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“No. He was killed in a fire.”

I placed my hand over his. A world of hurt weighed down in his words. His somber tone made it clear that even if it had been a long time ago, he was still deeply affected.

“I’m so sorry. Can I ask what happened?”

He blew out a sigh. “Dante was in the wrong place at the wrong time. He was sleeping at his girlfriend’s apartment and the building went up. She got out, but he didn’t make it. He was trying to help one of her neighbors. It was arson, but the firebug was never caught.”

“Jimmy, I’m sorry.”

I didn’t know what else to say. What he didn’t say was that they were close, but it was obvious from the way he talked about Dante how much he cared.

“There was an investigation, but it went nowhere.” He shrugged. “I was able to use a favor to review the case file as a courtesy after I joined the department here. It was thin. No surveillance video in the area. No witnesses. Limited evidence of accelerants. Nothing that could be traced to a suspect. There wasn’t much more the investigator could do. My aunt and uncle can’t accept that. This is how I make a difference; become an investigator and hopefully prevent some other family’s tragedy by catching arsonists before they escalate and kill.”

“What about your parents and sister? Are they supportive?”

“My parents were disappointed I didn’t join the Army like them, but they didn’t disown me for going into fire protection instead.” He smiled wryly. “If I’d joined the Navy, it might have been an issue. The rivalry is fierce, and not just in football. My sister has issues with my career. She’s worried she’s going to lose her brother along with her cousin. In a lot of ways, we’re all each other has left.”

We were silent for a few minutes. I didn’t know what to say. Growing up, accidents happened, but I hadn’t lost anyone close to me. Colville was small, and there wasn’t much crime, but fire danger in the national forest was a constant threat in the drier months. Fighting wildfires was dangerous; it hit the news every year. I was borderline ignorant about the dangers of urban firefighting. I watched Jimmy, still lost in thought, his face solemn. That was a conversation for another day. Google was free, and temporary wives had no room to complain about a career that was paying for their medical insurance.

Jimmy cleared his throat. “Enough deep conversation for one night. Can I interest you in another glass of wine to celebrate putting our offer in?” he asked as he tilted the wine bottle toward me.

I looked down at my glass; I’d already had a couple. “One more, and I don’t think I can drive home.”

“Do you want to get a lift, or find out if I snore?”

“What, you’re not going to offer the couch?”

“Nope. Of course, you’re welcome to it if you want, but it seems silly when we’re planning to move in together anyway.”

“No funny business?” I asked jokingly.

I wanted all his business. But I figured Jimmy would be a stickler for following medical advice. It was easier to joke about it than tell him I wanted to slide down him like a fire pole.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about; I’m hilarious. But I’m fully prepared to follow doctor’s orders.”

I met his gaze before taking another sip of my drink. “I guess I’m putting you to the test.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I wish you meant that differently, but I’ve probably got some sweats for you to borrow.”

We relaxed in front of the TV for a while, my feet in Jimmy’s lap. I was feeling relaxed and the tiniest bit fuzzy. After the stress of the last few weeks, spending a quiet night with Jimmy was what the doctor ordered. If only my stupid heart would cooperate with something more. His big hand on my foot shouldn’t have been turning me on, but the slow stroke of his fingers along my instep were mesmerizing. I shifted, pressing my legs together to ease the ache. I focused on my breath and rubbed my chest, and Jimmy followed the gesture.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

I smiled. “Yeah, no need to panic, Nurse Jimmy. I’m good. Just getting tired. Do you mind if I turn in? You don’t have to go to bed if you don’t want to.”

Alone time might do me good. Take the edge off.

He yawned and stretched. “No, I’m ready too. Come on, I’ll grab those sweats for you.”

I bit my lip as I watched his lean hips sway with every step down the hall toward his room. I flushed, feeling the heat trickle through my body. Maybe I didn’t need the extra warmth of heavy knit tonight.

Jimmy pulled a pair of gray sweatpants and a faded Oregon State sweatshirt from one of his drawers and gave them to me. “They won’t fit, but they’ll be warm. I think I’ve got an extra toothbrush in the cabinet above the sink.”

I pressed my lips together to avoid asking for a fresh towel instead. A cold shower would do me better than feeling the soft rasp of fabric that had also touched his body against my skin. I shut the door to the bathroom and shook myself.Down, girl.

I slipped out of my clothes and folded them neatly before tugging on his sweats. I resisted the pull to snoop through his cabinets—the new toothbrush was front and center. I had to laugh at my reflection when I closed the cabinet. My hair was sticking up in an arc, thanks to the static from pulling on his sweatshirt. It swam on me. Makeup mostly gone, I looked like someone’s five-year-old playing dress-up. The only one having sexy thoughts tonight was me. One glance at my outfit and Jimmy was going to pinch my cheek and ask how I liked first grade. I made a face at myself in the mirror, then got with the business of my nightly routine.

I opened the door to an erotic vision laid out before me. Jimmy was stretched out on top of the covers, his hands resting behind his head, biceps bulging. In nothing but a pair of boxers. I laughed when at what was on them—flames. The phrase, ‘too hot to handle’ was emblazoned across the front. “Let me guess. You either have a sense of humor about your underwear or your sister does.”