Page 7 of Wildfire (Owl Creek #1)

I knew things had gone well with my mom and Renée when I got a few texts from mom this afternoon. What I wasn't expecting was how happy it made me that they got along.

Everything about this woman screams off-limits. She's in a vulnerable place, and now she's my mother's employee and my house guest. She's also leaving for Los Angeles when she gets her car back.

But I feel calm when she's standing in my kitchen humming a tune and cutting vegetables for the grill. I can let go of the thoughts that have been troubling me all day. Thoughts like hoping the fire this morning was just a coincidence and not the start of a pattern.

Even so, I have to visit Chief Johnson's widow tomorrow. She heard about the fire and wanted me to check her smoke alarms. I know she doesn't have anyone nearby looking in on her, and I don't want her to think she isn't safe.

I don't want anyone to think the fires over the last several weeks make them unsafe.

Renée hands me the bowl of sliced and seasoned veggies, and we head outside to put everything on the grill. Dusk is settling in, bringing out all the chirping insects. That's a song I'll never stop loving.

She's rubbing her arms as a breeze whips through the backyard, so I grab her a blanket and wrap it around her shoulders as she sits near the firepit.

And how she looks at me when I bring her that blanket feels like a stab in the heart.

It's like I'm looking into the eyes of someone who's never known kindness until now.

"Want a beer or something while we wait?"

"Sure. Or whiskey if you have it."

I should have known. She's all smooth and fiery, like the way whiskey feels going down.

"Coming right up. Rocks?"

She grins at me, and I can't help but notice how plump and juicy her lips are.

This will be a long couple of weeks if this is how we're starting.

"Now that I have this blanket warming me up, rocks sound good."

I push through the French doors that lead into the house and set us up with a couple of drinks. We both have to work tomorrow, so I don't want to pour too strongly, but I'd sure like to see what she's like when she's had just enough to loosen the grip of whatever has a hold of her.

I bring the glasses back out and hand her one. Her finger brushes mine, sending a pulse up my arm that tingles like an electric current.

"How long have you lived here, Cole?"

"You mean in Owl Creek or this house?"

"Both, I guess."

"We moved here when I was six years old. And we lived above the shop that Caleb owns now until I was a teenager. Then my parents bought the house on the lake you visited today. I built this house with my mom over the years, and then they sold me the land underneath it a couple of years back."

"Where did you guys move here from?"

I feel my fist squeeze the glass in my hand and take a breath to ease the tension as I slowly loosen my grip. "California."

She perked up when I said that.

"What was it like there? Was it warm every day, and did you even own a coat before you moved here? How often did it rain?"

"I don't remember." That was a lie, but I wasn't about to start talking about our life in California—not today, not ever.

She chewed on her lip and sunk back in her chair.

Feeling her pull away from me felt like I lost a little oxygen, and the weight of her retreat pressed on my chest. I don't know what the hell is going on, but her movements and thoughts are already a part of my being.

I'm feeling entangled in her, and we just met.

"Food's probably ready. You want to eat out here?"

"Yeah." She grabs the napkins and cutlery I brought out earlier and sets the picnic table for two. Then she dashes inside, grabs a candle I forgot I had, and puts it in the middle. I don't know where this is heading, but my heart is torpedoing my head.

"There. That should keep the mosquitoes away."

"Good thinking."

And here I thought it was a romantic gesture when all she was doing was preserving our sanity living near a lake.

I plate up the food and walk it over to where she's sitting.

The last minutes of the sun shining over the treetops light up her bright eyes, which are gold, orange, and brown.

I don't even know how it is that this morning I woke up alone, and this evening, I have the most beautiful woman sitting across the table from me.

"What makes you want to go to Los Angeles to be a singer?"

"That's where everything happens. You turn on a T.V. or look on social media, and it's Los Angeles. Or New York, I guess, but it's too cold over there for me."

"Have you always wanted to be a singer?"

"Yeah. My mom used to sing to me a lot. She had a beautiful voice. She was in a band before she had kids. That's how my parents met."

"Really?"

"Yeah, my mom was fronting a band, and they were on tour. My dad went to the show, and the rest is history."

"Did she quit the band when they met?"

"Not at first. But eventually, it was too hard—the distance. And then they moved to the peninsula when my dad got a job."

"And you don't want to stay?"

She shifts in her seat and starts pushing food around her plate.

"I'm guessing that's a no."

Her lips are set in a thin line, and she shakes her head. Her eyes are fixed on the plate.

"Hey, we don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

"You haven't told me yet what I can do to repay you for giving me a place to stay. Your house is clean as a whistle, so is there something else?"

"Don't worry about it."

"Cole, I can't just stay here. Nobody does that. Nobody lets you stay with them for a few weeks without some kind of payment."

"Maybe I'm not nobody. Maybe I'm different."

Her eyes flicker toward mine, and when she looks at me, it's like the sun is rising on a new day.

I'm so screwed.

"I don't think people are that different. I think the basic current that runs through us all is that we want things from each other. Nobody does something for nothing."

"Okay, maybe it isn't for nothing. Maybe having you here is a good reminder of…"

"Of what?"

"You know what? I almost forgot I needed to make a phone call."

I shoot out of the seat with my glass and plate in hand and leave her outside while I place it in the sink and grab my phone. I don't need to call anyone, but I need to get away from her. From how my mind spins when I'm around her.

"I'll do the dishes while you make your call." She comes inside with everything I left out there, and I give her a quick smile, step out the door, and walk down to the dock.

I decide to call Seth to talk about work. I don't want to feel like a liar, but I also don't know what to do with what's being stirred up in my body.