Brave the Heat (10 page)

And wasn’t that the point?

* * *

The sun was starting to set by the time all the others had left. Gavin closed up the back of his truck, after securing his spare gear. He’d learned a long time ago that his job as chief wasn’t the kind of gig he could leave when he went home. He was never really off duty, at least not in his own mind.

Groaning, his body sore and tired, he got behind the wheel and snagged his cell phone off the dash. He looked at the screen with the irrational hope that there would be a missed call or text from Jordan, but there wasn’t. Not that there could be; he didn’t have her number and she didn’t have his. That hadn’t dawned on him until after he said he’d text her.

Dumb
ass.

Gavin swore under his breath and put the phone in the cup holder. Even with everything that had happened today, Jordan had never been far from his thoughts. He’d felt like crap leaving her there and bailing out on what he’d offered to do, but he couldn’t let the guys go out on that call without him. Rick was experienced, but the other guys were green and fresh out of training and their volunteer force rarely saw real action. Oh, they’d all been trained, but more often than not when they showed up, it was a false alarm or something minor.

How had things gone with her old man? Was she at home crying herself to sleep or did she pack her stuff and leave again?

Damn
it.

Starting the engine, he pulled a U-turn and headed back toward town, all the while going over all the different reasons he shouldn’t go over to her house unannounced. It was getting dark, and the girls were probably going to bed. She might not even be there. Even if she was at home, why the hell would she want him stopping over unannounced?

When he reached Shore Road though, Gavin idled at the stop sign and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. He stared out at the tall grasses along the edge of the road and listened to the seagulls overhead as the sun finished its slow descent. He was tired, sweaty, and probably stunk to high heaven. He should take a left toward his place up on the bluff, go home, take a shower, and see her tomorrow at the flower shop.

As that rational thought went through his head, Gavin hit the blinker and took a right. The old Sweeney place was only a few houses from the end of street, and for a moment, Gavin thought Jordan wasn’t home. But once he took the left into the long gravel driveway, her shiny silver wagon came into view. The sky burned orange and pink along the horizon as the indigo hue of the night sky began to emerge.

He put the truck in park and stared at the large picture window, with the soft glow of a lamp burning from within. Gavin gripped the gearshift. This was stupid. Totally freaking stupid. He should leave right now, he should—

Every thought went out of his head when Jordan’s tall, lithe form appeared in the window. He held his breath for a second. When he thought that he had indeed done something beyond stupid, Jordan waved. And he was pretty sure he saw a smile on those gorgeous lips.

“Too late to back out now,” he said to no one but himself.

Shutting off the engine, Gavin got out of the truck and stuck the keys in the pocket of his shorts. When he got a good look at his hands, still smudged with soot and grime, he groaned and cursed at himself.

“Nice job, showing up looking like a grimy pigpen,” he muttered, with only the seagulls to hear him.

He climbed the wooden steps to the front door and threw a prayer to the universe that this gamble would pay off…and that she’d let him use her sink.

When Jordan heard a car pull in the driveway, every irrational fear she had came roaring to mind. Was Ted here, drunk and furious? Had her father died? Did Gavin get hurt today on the job? Those thoughts, and more, shot through her mind one after the other.

After returning from her parents’ house, she’d turned on her cell phone only to discover three voice mails from Ted, each one angrier than the last. He was demanding to see the girls and furious that she’d moved out of the city. Based on the slurred speech and aggressive, angry messages, he was getting worse and his drinking was escalating.

She thought for sure that when she looked out the window, she’d be met with his hateful drunken glare. Already exhausted both physically and emotionally from the time with her father, she almost burst into tears at the prospect of having to face Ted.

She’d never been so happy to be wrong.

Instead of her drunken ex-husband, Jordan was met with the fierce green-eyed gaze of Gavin McGuire. Still dressed in his T-shirt and board shorts from this morning, he looked war-weary from the fire he’d been dealing with out on the edge of town. She’d overheard the two cashiers gossiping about it when she’d stopped at the market. Once she’d heard the word “arson,” she’d figured Gavin would have his hands full. After a day like that, the man should be on his way home to get some rest.

But here he was, standing in her driveway.

The poor guy looked dog-tired as he strode toward the house, and she couldn’t fathom why on earth he’d be here and not at home falling into bed. That thought instantly led to images of Gavin in bed, and Jordan’s cheeks heated at the idea.

Flustered and uncertain of what exactly was happening with Gavin, she waved at him through the window before going to the front door. The girls were still looking at books in their bedroom before lights out, and with any luck, they wouldn’t hear his arrival. She had a sinking suspicion that getting them back in bed after that would be a true battle. Gracie hadn’t stopped talking about Gavin or his magic trick all day.

