Up In Flames (3 page)

Shane called out to her. “Miss, excuse me. Do you know where I can find Ms. Baker?"

"Why, Captain Gaskill, you've already found her.” She turned about, hazel eyes flashing and then pounded down the walkway to the house.

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Jules wished she could just scurry away from the attractive, yet formidable, firefighter behind her, but he seemed insistent on following her.

"Wait,” he called, “
you're
my landlady? I'll be living with you?"

She didn't respond and just headed to the farmhouse door, fuming. She was aware of him behind her, muttering something about wonders never ceasing, but she tried not to listen.

She began to grumble to herself. “When I get a hold of Claire, I'll throttle her.” As she walked up the front steps ahead of him, imagining a dozen ways to punish her nosy sister, she felt her ass start to burn. She looked over her shoulder at the man behind her, only to be confronted by the sight of his smiling, brown eyes trained on her derriere.

"Why, if you don't mind me asking?” he asked.

She spun around and almost bumped into him. He steadied her by clasping her arms. His strength and warmth shot through her like an electric shock. “Oh, she just never mentioned you were so..."

"So what?"

She took in his disarming smile and the shock of sandy hair that kept falling into his eyes. There was something altogether boyish about his crooked grin, torn jeans and mussed hair. At the same time, she couldn't deny the manliness of his solid biceps and towering frame. And in his soft brown eyes there was a depth, a certain maturity telling of hardship and experience. Jules found it hard to look away. “I, uh, guess I expected someone with a buzz cut."

He pushed his stray bangs off his face and laughed. God help her, he had to see what a lame attempt that was. He must know she found him attractive.

"I know. I need a trim.” His eyes narrowed, but didn't lose the twinkle of amusement. “Let me guess. You expected someone ... older, maybe?"

"I suppose so.” And someone gnarly. And homely. And less ruggedly beautiful.

"Yeah, I get that reaction all the time. For some reason, people seem to think thirty-five isn't mature enough to be a captain.” He stretched his arms, and Jules forced herself to maintain contact with his eyes. “I look older in the uniform."

She bit her lip, deciding it wasn't wise to picture him in his uniform. Like many women, a man in uniform was about enough to turn her to mush. But since her experience with Kevin, she hadn't been keen on the firefighter uniform at all. “You're very early, you know. When we last e-mailed, you indicated you'd be here this evening. I don't even have your room ready for you."

He grimaced. “I know. I'm sorry. Unfortunately, I didn't realize my motel had such an early check-out time. I should have called."

"No, no, it's okay. As long as you don't mind me puttering around you with my bleach and rubber gloves."

He got an odd look on his face then. He muttered something about not minding and passed a hand over his knit brow. Before he could hide it, she noticed the massive erection in his jeans.

Sweet Jesus, did the idea of her in yellow rubber gloves make him horny? Maybe his lascivious mind was imagining her in those gloves and nothing else.

"Well,” she interrupted his clearly sex-crazed thoughts, “would you like to see the house?"

"Sure."

She led him into the foyer, conscious of the fact it gave him yet another opportunity to appraise her ass.

"You know, I've got to be honest, Ms. Baker. You're not what I expected either."

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh, no?"

"Nah. I thought Juliet Baker was a little, old lady.” He laughed. “I don't suppose you spend your time knitting doilies?"

"Not lately.” He was charming, this firefighter, a little too charming. They were all the same. Kevin had won her over with his trustworthy appearance, and then he had steamrolled right over her. “Listen, maybe this isn't what you're looking for. I'm sure you want to be closer to the fire hall. Plus, this is an old farm and I'll be doing lots of renovations to convert it into a B&B eventually. It'll get noisy. It'll get dusty. I have so much I need to fix. Surely, you want something newer, more modern."

"You seem to know a lot about what I want.” He cocked an eyebrow at her and let his words sink in. “Actually, I think it's nice around here, and I don't want to be in town. I'll be spending enough time as it is at the fire hall with ten-hour shifts. Besides, I've worked in construction. I'm quite accustomed to noise and dust."

