Heating Up (11 page)

It seemed to him that she tried a little too hard to avoid Griffin. Hey, not his concern, although he hated like hell that he'd put her in a difficult position. Then again, all social situations seemed to be painful for Dana. She interacted with people just fine, but he got the impression she felt like an outsider. He didn't know why; the townsfolk were pretty inclusive.

“I'll get us some pizza,” he said.

“Good, I'm starved. And then, after we eat, we can go.”

“Relax! We just got here.”

Aidan grabbed two plates and piled them with individual pizzas. Brady gave him an inquisitive look, the question clear:
WTF is going on between you and Dana?
There was nothing going on, but people should mind their own business. For some crazy reason, his entire family believed that at the eleventh hour Sue would come running back. Aidan knew differently, and a part of him was relieved. It was done between them. Her choice, not his. He wasn't the bad guy. But now he could move on.

“Tri-tip and chicken should be up soon,” Brady said and pointed to a table loaded with platters and serving bowls. “Salads, beans, chips, and guacamole are over there.”

“You need any help?” he asked Brady.

“Nah, I'm good here.” He moved a few pieces of chicken away from the flame.

“Nice ring you got my sister, by the way.”

Brady gazed over at Sloane, his face splitting into a big grin. “I like that it's official. There was a time when the idea of commitment. . . marriage . . . it sent me running for the woods. Not with your sister, though. So maybe it's all about being with the right person.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Aidan lifted his plate. “I better get this to Dana before the pizza gets cold.”

He grabbed a wad of napkins and some silverware and brought the pizza back to the table. Dana passed him his bottle of beer and methodically cut her pizza into six perfect slices. Aidan just ate his whole, using his hands.

Dana took a bite. “Wow, this is good. I think it's the best Margherita pizza I've ever had.”

Aidan fanned the roof of his mouth. “Good but hot.”

“What did Brady say to you?”

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

“Bull. He and everyone else now thinks I'm your rebound woman.”

“Because we kissed? Nah, we were just goofing around. No one thinks that.” Except for Sloane, who definitely did.

She took another bite of pizza. “Of course they do. Obviously you've never lived in a small town before.”

He flashed a flirtatious smile, enjoying working her up, then pulled her into his lap. “Should we give them something to talk about?”

She quickly scrambled away, dragging that round rear end of hers across his groin, leaving him stiff as a rod. To hide the evidence of his arousal, Aidan tucked his lap under the table.

“Knock it off, Aidan. I'm not your rebound girl, your consolation prize, or a good-time distraction.”

“I never said you were. You're my friend.”

She glared at him. “You always kiss and hold your friends in your lap?”

“Not my firefighter ones, that's for sure. They're hairy and don't smell as good as you.”

The truth was, he didn't flirt with his female friends either, but he really hadn't meant anything by the kiss. Dana was just fun to antagonize. And he liked seeing her go from uptight, cookie-cutter suits to sexy, low-cut sundresses. He liked watching her convert from stickup-her-ass real estate agent to out-of-her-shell hot chick. Most of all, he liked being the one to provoke the transformation.

“Looks like our main course is ready.” Aidan watched Brady take the beef and chicken off the grill. “Let's fix ourselves a plate.”

“I'm stuffed from the pizza, but I don't want to pass up a chance to taste Brady's cooking. I've only had it one time before. I was meeting a client at the Lumber Baron when he was the chef there. It was only breakfast, but it was fantastic.”

“According to Sloane, he caters every wedding, party, and event around here. Haven't you been to any of those?”

“Nope. This is my first Brady Benson party.”

He wondered why. This wasn't the kind of town to leave people out, yet she hadn't gotten an invite to Tawny and Lucky's wedding. She might not be outgoing, but there was nothing dislikable about Dana. If there was, and he didn't know about it, Sloane would've told him. It seemed to him that she'd intentionally turned herself into the town wallflower.

“Well, let's do it.” He got to his feet and helped her to hers.

“I understand you're trying to forget Sue,” she whispered and gazed across the pool to Griffin. “And frankly I don't mind people thinking that you and I . . . flirt, or whatever. But try to behave yourself.”

