Forever Love on Fireweed Island (Island County Book 4) (3 page)

“Let go, and I’ll catch you.”

“I’m too heavy.”

“Doubtful. Let go.”

“I can’t.”

“You can either let go willingly or wait until your hands slide off, but I won’t leave here until I’ve got you.”

“Last time this happened, I broke my arm.”

His hands wrapped around my calves, and I peeked below to see the extremely handsome man grinning.

“You can touch me?” I squeaked out.

“Yup.”

“I’m up at least thirty feet.”

“Nope. About twelve. You’ll slide right around my neck, and I’ll get you to the ground.”

My hands began slipping as the sweat increased, and I knew I had no other choice but to trust this stranger and let go.

“Ready,” I said firmly.

“On three-two-one,” he directed, and I freed my fingers, feeling his arms guide my body where it needed to go to land safely.

In under a second, the handsome man was kneeling as the other fireman helped me off his shoulders and to solid ground. My hands still trembled as I took my first step onto the grass. It took all I had to not kiss the ground I walked on.

“Thank you. I had no idea that would happen. I thought—”

“Happens all the time.” He stood up and removed his goggles, giving me an entirely new reason to be weak in the knees.

“Not to me. I tend to keep myself in situations where both feet are firmly planted on the ground.”

“You mentioned you already broke your arm once doing that?” he pointed to the tree.

“I was eight and misjudged a tree fort’s stability. A mistake never to be repeated.” I smiled. “Except if an animal’s life hangs in the balance.”

He pulled up a sleeve and pointed at his incredibly muscular forearm. I spotted a scar wrapping around his arm up to his elbow. “Same thing, only I was thirteen and the railing broke off a deck.”

“Ouch.”

“And you still like to climb trees?”

“Once you fall and realize it wasn’t that big of a deal, it makes it easier to climb up again.”

“But you broke your arm,” I pointed out. He studied me as I spoke, and subtle tension filled the air before he responded.

“But I didn’t die.”

I crossed my still-trembling arms. “Huh. I guess if that’s your measure, then the sky’s the limit.”

“Absolutely. Makes it easier to say no to skydiving, but I’ve done that too.”

“I’m sure you have.” I smiled, noticing the sting from the coffee.

I lifted my cotton shirt from my skin and hissed as the sexy stranger’s eyes moved to my stomach.

“Whoa. What’s going on there?” he asked.

“Spilled coffee when I heard Mrs. Coleville scream.”

“Burns can be ugly. Do you mind if I check the injury out?”

My cheeks flared with redness to match my burn as I held the damp material away from my skin.

“Umm. It’s fine. Just stings a little. I think the adrenaline helped take the burn away until now.”

He shook his head and took a step forward. “You should have immediately removed your shirt from the burned skin.”

“I had to save Mrs. Coleville. I thought she was being murdered. I couldn’t rip my top off and be taken seriously if—” I slammed my mouth shut, realizing what slipped out.

His brow arched, and I felt an immediate warmth run through my body.

“Anyway, I’ll just put some aloe on it,” I said, fanning the damp fabric and trying to cool my skin that was somehow beginning to feel like I belly-flopped on a stove.

“Do you mind?” he asked, his gaze connecting with mine. “I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t take a look and make sure you were okay.”

“Fine,” I huffed, unbuttoning the last couple of buttons on my shirt. “If it’s for the sake of your career.”

“Just another box to check off.” He kneeled down, his face only inches from my bare belly, and I watched him carefully lift the fabric.

“Red and swollen, but no blisters.” His fingers grazed my sides as he laid the fabric down, and his gentle touch curled my toes. “First degree. Change out of your shirt, put a cold compress on the burned area—not ice—and put some aloe on it. It might peel in a few days.”

I nodded, worried if I answered, he’d hear how worked up I got from his innocent touch.

“Hey, Jake. Call came in. Fire at the marina,” the other fireman shouted.

My heart rate spiked at the news. Our marina?

