Heating Up (3 page)

“Look,” he said, “I know there isn't a lot around here for rent, and while your professionalism was commendable this morning, I could see in your eyes how disappointed you were to lose Tawny's place. It just so happened that timing wise it worked out perfectly for me. Otherwise, I'd be camping at my sister's place, which I could still do until I find something else. Or”—he hesitated—“you and I could share the house until yours is rebuilt. It's a two bedroom, and between my twenty-four-hour shifts at the firehouse and being called out on arson cases, I'll hardly be there. I'm still trying to sell a condo in Chicago, so it would help me with the rent. I've got enough furniture to fill the place. All you would need is a bed.”

It was an extremely generous offer, Dana thought. And it would save her from having to live next door to Griffin and Lina. But she didn't know the man from Adam. He could be a serial killer. Unlikely, given that his sister was a cop with the Nugget Police Department, but you never knew.

“Think about it,” he said, and tore a piece of paper off his clipboard, jotting down a telephone number. “You can reach me there. I'll be over at the house during the next couple of days getting it ready to move in.”

“Tawny hired professional cleaners,” Dana blurted, because she and Carol would never rent out a dirty house.

“The place is spotless,” he assured her. “I got a new flat-screen in Reno and want to install the surround sound. I've also got a washer and dryer coming. No sense moving my old ones cross-country.”

She supposed that was true. “I'll let you know by the end of the week. And thank you, Mr. McBride, the offer . . . it's above and beyond generous.”

“Hey, if we're gonna be roomies, just call me Aidan.” He got to his feet.

“Okay . . . Aidan.” She watched him walk away, unable to help herself from staring at his butt. She wasn't usually that pervy, but a butt that good shouldn't go to waste.

About thirty minutes later, Pat returned. “You want the good news first or the bad?”

“The bad.” Dana was definitely a bad-news-first kind of person.

“We're gonna have to do all new construction from the ground up.”

She'd already figured that out. “What's the good news?”

“You can rebuild it the way you want it. Maybe add a second story with a big master suite. Expand the kitchen.”

The house had been three small bedrooms and only one bathroom, which had been more than enough room for her. But having an en-suite bath and a contemporary kitchen would bring up the resale value of the house. Perhaps a big walk-in closet too.

“Won't that cost more money?”

“Not necessarily. Let's see what you get insurance wise and we'll work around it.”

“Really?” Dana's mood picked up at the idea. This might just be a way to make lemonade out of lemons, and lordy, she'd been delivered a whole lot of sour. Her fault of course. How stupid of her to have left a candle burning? “How soon can you get started?”

“We could do the demo right away. But you'll need architectural plans approved by the city before we can start building. And we're still finishing Lucky and Tawny's house on the ranch. So it could be a while.”

Not what Dana wanted to hear. “Once you get started, how long will it take?”

“That would depend on the plans, but, Dana, realistically, you won't be back in this house for a year.”

That might as well be a lifetime, she thought. No way could she occupy one of Griff's houses for an entire year. And one of the seasonal cabins up in the hills was out of the question. She'd freeze to death in the winter. When she got back to the office she'd scan the
Trib
for rentals. Not everyone used a real estate agent, and maybe she'd find a hidden gem she didn't know about. A girl could dream.

“You'll guarantee me that my house will be your next project?” she asked Pat.

“Absolutely. And we'll try to get you in as quickly as possible.”

“What do I do in the meantime?”

“You get those plans done. I'll get them through the city planning board, but we'll need blueprints pronto.” He took off his hard hat and grabbed coveralls from his truck toolbox. “Put these on. Colin is waiting for you with a few ideas. He's got a good eye—as good as any architect.”

By the time Dana got back to the office, her head swam with possibilities. Colin's vision for the rebuild included a great room off the kitchen, as well as a small office and powder room on the main floor. Upstairs, he had three bedrooms—one of them a huge master suite. The plan would use the same footprint as the old house but double the square footage by adding a second story. She really didn't need all that space, but if she could pull it off financially, the house would be worth a whole lot more and could wind up being her nest egg.

She immediately went online to search for rentals. There were exactly two: one she already knew about that had significant mold problems the owner refused to acknowledge, and a cottage on a nearby ranch. The rent was free in exchange for watering, feeding, and exercising the ranch's forty horses. Not only was it a full-time job but Dana didn't know the first thing about horses.

She was just about to check their competitor's website when Griffin came into the office. He had on shorts and a pair of flip-flops. Must be his day off—not that the man ever had to work a day in his life. He was independently wealthy because he was part Wigluk Indian and was entitled to a portion of the tribe's casino money, which was substantial.

