Chapter 1
If Abigail Williams didn’t know any better, she’d swear that the universe really didn’t like her. Until tonight, she’d thought herself simply unlucky. Maybe even a little cursed. But attempting to bake one harmless cake should not result in nearly burning her house down.
“It isn’t so bad,” mumbled Clifton Graves, who lingered beside her, watching smoke billow from her roof.
“It isn’t so good, either,” she replied.
A less jaded person would probably be more upset about setting her kitchen on fire. And on the inside, Abby was freaking out. Somewhere. Deep down. Under the cynicism and defeat. The fact was, once a woman had endured losing a husband to a roadside bomb in a foreign land, losing something as piddly as a house didn’t hit all that hard.
Clifton had been ordered to keep Abby company while the rest of the Ardent Springs volunteer fire department extinguished her stove. The stove she’d replaced just last week. This was what she got for upgrading. And for attempting a new hobby. What the heck did she know about baking anyway? Absolutely nothing.
“I’ve seen worse,” he assured her, determined to cheer her up. Bless his heart for the effort. Clifton had been part of the volunteer fire squad for as long as Abby could remember. He’d retired from the post office more than five years ago and should have been home enjoying one of Mildred’s hot meals on this chilly Wednesday night, not freezing his fire pants off in Abby’s driveway. She felt terrible about taking his coat, but he’d refused to let her shiver.
“The kitchen’s secured,” announced a deep voice from out of the darkness.
The lack of daylight combined with the soot marring the man’s face made it difficult to pinpoint his identity. Nonetheless, a flutter of awareness prickled along Abby’s skin as the man grew closer and removed his helmet. Full lips split into a sexy grin that revealed a perfect row of pearly whites, while hazel eyes looked her up and down, sending the flutter migrating through her limbs. The heavy gear looked cumbersome, but his wide shoulders, evident inside the thick jacket, bore the weight with ease.
When the mystery man stepped closer, Abby tilted her head back to see his face and nearly sighed aloud. Even covered in soot he was gorgeous. High cheekbones. Strong jawline. Eyes the color of burnished gold.
“Are you all right, Abby?” he asked.
She continued to stare for several seconds, struck dumb by the smudged beauty before her. And then the lust fog cleared and she realized he’d used her name. How could a man she’d never met before know her name?
“Clifton, did you make sure she got checked out?” Without awaiting a response, he leaned closer, bringing his perfect lips mere inches from hers. “Abby, are you breathing okay?”
Her name sounded good on those lips, and she almost reached out to touch them. Nodding, she struggled to regain her composure. “I’m fine. Really.” Brushing a hand through her windblown hair, she said, “Do I know you?”
“You remember the Donovan kid, don’t ya?” Clifton asked. “Ken and Karen’s boy.” The old man clipped his fellow firefighter on the arm. “Went off to the big city to make his mark, but he’s back where he belongs now.”
The reality check hit Abby like a blow. She remembered him all right. As the boy she used to babysit. And that added pervert to her other credits of the night. The universe definitely hated her.
“Chief said to have you help Ronnie with the hose, Clif. I can handle things here.”
By the looks of him, Justin Donovan could handle Abby six ways from Sunday. And sixty seconds ago, she’d have let him.
“Roger that,” the older man said, shuffling off to his assigned task.
Silence loomed as Abby reined in her raging hormones.
“Are you really okay?” Justin asked, voice heavy with concern.
“Yeah,” she answered, tugging Clifton’s yellow coat tighter across her front. Why couldn’t she have grabbed a jacket on her way out of the house? They’d let her pack up a few things from her room, but everything on the coatrack in the foyer had been tainted by smoke. “Cold, but okay. I didn’t know you were back in Ardent Springs. Your parents must be happy to have you home.”
Whenever Abby would run into Karen Donovan around town, the older woman never failed to brag about her successful son living up in Chicago, but the conversation always included her wish that he would come home to Tennessee more often.
“They are,” he said, as if uninterested in small talk. Gold-green eyes traveled from her head to her toes, igniting traitorous little fires along the way. As if he’d missed the lack of makeup and the dirty coat covering most of her body, he said, “You were always pretty, but now . . .”
Clueless how to respond, Abby ignored the compliment and changed the subject. “I can’t believe I nearly burned down my house. How bad is the kitchen?”
“Oh,” Justin replied, sparing a glance at the house behind him. “I’ve seen worse.” Clifton had said the same, but Abby didn’t believe either one of them. “And you didn’t do anything. It was an electrical short in the stove.”
“But that’s a brand-new stove,” she said. “I must have done something wrong.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong except end up with a bum stove, which you couldn’t have known by looking at it. The fire didn’t get far beyond the appliance and cabinets above it, but you’re definitely going to want to stay someplace else tonight. I have a comfortable couch if you need it.”