A firefighter who'd worked in construction. Could anyone get more ridiculously macho than that? “But..."

"You know, I'm pretty handy with a hammer and a paintbrush.” He fingered a piece of peeling paint on the wall. “I'd be more than happy to help you with any repairs."

"It's not necessary, Captain Gaskill."

"Don't worry. I'm not angling to get a reduction in my rent.” He was clearly trying to make her smile, but Jules refused to give him the satisfaction. “The terms you outlined in your email were more than fair, that is, assuming I get to see my living quarters any time soon."

"Oh, right!” She scurried down the hallway, feeling badly for keeping him and his otherworldly erection standing there. Where were her manners? There was something about the man which was throwing her right off, and it had everything to do with the twinkle in his eye and the boner in his pants. “There's a large guestroom with an adjoining bathroom and sitting area at the back of the house. It's just through there if you want to have a look."

"Thanks. I'll check it out."

As the captain made his way to the back of the house, Jules fluffed her hair in the hall mirror and then caught herself.

Look at you, preening like a peacock
, she thought.
And over another damn firefighter!

She thought of Mr. Mitchell's warning. Maybe this man was a masher, although for the life of her, she wasn't quite sure what being a masher entailed. She just knew it wasn't good.

"Should I really be letting this man into my house?” she whispered. She wanted nothing in her life reminiscent of Kevin and his kind. Wanted no memories of how he'd treated her. Surely having Kevin's boss under the same roof was a mistake. A huge, head-walloping, heart-stopping mistake.

He was probably just like Kevin.

Still, she conceded, he seemed nice and he did come to her defense outside. And he was new to town, so he wasn't really part of Kevin's blasted brotherhood. Not yet, anyway.

Of course, financially it made sense. Jules knew it would take a while before she could find another boarder, especially one who offered to help with paintjobs and touch ups.

And, she reminded herself, it was a big house. They'd probably never see each other.

She refused to even dignify the thought she was curious about what his erection looked like when unconfined by denim.

He emerged, smiling, from the guestroom. “I like it. Especially the dancing cow wallpaper in the sitting room."

Jules cringed. “Sorry about that. We do have a lot of cows in here. When my mother first decorated this place years ago, country chic was very much in.” She looked around, her expression doubtful. “Actually, it's quite heavy on the country and a little light on the chic. Like I said, it needs updating."

"I can help you with that too. I like to keep busy."

I just bet you do
, she thought, trying not to succumb to a fit of vapors next to his insanely hot body.

He came and stood close to her, offering his hand. “What do you say, Ms. Baker?"

Slowly, she took his hand. It was calloused and rough, with old scars in places, but his touch was gentle. Her eyelids fluttered a little as she nervously looked up at the towering length of him. “You can call me Jules."

His smile widened, showing straight, white teeth. “And you can call me Shane."

He followed her while she gave him the grand tour of the main floor, acutely aware of a nagging, happy sensation in his gut. He didn't know why he should feel that way. Jules Baker was adorable and sexy, but was clearly a flustered nut. Each room they entered had her either sighing, moaning about work to be done, or on the verge of tears.

But he liked her. He liked the sound of her voice, the shape of her ass, and the way her breasts strained against her shirt. He felt himself harden again looking at her from under his lashes.

Oh yeah, he liked her a little too much already. It was bad enough she'd noticed. He'd seen her blanch when her eyes dipped down to his pants. She must think he was a freaking pervert. He couldn't help it. Something about this woman made him feel like a teenage boy watching cheerleader practice from under the bleachers.

"This is the main living room,” she said, turning another corner.

Shane watched as she stopped in her tracks. Saw her shoulders droop. She obviously hadn't been in this room yet. Obviously, because he'd arrived far too early, like a little, brace-toothed girl awaiting prom.

He felt for Jules, although he didn't know why. She just looked so sad. This room looked sad. She just stared at it for a moment, as if she'd found herself in the wrong house. It was quiet and dark in the living room, with all the windows locked and covers on all the furniture. The room itself seemed to be pleading for air.

