Page 5 of Wildfire (Owl Creek #1)

Cole drives me through town and points out everything he can while waving at half the people we pass.

We pull off the main road and start down a tree-lined street.

The sun filters through the leaves, and a gentle breeze makes them dance.

It is like a fairyland here. Houses are getting further apart, and we take a right down a long driveway lined with lush greenery.

Even though I just left a small town, this one is prettier.

There aren't loads of people hardened by poverty, left behind by progress in the cities.

The driveway curves, and then, in front of me, it opens to paradise.

Deciduous trees and flowering shrubs surround a small clapboard house.

Across the driveway is a garage with a room above.

Leading from both buildings is a path that meanders toward the water.

And that's the best part. There's a lake with a dock and a small row boat attached.

"This is your place?"

"Yup. Four acres with waterfront access."

"It's beautiful."

"Well, it's your home now," he flushes a little. “I mean, for the next couple of weeks."

"Cole. Thank you." I turn to face him and grab his hand.

I know this is something people like for you to do when you're trying to make something meaningful.

I missed a lot of that social conditioning that a mom helps you with.

I had to pick most of it up from television and my best friend, Zoe.

"It means a lot to me that you're willing to help me. "

He nods and pulls his hand away, and I notice that my skin feels bare where his hand has just been.

"Let's get you settled in. I've got to head to the firehouse this afternoon."

"Oh my gosh, I'm sorry, of course you do. You have a life."

God, I'm such an idiot. Someone was helping me for once, and I lost my bearings.

"It's fine. It's… never mind. I'll help you get your things upstairs. Want to put your tools in the garage?"

"Is that alright? I don't want to be in the way."

"Renée, you're not in the way. I honestly don't use the garage that much."

He opens it up, and I see a pristine space—everything in its place. I've never seen a man keep his things so tidy.

"Wow. I could eat off the floors here."

"I don't recommend that, but who am I to judge the customs of your people?"

My chest convulses with laughter. "I'm from the coast. They might be strange, but they eat off plates just like your, um, people."

He throws up his hands in resignation. "No judgments here."

We bring in my boxes of tools and then pull my guitar, blanket, and two duffle bags upstairs.

At the top of the stairs, he opens the door to a perfect little light-filled studio.

There is a bed in one corner next to an armoire, a big cozy chair with a bookshelf and lamp, a little island separating the space from the small kitchen, and two doors leading out.

"This one is the bathroom." He opens it up to reveal a simple bathroom. "And this one is the deck."

I follow him out onto a deck facing the water. "You can't see this from the driveway. It's nice out here."

"I'll bring you a table and chair so you can come out here for your tea. Which I don't have, so I'll have to get you some in town. Do you want to write down some essentials?"

"Cole, I can get it. I'll just walk down there when you go to the firehouse. It's only a couple of miles."

"I'm happy to do it."

"You've done enough, really. And I want to repay you somehow. Can I do something around here to earn my keep? Mow the lawn, cook, clean, or something?"

"You don't have to earn your keep."

"I'm uncomfortable staying here unless you give me something to do."

"Well, you saw how clean the garage was."

"Yes."

"House is just as clean."

"What about cooking?"

"I'm pretty good at that, too."

"How come you aren't married, Cole?"

He blinks his eyes at me like I just smacked him on the nose.

"Why…why do you ask?"

"You cook AND clean, and you probably rescue cats out of trees all while looking like this." I wave my hand in front of him. "You should have been snatched up a long time ago."

He stares at me hard for a moment, and I start chewing on my lip.

I may have crossed another line.

"Just haven't found the right woman."

I step back into the studio apartment, trying to distance myself from the hiccup I caused. "That's the trouble with small towns, isn't it?"

"Ready to go see about a job?" He is standing right behind me, and instead of startling me, it perks me up. I like being in his orbit.

"I know it's hot out, but I want to throw on some pants. Can you give me a second?"

"I'll wait downstairs."

I dig through my duffel bag to find my Carharts.

I kick off my boots and wiggle them on, admiring myself in the mirror hanging from the armoire's front.

Even though I'm good at what I do, wearing these jeans doesn't hurt my chances.

Men take a while to warm up to the idea of a female carpenter.

I don't want my potential new boss to get all gropey if I show up in my cutoffs, but I still want to look eye-watering.

I grab a flannel for later and stuff it in my backpack with my wallet. I glance at my phone and notice my brother texted asking where the hell I am. I drop the phone into the pack and head out the door.

Cole is leaning against the truck, talking to someone on his cell.

He sees me coming down the stairs, and a smile spreads across his face.

I don't think anyone has ever looked at me like that.

Like, he's delighted to see me and not because I'm going to rub on his cock after a cheap, greasy meal or because I'm vacuuming under his ass.

It's like he's actually happy to see me—the guy who still hasn't told me what I can do to earn my keep.

When I reach the truck he walks to the passenger side to open it for me. I climb inside, and he trots around to the other side and starts driving back out. "Well, the good news is there is a project you can help with."

"The bad news?"

"I'll leave you in suspense for a few minutes."

"Chief, what are you getting me into?"

"Please call me Cole. Chief is what my guys at the firehouse call me. Or the townspeople."

"I just moved into the apartment above your garage, and you're taking me to a job interview. Aren't I part of the town now?"

He slices me a look, and I swear it feels like he just shot electricity into my body because it's pinging like a pinball machine. I keep looking at him anyway. I'm not one to back down from a challenge, and it seems like we just locked into one.

"You're different."

I turn my body toward him. "Different, how?"

His head turns out the side window, and then he looks back to the driveway where we just turned down. "Just different. We're here."

"That was fast. Where are we?"

"Well, that's the other news."

"You mean the bad news?"

"I didn't say it was bad."

"Cole," I look at him as I yank off the seat belt and open the door. There's someone in an oversized garage with a view of a lake.

"Is this the same lake?"

"Yeah. This house is just down the road."

"And is this where the job is?"

"Yeah."

A larger dock is out on the water with a handful of colorful wooden boats tied up. Next to the dock is a large canopy tent staked down with sawhorses set up underneath, and another boat is being constructed.

"I don't know how to build boats."

"You don't have to."

I spin around to face the woman standing behind me now. She's wearing coveralls and covered in dust. A face mask is propped on her head, and she's reaching out to shake my hand.

“Name’s Callie. You must be Renée.”

I shake her hand before Cole walks over and hugs her.

"Cole tells me you're a carpenter. You any good?"

"Yeah— yes. I am." I wasn't prepared to meet another woman carpenter, and I don't know why, but it is scaring the hell out of me.

Men, I get. I understand what makes them tick.

As long as I do the job and I look good doing it, they don't seem to mind keeping me around once I convince them I can do it.

But a woman? I don't know how to be around women.

After my mom died, it was just me, my dad, and my brothers.

I became the mom, even though I was only seven.

I was the one cooking, cleaning, and making sure Dad paid the bills.

I only had one female friend in school, but she's just as much of a Tomboy as I am.

Maybe worse. When you grow up in a town that doesn't have anywhere to go that's for getting dressed up and looking good, it's easy to be like one of the boys.

"I learned from my dad and then went to carpentry school at the local community college. I've framed a couple of houses and worked on several smaller jobs. I have my own hand tools and am a quick learner."

The words fly out of my mouth, and I can't stop until she touches my shoulder. It’s like she presses the stop button on my verbal explosion.

"Well, if my son recommends you for the job, then I trust you'll do a good job." She shoots Cole a coded look, and I suddenly see the pattern. This family has their own language.

"You're Cole's mother?"

"I am. Let's walk down to the water, and we'll talk about what I need."