Never Too Hot (3 page)

“See that?”

She swallowed hard. “You just made a hole in the log.”

A perfect fist-sized hole. How strong did he have to be to hit it like that without even flinching?

“This rotten log is just one of the half-dozen ways this old house could come down around your head.” He turned back to her, raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure my grandparents would be happy to give you a refund on your rent.”

Her heart was still pounding from the shock of seeing him knock a huge chunk out of the log. But she was bound and determined not to let his scare tactics work.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Then we’ll talk tomorrow.”

The screen door slammed shut behind him as he left. Ginger couldn’t stop herself from moving over to the log to get a better look at it. And as she put her hand into the hole he’d left, she hated how Connor had made her look at the cabin that had been her refuge with different eyes.

With doubt.

MOST DAYS Ginger’s five-mile drive to the small downtown strip on the opposite side of Blue Mountain Lake was a leisurely, relaxing one. As winter had turned to spring and spring had shifted into summer, the trees were bursting with bright green new growth that she’d never failed to appreciate.

Until today.

What on earth was she going to do about Connor? About the fact that he clearly wanted an all-access pass to her home? She wasn’t ready for her lakefront idyll to come to an end.

She was finally getting the hang of, well, hanging out. Her paintings were starting to look the way she pictured them in her head.

And Blue Mountain Lake—but especially Poplar Cove—felt more like home than any home she’d ever had before.

It was a whole different world out here in the woods as compared to her previous life in New York City. She loved everything about it. The past eight months at Poplar Cove had been the happiest of her life. The setting, of course, was spectacular, but her joy was inspired by far more than the beautiful natural surroundings.

Freedom was a revelation. For the first time in her life, she answered to no one but herself. Not a husband, not her parents, not the committee members of umpteen charity boards.

Sure, she’d had to get a job waiting tables in town to pay for her canvases and paints and groceries, and it had taken a little while to get used to taking orders and delivering food and drinks, but waitressing was a small price to pay for not having to take her parents’ money while her ex-husband kept their money tied up with lawyers.

As she parked her car behind the diner and got out into the fresh air, she took a few seconds to breathe it in as she reminded herself that there was no reason to freak out.

So the owner’s grandson had showed up out of the blue. So what? The most important thing was that she’d held her ground. And would continue to do so. Unfortunately, she had to admit that he’d done a good job of making his point about the old cabin. Something would have to be done there.

Isabel, her closest friend in town who also happened to own the Blue Mountain Lake Diner, always gave good advice. If anyone would know what to do in a situation like this, it was Isabel.

Ginger was halfway across the parking lot when Josh, Isabel’s fifteen-year-old son, nearly knocked her over as he shot past her to join a pretty blonde on the sidewalk. Ginger called out a hello, but he didn’t hear her as he rounded the corner.

She pushed through the back door into the kitchen to find Isabel chopping a couple of bell peppers into thin slivers. “Who was that cute girl Josh was leaving with? He couldn’t take his eyes off her.”

Isabel sighed, not looking up from her task. “Who knows? I’m the last person he’d introduce her to.”

From the first, Ginger had been struck by how attractive Isabel was. Slim and blond, nearly fifty, she looked easily a decade younger. Today, however, she looked tired. Worn out. Probably because things had been rough lately between Isabel and her teenage son.

“What happened this time?”

Isabel’s words came out in a rush. “He slammed in through the door, even though I’ve told him at least a hundred times that he’s going to pull the door clean off its hinges, and when I asked him to grab the silverware from the dishwasher, he told me he wasn’t going to work today.”

For the past few months Josh had been helping out for a couple of hours in the afternoon to earn some spending money. Apart from a tray of dropped wine glasses, he’d done great. A little lazy sometimes, but he was only fifteen.

“Hmm.” Ginger didn’t want to take sides, even if it did sound like Josh might be out of line. “Did he say why?”

“Evidently his father told him he should be out having fun with his friends because there’s plenty of time for him to work when he grows up.”