Checking her reflection quickly in the little oval mirror next to the front door, Jordan grimaced. She took her hair out of the clip and ran her fingers through it quickly. Tucking a few stray hairs behind her ears, she wiped at the smudges of leftover mascara under her eyes. Not exactly a hot look. There wasn’t time to do much about it, however, and when he knocked, Jordan froze. Her feet wouldn’t cooperate. She stared at the door for a second before rolling her eyes and shaking her head with a growl of frustration.

What was she so nervous about?

Everything.

Jordan flipped the lock and tugged the heavy mahogany door open. Even though she knew Gavin was standing on the other side of it, the instant their eyes locked, she stilled. The wide, easy grin on his handsome face was both heartbreakingly familiar and strangely foreign. It gave her a glimpse of that boy she had loved so long ago behind the man who was something of a stranger. Or was he?

They stood there for a moment, eyes locked and neither one sure of what to say or do—until finally they both burst out laughing.

“Sorry,” Jordan said as their laughter faded. “Come on in.”

“Thanks.” Gavin nodded and stepped past her across the threshold. The lingering aroma of the fire he’d been dealing with clung to him in an invisible cloud. “Sorry I didn’t call first but—”

“You don’t have my number.” Jordan smiled and shut the door tightly. “It’s okay, Gavin. I realized that after you pulled away this morning.”

He surveyed the space casually, hands at his sides, before turning to face her. The entry hall, which had never seemed small before, suddenly felt like a sardine box as Gavin’s tall frame loomed large in front of her. What was it about him that filled every room and surrounded her so completely?

“The girls are in bed,” she said quietly. Jordan pointed to the staircase behind him. “If we’re quiet, we might luck out and it will stay that way.”

“Gotcha.” Keeping his voice low, Gavin glanced casually in that direction before taking a step closer. “I guess it’s a good thing I got here before you went to bed too.”

His eyes twinkled with mischief and that lopsided grin curved his lips, bringing out the dimple in his left cheek. Jordan nodded her agreement and tried not to notice the way the heat from his body wafted enticingly over hers. Gritting her teeth against the pulse of desire and the urge to touch him, she fought to find her voice and prayed she wouldn’t sound like the sex-starved woman she was. The funny thing was, until she saw Gavin again, she hadn’t given sex much thought for more years than she cared to admit.

“Why don’t we go into the living room?” Jordan swallowed the thick lump in her throat and quickly slipped past him. “It’s more comfortable in there.”

“I was pretty comfortable right where we were,” he murmured.

“Can I get you something to drink?” Jordan asked as she tried to ignore the suggestive tone in his voice. “Have you eaten yet? I was cleaning up from dinner. It’s Kraft macaroni and cheese. Not very fancy, I’m afraid.”

“Actually…” he said, holding out both hands, which were smudged with what looked like soot. He gestured to the open, airy space of the family room. “I don’t want to sit down or touch anything in here. All of the blue and white will get dirtied up. I’d love to use your sink and some soap, if you have it.”

“I have two children,” she said with a smile. “I have plenty of soap and a sink or two. Come on.”

She went into the kitchen with Gavin close behind. Just as it had been in the foyer, her kitchen seemed to shrink the instant he stepped into it. Gesturing to the faucet, she stepped aside and went to the fridge.

“How about a beer?” She glanced over her shoulder at him, her gaze skimming over his broad shoulders as he washed his hands. The T-shirt clung to him, revealing every muscle and the subtle movement of each of them as he shut off the water and dried his hands. “Or wine… I think I have wine somewhere.”

Jordan stilled, her hands gripping the edge of the stainless-steel refrigerator door, as she realized how
right
it felt to have Gavin standing in her house. She stared into the fridge without really seeing anything and nibbled her lower lip. After all of these years, with so much still unsaid between them, it felt completely normal to have him in her home. Why did it feel like he belonged here with her? Was she imagining it? Was it simply wishful thinking, or did Gavin fit perfectly in this picture? He sure as hell did.

The revelation was wonderful and terrifying.

“Jordan?” Gavin’s deep voice pulled her from her thoughts.

“Did you say a beer?” She was starting to babble and she knew it but still couldn’t stop herself. “I have some Amstel Lights in here or milk or juice boxes.”

“An Amstel is perfect, and if it’s cold, that’s even better.”

“A cold beer coming right up.” Jordan grabbed two beers from the fridge, and when she shut the door, she found Gavin standing to her right. She immediately stepped back and handed him a bottle. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” A smile slowly spread across his face as he opened the beer and took a long sip. He made a sound of appreciation and tipped the bottle in her direction. “That was exactly what I needed.”

“Really?” Jordan tossed her bottle cap in the sink and leaned against the doorway that led into the casual dining room, wanting and needing to keep some kind of space between them. She rubbed her thumb along the wet glass bottle and met his inquisitive stare with one of her own. “Came all the way out here to drink my beer, did you?”

“No.” Gavin’s smile faltered. “I—ah hell, Jordan. I was worried about you.”

