Winter's Fire (Welcome to Covendale #7) (2 page)

But things had escalated quickly—and with her already in his arms, there was no way he could’ve said no.

He sat up slowly, stifling a groan. The sheets were mussed on the empty side of the bed, the pillow still slightly indented where she’d lain. At least he hadn’t imagined her. Then something caught his eye on the nightstand by the phone, a sheet of paper torn from one of the resort’s note pads. He reached over and grabbed it.

On it, scrawled in a concise and business-like hand:
Thanks for a great night.

That was it. No name, no phone number, no invitation to look her up or find out more about her. Five little words that closed the door on the most intense experience of his life, ensuring that it would remain an isolated incident.

Whoever she was, she didn’t want to be found.

He folded the piece of paper carefully, found his wallet and tucked it inside. One more day, one more depressing round of follow-ups and chasing loose ends before he could head home to Covendale, but at least the funeral was over. Maybe he’d ask around, find out if anyone knew who Miss No Names was—or more importantly, where she’d gone after here. He wanted another chance to convince her that it didn’t have to be one-and-done.

Adam didn’t give up easy on anything. And he had a feeling she’d be worth it.

Chapter 1

Covendale – One Year Later

Winter had never been to a bed and breakfast before, and she wasn’t sure she liked it much. She was used to hotels. In general, they weren’t quite so…cheerful.

She’d come into town on a bus. The bus station was also a Laundromat, a convenience store, and an entertainment center, which apparently meant a handful of video games and a few tables where you could sit and play the lotto. There were no taxis, but some nice older woman had offered to drive her the half-mile to The Whispering Rose. Which, of course, was the town’s only bed and breakfast.

The woman who’d checked her in—Sandy or Andrea, she’d barely caught the name in the flood of chatter—had greeted her like an old friend. She’d gushed over Winter’s unusual name, insisted on carrying her bag, and rattled off a string of places to visit and things to do in Covendale, which had seemed awfully long for such a small town. Then Sandy-or-Andrea informed her that breakfast was served at eight a.m. on the dot, and that all the guests ate together.

She could hardly wait to feign interest in more strangers talking at her.

She had to admit, the room was very nice. Spacious yet cozy, with stone walls, hardwood floor, a soft area carpet beneath the bed, a sitting area arranged around a fireplace. There was even a Jacuzzi tub in the bathroom. Realistically she’d only be here for one night, but the stay would be comfortable.

After she’d stowed her bag at the foot of the bed, she brought her phone out and called her boss. He answered on the second ring, skipping the greeting. “So, how is it?” he said. “Picturesque and relaxing, right?”

“I’m here to work, Teddy,” she said. “And it’s…small.”

“Oh, come on. You can do better than that.”

She sighed. “The room is nice.”

“Very descriptive.” She could hear the grin in his voice. “You know, I don’t need you back here right away,” he said. “You could take a few days. Enjoy the room, see the sights.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t be trying to make me take another vacation, would you, Teddy?”

“No, no. Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Uh-huh.” She still hadn’t recovered from the last time she’d “relaxed.” Every time she thought about the previous summer and that final night on the beach—which was far more often than she cared to admit—her pulse raced a little faster and her skin grew too warm. She still couldn’t believe she’d done…what she’d done. Or who she’d done it with. Twice. A complete stranger whose name she’d never know, the kind of man who never would’ve given her a second glance if he’d known her. “Look, this won’t take long,” she said at last, firmly changing the subject. “I mean, how much trouble could a small-town fire department possibly cause? It’s probably just a couple of misplaced numbers.”

“Might be,” he said. “Just make sure you’re thorough, because you never know.”

“I always am, Teddy.”

“Yes, you’re very serious,” he said. “And that’s what worries me.”

“That I’m good at my job?”

“That you
are
your job,” he said with a sigh. “Look, Win. I know this is important to you—but make an old man happy and try to have a little fun. Enjoying yourself does not make you any less good at your job. All right?”