Isabel blew out an angry breath. “I’m going to kill Brian. He feels guilty because he only sees his son a handful of weeks every year and doesn’t have a clue how much harder all of his endless generosity makes my day-to-day. You should have heard Josh last night going on and on about all the ‘totally awesome’ things he did with his father in the city the past couple of weeks.”

“Must be hard to compete with that.”

“Impossible. So I told Josh he’d better stay or else and you’ll never guess what the little shit said?”

Ginger had a pretty good idea what a fifteen-year-old boy might come up with. Especially after working with them for the past months at school.

“He said the only way he was going to stay was if I chained him to the stove. And then he blasted out of here with that girl to go see a movie.”

Ginger leaned on the counter. “I still have nightmares about fifteen. Braces. Bad skin. All I needed was the ponytail and glasses to perfect the look. The extra fifteen pounds didn’t help any, either.”

Isabel grunted and Ginger knew she was being no help at all. “What I’m trying to say is that fifteen is a hard age for everyone. And you’ve got to know that Josh is a great kid. All year up at the school when I was doing art with his class, he was always really polite. Amazingly focused. There was this one kid I almost smacked a couple of times when he repeatedly flicked paint on the—” She realized she was heading off on a tangent and switched back to Josh. “Anyway, compared to some of the other kids, Josh is practically an angel.”

All the fight seemed to go out of her friend. “Thanks for that. It helps to hear that he’s not turning into a complete screwup. A lot, actually.”

“You’re welcome. I wish I could help more, but without a kid of my own to practice on I’m pretty much just standing here blowing smoke.”

Knowing this was a touchy subject for her, Isabel said, “Oh honey, I shouldn’t complain. It’s just that days like this make me wish I had a partner in this whole parenting thing. Someone to share the decisions with. To make it all easier. I thought it was hard when Josh was a baby and I was up all night with him, then had to pretend to be a fully functioning human being the next morning. But I’ll tell you what—this moody teenager crap is even harder.”

“And totally normal,” Ginger had to remind her.

Isabel nodded. “You’re right. If I keep letting the little things get to me I’ll be completely out of my mind by the time he goes to college. Remind me to get you five cents out of the tip jar later. Counseling session officially over.”

Ginger hesitated for a moment, even though that was her cue to go to the storage room to hang up her bag and change into her black pants and button-down shirt.

She’d hoped to chat with Isabel about Connor. But it was clear that her friend already had enough on her mind with her son.

No big deal. A lot had changed in the eight months Ginger had been at the lake. She’d learned to speak up. Not to let people steamroll her. She’d been clear with Connor. Poplar Cove might have been his house as a kid, but it was her house now. If any work was going to be done on it while she held the lease, she’d say when, she’d say how much.

She didn’t need Isabel to tell her that.

The traffic was crazy on Main Street and Connor had to park on the far end of the street from the Blue Mountain Lake Inn. Main Street was only one block long, but even though he hadn’t been to the lake in over a decade, it felt like stepping back in time. Some of the storefronts were newer, shinier than he remembered, and there hadn’t been brick-paved sidewalks when he was a kid, but the huge flower baskets were still hanging from the old-fashioned lampposts and the hardware and grocery stores were right where they’d always been.

He caught sight of himself in the window of a yarn store. Jesus, he looked like he was hunkering down for a storm, hunched and tense. The five a.m. cross-country flight was taking its toll. Connor was used to constant movement, not being cramped in a tiny seat for so many hours. A long hard run would help burn off some of the aggravations of the day. But first he’d get a room at the Inn.

Just for tonight. By tomorrow he’d make damn sure he’d worked out a way to get back into his own damn lakefront cabin.

Walking around the front of the Inn, he remembered going to piano and popcorn nights in the oversized great room with a fireplace big enough that a half dozen of them could stand up inside it. Looking at it now, he could hardly believe it was the same place. It now sported weatherproof windows, a new wing off the back, and extensive landscaping.

He pulled open the door and was surprised to see his old friend Stu Murphy standing behind the front desk. They’d both been big fans of superhero comic books and had spent endless hours up in the Poplar Cove lofts reading by flashlight.