“I'll try,” he said, attempting to look contrite while pinching her ass.

She danced away and he got waylaid by Harlee, who introduced herself and told him that she owned the
Nugget Tribune
, a digital-only newspaper.

“I want to do a story on fire season, especially given how bad it is this year. I'm interviewing Captain Johnson for the piece. But I want to do a sidebar on fire safety tips. Would you be up for that?”

“Absolutely.” He liked being in the paper, and despite Sue's admonitions that he was calling too much attention to himself, he used to be quoted all the time in the
Chicago Tribune
.

She took down his cell phone number and Aidan caught up with Dana at the buffet, where she deliberated over whether to go for the chicken or tri-tip.

“Just take a little of both,” he told her.

“I don't want to seem like a pig.”

“Oh, for Christ's sake.” He grabbed one of the serving forks, speared her a couple of slices of beef and a chicken breast, then proceeded to fill his own plate. “There's enough food here to feed a small country. No one cares how much you eat.”

“Where you going?” She clutched his arm. “Our table is over there.”

“Yeah, we're joining the party now.” He put one hand at the small of her back and maneuvered her over to Sloane's table. He felt her stiffen, but to her credit, she didn't complain.

They took the chairs next to Harlee and Colin. Griffin, Lina, Samantha, and Nate sat across from them. Lilly was more interested in playing under the table.

“Brady, come sit,” Sloane called.

He brought a platter of grilled shrimp. “Tell me what you think. I'm testing a new seafood vendor for the hotels.”

Brady didn't have to ask Aidan twice. Scooping up a large spoonful, he put some of the prawns on Dana's plate and took the rest for himself. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Sloane watching. Griffin too.

“I heard a rumor that you and Brady want to hold your reception here,” Harlee said to Sloane. All eyes turned to his sister.

Sloane in turn looked sheepishly at Griffin. “Don't worry; we planned to talk to you about it first.”

“Seriously, you want to have it here, by the pool?”

“We were thinking of doing a tent over there.” Brady pointed to the lawn overlooking the golf course. “Maybe do one of those dance floors over the pool. What do you think?”

“I think it would be awesome.” Griff high-fived Brady, then put his arm around Lina. “We'll let the other residents know we're throwing a private party.”

“Nah.” Brady waved his hand in the air. “We'll invite everyone in the development. That way no one will be pissed about losing out on their amenities for a day.”

“Another wedding to plan!” Samantha gave Sloane a hug. “I'm so excited for you guys. To think Lucky and Tawny's is just two weekends away.”

“How is that coming along?” Sloane asked.

“Perfect,” Sam said. Aidan knew she was Breyer Hotels' corporate event planner and, like Brady with the catering, pitched in on local parties. “Completely organized, and by the time they come back from their honeymoon their house should be finished, right, Colin?”

“Barring any unforeseeable setbacks we're good to go. Then we move on to Dana's house.” Colin gave Dana a thumbs-up.

“Are you loving the plans?” Harlee asked her.

“I am.” Dana swallowed a shrimp before continuing. “I can't believe how big it'll be.”

Apparently, the news hadn't reached Sloane yet because she had a questioning look on her face.

“Dana's adding a second story with all the bells and whistles,” Aidan supplied.

“You've seen the plans?” Sloane asked.

“Of course,” Aidan smiled at Dana and caught Griffin watching.

What was it with him? Aidan wondered. He seemed to be paying a little too much attention to a woman he'd dumped for someone else. It irked Aidan. Maybe Griffin got off on pitting two women against each other. Made him feel like a big man. Aidan was just about to shoot him a dirty look when he felt something tugging at his knees. Under the table, he found Lilly pulling herself up, using him to keep balance.

He pulled her onto his lap to shrieks of delight and a big toothy grin.

“How old is she?”

“Eighteen months,” Nate said.

Lilly gazed at Aidan with big, adoring brown eyes and he fell in love. He definitely wanted one of these.

“Who knew I had a big flirt on my hands?” Nate said, and everyone at the table laughed.