He saw her bottom lip quiver. And then he felt the same strange, protective emotion he'd felt when shooing Kevin away from her.

But before he could do anything about it, he witnessed her face undergo a startling transformation as she swallowed her feelings. All of a sudden, she was up and running about the living room. Jules was in a delightful fury as she embarked upon throwing open the shutters, cracking the windows, and gathering up the dust covers. Without saying a word, he joined her in her work. Within minutes, the noon-day light was shining in and the place didn't seem so much like a mausoleum anymore. Her mood improved instantly, and she turned a beaming smile upon him.

"Feel better?” he asked.

"Yes,” she said. “It's just ... memories. They're hitting me hard right now. I can't stop visualizing my dad walking down the stairs. And I can almost smell my mother's homemade lasagna. It's as if they might walk in at any moment.” She swallowed hard, as if trying to vanquish her emotions. “I must look like such a spazz."

"Not at all,” he said, grinning, trying to hide his own unexpected concern. “So,” he said, trying to lighten the mood for her, “what kind of renos are you planning?"

She looked around the room. “Whatever will help this place stop looking like the home of an old person. I don't even have to check to know the pipes are old, the fixtures are dated. My dad meant to have an electrician and roofers in ages ago, but never got around to it."

Shane wanted to say something about her folks, but changed his mind. It was none of his business. He still wasn't even sure she wanted him there. Instead, he smiled at her in sympathy. She probably didn't want to talk about them, and she just needed room to breathe.

The relieved look on her face told her he was right on the money.

She looked around the room again and pointed at one of the walls. “Look at that. I never saw that crack there. And look how the paint is peeling.” She fingered a bubbled spot of paint which crumbled under her light touch. “It's like the house is feeling its age all of a sudden. I swear I never saw all these chips and dents when I was a kid. Marty at the hardware store is going to love me by the time I'm through. I can just see my ‘to do’ list."

"It's okay, Jules,” Shane replied, oddly unwilling to give up on cheering her up. “Like I said, I know my way around a toolbox. Let me help you.” He grinned at her, and his grin widened when he saw the matching smile spreading to her face. “I have a feeling if anyone can do this, you can. You'll turn this place into the best B&B ever."

For a moment, she looked suspiciously at him. “You don't even know me. I could be a total screw up. For all you know, I've already driven ten B&B's into the ground."

It was true. He didn't know anything about her. But something in the way she carried herself, in the bright honesty of her eyes, told him Jules Baker was a force of nature. A cyclone of womanly strength. And he very much worried he could get swept away by her. “I'm sure it'll all be just fine."

With a sigh, she dropped onto the couch, and he dropped down next to her. As they sat, an enormous puff of dust billowed around them, making them cough. When the fog of dust settled, he looked down at his gas station brunette, and they both broke into a fit of laughter.

A moment later, he realized he was staring into her eyes. They were the prettiest hazel color, filled with specks of green and gold. The spell broke when those eyes narrowed at him. He got the distinct sense she didn't want to like him but was finding it tricky not to.

And for fuck's sake, if he wasn't feeling the same.

"Welcome home, Captain Gaskill,” she said, offering him a shy smile. “I hope you're not allergic to dust."

The power of her little, feminine smile made his groin swell again. Heaven help him.

Shane had only been unpacking in his room for a few minutes when Jules let out a loud squeal. She was in the kitchen and had been busy wiping down cupboard shelves, but something had obviously alarmed her. He ran out of his room, expecting to see her up on a chair surrounded by mice, ready to come to her aid. But that wasn't what he saw. She was smiling, jumping up and down in front of the large kitchen window, the one with the great view of the front yard.

He wanted to smile along with her, but when he saw her bouncing breasts, he seemed to lose all power over his muscles.

"What's up?” he asked, trying to sound casual, but knowing he just sounded hoarse. His mouth had completely dried up at the sight of her boobs.

She turned to him, apparently oblivious to his lack of saliva. “I'm sorry. You just got here and my sister Claire's family has arrived. I haven't seen them for a while.” She eyed him nervously. “If you want to hide, I understand, but I'm sure they'd like to meet you."