Unforgettable You (Starlight Hill Series Book 4)

by Bell, Heatherly

  She stopped the car, got out and marched right up to him. “Hey.”

  He turned to her, and his eyes immediately registered recognition. Oh good, she wasn’t forgettable to everyone. “Hi.”

  “Um, we need to talk.” She folded her arms and glanced around at the rest of the crew. Most of them were openly staring. She cleared her throat. “Got a minute?”

  “Yeah,” he said and followed her to the edge of the work site.

  She glanced up at all six foot-whatever of solid muscle and brawn. “We have a problem.”

  He drew a forearm across his forehead, wiping sweat away. This caused his espresso brown hairs to spike up a little bit and his green eyes to pop out. “Yeah, I know.”

  “While I realize this must be like a dream come true for you, we need to get that video down.”

  He flinched. “Like a—what did you say?”

  She threw up her hands. “Hero firefighter rescues damsel in distress!”

  There seemed to be some kind of a tick in his jaw and he shook his head slowly. “I’m no hero. I want that video down as much as you do.”

  “You do?” That was difficult to believe, just looking at him. He screamed testosterone and sex. Sweaty, raw sex. Some of that headboard banging sex Mandy had just had to put into Diana’s thoughts so that it could rise to the surface right now.

  “Why would I want that up? It’s embarrassing.”

  “For me!”

  “Look, I get that. I’m sorry some idiot thought it would be funny to put it up.”

  She folded her arms across her chest, and did her best to look intimidating. “So it wasn’t you or one of your buddies?”

  “Hell no, it wasn’t me and none of my friends would do that because they know me.”

  “Unless they thought it might help you with the ladies.”

  That’s when Scott did something that surprised Diana. He rolled his eyes.

  “It’s gone viral, you know.” Diana pressed.

  “Yeah,” he said. “Unfortunately, there’s not much we can do now. We can get the original poster to take it down, but chasing every one of them down?”

  She’d been afraid of that same scenario. It would be like chasing sand in the ocean. The effect of ripples along the water. Impossible to stop or contain. “So what do we do about it?”

  “We?”

  He flashed her the easy smile she remembered. The boy had grown into a man and damn, he was fine. He knew it too, which was so irritating. “We’re both on the same side. We want that stupid video taken down.”

  “I’ll talk to my lieutenant. See if there’s maybe something we can do about it. Coming from the department that might mean something.”

  Finally, some good news. “Good! That’s great. Um, thanks.”

  “I’m not promising anything. But you’re welcome.” His voice was so deep and sensual he might as well have said ‘take off all your clothes.’

  Her cheeks felt hot and flushed, thanks to this oppressive July heat. Crap, was she blushing? She turned her back to him in case she was, but thought she could feel his eyes boring into her backside. She reconsidered and turned back around. Sure enough, his head was cocked and he was openly staring at her ass.

  She waited until his eyes slowly rose to meet hers. “One last favor?”

  “Why not.”

  She jutted her chin in the direction of the workers, the ones who’d been staring the entire time. They unanimously turned their backs to her at once. Classy. “Would you tell those guys I had a bathrobe? Tell them I had one but that there wasn’t any time for it.”

  “The fuzzy one with the ducks on it?”

  “How do you know about it?”

  He looked at the ground, then back up at her. “Sorry to say, the ducks didn’t make it. Too much water.”

  “Ha! You’re cute.” She pointed a finger in his direction. “That bathrobe is who I am, mister, and don’t you forget it. The lingerie was just—”

  “I know,” he interrupted her. “You were working it.”

  “No. Writing, remember? I was working.”

  “We’ll have to agree to disagree on that one.”

  This time she really did blush.

  ***

  On Tuesday, Scott arrived at the firehouse early so he could have a talk with Ty. Personally, he was done with that video nearly as much as Diana seemed to be. He’d seen it at least a dozen times since the first day, and each time it got worse. There were way too many versions out, most of them now set to music. The comment section was out of control on some of them, with remarks like, ‘Hurry, I’ve got a fire in my pants!’ and other racier ones he only hoped his mother would never see.

