if somewhere, somehow, this would all come back to bite him in the ass.

  Chapter 3

  Diana bought a few clothes to get her through the rest of the summer. Mandy had boxed up some of the clothes Diana had left behind in their shared apartment. Not that there would be anything that fit. At the local thrift shop, she’d found jeans and t-shirts and one cute white sundress. She couldn’t afford a new laptop yet, but she’d happened upon an old Alphasmart lying in a corner of the store. She’d paid twenty dollars and now had a dinosaur of a word processor.

  Best of all, she’d finally won the lunch argument with Gran, begging and turning it around so that Diana sounded like the one who needed company. She instructed Gran to be ready by noon, and precisely at eleven fifty-five a.m. she emerged from her bedroom dressed in a mid-length floral dress like something out of the eighties with a matching wide brimmed hat.

  “How do I look?” she asked Diana.

  Like you just stepped out of a time machine? “Lovely.” She stood up. “I’ll get my keys.”

  They drove to the diner, while Diana wondered how long it had been since Gran had left the house. Did she realize the dress was a little over the top for a visit to the diner? But the important thing was that they were out of the house, and Gran would get some fresh air. Maybe even see some people she hadn’t seen in ages. Mama’s Diner was full on Sunday afternoon, and as they walked in, Diana could sense every eye turn in their direction. They were probably all shocked to see Gran out of the house. Why hadn’t any one of them thought to ask Gran out for lunch or to church or even a Sunday stroll? Did people stroll anymore? Whatever, this little town of busybodies should have realized Gran was staying inside far too much.

  “Betty!” A white haired lady near the front called out.

  “Em, dear.” Gran embraced Em. “How long has it been?”

  “Ages,” Em said and turned to Diana. Except she didn’t meet Diana’s eyes, just sort of glanced in her general direction. “And this must be your lovely granddaughter.”

  “It is,” Gran said, pushing Diana to the front. “Say hello, Diana.”

  Feeling twelve again, Diana smiled. “Uh, hello.”

  “Two for lunch?” Em asked, grabbing menus and leading them to a table in the rear.

  “Just us womenfolk,” Gran said, adjusting her hat.

  She really needed to get out more. People didn’t talk like that in the twenty-first century. Well, this was step one. Baby steps, baby steps. They ordered off the menu, while people kept coming by to say hello to Gran.

  “See how much everyone has missed you?” Diana nudged Gran.

  “This is a small town, dear. They all remember me, and they don’t need to see me every day to know I exist.”

  “Yes, well, maybe you need to meet new people. You know, people your own age.”

  “New people? Why would I want to do that?”

  “There’s a whole world out there, Gran. Starlight Hill isn’t exactly a mecca, or a melting pot.”

  “I never said it was.”

  It was important for Mom to believe that Gran had an active social calendar. “What about bingo? I mean, wouldn’t you like to play bingo with some of your friends?”

  “Bingo? My heavens, dear, how old do you think I am? No, I don’t want to play bingo.” Gran fanned herself with the menu. “Maybe when I’m dead.”

  A woman approached their table, dressed in a pinstriped power suit and wearing a Chamber of Commerce name tag which read, ‘Ophelia Lyndstrom.’

  “Hello, Betty,” she hugged Gran and then leaned in to Diana. “I just wanted to say, dear, don’t worry about what anyone else thinks. You’re young and beautiful now. I’m not judging.”

  Ophelia waved and left before Diana could ask what that meant. She wore jeans and a boyfriend t-shirt. A quick downward check revealed her girls were still right where they should be. Strapped down tight.

  “What was that about?” she asked Gran.

  “I don’t know. She’s a strange one. She’s the president of the Chamber of Commerce, Junior League, and the PTA. Something else too but I lost track. Personally, I think she plans on taking over the world one meeting at a time.”