“Kids love the big oaf,” Sloane said. “It's one of those unsolved mysteries.”

The ring of Aidan's cell phone filled the air, and for a second he felt too paralyzed to pull it from his pocket. What if it was Sue?

“Aren't you planning to get that?” Brady asked.

“Yeah.” He handed Lilly off to Dana, got up from the table, and walked a distance to check the phone's caller ID. He stared at it for a few seconds and took a deep breath. “Whaddya we got?”

“A suspicious brushfire near Upper Jamison Creek Campground in Plumas-Eureka State Park. About fifty acres so far. Looks like I have to call you in early.”

“You've got it, Captain.”

T
he day before the Fourth of July, Ray Rosser's lawyer finally called Dana. The old man wanted the buyer to come up thirty thousand and they'd have themselves a deal.

Knowing Ray, he just wanted to taunt his lawyers, who were champing at the bit for their fees. And just to throw a monkey wrench into the situation, Clay McCreedy had caught wind of the offer, stomped into Nugget Realty and Associates, and was sitting in the conference room this very minute waiting to have a word with Dana.

Carol, unfortunately, was on her way to Santa Cruz with her family for the holiday, leaving Dana on her own to tangle with the intimidating cowboy. He owned one of the largest cattle ranches in California, was a war hero, and when he told the townsfolk to jump, they simply asked, “How high?”

He'd never said or done anything that would lead her to believe that he was anything less than a gentleman. Yet, he could still make her pee her pants with one snarl.

“Here's your coffee, Mr. McCreedy.” Dana shut the door and took the seat across from him at the table. “As I told you when you first came in, there's not really a lot I'm allowed to say to you.”

“Ray already told me what this secret client of yours is offering. And while it's a hell of a price for land like that, I can't match it.” He sipped the coffee while his piercing blue eyes locked on her. “I just want to make sure this corporation knows that Rosser's property is agricultural land. Putting in another Sierra Heights, a strip mall, or even a resort ain't gonna fly. I'll fight it tooth and nail and, Dana, I'll win. You'd be remiss in not telling your client that.”

“Mr. McCreedy, my client is well aware of what the land is zoned for.”

“No need to be so formal. My father was Tip and I'm Clay. These people cattle ranchers?”

He knew damned well the buyer wasn't a cattle rancher. While beef was a big industry in the West, the list of players was short. Word of an acquisition on this level would've spread faster than an outbreak of E. coli. “Clay, I can't give you that information.”

He let out a breath. “I've got to wonder what all the secrecy is about. Folks here know their neighbors. That land has been in the Rosser family for more than a century. It's always been used to run cattle. At the rate we're going, California's farmland will shrink so small that we'll have to get our food from a laboratory. These people know that?”

“I think they do.”

He made an exasperated sound. “When will we know who these folks are?”

“If and when a deal closes escrow, the buyer's name becomes public record.”

“I'm already aware of the name, Dana. The T Corporation.” He let out a cynical laugh. “I can't find one shred of information on the company anywhere. It's bogus. When will I know who owns it?”

When you see Gia Treadwell walking through the Nugget Market or getting an order of curly fries at the Bun Boy
. “I'm really not at liberty to say.”

“Well, I hope the T Corporation knows what it's getting itself into. Because if it intends to use that land for anything other than farming or ranching, that bullshit company can expect a hell of a fight on its hands.” Clay swiped his hat off the table and stalked across the room and out the door.

That went well
.

She waited for Clay to drive out of the parking lot in his big Ford truck and turned off the air conditioner. On her way out, she gathered her purse and paperwork, flicked off the lights, and headed home for lunch. Since Aidan had been on shift, the house felt so organized. She'd stacked all their subscription magazines in alphabetical order, divided their mail and put it in special holders with their names, and rearranged the garage. It was quiet too. Frankly, too quiet. She missed having him around, disrupting her tranquility, which was weird because she liked life orderly and peaceful. He, on the other hand, let kids wander in off the street to eat his Otter Pops, slung his wet bathing suit wherever it was convenient, and watched sports at ear-piercing levels.