“Gotta go.” He spun around and jogged to the small fire engine, and just like that, I watched the fire truck speed away.

“So you’re telling me you were dangling from Mrs. Coleville’s old maple, and Jake Harlen saved you?” Natty asked, swirling her iced latte before taking another sip.

Natalie was my younger sister, town florist, and all-around best friend to many, myself included.

“You’re missing the bigger picture here, Natty. I saved Mrs. Coleville’s dog, Coco. It was a harrowing experience. Coco almost died. I almost died.” I shoved my half-eaten enchilada away.

Natty rolled her eyes and blew some stray strands of brown hair from her cheeks.

“Are we talking about the same maple tree I’ve driven by many times on the way to your house?” Natty grinned and took another sip. “Because if we are, no one was going to die. Well, Coco might not have made it, but you definitely would’ve bounced back if you were only a few limbs up.”

I flashed her an evil stare and crossed my arms. “It definitely could’ve been the end of me.”

“You’ve been reading too many adventure books.”

“I haven’t read a single one in months.”

“Sure you haven’t.”

“It’s true. I’ve been on a historical fiction kick.” I glanced toward the water. “And maybe a few shifter romances.”

“That sounds more like it.” Natty chuckled.

We’d met on the patio at our local Baja Bob’s Burrito Bar that offered a great view of the water and cheap eats. Even with the ordeal this morning, I’d somehow managed to make it to work on time, and I was now on my lunch break, hoping for a little sympathy from my sister.

“I even got burned,” I added.

“Now
that
I feel bad about, but how in the world did you get burned in a tree?” Natty’s eyes sparked with interest as I let out a groan.

“I spilled scalding coffee all over me when I jumped up to save Mrs. Coleville. If you’d heard her screams, you would’ve thought an ax murderer was on her doorstep.”

Natty giggled and straightened up in her chair.

“Jake took a look at my burns, and he said the skin would probably peel over the next few days. I’ve got aloe all over, and that’s why I’m wearing a sundress.”

Natty’s brow quirked up instantly. “He checked out your burns?”

“He said it was part of the job, and who was I to disagree?” I smiled.

“Where did you spill the coffee?”

“My stomach and thighs, but I only let him see my stomach, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“Curious.”

“I thought my dangling from a tree was a tad more enthralling, but whatever. So what’s the big deal about Jake?”

“Nothing. Doesn’t sound like you’re interested, so what’s it to you?” She took a sip, eyes wide, as she made slurping sounds. It didn’t matter how old we got, we both managed to resort to our fifteen-year-old selves.

“I just never saw him around before.”

“Precisely.”

“Precisely what?”

“You never saw him around before.”

“That’s what I said.”

“I know.”

“Do you realize how much more informative standing in front of an unopened book would be rather than talking to you?”

“I can imagine.” She nodded, expressionless, except for the twinkle in her eyes. “Do you think he’s cute?”

“Who wouldn’t? Blond hair and blue eyes, with a tan covering his entire muscular body—he’d give romance cover models a run for their money. And there was this vibe about him.”

“How did you see his entire body?”

“I didn’t, but I can imagine it would be quite nice and bronzed to match his face and arms.”

“He’s single. Divorced.”

“Recent?” I asked.

“Not sure. Don’t think so, actually. He’s kind of a recluse.”

Our server delivered our check, and I swiped the bill away from Natty.

“My treat, and he can’t be a recluse if he goes out on calls. That’s forcing himself out in public.”

“Jake’s part of the volunteer firehouse down south and picks up slack for the main house. Doubt it’s that active. And what kind of vibe are we talking?”

“I don’t know. It’s hard to explain. He’s got an edge.”

And I felt very bizarre for thinking about him. Somehow, this entire conversation about my greeting death in a maple turned to my nonexistent love life. A breeze picked up my napkin, and I smacked it back down with a thud.

“I wonder if it’s going to rain?” I glanced toward the sky.

“Beats me. Since when did you ever care about Fireweed’s weather patterns?”

