Flirting With Fire (Hometown Heroes) (8 page)

“Yeah, so far so
good. Unfortunately, I’m starting to realize my boring clothes don’t exactly
fit in there.” Or my hair. Or fingernails. At least my toes made a step in the
right direction this week. “But don’t tell Sarah—she’s already convinced I’m
five minutes away from moving to Fort Wayne.”

“You never know.
Maybe a move away from Autumn Lake is exactly what you need.”

“I’d be lying if
I said the thought hadn’t crossed my mind. But everything’s so expensive in Fort Wayne compared to here.”

She laughed. “You
should try Indianapolis! Everything costs more down here.”

“Still, it’s
more than what I’m used to. And I really don’t know anybody there outside of
work.”

“I said the same
thing, you know. When your father got transferred down here. I didn’t think I’d
survive, leaving all my friends behind. But you know what? I did. And I still
keep in touch with all my friends back in Autumn Lake.” She paused. “That’s
what’s bothering you, isn’t it?”

I let out a long
sigh. “Yes. I mean, I love Fort Wayne, but I feel so guilty even considering
the thought of moving on and leaving Sarah behind. We’ve been best friends
forever!”

“And you’ll stay
best friends, so long as you keep your relationship a priority. Don’t let guilt
guide your every decision, dear. Life’s much too short to do that.”

I stared out down
at my feet as her words sank in. A glimmer of light sparkled off the shiny pink
gloss on my toes. That simple change had made me happy, happier than I imagined
it would. But that was small potatoes compared to packing up my worldly
belongings and heading out of town. And as determined as I was a week ago to
get out of Dodge, the idea of actually leaving left me unsettled. Could I
possibly be happy if it meant leaving my best friend behind?

* * * *

“Oh my God, you
let someone touch your toes.”

I hadn’t even made
it inside before Sarah’s eagle eyes honed in on my open-toed footwear. Which
was perfect. If I could keep the distractions coming, maybe she’d forget to ask
about who had me blushing on Wednesday.

“Yep.” I reached
out and swept Mason up and over my shoulder before his barreling body broke
both my kneecaps. “You like?”

Sarah’s son
squealed in delight. She just stared at my toes.

“Sure. Actually,
they look…great.”

I pecked a kiss
on her cheek, careful to keep Mason’s legs, now kicking and flailing, away from
her face. “Thanks. They keep catching my eye as I walk barefoot around the apartment.
Kinda fun to have some color down there.”

Sarah shook her
head and closed the front door. “Well, I’ve been trying to tell you that for
years. Glad you finally caught up with the rest of us modern girls.”

“Aunt Lizzie!
Your toes are the same color as mine!” cried Megan, who shifted from her
cross-legged position on the living room floor to wave a foot in the air. “Did
Mama paint yours, too?”

I spun Mason
around enough times to sufficiently disorient him, then set the little bugger
down and watched him stagger away. “No, sweetie, your mama didn’t paint them.
My friend Kim did.”

Little Molly toddled
over for a closer look. “Oooh. Priddy.”

I stooped down
and wrapped her in a hug. “Aw, thanks, Mol.”

Two or not, she
still had that faint smell of baby. I held her close, savoring it. But, like
most her age, Molly didn’t stay in one place for long. She began to squirm, and
I released her back into the wild.

Sarah had gone
back into the kitchen while I was getting my baby fix. I headed that way to
join her. She looked up as I walked in.

“Thirsty?” she
asked.

“Sure. What’cha got?”

“Ron picked up
some Arbor Mist on the way home last night. The one you really like.”

My right eyebrow
arched. “You trying to sweeten me up? What, need a sitter for something?”

“No. But if
you’re offering…” She laughed and retrieved the bottle from her fridge.

“I’m always
offering,” I said. “You know that.”

Sarah poured two
glasses of wine, then handed one to me. Huh, maybe she wasn’t preggers after
all.

“Does that mean
you’re free next Saturday?”

I took a sip and
savored the overly-sweet wine as it swirled across my tongue. “Of course.
Single, remember?”

A male voice
broke into our conversation. “Single? Who’s single?”

Sarah tipped the
second glass of wine in my direction, then handed it to Mitch. “Our little
Lizzie, remember?”

“Oh, right.” He
clanged his glass softly against mine. “To finding mates before we hit forty.”

