One Hot Summer (28 page)

There was that
we
again.
Bizarre.
“I'm not in prison, Mom.”

“I miss you. Don't you want to come home? By the time the dust settles and Wynn realizes what an asset you could be to his company in Los Angeles, planning all their big events, I'll be done filming. We can be a family again for the holidays.”

Remedy bit her tongue against asking who she was including in the
we
this time or from pointing out that she and her parents hadn't been together as a family since she was twelve and that Remedy's holidays ever since had been a complicated dance of divided time between her parents' households.

The holidays were the busiest time of the year at Briscoe Ranch Resort, as well as the most beautiful, she'd heard, with the whole resort transformed into a winter wonderland. Remedy couldn't wait to be a part of that and to see Granny June's Mistletoe Effect in action. Already Remedy was busy planning weddings for nearly every day of the month of December for so many sweet, optimistic, love-struck couples. She'd have to pass that off to a new planner or to Alex. How could she leave Granny June, Alex, Emily, and the rest of her coworkers in the lurch like that? How could she leave Micah like that?

“I've got to go, Mom. I've got a lot of work to do.”

Regardless of the choice she made or if Cambelle and Wynd's wedding marked the beginning of Remedy's end at Briscoe Ranch, there was one inescapable truth. Hollywood was about to invade Dulcet, Texas, and there was no way, no how, this town—or Remedy—was ready for it.

 

Chapter Fourteen

Every year, Micah sprung for tux rentals for his crew to wear at the firefighter ball. It was his thing, and the day of the tux fittings was always a great chance for them to take a pause from the stress and danger of the fire season to get together and let loose. The tux rental rep made a house call to the firehouse, and they all chipped in for pizza. But this year, the tension Micah had first sensed at Albert and Tabby's wedding was thick and uncomfortable.

Micah had all kinds of theories, most of them revolving around the possibility that his crew had somehow gotten wind of Ty Briscoe's threat to separate the fire marshal job from the fire station, but that seemed improbable, given that Briscoe hadn't yet acted on his threat in any measurable way.

It was a safety issue now, because if they got a call for a fire they'd need to work like a well-oiled machine, not a dysfunctional family. By the time the tux rental rep had taken all the measurements and left, the chilly silence in the room had Micah ready to burst. He shut the door and faced the dozen men in the room. “All right. That's enough. Time to clear the air. What's going on with you guys? Why are you pissed at me?”

Nobody spoke. Dusty and Chet exchanged a look.

“Dusty, start talking.”

All he did was shoot another look at Chet.

Chet stepped forward. “You're a hypocrite is what the problem is.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Remedy Lane. You threatened us all within an inch of our lives to stay away from her. You kept insisting that Briscoe Ranch Resort executives were off-limits, so that's what we've been doing all these years, but I suppose you wanted to keep them all for yourself, because there you were at Albert's wedding, kissing Remedy. And almost every morning since then she's doing the walk of shame out of your house.”

Micah's stomach dropped. So that was it. This was about Remedy. Of course. He should've predicted his guys' hostility. More than that, he should've been the one initiating this conversation the minute he'd learned that word had gotten out that he'd kissed Remedy. First things first, though. “Don't let me be hearing that term again, and not just with Remedy. You don't get to shame someone for doing something you'd do in a heartbeat, just because she's a woman.”

“Way to deflect the issue, asshole,” Dusty said.

Chet squared up to Micah, a smirk on his face. “Like I said, I suppose you wanted to keep her for yourself.”

Dusty piped in. “That's low-down, Chief. Not that I wouldn't have done the same thing, but that's low-down that you didn't even give us a shot at winning her.”

“She's not some prize to be squabbled over.”

Chet swaggered forward. “So that's how little she means to you, boss? Better not let her hear you talk about her that way. For the record, if she'd been mine I would've treated her like a prize. Like a goddamn treasure. But I guess we'll never know, because you didn't give me a chance with her.”

This was spiraling out of control way too fast. Time to dial it back. “That's not what I meant. She's not a prize, because she's a person who makes up her own mind.”

“Seems to me like you helped her make up her mind. Once you laid claim, there ain't another man in this county who'd dare cross you on it. Must be nice to be the top dog.”

The idea that Remedy was so weak-willed as to be so easily influenced about who to date or that he had the power to claim a woman as wildly independent as her was laughable, but he kept a stony expression firmly on his face. “I didn't know this was going to happen between me and Remedy.”

He let their scoffs die down, then added, “I didn't. Truly. I'm fully aware that I broke my own rule about fraternizing with resort executives. It wasn't my intent to keep you all from having a chance with her. Or keep you from socializing with any other Briscoe employees, either.”

“But that's exactly what happened,” Chet said.

Other than the whole “laying of claims” objectification of Remedy and the assumption of her lack of agency in her romantic affairs, they were right about him forbidding them from pursuing her only to go and pursue her himself.

“You're right. You're all right. It was hypocritical of me and I should've come talk to y'all straightaway when I realized things were happening between her and me. I can't turn back time and I don't know how to make this right with you, because what's done is done.”

“You've got to break it off with her.”

That wasn't going to happen. “Next suggestion?”

“What about that slippery slope you're so fond of preaching about? About us getting complacent, about us crossing lines and bending rules about public safety if we let ourselves succumb to the charms of the Briscoe Ranch people?”

For the first time, Micah considered Ty Briscoe's threat of shifting fire marshal duties to a different department. What if that was for the best? Micah and his team could concentrate on fighting fires instead of enforcing the law and worrying about conflicts of interest with the resort staff. The only trouble was, whoever Briscoe handpicked to be the new fire marshal would be little more than his bought-and-paid-for puppet, which would put the entire county—the entire hill country region—in grave danger. Micah couldn't let that happen any more than he could let his crew be divided by his lack of leadership since Remedy had crashed into his life.