“Since I don’t want to keep talking about the fireman—or any man. I’ve barely gotten the heebie-jeebies out of me from the last one. I’m enjoying falling for men in the books I read and nothing more.”

“Okay. No more talk about men, except for my man. Cole’s headed down to LA on Wednesday. He’ll be gone with Anthony, his brother, to do some PR stuff for Crimson Strings. Want to make it a pseudo-girls’ night this Friday?”

“Pseudo?”

“Nick will probably stop by for at least an hour. He’s gotten used to mooching off us every Friday for dinner, and I can’t buck tradition.”

“He’s so cute.”

Nick was another one of Natty’s best friends, and he always managed to pop up enough to where you’d think he might be related.

“He is rather adorable. Kind of like a stray dog you just can’t turn away.”

“That’s so mean.” I laughed.

“That’s his own self-professed description. He paints himself to be vulnerable, and then he strikes. But he’s working on a big order this week, so maybe he won’t show up.”

“I wonder what Jake does for a living?” I asked, not realizing what tumbled out.

“No idea,” she responded without missing a beat. “That’s why we pegged him a recluse. None of us knows a thing about him.”

“Well, he didn’t seem like a hermit. He’s even been skydiving. But who all is doing the talking about this poor, unsuspecting soul behind his back? Do you guys do that about me?”

“No. Never, but it’s just loose chitchat in town, so who knows if anything is true? It’s like the telephone game. But how in the world did you find out that he jumps out of planes? Who does that?”

“Sexy firemen do things like that. Anyway, sounds like he’s a man who likes to be left alone, and I have no problem leaving his fire bell alone.”

“Dear God. You have been out of the dating pool way too long.”

I giggled. “You’re probably right, and I have no intentions of changing that any time soon.”

“You could always climb up a shrub again and see if he’ll come to your rescue.” She laughed as the server came by to grab my debit card.

“It wasn’t a shrub. Maples get really tall.”

“Not the limb that Coco was on.”

“Coco is doing fine. Thank you for asking.”

“I didn’t ask because I know Coco is doing great. She’s like Pickles. Coco is the canine rescue with nine lives. That’s not the first time Coco’s been chased by wildlife, and it certainly won’t be the last.”

“No way. That cute little furball?”

“She got into it with a seagull, and the seagull lost. Big time. The poor bird landed in front of Coco, and she pounced in front of the bird—not on it, just in front of it—and showed some teeth. Next thing Mrs. Coleville knew, the seagull puffed out its chest, let out a piercing mew call, and fell over, webbed feet sticking straight out, stiff as a board and dead to the world. Ever since that incident, Coco’s been fearless about wildlife in the backyard.”

“That might have changed after being carried around in the grips of a coyote’s mouth.”

“Not sure Coco’s packing a lot of brain power in that tiny body.”

“Your sister just risked life and limb for that little dog. Don’t start picking on the tiny gal. Besides, you’re the one still nursing Pickles, the meanest cat on this side of the Pacific, into her geriatric years.”

“You got me there.” She shrugged.

“Well, I’d better get back to the library. I’ve got a stack of holds that just came in and a budget meeting to prepare for.”

“I have a midweek wedding on Wednesday, so I should get back to the grind too. I’m so happy you’re back on Fireweed. It feels like all is right with the world again.”

“Things do feel right again,” I agreed, standing up.

“I only wish you would’ve told me all the things that were wrong along the way,” she said, scooting her chair back.

I pressed my lips together, and she gave me a hug before I could respond.

It was true. I’d hidden most of my marital problems from my family until they could no longer be hidden. I’d exhausted myself coming up with excuses for why I sounded depressed or why I never returned calls, and the more excuses I gave, the more I believed the things I’d said.

But then one night, when Rich was nowhere to be found, it all came crashing down when I looked in the mirror, and the only person I could blame for still being present in the relationship was the person staring back at me. I twisted the truth about my relationship for as long as I could until the fabric of lies stretched so thinly around my life I could no longer even deceive myself without going mad.