“To finding mates
before forty,” I echoed, then took another drink. “Though, your timeline is a
bit shorter than mine, old man.”

“Old man?”

He set his glass
down.

“Run, Liz,”
Sarah whispered, and took the drink from my hand.

My gaze flashed
from hers to his. I had all of two seconds before he pounced. Luckily, two
seconds was just enough time for me to run from the kitchen, squealing louder
than any of my honorary nieces or nephew.

“Get back here, you
young ‘un!” Mitch roared.

“No! Never!”

I raced down the
hall and turned to swing back through their formal dining room. Mitch missed
the turn and continued on toward the kids’ bedrooms.

“Mom!” rang out
a tattletale voice. “Uncle Mitch is running in the house!”

I knew from his
growl that he’d changed directions, and looked frantically for a place to hide.
Growing up with Mitch around meant he knew just about every tickle spot on my
body. And being barefoot near a tickle monster was about as bad as wearing a necklace
made of salmon near a hungry grizzly bear. So I dove back out of the dining
room…

…and ran smack
dab into Sarah’s brick wall of a husband.

“Whoa, easy there!”
he said, catching me as I bounced off his massive chest.

“Sorry, Ron. I
was just trying to—”

“—escape from me,”
Mitch said, coming into my peripheral vision. “Thanks for the assist.”

“Nooo!” I
struggled against Ron’s iron grip, intent on escape. But instead of handing me
over, he shifted his body between Mitch and me.

“How about you
two settle this later? Like, not in my house.” The smile on his face was
congenial enough, but his tone hinted fatigue.

“Fine,” Mitch
said, eyes narrowed, and pointed from his eyes to mine. “This isn’t over, you.”

He walked back
toward the kitchen, and I collapsed into Ron. “Phew. Thanks, bud.”

“Any time.
Though, you know it’ll cost you.”

“Yeah. I already
agreed to watch the rug rats next Sat. Call it even?”

“Even.”

We exchanged a
fist bump, and I followed Ron back out into the hallway. “So, uh, Ron. Is
Sarah, you know…?”

He stopped and
turned to me with a blank look on his face. “Is she what?”

“You
know
.
Is she…are you two…?”

Ron’s blank
looked seemed to grow blanker. Either he had no clue that their offspring count
was about to increase, or Sarah had threatened him within an inch of his life
not to tell. Either way, I wasn’t going to get an answer out of her other half.

“Oh, never mind.
I’ll just ask her.”

He just
shrugged.

Men.

* * * *

I stood in the
kitchen with Sarah an hour later, having traded the noise of three happy kids
for the solace of the kitchen…and a small mountain of dirty dishes. So far,
we’d managed to avoid talking about work. It wouldn’t last. I could practically
hear the time bomb ticking down to detonation.

Three… two… one…

“So, you haven’t
said much about your new job all evening.”

Kaboom.
I
stifled a grin.

“Not much to
tell, really,” I said, not daring to meet her eyes. She’d see through the lie
faster than I could say Torrunn MacKay. “A job’s a job.”

“Baloney.”

I shrugged, and
studied the nearly-dry saucepan in my hands. For the record? Her towels didn’t
dry worth a darn.

“Really, I told
you all the important stuff on the phone Monday night. Since then it’s been
more of the same. I still love Dawn’s massage room, my coworkers are great,
yadda yadda yadda.”

Well, most of my
coworkers were great. I felt my blood pressure spike as Bunni’s image came to
mind. Seriously, what was with that woman? I still hadn’t been able to engage
her in a normal conversation. Each time I tried, she’d cut me off and ask me to
hand her a bottle of polish or get her a towel. But I pushed her from my mind,
intent not to let the grouch ruin my evening.

“Oh! And
Xavier’s having me meet with their web designer next week. They want to take my
picture and add me to the staff list on their site. I thought that was kinda
cool.”

“Congratulations.
You’ll be famous for, like, the next six months.”

“You’re jealous,
I know.” I winked.

“Of course.” She
turned and leaned against the sink, drying her hands with another towel. “But I
hate that you’re so far away. And wasn’t there some alley fire not too far from
your office just this week? Fort Wayne is so dangerous!”

“It’s really not
so bad on my side of town, Sarah. Heck, if I were any further west, I wouldn’t
even be in town. And those fires have all been pretty minor. Probably some dumb
kids or something.”