She frowned. “I’ll try. But really, it looks like there isn’t much to do around here. Besides cow tipping.”

“Is that really a thing?”

“Apparently,” she said. “Sandy, or possibly Andrea, has assured me that the cows like it. Unless they’re bulls.”

Teddy laughed. “Try not to tip any bulls, then,” he said. “I think they’re the ones with horns.”

“Oh, it’s much easier to tell from the back.”

He laughed harder, and she cracked a smile. “Let me know what you find out,” he said. “But take your time. In fact, maybe you should try out that Jacuzzi before you get to work.”

“Hey. How did you know about the Jacuzzi?”

“The fire marshal’s office is footing the bill. For that rate, they’d better have one,” he said. “Talk to you later, Win.”

“All right. Bye, Teddy.”

She disconnected, slid the phone in her pocket and went for her bag. There was no sense waiting—might as well get things started now, and maybe she could relax or whatever later. She had brought a book or two along.

The file on the Covendale FD was surprisingly thick. Reports they’d received from the insurance company included allegations of inflated cost claims for accident cleanups and unbalanced spending compared to intake—in other words, they were bringing in far more money than they were using for business expenses.

It was her job to find out where that money was going, and why.

Winter placed the files in her briefcase and headed out, deliberately not thinking of ocean-blue eyes and incredible sex on the beach. She’d have to thank Teddy later for making her not think of that again.

 * * * *

Adam knocked on the door of the chief’s office and waited for the familiar, gruff, “Yeah, what?” before he opened it.

“You wanted to see me, Chief?”

“Actually, I wanted to see Marilyn Monroe. But I’ll settle for you.” Chief Mike Smallwood waved him in without looking up from the paper in front of him. More stacks of papers and file folders littered his desk. The fire station had a computerized system, but the chief didn’t trust it—and besides, they were obligated to keep hard copies of records for insurance purposes. “Got your requisition here,” he said, giving the paper a tap. “Sit down.”

Adam sighed as he dropped into the seat in front of the chief’s desk. He knew what was coming, but he’d still had to try. “Let me guess,” he said. “It’s not in the budget.”

“Bingo.”

“Chief, we’ve got to replace that ladder.”

Mike finally looked at him. “You know we can’t.”

“It’s flat-out dangerous,” Adam said. “We can’t keep fixing it—we need a new one. Hell, we should just replace Engine Two completely.” He leaned forward and pointed at the report he’d submitted. “Didn’t you read that? Luke almost fell two stories. He could’ve been hurt, or killed.”

The chief snorted. “Luke Aldridge could fall off a sidewalk and kill himself. Why is he on the ladder? I thought you were putting Goddard up.”

“You know I won’t do that.”

“He’s a good firefighter.”

“And a horrible person.” Ethan Goddard wasn’t interested in being part of the team—and his cronies, Vermont Ward and Kade Whitney, weren’t much better. Ethan was smart, strong…and also vain and competitive. And until he improved his attitude, Adam refused to put another man’s life in his hands. “Look, you put me in charge of this stuff,” he said to the chief. “It’s my decision, and I already made it.”

Mike groaned. “You gave the promotion to Aldridge, didn’t you?”

“He has potential.”

“Goddard’s going to shit a brick.” The chief shook his head. “Well, I guess that’s your funeral. Sorry about the ladder.”

Adam’s jaw firmed. “Sorry isn’t going to keep our guys safe out there,” he said. “Isn’t there anything we can do?”

“I’m telling you, we don’t have the budget to replace it!” The chief pounded the desk in frustration. “I’ve been over and over this crap, and I just can’t squeeze out the money. If there was any way…” He sighed. “Rhodes, you know about Ben and Valley Ridge. Think I wanted to do that? He’s a good man, and it hurts like hell letting him go.”