“I've been looking all over for you,” he said.

“Haven't had time to get a new phone. What's up?”

“I'm worried about you, that's what's up. Lina said you're staying the rest of the week at the Lumber Baron. Why, when I've got a planned community full of empty houses? Colin will lend you some of his furniture.”

First off, the last person she wanted knowing her business was Lina Shepard. But given that Maddy was Lina's sister-in-law and she worked at the inn part time, Dana realized the impossibility of that. Secondly, didn't Griffin know how humiliating it would be for her to be reliant on him? Apparently, he didn't have a clue how much she'd cared for him . . . how much it had hurt her, knowing he'd been in love with Lina the whole time they dated? That's why Dana wasn't responsible for what she said next; the unrequited love gods made her do it.

“I'm renting Tawny Wade's place with Aidan McBride, Sloan's brother,” she blurted.

Griffin's eyes grew large. Good, let him be taken aback. “How do you know Aidan?”

“Carol and I have been working with him on finding a place. It turns out we have a lot in common.” Like they both didn't like living in their cars.

“Wow. That's great. Aidan's the real deal, man. And here I was worrying for nothing. You need money?”

“My house burned down, Griff, not my bank account.”
Why did he have to be so damn nice
?

“Okay.” He held his hands up. “Just trying to help.”

“I know, and I really appreciate it. But I'm fine. How do you know Aidan?”

“Met him when he came to visit Sloane in February. He was a hotshot arson investigator in Chicago. The dude's like a total stud. Good guy to have as a roommate. This news will make a lot of people feel better about your situation.”

Especially Lina
, Dana thought.

He reached in to give her a friendly hug. “You let me know if there is anything you need, you hear?”

“Between Aidan's new flat-screen and the washer and dryer he recently bought, we should be fine.” She smiled a little too brightly.

God, what had she gotten herself in to?

“Y
ou hardly freakin' know this guy.” Aidan sat on the stoop of his new house, hoping the neighbors wouldn't hear his telephone conversation. It was too hot to go inside.

“We've been seeing each other for the last six months and have worked together for more than a year, not that it's any of your business,” Sue huffed.

Nope, it wasn't, but he didn't want to see her make a mistake. “Whatever you want, then.”

She let out a mirthless laugh. “What I wanted was for you to get your shit together. Three years, Aidan. I wasted three years waiting for you to marry me. Anyhow, I just wanted you to hear it from me before you saw it on Facebook or Instagram. 'Bye, Aidan. Try to have a good life in California.”

She clicked off and he wiped the sweat off his face with the back of his hand. Damn, it was hot.

He and Sue had been playing phone tag all day and now he wished he'd never called her back. She'd dumped him for Sebastian, a fellow schoolteacher, more than six months ago. It had been a wake-up call. Yet, instead of fighting for her, Aidan's solution had been to move to Nugget. Yeah, a shrink would have a heyday with that one. So what did he expect? Of course she'd moved on.

He blotted at his face again, noticing how many people were sitting out, trying to catch a breeze. It was the kind of neighborhood where folks didn't think twice about dragging their sofas, TVs, and a couple of forties onto the front porch. Not the classiest.

Still, you could see the mighty Sierra mountains in the distance, smell the pines, and hear the occasional train whistle, which sounded nothing like the “L.” More like a beautiful riff on a blues harp. A dozen train songs came to mind. Just past the tracks was the Feather River. A few times he'd seen kids hiking down the street in swimsuits, carrying inner tubes. As soon as his stuff arrived, he'd get down there himself.

A brand new Outback pulled up, which seemed to be the car of choice around here. With its all-wheel drive, the car probably performed well in the backcountry, especially in the snow. Hard to believe Nugget got any on a day like this, when he could see steam coming off the blacktop.

Dana got out in those exceptionally nice jeans of hers and came down the walkway. He hadn't expected to hear from her until the end of the week—if at all. Even though he didn't really want a roommate, it had seemed selfish not to offer, given her situation. Hell, he'd seen her face cave the minute she'd learned he'd taken the place. Then she'd tried to pretend she had other prospects and he had tried to pretend he believed her.

But when he'd seen her later at her burned-down house, she'd looked so lost that he hadn't been able to help himself from making the offer. Playing the hero was sort of a problem of his. It went along with his profession, he supposed.

Now, looking at her, he wished he'd kept his mouth shut. She was hot and he'd been without sex for too long. He didn't need that kind of temptation lying in the bedroom next to his.