“Still…”

“Trust me, I’ll
be fine.”

Her eyes
narrowed to mere slits for a moment, then an evil grin blossomed on her face.
“You had a hot guy come in, didn’t you? Why else would those fires not bother
you?”

“Hey now, you
know I don’t look at my clients like that.”

“Liar!” She
squealed. “Oooh, look at your face turning red! Ha! I knew it!”

I put my hands
on my cheeks, more to test their temperature than shield them from view. Warm,
of course, which meant I was guilty as charged.

Sarah snagged my
arm, dragged me toward the table, then pointed at a seat. “Sit.” She took the
seat across from me and leaned in. “Now dish.”

I glanced past
her, making sure the coast was clear. The last thing I wanted was for Mitch to
hear this. That man was relentless when it came to teasing, especially about my
love life—or lack thereof. “Okay, so maybe there was a guy who wasn’t too bad
on the eyes…”

“You’re holding
back. What did he look like? Tall? Beefy?”

“Beefy?” I
laughed. “Who says
beefy
anymore?”

“Stop avoiding
my questions, damn it! I need details!”

This was the
most excited Sarah had been about any of my jobs since…well, ever. Maybe if I
could convince her that I stood a better chance of finding Mr. Right in Fort Wayne, she’d be more supportive of me working there. And hopefully, eventually me
moving away as well.

“Okay, okay. He
was tall. And lean. Nice arms, broad shoulders.”

I paused to
savor the memory.

Sarah giggled.
“Oh, somebody is definitely crushing on her new client.”

“Am not. I
just…enjoyed the view.”

“So, was this
view nice enough to renege on your silly ‘no dating clients’ rule?”

“Nope, not gonna
happen. Come on, you know me better than that. Besides, he’s got a girlfriend.
Who works at the spa with me. So enjoying the view is all I’ll be doing.
Though, maybe he’s got some hot friends he could set me up with…”

“Or
maybe
you could try to lure him away from your coworker. You’ve got six months to
try, right?”

“Ha! I don’t
think so. He’s totally out of my league.” I looked away from the dirty look she
was giving me and sighed. “And his girlfriend is a total you-know-what. I don’t
want to piss her off.”

“Well, unless
she’s a masseuse, too, the cards are definitely stacked in your favor. I mean,
who wouldn’t want to marry hands as talented as yours?”

At that moment, Mitch
walked in with one last dinner plate. Hallelujah, I’d been saved. Now maybe we
could get off the Torrunn topic and Sarah’s attempt to plant traitorous ideas
in my head.

“Sorry, don’t
let me interrupt.”

I jumped up and
took his plate, then tossed him a look of mock irritation. “Thanks a lot.”

He just smiled
and headed for the refrigerator. I tossed my towel over one shoulder and crossed
the room to drop his plate into the murky remains of our soapy water. As I
watched it disappear beneath the surface, I realized my only hope of escape
from this conversation was a solid diversion. But what could possibly trump hot
guy talk?

I plucked a glass
from the drying rack and opened the cupboard directly above me. The one that used
to hold all of their glasses, but now contained nothing but bowls, aligned by
both size and color. “Uh, did you move the drinking glasses?”

Sarah pointed to
a cupboard on the other side of the sink. “Over there.”

And there it was—the
perfect detour from our prior conversation. “Hmm, I thought nesting didn’t
start until the
second
trimester. Or was it the third?”

Her eyes grew to
the size of small saucers. “What?”

I put the glass
in its new home and turned back to face Sarah. “Sweetheart, I’ve known you my
whole life. Hiding something like this is rather pointless, don’t you think?”

Her gaze lasered
to Mitch, who’d just twisted the cap off a fresh bottle of beer and had frozen
in mid-sip at the mention of ‘trimester’. “And you? Did you know, too?”

He lowered his
beer with a grimace. “Well…”

“God, is it that
obvious?” Her shoulders slumped. “Ron doesn’t have a clue. And honestly? I’m scared
to even tell him. I know how stressed he gets when the kids are acting up.”

“Three kids’ll
do that to ya,” Mitch said, then took a long drink.

I shot him a
dirty look as I crossed the room and came to stand behind Sarah’s chair.
“Stressed or not, he loves each and every one of them.” I planted a kiss on the
top of her head, and brought my hands up to try and knead the tension out of
her shoulders. “And he loves you.”