  He found Ty in his office, doing his least favorite thing. Sitting behind a desk. This usually put him in a lousy mood, but Scott had no choice in the timing. They needed to get a handle on this video.

  He walked in and shut the door.

  “What is it now?” Ty threw him the Death Stare.

  A former marine, Ty managed to scare off most new hires with nothing more than an eyebrow quirk. But not Scott. And even though Scott realized Ty thought he was nothing but a pussy Army boy, Ty did seem to give him a begrudging kind of respect for his service.

  Scott took a seat. “By now you’ve seen the video.”

  He smirked. “I think my favorite one is set to ‘Someday My Prince Will Come.’ Have you come yet, soldier?”

  “No, and I’m not likely to unless we get that video down.”

  Ty actually looked up from his laptop. “Interesting. Leave it to a sniper to set his sights on a target so far out of reach. I have to believe there’s a lot of low hanging fruit as a result of that video.”

  And he wasn’t interested in any of it. “Are you going to help me, or what?”

  “What do you expect me to do about it? I believe we have a free press. And that video doesn’t exactly portray us in a bad light. You did your job. Why do you have a problem with it?”

  This is where he squirmed. He did have a problem with it, and Ty understood why. But it was also about Diana. She was the one half naked in the video. “The girl has a problem with it.”

  Ty leaned back in his chair and smiled. “She shouldn’t, either.”

  She was a mystery to him too and not for the first time he regretted never having hung out with her much during the summers. But they’d been kids, until that last summer. Even then they didn’t exactly hang in the same circles. He’d always had the impression she irritated him. The feeling was pretty mutual, if he recalled.

  “Hard as it is to believe, she’s on the shy side. Not every girl wants the whole world to see that much of her.”

  “I see. So what do you want? I can’t stop the tide. It’s viral. You do know what that means?”

  “But isn’t it worth a try? Maybe a letter from the department, from the Firehouse 54 Lieutenant asking them to take it down.”

  “I think you’re overemphasizing my pull around here.”

  “You’re a pretty scary guy when you want to be.”

  Ty raked a hand through his hair. “I’ll see what I can do. But now you have to do something for me.”

  Not like he couldn’t see that one coming. “Name it.”

  “It’s this fucking calendar. We still need Mr. September. And Ophelia is breathing down my back every damn day. I’m going to kill someone if I have to hear about it one more time.”

  “No way. I already said I wasn’t interested.” They had enough beefcake without adding him to the mix. “I’ll do anything else, dude. Not that.”

  “If I have to do this ridiculous thing, so do you.” Ty pointed. “I’m fucking Mr. December. With a Santa hat. Don’t cry to me, you pussy.”

  Scott felt every muscle in his body tense. If he took his shirt off in public, he wouldn’t hear the end of it. Everyone would be reminded, and the whole shit would start all over again. “You got roped into it when you lost a bet. Don’t act like you’d do it otherwise.”

 
Ty looked ready to spit. “It’s for charity.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I’ll do it, but I’m keeping my shirt on.”

  “Agreed.” If anyone understood the shirt thing, it was Ty.

  Scott shook on it. “It’s a deal, Mr. December.”

  “Fuck you, Mr. September.”

  Scott spent the rest of his forty-eight hours on shift wondering what the hell he’d agreed to do. This stupid calendar had been the talk of the town since Ophelia had come up with the bright idea and up until now he’d managed to stay clear of it. But one irritating and unforgettable woman later, and he was in with the rest of the fools.