“Hey,” she said, and sat on the stoop with him. “You waiting for a delivery or something?”

“Nope. It's boiling in there.”

She nodded. “No air conditioning. If you're still okay with it, I'd like to take you up on your offer.”

“Sure. You want to move in tonight?” He was staying at Sloane and Brady's until his furniture came. She could have the place to herself.

“I reserved my room at the inn for the rest of the week and it'll take a few days to get a bed delivered, so next week.” She reached into her purse and handed him a check. “Here's half the deposit and the first month's rent.”

“Thanks.” He shoved it in his back pocket.

“Did you have a roommate in Chicago?”

“Until almost seven months ago I lived with my girlfriend. We broke up and she moved out. How about you?”

“No roommates since college. I guess we should make rules, right?”

He looked at her. They were both adults; what kind of rules? “Like I said, I have twenty-four-hour shifts at the firehouse and I suspect I'll be working a lot of overtime. You'll mostly live here alone.”

“I just meant chores' wise. Like who'll be responsible for the yard work, cleaning out the refrigerator, that kind of thing?”

Great. He was living with a drill sergeant. “I'll do the yard. We'll split the indoor stuff.”

“And groceries? Should we divvy up the shelves in the cupboards and fridge?”

Jesus, anal much? “However you want to do it, Dana.”

“I'll take the bottom shelves in the fridge and pantry because I'm shorter.” He nodded, trying to act like they'd resolved the next important thing to world peace. “I just need to measure my room. Which one is yours?”

“You can have whichever one you want.”

“No, you should have first choice. It's only fair since it's your house.”

“Then I'll take the one that isn't pink,” he said, and she laughed.

“It was Katie's room. She's Tawny and Lucky's daughter.”

She'd had leukemia but was in full remission. Aidan knew all about her. It didn't take long in this town to know everything about everybody. “You want me to paint it for you . . . unless you want to keep it pink?”

Dana was caught off guard by the offer. “I'll do it. I'm a good painter.”

He got the impression she was type A enough to be good at everything.

“I'll go measure now and get going.”

Aidan didn't know why, but he followed her into the house. She stopped in the living room and gazed at the walls.

“What do you think about painting in here too? Something cheery, like yellow.”

“Whatever you want.”

She gave him a long perusal. “You're awfully accommodating.”

Yeah, until his girlfriend wanted marriage. Then, not so accommodating. “It's just paint.”

For the second time he noticed her eyes. Golden, fringed with thick, dark lashes. She had a cleft in her chin and shiny brown hair that fell to her shoulders. It didn't look like she had much in the chest department, but it was hard to tell with the blouse she had on . . . and the fact that he was looking made this living-together thing an extraordinarily bad idea.

Clearly he needed to get laid. Six months was a long time to go without sex. Okay, there'd been that one time, four months after Sue had left him for Sebastian, when he'd gotten drunk and messed around with the bartender from Players. But it had never gone further than a few kisses and some over-the-clothes petting.

Someone knocked on the door and Aidan went to get it. Brady and his sister, who was holding a house plant, came in. They looked around the empty house and Sloane sighed loud enough for Aidan to hear. What did she expect? When his stuff got here, the place would look better.

“Happy housewarming.” Sloane shoved the plant at him and did a double take when she saw Dana. “I didn't think you would be working today. We're so sorry about your house, Dana.”

Brady tilted his head to meet Dana's eyes. “You doing okay?”

“I think I'm still in shock.” Her cheeks pinked. Aidan assumed it was because she'd burned her house down and by now everyone knew about it. “I'll be fine.”

“We were actually on our way to the Lumber Baron to leave something for you,” Brady said, and Sloane pulled an envelope from her purse.

“It's a Williams-Sonoma gift card,” Sloane said. “We figured you'd need kitchen stuff.”

“I don't know what to say.” Dana took the envelope and seemed a little bashful about it. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” She turned to Aidan. “I'll just measure my room and let you all visit.”

“Take your time.” He watched her disappear inside the pink room and called, “You need help?”

“Nope. I do it all the time.” Right, real estate agent.

Sloane fixed him with a WTF look. He shook his head as if to say
not now
.

“When's your stuff coming?” Brady asked. He clearly could take a hint better than Aidan's brainless sister.

“My moving truck, tomorrow. The washer and dryer came about two hours ago.” Before Sue had called him back.

“What do you plan to do with the garage?” Brady asked.

It had been Tawny's studio and a makeshift shop, where she sold her sample boots and seconds. It had heat, drywall, and tons of shelving.