“I know.” Her heart squeezed in her chest. “I’m sorry, Gavin. I didn’t mean for that to sound bitchy. But I am wondering why you came here after the day you had. I overheard the girls at the market talking about the fire. They said that you guys suspect arson.”

Keep
him
talking
about
regular
everyday
stuff
, she thought. Anything except the two of them because that conversation, the one she’d been avoiding for fifteen years, seemed frighteningly close. Then she’d have to admit to everything, and she wasn’t sure if she had the strength tonight.

Bullshit.
She wasn’t sure if she’d ever have the nerve.

“Yes. That’s where the evidence points at the moment.” Gavin nodded and put the beer bottle on the counter behind him before leaning both hands on the edge. “But I wasn’t the only one putting out a fire today, and I definitely didn’t come all the way over here to bore you with stories from work.” The tone of his voice softened. “How’d it go with your dad?”

“It was…not what I expected.” Jordan lifted one shoulder and wrestled to maintain her composure. “The man didn’t even know who I was, Gavin. He’s got full-on dementia. Honestly, I could have been the Queen of England and he would have reacted the same way.”

“Right.” Gavin narrowed his gaze. “So you couldn’t tell him off like you’d planned?”

Jordan clenched the bottle tighter. It was remarkably unsettling to have another human being see her so clearly. How long had it been since anyone had seen through her calm, cool facade? She’d gotten so good at pretending everything was okay, she’d almost forgotten how it felt like to truly share herself with another human being.

“How did you know that’s what I wanted to do?” Jordan whispered. “I never told you that’s why I was finally going back there. I mean, I never told anyone that’s what I planned to do.”

“I know you, Jordan.” He dropped his arms to his side and moved toward her. His voice was low and gruff. “Even after all this time, I know what drives you. Facing your old man and telling him what a son of a bitch he was, that was something you always wanted to do, even when we were kids. You came back here to rebuild your life, and I figured part of that plan involved telling your father that he couldn’t hurt you anymore.”

Gavin inched closer, his body wavering dangerously close to hers. The pungent smell of smoke, still clinging to him from the fire today, filled her head in seductive waves. His voice dropped to a gravelly whisper. “But there is something I still don’t understand, and I’m hoping like hell you can help me figure it out.”

“Wh-what?” Jordan shifted her body as he invaded her space, so that her back was pressed against the wall and the only thing between them was the bottle of beer clenched in her hand. “What is it?”

“It’s one question, really.” Gavin placed both hands on the wall, one on either side of her, caging her in. He leaned closer so that his face was a breath away from hers, and those intense, gorgeous green eyes zeroed in on her with laser-sharp focus. “Why did you leave me?”

Silence pulsed with each rapid beat of her heart, and Jordan swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. This was it. The moment of truth—and with it came the familiar urge to run. Duck under his arm and get the hell out of there. She could have. He would have let her leave, but she would only be prolonging the inevitable.

She had to tell him the truth. She owed him that much.

“I-I wasn’t leaving you,” she whispered shakily.

“You could’ve fooled me,” Gavin growled.

“That night at the lighthouse, when you laughed at me, at my dreams of being an actress, of building a new life away from here, I was so hurt, Gavin. For most of my life growing up, my father did nothing but tell me how stupid my dreams were and how foolish I was. And then when I
finally
told
you
—the one person I thought had my back—what I wanted to do, you shot me down and told me I couldn’t do it. You said it was a stupid idea and…I snapped.”

“I was only a kid, Jordan.” Anger edged his voice and a shadow passed over his face as he pushed himself off the wall, increasing the distance between them. “I mean, come on. I know I acted like a stupid, overbearing dickhead that night. I get it. But why did you leave town and then completely cut me off? I had no idea where you were. I was worried as hell! Do you have any idea what that did to me? You vanished into thin air.”

“I wasn’t leaving you,” she whispered. “I left because of my father.”

Jordan tilted her chin defiantly, her own anger and frustration bubbling to the surface. Straightening her back, she held his furious stare and finally told him the truth.

“After I got back from the lighthouse, my father came after me. He’d always been a bully, but that night he took it to a whole other level. I knew, deep in my gut… I always knew that his bullying, menacing, and screaming jags would eventually lead to violence. And that night they did.”

She slammed her beer on the counter and stepped closer to him, finally telling him the story she’d never told anyone. She unloaded her shame and spilled the dirty secret she carried around, the one that made her feel useless, weak, and defeated. “He punched me. Square in the face.”

“What?” Gavin paled visibly and his hands curled into fists as his entire body tensed. “He hit you. I knew it.”

“Let me finish.” She held up one hand and moved closer as she continued, her self-loathing bubbling to the surface. “Then, when I fell on the ground in a pathetic weeping heap, he kept telling me what a whore I was. That I was trash. He kicked me in the stomach a few times, until I thought I’d vomit or pass out. He might have actually killed me if he’d been a little less drunk. My mother finally pulled him off me and distracted him long enough for me to drag my bleeding ass up to my room.”