Playing With Fire: inspirational romantic suspense (Montana Fire Book 2) (8 page)

“The cabins are nearly finished, but they still have a lot of work to do.” Raina went into the kitchen, and Liza picked up the thick envelope from Vitae, the artist commune located in Sedona.

Please.

She slid her thumb under the lip as Raina came out holding a plate, eating her sandwich. “Is that the teaching job?”

“I hope so.” Liza took out the folded letter, set the envelope down, and began to read.

We’d be pleased to offer you—

“Yes.” She glanced at Raina. “They want me to teach the winter semester. Apparently their only pottery instructor is having a baby. So, if she doesn’t come back, I have an option to continue if I want.”

“That’s great, Auntie. You should totally do it.” Raina finished off her sandwich, set down the plate, started crunching on the chips.

Liza read the letter over, the terms, the housing package.

And between the lines, the fact that she would be leaving Deep Haven.

Not forever, of course, but...

She folded the letter back up, put it in the envelope. Tucked it into a chamber inside the desk. Went to retrieve her coffee in the kitchen.

“You don’t look as excited as I thought you’d be,” Raina said, following her. “Isn’t that what you always wanted? To teach, like your mom did?”

Maybe once upon a time. Liza picked up her coffee. “Yeah. Sure. Of course.”

“Huh.”

Raina slid onto a kitchen chair. “Does this have something to do with Conner? And his random phone calls? You know, you could join the rest of the twenty-first century and get a cell phone. I know they don’t work well in Deep Haven, but trust me, the rest of the world is connected. He could call you in Arizona.”

Liza offered a laugh, something easy, as if Raina hadn’t somehow wheedled through her layers to find that tender spot. “No. This has nothing to do with Conner. Of course not.”

Um, yes, absolutely.

Because it had occurred to her that if she left, Conner wouldn’t find her...

And now she was breaking every single promise she’d made to herself—to not wrap her future in some man’s affection for her.

“Okay. Because if he likes you, he’ll find you. At least that’s what that book
He’s Just Not That Into You
says.”

“Raina, you need to stop reading books on dating—”

“I’m not. I’m trying to live in reality, finally.” She got up from the table. “And you should, too.” She put her plate in the sink. “Conner likes you, otherwise he wouldn’t still be calling you. And I’ll bet he likes you enough to track you down if you go to Arizona.”

Liza leaned over, sprayed water on the plate. “No, honey. Conner and I are just friends.”

He’d made that ever so clear over the past year, his phone calls sometimes fun, sometimes dark with stories on the fire line, and yes, he often sounded wrung out and raw, in need of a friend. And that’s what she’d been. A friend.

Nothing more.

If she started thinking they’d perhaps, someday, be more, then she was simply setting herself up to get burned.

Besides, he hadn’t called in weeks.

“It’s not easy for him, being one of the few Christians on the Jude County team—sometimes he just needs someone to help him see truth.”

“I think
you
need to see the truth,” Raina said, grinning.

“No—that would be wishful thinking—”

“So you
do
like him. I knew it!”

Oh. Liza made a face. “Fine. Yes. He’s brave and loyal and a Christian—”

“He must be hot—I’ll bet he’s hot, with muscles—”

“Raina—”

But Raina had her hands folded across her chest, grinning.

“Fine. Yes. He’s handsome. Golden blond hair and blue eyes—actually, amazing blue eyes. And yes, muscles, not that I noticed—”

“Oh, please. You’re not made of stone.”

Liza offered a slow smile. “Okay. He filled out his T-shirts pretty well. But he works outside—jumps from airplanes into fire and digs out fire lines—so, yeah, he’s pretty fit.”

Raina’s mouth tweaked up at the tame assessment. But what was Liza going to say? That last time Conner had held her in his arms—actually, she’d started it, but she couldn’t help it when he’d simply radiated grief—she sank into him. Smelled the faintest hint of smoke and fire on his skin, the scent of danger and strength, and it all combined to make her want to hold on. Forever.

She’d foolishly hoped he’d kiss her good-bye when his team came to pick him up. They’d eaten dinner at the VFW. Listened to the Blue Monkeys play a set. Talked about the fire and how the lodge at the Evergreen Resort had survived.

All through dinner she’d wondered how
she’d
survive letting him walk out of her life. A foolish thought, because he’d barely been in it.

But while he had, he’d made her feel like she mattered. The fact that he chased
her
down… It made her feel as if she wasn’t the one clinging. That she wasn’t forcing him to like her...

“Aunt Liza, you’re blushing. Which means you’re not telling me everything, are you? Did he kiss you?”

Liza pressed a hand to her cheek. “He didn’t
really
kiss me.”

Sadly. Even though he’d had the chance. They’d stood outside the restaurant in the shadows as the Jude County buggy pulled up, his buddies inside, and right then she hoped he’d turn to her, search her face, and even if just quickly, kiss her.

But, no. Because he hadn’t wanted to give her the wrong idea.

A true gentleman.

“I told you, we’re just friends.”

And if that’s all they’d ever be, then that was enough.

Really.

Raina hustled off to her room, and a few minutes later Liza heard the shower. Tried to scrape her thoughts away from the fact that Conner had used that shower nearly a year ago.