Though her hormones screamed yes! Abby declined the friendly offer, certain that the younger man didn’t really want his old babysitter invading his space. “I appreciate that, but I’ve called my brother. I’ll stay with him or at my mom’s house tonight.”
“I don’t mind.” Justin tucked the helmet under his arm. “I’ve been meaning to look you up.”
Perhaps he’d forgotten their previous connection. “Wouldn’t that be . . . weird?” she asked.
Justin tilted his head. “Why would it be weird?”
Slipping her arm through the front of the coat, she waved a hand between them. “There’s an age difference here, remember? I was your babysitter.”
“I’m not a kid anymore, Abby.” She could see that. Boy, could she see that. “Nothing wrong with two adults getting to know each other.”
When he put it that way, the situation seemed slightly less pervy, but kids or adults, five years was five years. As she grasped for a response, a pickup truck whirled into the driveway and a blonde bolted from the passenger side before the wheels had slammed to a halt.
“Oh my God, are you all right? Are you burnt? How are your lungs?” Abby found herself pulled into a bear hug before she could respond. “I’ve been holding my breath since Cooper called me at the hospital. I can’t believe we almost lost you.”
Haleigh Rae Mitchner, an OB/GYN by trade, wasn’t normally the drama type, which made this reaction all the more confusing.
“You didn’t almost lose me,” Abby muttered against her best friend’s shoulder. “But if you don’t loosen your grip, you’re going to suffocate me right now.”
“Let her breathe,” Cooper said, but pulled his sister hard against his chest the moment his fiancée let her go. Despite the fact that they were twins, her brother stood a solid ten inches taller than Abby and was built like a brick wall. “You scared us half to death.”
“Scared me, too,” she mumbled, fighting back tears. The fear and love pouring off her brother made Abby take her close call a little more seriously. What if the smoke detector had failed? What if she’d nodded off on the couch after putting the cake in the oven? What if she hadn’t gotten out in time? Cynicism aside, Abigail Williams preferred to live for many years to come.
“She did the right thing by getting out before calling nine one one,” Justin said, reminding Abby that they weren’t alone.
Releasing the hug but keeping his sister tucked tight against his side, Cooper said, “Thanks for taking care of her.”
“My pleasure,” the younger man replied, his eyes locked on Abby. “If you want help dealing with the insurance company, let me know. I’ll be glad to come over and walk them through the damage. There should be no issue proving you weren’t at fault here.”
Having been a widow for two years, and a military wife before that, Abby was used to handling a variety of situations on her own. But fire damage and insurance companies were beyond her experience. Accepting a little professional assistance couldn’t hurt. No matter what he looked like.
“I’d appreciate that,” she said. “I called my agent a little while ago. I assume they’ll send someone over tomorrow.”
“Do you have your phone handy?” he asked.
“I do, but why?”
“So I can give you my number.”
Abby wiggled out of Cooper’s grip and handed Justin her cell phone. A few seconds later he handed it back.
“Use it anytime,” he said, lifting the helmet back onto his head.
Abby fought a blush. “Thank you. I’ll be in touch about the insurance.”
Justin tapped the brim of his hat before disappearing into the darkness toward her house.
“I wouldn’t normally recommend setting your house on fire to meet a hot guy,” Haleigh said, “but you go, girl.”
“I did not set my house on fire to meet a guy,” she defended, knowing exactly where Haleigh’s mind was going. “This is a serious matter.”
“And that is one seriously hot fireman.”
“I’m standing right here,” Cooper said.
Rising on her tiptoes, Haleigh gave her man a quick kiss on the mouth. “I know, baby. I’m only looking for Abbs. Not for myself.”
“That’s good. Because I’d hate to have to break that dude’s legs.”
“That dude is Justin Donovan,” Abby informed them.
Haleigh’s mouth dropped open. “The kid you used to babysit?”
“Yes. Which makes him way too young for me.”
“I don’t know.” The blonde chewed her thumbnail. “We’re only talking, what, four years?”
“Five,” Abby corrected, determined not to consider what Haleigh was suggesting. “Now can we go? Am I staying with you or with Mom?”
“Mom’s staying at Bruce’s place, so we’re taking you home with us,” Cooper answered.
Abby removed Clifton’s coat and laid it over the back of the fire engine. “I can stay at Mom’s alone.”
“Don’t be silly,” Haleigh said. “We aren’t leaving you alone tonight.”
Too tired to argue, she nodded. “Fine. I’ll stay with you guys.” She lifted her overnight bag off the curb. “They won’t let me open the garage because it shares the wall that caught fire, so you’ll have to bring me home in the morning.”
“No problem,” Cooper said as they crossed to his truck.
