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CHAPTER ONE

I’m still winded when I shove open the door to my office. The air is stifling. I should have cranked the AC before I went for my run. “Next time,” I grumble. My head was somewhere else. I snag a bottle from the dorm fridge next to my desk, then crank the AC unit that’s wedged into one of the windows that overlooks the staff parking lot.

The air-conditioner is ancient. Another thing on the long list of items that need updating at the firehouse. If only we had the budget.

The sad central air system barely wheezes out a breath in this part of the building, so I guess I should just be thankful I even have a window unit .

After a rattle and violent shake, the decrepit thing slowly belches out cool air. By the time it makes any real difference in the temperature, I’ve already downed the water and am thinking about grabbing a second.

Sighing, I rub my tight neck. I feel a little more human after pounding the pavement for an hour. But it’s not going to last. In less than half an hour Avery Ellis is going to be sitting in my office.

My mood goes from foul to terrible when my cell phone rings. The high school’s number flashes on the screen. Damn.

That shower is going to have to wait.

Using my damp fire department T-shirt, I rub the sweat out of my eyes. As I answer, my gut is full of equal parts worry and cold water. “Brock Mitchell here.”

“Chief Mitchell, this is Penny Wolf, the counselor at Ocean County High School.”

“Yes, Penny, is everything okay with Lincoln?”

“Actually, he’s going to be suspended…”

Clenching my phone, I pace across the office with a migraine threatening to jackhammer the back of my brain. “Damn, again?”

“Correct.”

“What happened?”

“Fighting between classes. That young man’s got a very volatile temper.”

Hot frustration replaces the dread in my gut like a flashfire. I’m not sure what to say, so I just offer an inelegant grunt.

“Have you considered counseling?”

I let out a rough noise. I’ve considered everything , but there’s no need to tell her that. I’m sure she’s seen it a thousand times before—A parent that is hanging on hope that things will just magically fix themselves.

Weird for me, considering I’m a pragmatic son of a bitch. But Lincoln has a knack for getting back on my good side when things seem like they’ve hit the gutter. I love the kid to death. I just wish I could figure out how to corral that wild side. After a tense silence, I say, “Yes, but I guess, I hoped that things were getting better.”

There’s a quick rap on my open door. Frank, one of our best firefighters, has a concerned look on his face as he tosses today’s paper on my desk. I try not to look, but the words ‘New Fire Chief Tackles Arson Case’ are like magnets.

Fuck. Bad timing. Like I don’t have enough to think about with the school counselor on the line. But everywhere I look there are reminders that I’ve got the weight of the community on my shoulders too.

Meanwhile, Penny is talking about how she speculates that Linc is suffering from some kind of distress related to his home life. She finishes with, “I think you should get counseling… for both of you.”

You think? I’m currently in some kind of purgatory with little clue how to raise Lincoln in a way that we’ll both survive.

If I had time, I’d have gone long ago to clear up the clusterfuck in my head related to my divorce. “Understood.” Pinching the bridge of my nose, I ask, “Should he be picked up now?”

“Yes.”

“I’m on duty, but I think my friend’s wife, Raven Archer, will help me out. She’s my back up since I’m doing this alone. She’s on the contact list with the school. ”

“Perfect, I’ll let the main office know that your friend is coming.”

I’ve already checked out by the time she terminates the call. Staring across the parking lot, I look longingly at the Pacific Ocean. God, how I miss the days when I was a kid and my biggest worry was how the wind and swell direction would affect surfing.

A soft knock on my door snaps me back to this lifetime—the one where I’m a brand new fire chief in an understaffed and overstressed department. The single dad to a fifteen-year-old who’s struggling. A man whose wife skipped out years ago with a drunk guy because I worked too much. On top of all that… I’m about to be face-to-face with the woman that took a razor-blade to my achilles when I thought I might be ready to date again.

Trying to sound detached, I call out, “Come in.”

The soft female voice behind me rattles me to my core. “Hello, Chief Mitchell.”

When I turn around, I have to force myself not to suck in a sharp breath. Damn.

She’s utterly beautiful. Just like I remember.

I want to curse when my testosterone ripples to life. With my chest clamped tight, I can only manage to roughly say her name. “Ms. Ellis.”

She smoothes a hand quickly down her unbound hair. The long, straight, chestnut cascade covers her shoulders today. The shifting light catches on the strands. The sight mesmerizes me for a few seconds.

The last time I saw her, she had it up in a twist. The kind of style that women do that defies gravity. But what I remember most is that I couldn’t keep my eyes off the delicate skin of her neck.

Only today, unlike the night of our one and only date, her eyes won’t meet mine.

I’m relieved and utterly disappointed.

Avery’s eyes should be registered weapons. When she lays them on you, you’re as good as done.

Voice straining through my tight vocal cords, I say, “Come on in.”

“This is a little awkward,” she murmurs as I move around her to close the door.

I motion to the seat in front of my desk as everything inside of me tightens. “Yeah, well, only if we let it be.”