  Speaking of Diana, he must have screwed up epically or she wouldn’t still be carrying a grudge. Despite what she and everyone else might have believed, he’d been a sixteen-year-old virgin in those days. He might have been wild with fast cars but he’d never been with a girl. Somehow he’d developed a reputation despite it. Not that he went out of his way to correct anyone. These days, he had plenty of offers for female company on a daily basis but he hadn’t been with a woman in two years. He figured it was too difficult to start a relationship right now. Most women wouldn’t put up with him being gone for long stretches at a time, which he fully intended to do if he could get assigned to the wildfires. He was single, free and clear of any major responsibilities and he realized he could do some good for once.

  Instead, everyone seemed determined to set him up.

  Not to mention that the women who were after him were a little desperate and a lot nuts. Leticia Weathersbee had handcuffed herself to her bed and then lost the keys, he strongly suspected purposely. When she’d called the fire department for help, he’d been the one stuck working on her for an hour while she wore nothing but a towel he’d thrown on her. Then she’d privately offered him an off-duty blow job as a thank you for his troubles.

  He’d thanked her for offering, but was going to have to pass on that one.

  Annie Lane kept losing her cat in the tree. He had it on good authority she regularly placed him there. Poor cat. At times he wondered if any of these women could be arrested for wasting his time, but it was difficult to prove they were doing it on purpose.

  Of course, his mother had her own opinions on who he should date. Not to be outdone, each sister-in-law had campaigned for someone. Brooke thought he should date Fallon, Billy’s old high school girlfriend. Gen kept trying to fix him up with one of the temporary workers she’d hired at the bakery, a twenty-something girl who couldn’t even look him in the eye. They were all girls from town, and all knew him and his family. Consequently, each one of them looked at him with a kind of hero worship a guy could get sick of pretty quickly.

  Diana hadn’t grown up here, and she didn’t know him that well. She didn’t have the slightest amount of hero worship for him. In fact she pretty much appeared to have no use for him at all. Kind of refreshing, if he was being honest. Given that he was regularly treated at The Tavern to rounds on the house such that he hadn’t paid for a drink since he’d been back state side, Scott understood Diana was different. She remembered the wild and irresponsible kid. He could see no small amount of judgment in her eyes, like she alone was clued in to just how many people in his life he’d already failed.

  Something new to him, not wholly unexpected, and for once exactly what he deserved.

  Chapter 4

  Diana checked to see whether the video had been taken down every day. No luck. One week later, the video had taken on a life of its own. Worse, a local restaurateur who fancied himself a blogger of all things having to do with Starlight Hill, had put up a version of the video on his blog. The version set to “All About That Bass”, definitely not her favorite. Stephan “My two cents for what it’s worth” stated plainly in a disclaimer that he was asserting his first amendment right to free speech, and any other amendments that might apply. Fortunately, the comments were mostly tame.

  All of that was bad enough, but three days ago, Diana had received a package in the mail with a bathrobe in it. No name, but a note: Might want to cover up next time. This should help. Diana tore up the note, and let Gran think that Mom had mailed her the robe she’d forgotten to bring with her.

  Next, a note from someone: Were you alone or planning to meet someone? Please be honest. Signed, Worried Wife.

  That note bothered Diana more than the other one. Someone in town thought she hadn’t been alone that night.

  She hadn’t seen Scott since asking for his help, which was just as well. The man was all manner of distraction for her, and she couldn’t afford to get off track with her new life. After six years of Bradley, anyone would need a break from men. At least Gran still had her wits about her, and now all she had to do was talk her mother into realizing it. Also of course, find a job and an apartment.

  Diana showered and dressed, expecting another big breakfast. She’d probably gained five pounds since arriving at Gran’s.

  She found Gran in the kitchen. “Morning.”

  “Good morning, dear. I’ll have breakfast ready in a jiffy.”

  Diana grabbed a mug of coffee and took a seat the kitchen table. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I want to.”

  “Today I thought we’d organize all your magazines and books. Then I’ll box them up and put them in the attic for you.”

  Gran pointed her spatula at Diana. “You should go and hang out with some young people. Like Genevieve. She’s a wonderful girl, and you would love her. I think she’s right about your age. You might have played with her when you and Mandy were younger.”