Just for a change of scenery, she swung by the firehouse on her way home, and lo and behold, Aidan stood in the driveway washing one of the fire engines. She wondered if male firefighters were mandated to do that particular chore shirtless. It was certainly a brilliant PR strategy; any female fortunate enough to get an eye load of Aidan's sinewy chest, all tanned and rippled, was sure to give to the Firefighters Foundation.

She pulled over and rolled down her window. “Hey, you can do mine next.”

He turned off the hose and strolled over, big smile stretched across his face. “What's going on?”

“I just had a meeting with Clay McCreedy, who is not happy. How long have you been back?”

“We got in last night. That brushfire was a bitch, kept changing direction on us. Why is Clay McCreedy unhappy? He's the cowboy, right?”

“Mm-hmm. He's afraid my client is going to turn the Rosser place into a factory outlet mall.”

“Is she?”

“The land is zoned for agricultural use only.”

“That didn't answer the question.” He stuck his face in the window. “Where you off to?”

“Home, to eat lunch.”

“Come in the firehouse and have a sandwich with me.”

“Are you allowed to do that?” she asked, skeptical.

He opened the driver's side door and grabbed her hand. “Sure.”

She tried to resist but, in typical Aidan fashion, he wasn't taking no for an answer. The last thing she wanted was for him to throw her over his shoulder like he'd done the last time. So she followed him, curious to see what the inside of the station looked like. It was a lot cozier than she would've guessed, and quite clean.

The living quarters held a series of dormitories, a kitchen, a dining area, and a TV room. Nothing fancy, just utilitarian furniture that appeared to get a lot of wear and tear. But homey. Aidan showed her a small gym where a couple of guys were bench-pressing weights.

“This is Dana, everyone.”

The men grunted in acknowledgment, and Aidan led her to the kitchen, where he proceeded to pull out half the contents of the refrigerator.

“Sit.” He nudged his head at a nearby table and chairs and started building two sandwiches.

He put them on plates, cut each one crosswise, and served them up with a pile of potato chips and two cold cans of soda. “Dig in,” he told her, taking a bite of his own sandwich. “So did this Clay guy give you a hard time?”

“Not really. I think he was just frustrated by my answers because I had to be vague. We're still in negotiations. I can't give out details at this point.” Or at any point, according to the nondisclosure document she'd signed.

“He's that worried about an outlet mall?” Aidan took a gulp of his soda. Dana liked the way his Adam's apple moved when he swallowed.

“That was hyperbole. Sierra Heights was before my time, but it caused a big brouhaha with the residents. People don't like change, they don't like seeing their rural town becoming homogenized with minimansions, and I can't blame Clay for being concerned that the nation's largest agricultural state is at risk of being developed into track homes and shopping centers. But I can't tell him anything about my client's reason for wanting the property, especially while we're still in discussions.”

“You think it's gonna happen?”

Dana shrugged. “My client, a corporation, really wants it, but we're talking big bucks. Ray Rosser just countered for more money.”

“You told me it was a woman and she just wanted a piece of horse property,” he said.

“It's a corporation now,” which was totally true. “And there are some horses involved.” She noticed he had circles under his eyes. “You look tired.”

“Knocking down fires is tiring work.” One side of his mouth tipped up in a sly half smile, and she was pretty sure she'd just developed a heart murmur. “As long as we don't get called out again, I'll sleep tonight and be in my own bed by tomorrow. What are your plans?”

She wasn't sure what he meant. “For what?”

“The Fourth. What, all this real estate stuff make you forget it was a holiday?”

She usually just sat home and gorged on Calloway chocolate stars. “What's there to do? Fireworks have been canceled on account of the dry conditions and the fire danger.” Of course he was aware of that already.

“I thought we'd grill and invite a few people over.”

He said it like they were a couple. “Hey, it's half your house; you can do whatever you want.”

“Good. Then we're having a party. Get a few of your friends to come.”

The only person she had to invite was Carol, who was in Santa Cruz. “A little late notice, don't you think?”