Tried to forget the way he came out, towel-drying his wet hair, looking rugged and hungry.

Oh, shoot. She shouldn’t let him in to roam around her thoughts. God was enough, hello and amen. She didn’t need a man to be complete or happy. And especially not one who couldn’t make her any promises to stick around.

Liza finished lunch, stopped by Raina’s room to tell her she’d see her at the dragon boat festival parade, watched her leave, and then paid bills at her desk.

Took out the envelope and read the letter again.

She shouldn’t put her life on hold for a man.

Liza wrote a response to Vitae. Sealed it. Then she changed for the parade on the harbor—out of her paint-splattered capris into a clean T-shirt, jeans, flip-flops, and a coat.

She picked up the envelope and was just leaving the house when the phone rang. Liza stood on the porch, listening, holding the doorknob.

Aw, shoot.

She answered just before it went over to her machine.

“Liza?”

Her traitorous heart expanded three sizes at the sound of his voice. Roughened, as if he’d eaten a lot of smoke. Tired.

“Conner. How are you?” She always kept her voice even, a little surprised, but not so much that she put the wrong emotions in it.

“I just got back from three weeks in Arizona. Thought I’d call you...”

She sat down on the sofa, smoothing the envelope on her lap. “You sound tired.”

A pause, and she could imagine him as she’d seen him on the beach, sooty, wrung out, maybe a little shaken.

“Please tell me you didn’t get hurt or lose anyone.” Oh, maybe too much worry, but—

“No. I’m fine. But it was pretty rough. I just...” His voice wavered, and she wanted to reach out, through the phone. “Nothing. How are you?”

Nothing?
She wanted to chase that, but instead answered his question, filling him in on Raina and the update on Evergreen Resort and today’s dragon boat race, and she hadn’t even realized how much she’d been talking until the silence echoed on the other end.

“Conner?”

She’d bored him into slumber.

A pause. “Conner?”

“I’m here. I was just thinking...how nice it would be to be in Deep Haven again. That view of the sunrise over the harbor. And we could grab a burger at the VFW...”

Was he actually missing—no. But, “Our annual Fisherman’s Picnic is coming up in a couple of weeks.”

She didn’t exactly know why she’d said that and hated even the hint of hope in her voice.

“Will you be giving demonstrations?”

She wanted to laugh, but his question reached in, filled her heart with painful hope. “Of course.”

She wanted to wince at her breezy, too-high tone.

“That sounds amazing.”

Another beat, and maybe he was waiting for her to add a real invitation to their banter.

But that would mean—what? That she wanted to be more than friends? A sure way to send Conner running the opposite direction, if she knew men. And, sad, pitiful her, she’d rather have his friendship than nothing at all.

Still—what if—

“I’d hop a plane in a second if I could.”

He would? “Then you should come—”

“But I need to go see my grandfather. He’s still fighting cancer and just finished another round of chemo...”

Right. Exactly. “Oh, Conner, I’m sorry. Yes, of course. He needs you.”

“It’s a nice idea, though. Maybe after the season is over.” He said it casually, however, his tone saying
never.

And that was the confirmation she needed. “I’ll be praying for your grandfather.”
And for you.
Which she did every day.

Probably, that was part of the problem. She prayed for him, thought about him, yes, even dreamed of him every day.

And he conjured her up only when he was tired, bored, or even just needing a friendly ear.

Exactly how
just friends
behaved. Hello and pay attention.

“Thanks. I appreciate the prayers. It’s nice to hear your voice.”

“You too. That’s what friends are for, right? Be safe.”

“Take care, Liza.” He clicked off.

She sat there, a shadow over her heart she didn’t want to acknowledge. But yes, maybe she needed Vitae just as much as they needed her.

She got up, locked the door behind her, and dropped the letter in the mailbox.

If Liza was looking to hide from him, she’d picked the most picturesque place on the planet.

And maybe the hottest.

Around Conner, the striated red-rock formations of Sedona rose above the lush green pine and juniper of the valley bordering the city, and especially the Vitae artists’ enclave, located just a dozen miles north of Sedona. With adobe buildings clustered around a main house, expansive patios, and decks tucked into the forest, the place looked like a place someone might find healing.

Not that Liza needed healing—after all, she’d come to teach. But maybe
he
did.

Conner ran his hand over his freshly cut hair—it felt strange to have it off his neck—and stepped out of the convertible Camaro he’d rented. A bit of an extravagance, but the entire trip seemed impulsive and over the top. Driven by some errant, rabid emotion he couldn’t seem to tame.

Thankfully, Gilly Priest, a pilot for the Jude County smokejumpers, was a romantic and agreed to fly him down to Arizona.

For the day.

And no, Liza probably wasn’t hiding from him. Not when he’d been the one doing a disappearing act from her life over the past year.

A year where he watched his grandfather dwindle from a robust cowboy to skin and bones, his eyes wracked with pain.

Conner should have called her, but he’d been simply overwhelmed with the daily tasks of medicine and feeding. And then his grandfather’s passing simply blew a hole through him.

Thankfully, Grandpa possessed a faith that Conner desperately fought to hang on to.