  “But I’m here to hang with you.”

  “You’re too young to hang out with an old lady like me.”

  “Is that your way of avoiding my organization efforts?”

  “Not at all. I just want you to do the healthy thing, and socialize with people your own age.”

  “And I want you to socialize with people your own age!”

  Gran shook her head. “People my age are dead, dear.”

  Diana sighed. “Not all of them.”

  “Fine, fine. Maybe I’ll do bingo if that will get you to shut up.”

  “Great!” Progress, at last. “I’ll even go with you. It should be fun.”

  Gran fanned herself with the spatula. “For the love of all that’s holy, it’s hot today.”

  Someone rang the doorbell. “Mrs. Paulsen! It’s me!”

  “It’s Genevieve.” Gran set her spatula down and walked towards the door.

  “I’ll get the door. You sit,” Diana ordered.

  Shockingly, Gran listened.

  Diana opened the door to the prettiest redhead she’d ever seen. Usually red hair was hard to pull off. “Hi! I’m Genevieve Turlock.”

  “I’m Diana. Betty’s granddaughter.”

  “I think I remember you! You used to visit summers, didn’t you? Didn’t we play Barbies once?”

  “Uh, maybe?”

  She smiled ear to ear and held out a box. “I’ve got pastries.”

  “Come in, Gen, dear,” Gran’s voice could be heard from just inside.

  Diana supposed they had company now. Never mind that the house was a disaster and Diana didn’t feel much like entertaining. The girl seemed nice at least, and she did have to thank her for being such a good neighbor.

  Genevieve walked right past Diana like she owned the place. “Hey, Mrs. Paulsen. Sorry I haven’t been by lately, but I heard you had company. Anyway, I’ve got your favorites.”

  Gran’s face split in a smile. The woman loved her sweets, and the proverbial grand-apple didn’t fall far from the tree. Gen set the box down and flipped it open. Diana tried not to salivate. She hadn’t eaten sugar in months, but she’d substituted chips in its place.

  “I have to thank you for the way you’ve looked in on Gran all this time,” Diana said, refraining from taking one of the cinnamon rolls. It seemed that she was stuck in some kind of staring contest with it. She was pretty sure that roll wanted her as much as she wa
nted it.

  “Oh, no problem,” Genevieve said, getting plates from the cupboard. “I used to live next door. You probably already know that. But now I’m married, thank God. To the love of my life.”

  “Uh-huh. So happy for you,” Diana said. Genevieve seemed to know where everything was located. She dug utensils out and napkins and arranged them all on the table.

  Gran smiled as Genevieve put a tiny Bundt cake on her plate. “Perfect. Diana and I were just about to have a hot breakfast but this is so much better.”

  Genevieve put the cinnamon roll on a plate and gestured for Diana to sit. “For you.”

  Genevieve was apparently psychic too. Diana shouldn’t be rude to her, so she sat down. “Thanks.”

  “I’m so sorry about the fire. I heard you lost everything.” Genevieve put her hand on Diana’s shoulder.

  “Just about. I’m grateful no one was hurt.”

  “Indeed. Count your blessings, I always say. How long will you be in town?” Genevieve asked.

  “The whole summer!” Gran answered.

  “I’ll find an apartment as soon as possible. A short-term rental,” Diana said.

  “No rush, dear.” Gran turned to Gen. “Diana is a writer. Graduated with her MFA in creative writing.”

  “But I’m not—”

  “You’re a writer! What are you working on?” Genevieve asked.

  “I can’t really talk about it. Special project,” Diana said, and blushed.

  The fire inspector had said she could go by the fire station to pick up what was left from the fire. She expected the laptop would be gone, but at least her finished novel was in a cloud somewhere. Should she ever want to go back and revise for the twentieth time. Last night she’d started on her experiment again using the Alphasmart, and gone on for two pages before she’d decided to take a long sanity break.

  Right now this cinnamon roll was about her only slice of happy. She’d take it. “This is delicious.”