“Park my truck in it.”

“All done.” Dana came out of the bedroom and shoved the tape measure in her purse. “And again, thanks for the gift certificate. You really didn't have to do that.”

“It's not much,” Brady said. “If there is anything we can do, you let us know. You got a tough break there, Dana.”

She nodded, and Aidan got the sense she was a little choked up.

“You have a key, or should I make you a copy?” he asked her.

“We keep a spare for all the rental properties in the office. I'll make a copy of that one.” She headed to the door, cleared her throat like she wanted to say something but instead shyly slinked out.

As soon as they heard her car pull away, Sloane said, “She's living here . . . with you?”

“It's a long story.” Aidan waved his sister off, not wanting to get into what a pushover he was.

“We've got nothing but time.” To prove her point, she sat on the floor in the middle of the living room.

Aidan turned to Brady for support, but his soon-to-be brother-in-law motioned for him to fill them in. “She didn't know Tawny had shown it to me and had planned to rent it while her place is being rebuilt,” Aidan said. “But I'd already signed the lease. Then I got to feeling guilty about it, so I offered to share. I didn't think she'd actually take me up on it.”

Sloane smirked. “You two are a little old for doing the roommate thing. Seriously, Aidan, why do you always have to be so nice?”

“It seemed unfair for me to take the only decent rental in Nugget just so I could plant my ass here a few days a week.”

“It was the right thing to do, bro.” Brady backed him up. “And I think Dana is trying to impress you with them tight jeans.”

They weren't any tighter than Sloane's; they just looked a hell of a lot better on Dana. “That's the way they wear 'em these days, Grandpa. If you don't believe me, ask your fiancée.”

“Not Dana. Every time I've ever seen her, she's been in one of those dress-for-success suits with the little scarf deal tied around her neck.”

Sloane glared at Brady. “I didn't realize you were paying so much attention to Dana Calloway.”

He pulled her up from the floor and kissed her. “Nah, only you, sweetness.”

“Maybe you two ought to get a room,” Aidan said and rolled his eyes.

Sloane ignored him. “You think it'll be weird? You don't even know her.”

“It's just temporary until she gets her place back.” Or until one of them found a new living situation. “Why, is there something you're not telling me about her?”

“I don't know anything about Dana other than that she and Carol are the go-to real estate people around here. She doesn't seem to get involved with town stuff . . . keeps to herself, mostly.”

“Griffin used to date her,” Brady said. “I could ask him if you want.”

Before coming to Nugget, Brady had had a brush with a stalker. Aidan knew that made him hypercareful.

“Nah, she seems fine to me.” So she'd dated Griffin, Nugget's resident billionaire. Aidan found that interesting. “And like I said, I'll mostly be living at the firehouse. We'll rarely see each other.”

“And when you need alone time, you can always come to us,” Sloane said. “Oh, and by the way, Sue left a message for you. Something about how you guys keep missing each other and she thought she'd have better luck finding you at our house.” She lifted her brows in question. The silent message:
What's so important?

“We touched base,” he said, hoping to leave it at that.

“And?”

“She's getting married next weekend.” Aidan watched his sister's mouth drop open.

* * *

The house seemed darker than usual. “Mom, you home?”

“In here.”

Dana followed the faint voice into the den. “Why do you have all the lights out?”

Her mother just shrugged and muted the sound on the television. The air smelled stale. Dana opened a few windows.

“The air conditioner is on.” Betty got out of her wing chair, went to the thermostat, and switched off the cooler. Only fifty-eight years old, she'd gone completely gray, her once lithe frame stooped over like an old woman's.

“Dad still at the factory?” It was six; he should've been home by now.

“Fourth of July.”

Dana had forgotten the holiday was just a week away. Calloway Confections was famous for its seasonal red, white, and blue chocolate stars. Cadbury might have the lock on chocolate Easter eggs, Hershey on Christmas Kisses, but only Calloway did the Independence Day stars. This time of year, her father worked overtime to make sure the stores were stocked.

Dana used to love going to the factory with her father, where she would spend hours in the observation room with her face pressed against the glass, watching hundreds of chocolate candies, toffees, and caramels roll from conveyor belts into the old-timey tins that had become Calloway's signature. Her great-grandfather had founded the company, and since her father had taken over the reins, Mars, Hershey, and Nestlé all had come calling. Next to them, Calloway was small potatoes with limited distribution—just the West and Southwest. But the name had become synonymous with quality, and Goliaths like Hershey wanted to add it to their list of luxury candy brands.