But Connor wasn’t in any mood for a walk down memory lane. He should have known better than to come downtown, to the Inn, where he would run in to all these people who knew him as a kid. In a small town where everyone knew everything about everyone else, they’d all want to know about his scars. About what he was doing out here.

“Connor MacKenzie. How long has it been?” Stu said. “Glad to see you back in the Adirondacks.”

Connor worked to cover his black mood as he shook his friend’s hand. “You work here now?”

“Actually, I own it. Sean and I bought the Inn a couple years ago.” Stu did a double take at Connor’s scars and paled. “I heard you were a firefighter out west.”

“Yup. Sam and I are hotshots in Lake Tahoe.”

“Sounds great,” Stu said easily, his relief at not having to go there palpable. Just as Connor had known it would be.

Putting street clothes on the day he’d left the hospital, Connor had made the decision that he wasn’t going to hide his scars from anyone, even if most people probably wished he would. He’d always been more comfortable in T-shirts. He ran hot, even in cold weather, always had.

His burns weren’t some sort of battle scars that he would forever wear with pride, but he wasn’t ashamed of what had happened either. Firefighters often got burned. It was the risk of the job. But also part of the adrenaline rush, the reason they were all out there. Because there was nothing better than bringing a fiery bitch to her knees, nothing more satisfying than knowing he’d saved another forest, another house, another life.

Still, he hadn’t realized just how uncomfortable most people would be with his scars. Even people he’d thought were friends.

Ginger was one of the only people he’d ever come across who hadn’t pretended not to notice. Instead, she’d blurted the first things that came into her head.

Her reaction almost felt like a welcome change.

“So what are you doing out here?” Stu asked.

“Sam’s getting married here end of this month. I was planning to take the next few weeks to fix up Poplar Cove.”

Once he got Ginger to grant him access to his own house, that was.

“I’m getting married too.” Stu backed away from the counter and poked his head into the office behind the front desk. “Rebecca, do you have a minute? There’s an old friend of mine I’d like you to meet.”

A pretty brunette came out and shook his hand. “Hi there,” she said as Stu made the introductions.

“It’s always nice to meet another one of Stu’s friends. I’m sure the two of you got up to a lot of trouble as kids.”

Just then Stu’s cell phone rang. “Shoot. It’s the bride again. I swear this is the last wedding we’re having here. Ever again.”

Stu’s fiancée lowered her voice, grinning as he walked away. “At least I now know exactly the kind of bride I don’t want to be.” She cocked her head to the side. “Were you just coming by to see Stu, or did you need something else?”

“I need a room. Just for tonight.”

Her face fell. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Connor. I wish we had one, but this wedding has simply taken over. Every single room. Even the ones that we don’t usually rent out. These people have practically moved into the supply closets. And all the local B&Bs are booked too for the next few days. But I can make a few calls to some of the nearby towns if you have a few minutes.”

It didn’t take long for her to confirm that the nearest opening was an hour away at a motel on Piseco Lake at the southern tip of the Adirondacks.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “I’ll figure something out.”

Damn it, he should be sleeping at Poplar Cove. He could just imagine Ginger’s face if she found him kicking his feet up with a beer on her porch when she got off work, how her eyes would get big, the way her cheeks would flush with outrage.

What was he thinking? He’d just met her. He didn’t know her at all. And beyond getting her to agree to let him work on the cabin, he didn’t plan to. She was just some random woman who happened to be living in his family’s lake house.

The fact that there was something intriguing about her—he hadn’t expected a woman as soft and artsy-looking as her to have such backbone—was irrelevant.

But Stu’s fiancée clearly couldn’t stand to think of him being homeless for the night. “I’m sure Stu wouldn’t want you going all the way to Piseco. If you wouldn’t mind sleeping on his couch, you could stay with him until a room opens up when this wedding is finally over.”

He knew a good offer when he heard one and after she brought him upstairs and showed him into Stu’s suite of rooms and his couch for the night, he quickly changed into his running gear. Five minutes later he was sprinting away from Main Street.

He should have known this trip would turn into a total clusterfuck. For twenty-eight years, everything he’d wanted had come right to him. The perfect job. Gorgeous women. Life had been easy. Fun. Exhilarating.