As Abby waited for Haleigh to climb up and slide into the middle of the bench seat, she turned back to her house one more time. Justin lingered at the corner of her garage, where a light from the fire truck shone bright. As he peeled the stained yellow coat off his shoulders, providing a full view of the man beneath the uniform, Abby’s mouth went dry.
Why had she turned him down again?
“Abbs, are you coming?” her friend asked, one brow riding high on her forehead.
Busted. Dang it.
“I’m coming,” she replied, climbing into the truck. When Haleigh sent her a knowing look, Abby said, “He’s off-limits.”
“If you say so, girlfriend. But you’d have to be dead not to at least consider that.”
“I can hear you,” Cooper chimed as the truck slid into gear.
Haleigh patted his knee. “Think of your sister, honey. Her girlie bits are withering away while a cure is standing right over there.”
“For heaven’s sake,” Abby muttered as Cooper increased the volume on the radio.
“No more talking,” he ordered. “Especially not about parts of my sister that I don’t need or want to know about.”
Haleigh laughed, but she held her tongue, which Abby appreciated. Even if the statement about her girlie bits was true. Two years was a long damn time for a woman to go without. Her eyes once again strayed to the young fireman as the truck rolled out of the drive.
A long damn time.
Justin watched the taillights of the old Ford pickup fade in the distance, wondering how Abigail Ridgeway—or Williams, now—had remained single for two years. Either she loved her husband too much to move on or the men in this town were dumb and blind. Justin was neither, and though he would never be thankful that a soldier had lost his life, he saw no reason to pass up the opportunity presented.
He’d been too young to appreciate her when she was helping him with homework, letting him stay up an extra half hour, against his parents’ strict orders, to play one more video game. But an encounter during his senior year had been his wakeup call.
After taking a fastball to the temple during a baseball game, which knocked him out cold, Justin woke to find an angel peering down at him. Her soft voice soothed as she gently brushed a lock of hair off his forehead. The words he no longer remembered, but her touch, combined with caring green eyes and a reassuring smile, had hit like a revelation. He never did find out how she’d happened to be in the stands that day, but by the time Justin was back on his feet, Nurse Abby Ridgeway had become the girl of his dreams.
Literally.
Justin’s seventeen-year-old brain had kicked into overdrive, and for weeks his nights were filled with detailed, often erotic dreams about the gorgeous brunette with emerald eyes and more curves than any teenage boy would know what to do with. Desperate to get close to her, he took a delivery job with the local florist and paid the other drivers to let him have all of the hospital deliveries.
The week of graduation, mere days after his eighteenth birthday, he’d worked up the courage to ask her out. Carrying an obnoxious arrangement of red roses, Justin marched into the hospital, ready to win his girl, only to find her gushing over the tiny rock on her left hand.
Another man had stolen his dream. Lingering at the nurses’ station, Justin eavesdropped for details. The guy was older. Almost thirty, which was ancient from his teenage perspective. A soldier. They’d done a quickie wedding over the weekend because the groom would be shipping out any day for the Middle East.
Heartbroken, Justin had left the flowers on the desk and walked away. That day he vowed never to think of Abigail Ridgeway again. A vow he never managed to keep. Ten years and she still stepped into his dreams every now and then. Sometimes not for a year or more, but she was always there. The girl that got away.
“We’re ready to load up,” barked Chief Wolinski. The older man stopped next to Justin on the sidewalk. “I didn’t think you were on call tonight.”
“I wasn’t,” he replied. “But I figured another set of hands couldn’t hurt.” In truth, he’d heard the address on the scanner and knew exactly who owned the house on Sunset Lane. “Good thing I did. I don’t see Sammy anywhere.”
“He’s covering at dispatch. Maxine’s got two sick kids, Daphne is out with strep, and Doug is visiting his grandma up in Louisville.” The chief pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s a good thing we don’t get too many emergencies around here.”
“I’d forgotten how quiet this town is.” Between his years at Northwestern and six years in downtown Chicago, Justin had fully acclimated to city life. He’d still be there now if it weren’t for putting his credibility in the wrong hands. “You want me to come back to the station?”
Chief shook his head. “No need. But don’t forget about the fundraiser this weekend. Saturday morning, ten sharp, Ruby Theater.”
“Got it.” Justin tossed his fire coat over his shoulder. “Have you guys done this auction thing before?”
“Nope. This’ll be a first for all of us.” Stomping off, he yelled for the others to get on the truck and then climbed into the driver’s seat.
Grass crunched beneath Justin’s feet as he crossed the yard to his car. After climbing inside, he pulled a cell phone from the console. One missed call that he would not be returning. Victoria Bettencourt had been leaving messages for the last two weeks, insisting that if Justin would only give her a chance, she could explain everything.
“You burned that bridge when you screwed my friend,” he muttered into the silence, tossing the phone on the passenger seat. “Now you can both go to hell.”