  Gran and her hyperbole. She’d missed her so much and best of all she hadn’t seen any signs of her acting anything other than her normal self, so she wasn’t sure what Mom was so up in arms about. After lunch, Gran ordered a big slice of fresh strawberry pie and while they waited Diana pulled out her phone and checked her email. Her thumb swiped through all the spam and found one from her sister Mandy. The subject line was not what she would normally expect. It simply read: WTF?

  She opened the email to find a link to an Internet video with a cryptic short sentence: Is this who I think it is? Because it sure looks like you. How dare you hold out on me!?

  Diana clicked on the link but what she saw displayed couldn’t be happening. Her breathing slowed and she would swear her heart slammed to a full stop. No. No. No. Someone had filmed the rescue! Of all the lousy, crappy things to do to a person. The video showed her clothing—and lack of it—her bare naked legs dangling as Scott carried her out of the motel. And holy shit, was that her exposed nipple?

  Diana grabbed her water glass and took a big gulp.

  “What’s the matter, dear?” Gran asked. “You look so pale. Did that chili not agree with you? I told you it was probably too spicy.”

  “I’m fine,” Diana managed to say. She turned to the people seated nearby and suddenly all those indulgent smiles and nods took on a whole other meaning. Maybe these people had seen her—pretty much all of her.

  I’ll explain later, Diana typed back to Mandy and hit ‘send.’

  She had to get this video down before Gran heard about it. From her experience, it wouldn’t be easy but it had to be done. She’d given the folks that night enough of a show without having to re-live the moment on the Internet over and over again for all stinking eternity.

  Diana had to get to the bottom of this video, find the source, and tamp it down. Scrunch it. Kill it. Destroy it. She dropped Gran off at the house, and explained she had a few errands to run. Then she drove to the fire station. Maybe someone there could explain the meaning of this to her. Someone by the name of Scott. Handsome buns of steel Scott, who would probably be ecstatic over all the new female conquests he would make from this single video. Nothing like being a hot hero firefighter to get a man laid. O
ther than having a rescue recorded on video and broadcast to the world.

  Never mind that she was the one being showcased in her altogether.

  Outside, there was a firefighter washing the big engine truck. “Can I help you?”

  She strutted up to him. It wasn’t Scott, but another handsome man—seriously, was it a job requirement to be gorgeous to be a firefighter in this town? He wasn’t wearing a shirt, but that had absolutely no effect on her whatsoever.

  “I’m looking for Scott.”

  “He’s on his forty-eight off. You won’t find him here.” He went back to the truck.

  Apparently she bored him. “Can you help me?”

  “Help you do what?”

  She considered asking this man for help with the video, but then again maybe he didn’t know about it. Yet. He certainly wasn’t giving her the once-over or anything like that. “Just tell me where I can find him.”

  This time he did study her a little, probably trying to determine if she was psychotic. “He works for his brother on his days off. Think they’re up at the Jones property today.”

  “Thanks.” She turned to go, then stopped and spun around. “Wait. Where’s the Jones house?”

  He squinted at her. “Who are you, again?”

  Was she seriously that forgettable? “I’m Diana. You know, you guys uh, rescued me the other night. From the fire.”

  He nodded. “Ah. Got it. I thought you looked familiar, but you know, you’re wearing clothes.”

  Diana scoffed and narrowed her eyes at him, but he’d gone right back to the truck.

  “The Jones house is at the top of the hill. Merlot Road,” he said, pointing.

  “I want you to know, I usually wear a bathrobe!” Diana stomped back to her car and threw the door open.

  She drove like a bat out of hell to Merlot Road until she caught sight of a construction crew. This was clearly the place. Most of the trucks had Pacific Construction placards on the side of them. More men, most of them with their shirts off, which again had absolutely no effect on her. Then she spotted Scott near a retaining wall, lifting what looked like the side of a building. She broke out in a little sweat because of this heat, possibly, and stared a little bit too long at his hard body. He wore well-worn blue jeans, a tool belt hanging low around his hips, his long muscular looking legs tapering up to those tight buns. He seemed to be the only one with his shirt still on, and she would have to imagine the rock hard abs underneath it.