Question is, can I keep my word?

She’s vibrating with tension. Right down to her voice. “Honestly, I can’t believe how this situation turned out.”

Neither can I. What are the odds that my disaster date would end up working for me?

Stiffly, I reply, “I know, helluva twist.”

When I move back toward my seat, her eyes dart to my glistening chest, then down to her hands again. Color instantly tints her cheeks.

“Just finished a run, I planned to grab a shower, but I had to take a call.”

As much as I like the blush on her delicate cheekbones, I save her by flinging open the bottom desk drawer and grabbing a fresh T-shirt.

“So…” I run out of gas. I even rehearsed the things I’d say to her. Cocky. Witty. Rude. Questioning things. But instead of doing any of that, I just look at her. At the fucking perfect curve of her lips.

After a scorching thousand degree silence, she shifts in her seat. “So, here I am. Day one. On your payroll.”

Forcing my tongue to work, I manage to talk. “Chief Pendergrass sent this note.” I push the folded hospital note paper across the desk to her.

I know what the note says, not because I looked, but because I actually wrote it for him. The chief’s writing hand was useless when I saw him at the hospital.

Avery,

Sorry I'm not there to see you get started. You made my year by taking the job. Brock will watch out for you. The team has your back. Welcome to the LCFD. Now go catch us an arsonist. I’ll be getting updates from my boys.

Respectfully, Retired Chief Pendergrass

As I wrote that note, I imagined penning it with my own words instead.

Avery,

What the fuck happened that night? What did I do wrong that made you take off with barely a word?

I thought maybe you’d circle back. But no. It was radio silence.

Until almost a year later. Until you turn up in a file on my desk labeled ‘new hire.’

But I didn’t write all the things I thought about writing. I took down his dictated message, word for word, folded the paper, dropped it in my pocket. Then sat it on the corner of my desk as I counted down the days until she started work.

As her eyes scan over the note a second time, and I can’t stop from looking at all the perfect details of her face. “Pendergrass was happy. As you can see.”

Finally, her gaze shifts to mine. I get a kick right to my lower gut when she says, “He was happy, but you’re not.”

Gritting my teeth, I study her. “I didn’t say that.”

One side of her mouth pinches as she looks at me. “Your face did.”

I flatten my expression. I don’t want her privy to the emotions she stirs up.

She gets props for being so direct. I like that about her. Avery doesn’t like to mince words. A skill she likely acquired working around a bunch of male firefighters.

“That’s not my intention.” Sounding gruff, I say, “Anyway, Pendergrass recruited you for a reason. You’ve got a keen eye for stopping arsonists. Our department needs your help.”

“I’ve gotten two lucky breaks. I made sure your former boss knew that’s how I felt about it. I don’t have any special skills.”

“I’ve seen the Mensa membership in your file. I don’t think it’s a mistake that you’ve solved those cases.”

The smooth porcelain contour of her cheeks begins to turn pink again.

Leaning forward, I hold her gaze. “You don’t have to be shy about being brilliant. You’re exactly what this department needs. With you and the other new team members that I’m recruiting, we’ll make the Lynn’s Cove Fire Department the best it can be. We’ll be here to take care of this community.”

She winces and glances away, her lashes fluttering to her cheeks. “That’s all great. I just didn’t expect to be working for you.”

“It is what it is.”

Even though I sound convincing in my words, I still can’t believe Avery Ellis is sitting in my office on day one of her new job. Working for me!

Holy Hell, talk about cruel tricks of the universe.

I glance out the window. Fuck me ten ways to Sunday. She really is as pretty as I remember. Even if she’s hiding all those dangerous curves under a plain navy blue T-shirt and bulky cargo pants.

But I know.

Her tits are perfect when they press against me. Her waist is gently curved and fits my palm perfectly. Her skin is soft as a cloud and smells like a dream.

I’m so in trouble here.

When something is in my sights that I want, I don’t stop until I get it. Regardless of the carnage to follow.

There’s an edge to her voice when she asks, “Are you really going to be able to do this, or are you going to fire me over what happened?”

Part of me does want to fire her. But only because now that I’ve seen her again, I know for certain that I want to claim her as mine.

Under my heated observation, she starts to tense, she swallows hard as her eyes shine. “I really need this job. I left my other one, moved out of my apartment. I even have all of my belongings in my truck. You say this is fine, but your expression looks like you just inherited a ticking time bomb.”

“Pretty much,” I agree and quickly follow with, “The job, that is. Not you. Taking over for Pendergrass blindsided me. He was here working one day and done the next. Fucking strokes, I hate them. At least, he’s making headway toward a partial recovery.” I scrub my hand through my hair. “Sorry, but you’ll realize I curse a lot.”

“Forgiven. I’m used to it,” Her voice is quiet as she glances at her twisting hands, then takes a big breath. After straightening her spine, she says, “So, about that night…”

My throat tightens. It’s one of my most unpleasant memories ever, but I’ve accepted it for what it is. Rejection. “We don’t have to talk about this.”