He felt like asshole number one when he said, “I know what this looks like, but the safety of the people of Dulcet and the guests at the resort is still my top priority. I'm determined to keep the boundaries between my personal life and professional life as firm as possible.”

Chet gave a hard laugh. “Yeah, while you're banging Ty Briscoe's top employee. Do you really expect us to believe you're not going to be skipping an inspection here or there, or making special allowances for your new bed warmer?”

A sudden burst of anger gripped Micah's chest. Calling him on his mistake was one thing, but nobody was going to get away with disrespecting his woman. He dropped his voice low so there would be no room for misunderstanding of Micah's intent. “Do yourself a favor and never talk about any woman that way again—especially Remedy.”

Chet surged forward, like he was ready to thump chests with Micah or some other macho bullshit, but one of the guys pulled him back. Lucky for Chet, because pounding through Micah's blood was that old familiar need to protect his family and friends no matter how tough the fight or how mean he had to get. Micah held his ground and let his savage streak show on his face, in the flare of his nostrils and the hard set of his jaw.

Dusty planted himself between Chet and Micah, his arms out as buffers. “Back down, Chet. You too, Chief. I'm not going to let this family lose its shit over some girl. She ain't worth it.”

Dusty was right. Not about Remedy being not worth it, because she was and then some, but he was right about Chet and the rest of Micah's fire crew being his family, too, rather than an enemy threat to the people he loved. He drew a measured breath, tamping his anger down.

“Look, guys. All I can give you is my word that I'm going to keep that hard edge between my private life and my personal life. And y'all deserve for me to trust you to do the same in your personal lives, too. No more rules about who you can and can't socialize with when you're off work. And what I need from you in return is that you give Remedy the same respect and protection we give all the other girlfriends and wives of the crew.”

“To be clear,” Dusty said in a neutral tone. “You've told Remedy that the county commissioner finally went through with the burn ban until November? She knows the resort can't do any kind of pyrotechnic or fireworks display?”

Guilt pierced through his conscience. “The subject hasn't come up yet.”

Dusty's eyes turned dull with disappointment. Chet snickered. “Right. Okay, Chief. No special treatment. We get it.”

“I would like to think that my record for keeping our town safe is enough to keep your trust. I'd like to think you know me well enough to understand that my responsibility to the people of this town is solid enough to withstand my dating life.”

“We'll see, Chief. We'll see.”

They would see, because Micah was determined to handle all the complicated facets of his life tugging at his attention—his relationship with Remedy, his job, Ty Briscoe's threats. Now he could add to that list repairing the trust he'd broken with his team.

*   *   *

On the day of the Firefighters' Charity Ball, Remedy rose in the dark after only a few hours of restless sleep. Micah pulled her into his arms for a groggy kiss. The gesture was grounding and gave her hope the two of them would find their way back into sync after the relationship funk they'd fallen into during the past couple weeks.

With him being in the middle of fire season and her being in the middle of the summer wedding season and with Cambelle and Wynd's wedding date fast approaching, Remedy and Micah didn't do a whole lot of talking in the late-night hours they carved out to see each other, the only available time they had. No more Sundays off, Remedy was pushing herself seven days a week. Micah, it seemed, was doing the same.

Sometimes her instincts picked up the vibe that he was keeping something from her, but she didn't need to have a psychology degree to figure out that she was probably just projecting, since she still hadn't found the words to tell him about the Cambelle and Wynd wedding beyond the bare-bones explanation that she'd had a five-hundred-guest rush wedding dropped in her lap.

She scratched her nails along the thick stubble covering his cheek. “I can't wait to see you in a tux.”

His eyes fluttered open, then closed again. “I can't wait to attend a Remedy Lane signature event, this time as a guest.”

She slipped out of his embrace and out of bed. “Go back to sleep for now. I'll see you this afternoon when you come for your inspection.”

His eyes snapped wide open. “Hey, about that. I'm bringing Chet with me for the inspection and we're going to be thorough. My guys are grumbling about me giving you special treatment.”

Perhaps that was the reason he'd been so stressed out and distant.

“I'm on board with you going by the book, always. I don't want you to go lax on my events because we're dating.”

Frowning, he sat up. “I haven't been lax. I would never compromise people's safety.”

“I know that, and I didn't mean to suggest otherwise. I was trying to say that I support you with whatever you have to do for your job.”

“Then you should probably also know that there's a burn ban in effect, countywide, along with most other counties in Texas. No more fire or fireworks or live explosives at the resort for the rest of the fire season.”

No fireworks?
Cambelle and Helen weren't going to like that one bit. Her expression must have revealed her panic, because Micah said, “That going to be a problem?”

“No. Of course not. It's just that this wedding I'm planning, the rush one for next month, it's got my stomach tied in knots.”

“Why did you take on this rush wedding job if it's so stressful? Don't you have a policy about
x
number of planning months minimum or something? If you don't, you should.”

Her attention shifted to the clock. She was set to meet Litzy and Tabby at seven thirty to start prepping for the ball. Tabby had been a revelation. She'd helped Litzy focus in a way that Remedy had been unable to. In a matter of weeks, the two of them had become a dream team of assistants—something Remedy had previously wondered if she'd ever find, given the betrayal by her last assistant in Los Angeles—but they didn't do her any good if Remedy wasn't there to give them guidance that morning with the millions of tasks that needed to be accomplished before the ball. But this conversation with Micah was long overdue. She needed to tell him now about who the rush wedding was for or it would be a lie of omission, a serious breach of trust between them.

She could feel her heart beating fast against her ribs and in her throat. “I do have a policy like that, but this wedding is for two family friends.”

Those serious dark eyes shuttered. “You haven't mentioned that you know the couple who're getting married.”