“No. Not when free food and beer is involved. You can bet some of these guys will come.” He motioned toward the TV room, where a few men were sacked out on couches and easy chairs.

“My friends have busy social calendars,” she lied.

“That's okay. We'll make it a small gathering.”

We'll
. He kept saying
we'll
as if this barbecue he'd concocted would be a joint effort. She didn't have any friends to invite, didn't know any of his coworkers, and didn't know how to grill. So what exactly was she bringing to this party?

One of the guys from the TV room wandered into the kitchen in a pair of Hawaiian shorts and a T-shirt that read, “Feel safe at night, sleep with a firefighter,” and gave her a slow perusal.

“I'm Hutch.” He stuck his hand out for Dana to shake it. “You the probie's girlfriend?”

“This is Dana,” Aidan said, and Dana noticed he didn't address Hutch's question. “We're having a barbecue tomorrow. Bring your girlfriend.”

“Yeah? I'll bring beer . . . and fudge,” Hutch said. Dana thought the combo was rather random. “You live around here, Dana?”

“She lives with me.”

Not knowing whether to clarify that they were only roommates, Dana decided to stay quiet. Less complicated. “And you? Where do you live?”

“Glory Junction.”

“It's so cute there.” Occasionally, she got a listing in the ski resort town, which was thirty minutes away.

“Born and raised.” Hutch tapped his chest. “My mother and aunt own Oh Fudge!”

“You're kidding.” That explained the fudge offering. “I love that place. We have something in common . . . my family owns Calloway Confections.”

“Get out!” he said. “Calloway Confections . . . whoa, that's on a whole different scale than my ma's little business.”

“They both make candy. And both operations are family run. That's the way I look at it.”

“Right on,” he said, and before Dana realized it, they were fist bumping.

She glanced over at Aidan, who shot her a grin, gathered up the sandwich plates, and took them to the sink.

“I better let you get back to work.”

“I'll walk you out,” he told her.

As they headed for the door, she turned to Hutch, who had his head stuck in the refrigerator. “See you tomorrow.”

“Looking forward to it,” he called back.

Outside, the temperature had risen at least ten degrees, and Dana couldn't wait to get out of her navy blue pantsuit. In the heat, the pants were starting to stick to her.

“You want me to make a Reno run tonight to get some food for the party?”

Aidan absently tucked a strand of hair that had come loose from her bun behind her ear. “Nah, wait until tomorrow morning when I'm off. We'll go together.”

She supposed the big supermarkets would be open. “Okay.”

“Stay cool,” he said as she got in her car.

“You too.” She turned on the ignition to get the AC running and suddenly asked, “Did you and Sue used to entertain a lot?”

“In the beginning we did.”

“Why not later?”

He hitched his shoulders. “We had different ideas of what a party should be.”

Dana was dying to know more but didn't feel right about prying. If Aidan had wanted to elaborate he would've. Yet she couldn't help wondering if it was one of the reasons Sue had run off with someone else. Crazy woman. In Dana's mind, Aidan McBride was the epitome of perfect. No one had ever made her feel more at ease and so included. Odd that it had taken a newcomer like Aidan to make her feel like she belonged in Nugget, even though she'd been here first.

“Hasta la vista
,
”
she said and pulled away from the curb, smiling. They were having a party.

* * *

Aidan got a kick out of watching Dana decorate. Like with everything else she did, there were lists and charts and Excel spreadsheets. If the act of organization didn't make her so damned happy, Aidan would've found it tremendously annoying. Not that he was a psychologist or anything, but he got the impression that it helped her cope with situations that made her nervous.

Like the idiotic closet organizer was really a metaphor for putting order back into her life after the fire had destroyed it.

“It's just a casual barbecue,” he reminded her.

“I know.” She looked up at the red, white, and blue paper lanterns she'd hung from the trees and winced. “Oh God, I overdid it, didn't I?”

“Nah. I like 'em. Very patriotic and festive. Good choice.”

She beamed. “What about the centerpieces?”

“Meh.” He rocked his hand back and forth, then laughed to show he was kidding. “It's all good, Dana.”