“It would make me feel better.”

I push up from my chair and head back to the dorm fridge for another water. She catches the one I toss to her. “I’m not sure this will make me feel better.”

“But maybe if you understood why I left?—”

When she doesn’t finish, I do. “You left because you weren’t interested in me.”

Color rises higher on her cheeks, she blows out a breath that stirs her hair. “No. That’s not why. You’re wrong.”

The bottle in my hand makes a crunching sound when I squeeze the fuck out of it. For three-hundred-sixty-nine days, I’ve wanted to hear this woman say that. But right now, it’s the last fucking thing I want to hear from her pretty lips.

Her eyes, those luminous, ocean blue beauties, sear into me.

When she starts to speak, I hold up a finger and shake my head. Avery Ellis will make me crazy. I know this with complete certainty. Repairing this thing that happened is a VERY bad idea. The more she wants to stay away from me, the better. “Let’s just leave it at that. ”

She rises quickly and moves behind her chair, putting some space between us. It’s a good thing. There’s enough electric charge in this room to cause an explosion.

Her lips press flat before she goes on. “I guess it is better anyway, since we can’t go out again, given that you're my boss.”

Silence drops between us like a falling ax. The air conditioner gurgles and hums. Sweat trickles out of my hair, down my temples. Not because I ran eight miles. Being in the same room with the first woman I wanted in years—the one who split on a date—is like sitting on burning coals.

Snapping like an alligator, I agree. “Yep. You’re right.”

I will not think about that kiss. I will. Not. Fucking. Think. About. That. Kiss.

One damned kiss.

For a year, I haven’t been able to fall asleep at night without dying to taste her again.

She feels something too. Or her throat wouldn’t be working convulsively. She wouldn’t be clutching the hell out of the back of that chair. Her color wouldn’t look like she’s burning up from the inside out.

Fuck. I’m really in a damned mess now. And I don’t see a way out. It’s her or me. Working with Avery is going to be harder than anything I’ve done in my life.

I finish the second bottle of water and thump the empty down onto my desk. She takes her seat again, looking skittish as hell.

“Have you found an apartment yet?” I almost groan as soon as the words are out of my mouth.

Way to go. Talk about sounding like a creep. “Someone on the team might be able to assist,” I offer quickly, hoping to cover up my slip—my need to know everything about her.

“No, I was hoping I could stay in the bunk room for a while until I get that sorted out. Pendergrass said it was open if I needed it.”

I’m not sure whether to be happy as hell, or ready to tear shit up. The thought of Avery, all warm and sleepy, curled in her bunk, just feet down the hall from my office, is more than any man deserves to endure.

“I’ll get one of the guys to show you around.”

Shoving off my chair, I take a few angry strides to the door and practically twist the knob off as I swing it open. This meeting is done. Before I snap.

Mental note, never, ever be alone with Avery again.

She rises, but for a second, she stands perfectly still.

My left hand clenches. It’s seared with the memory of the warm, bare skin that I found beneath the back of her shirt that night.

I’m a strong man.

But right now I feel as weak as an alcoholic pining away for his next drink. I’ve even got the shakes.

Fuck. This sucks.

The devil sitting on my shoulder needles at me. Come on, big man, I thought you were tough.

Yeah, yeah. I know. It only takes one five-foot-five brunette to prove that is a terrible misconception.

As she moves to pass through the open doorway, my hand snakes out and encircles her slender upper arm. I swear electricity leaps from the place where our skin touches.

I’m on the slipperiest slope ever known to man.

Those man-killer eyes are full of conflicting emotion when she tips her face up to me. Her mouth drops open just a little, and her tongue darts out, tracing her lower lip with moisture .

I close the door. Too hard. It echoes in the room, and surely, through the hallway.

Tugging her to the side, away from prying eyes, I press her to the wall. “Avery, look…”

I’m suddenly locked up like someone turned me to stone. I can’t make myself move away. We’re inches apart. Close enough for me to practically taste her. I’m furious at myself for touching her.

“Brock.”

That word… It’s the softest, breathiest whisper. Avery’s perfection doesn’t stop with her eyes. She’s got that kind of husky bedroom voice that does something violent to a man.

I know better, but I press my nose to her temple, breathing her clean, warm scent in. “I haven’t forgotten a single thing about that kiss.”

Time halts as we stand, surrounded by electric air, our breathing far too intimate. Her hand fists the front of my shirt. “Neither have I.”

When I grip her chin, she leans her body into mine. Molding her soft curves into the planes and angles of mine.

Fuck. This is so wrong.

A thousand disasters are about to set sail.

But I don’t stop.

Even when my tongue is deep in her mouth, and her hands are biting into my biceps, I don’t stop.

Her little moan makes me ravenous. My hunger has been growing for a year. Just like that night on the patio of the Seafarer Grill, we are consumed by something that neither of us can control.

Only this time, the consequences are going to ruin us both.