“Yeah, I know.” The Covendale-Valley Ridge partnership allowed for a unique situation, in that they were one of the few small towns with paid professional emergency services, rather than volunteers. At least, they had been until the budget started drying up. A few weeks ago, Chief Smallwood had made the painful decision to close the Valley Ridge station—which meant an early and unwanted retirement for Ben Schaeffer, the station director.

Mike and Ben went way back. The whole thing hit Adam hard, too—and not just because it increased the strain on his crew, since Covendale was now handling all services for both towns. Ben Schaeffer was an old family friend, nearly a second father to him. And he knew that for Ben, the job was everything.

“I’m sorry, Adam.” The chief’s frustration slid into real regret. “We just can’t—”

A knock at the office door interrupted, and the chief shot a narrow-eyed glance toward it. “What?” he barked.

The door opened, and Dominic Shepherd stuck his head in. He looked at Adam first. The grin on his best friend’s face was suspicious at best. “Sorry to interrupt the party,” Dom said. “There seems to be a fire marshal here.”

“Goddamn it, that’s just what we need now,” Mike said. “Why are they here?”

Dom shrugged. “Don’t know. But they want the man in charge.”

Chief Smallwood’s expression twisted briefly, and then he sighed. “Rhodes, can you go deal with this guy?” he said. “I want go over this again. Maybe I missed something, somewhere. You’re right—we have to replace that ladder.”

“Er. I would, but I’m not in charge.”

“Sure you are.” The chief smirked at him. “Congratulations, you’ve just been promoted. You’re the department liaison.”

“The what?”

“I made it up. But it sounds good, doesn’t it?” He actually smiled for a moment. “Just get rid of the guy, so I can find your new ladder.”

“You got it, Chief.”

Dom held the door open as Adam walked out, and then closed it behind him. “Hey, congrats on the promotion, bro,” he said. “Gonna buy me a new bike with your big, fat raise, right?”

“Oh, yeah. We’ll split the raise. I’ll take jack, and you can have squat.” Adam smirked as they headed for the stairs leading to the ground floor. He was already lieutenant and squad leader. Why not department liaison too—whatever the hell that was. “So, any idea what’s up with this fire marshal guy?”

Dom’s suspicious grin came back. “First of all, it’s not a guy,” he said. “She’s pretty hot for one of those dry insurance-type chicks. And she’s not wearing a ring.”

“So?”

“Hey, man. You haven’t been on a date since the Dark Ages.”

Adam rolled his eyes. “Are you nuts? She’s a fire marshal.”

“And?” Dom nudged him. “Look, all I’m saying is that if you’re not going to hit on her, then I will. But you might change your mind when you see her, so I’ll give you first crack.”

“Wow. What a pal.”

“That’s me. The best damned friend in the universe.”

Adam grinned in spite of himself as they reached the ground floor, and Dom led the way to the small visitor’s lobby off the engine bay. “You know what?” he said. “I’m onto you now. I bet she’s seventy years old, with alligator skin and one of those raspy, pack-a-day for fifty years voices. Am I getting warm?”

“Man, if you were any colder, you’d be in Antarctica.” Dom waggled his eyebrows and pulled the door open. “Here we are, ma’am,” he called inside. “I brought you the man in charge.”

Adam shot him a look, stepped through—and the polite smile on his face froze as the fire marshal stood and stared at him. Mai Tais and ocean waves and sand on his skin flashed through his mind in rapid procession, and he thought of the brief, probably meaningless note he’d nevertheless kept all this time.
Thanks for a great night.

He was looking at the woman who’d written it.

Chapter 2

For the first time in her life, Winter thought she might faint.

It was
him.
Ocean eyes, sex on the beach. The man she was never going to see again, who she’d met so far from home, was the chief of the Covendale Fire Department. He’d been half an hour away from her all this time. And to meet him again like this, under business circumstances—no. This could not be happening.

For what it was worth, he looked just as shocked as she felt. But that didn’t make her feel any better.

“Um, hello?” The firefighter who’d shown her inside—Don? No, he’d said Dom—stared slowly from one to the other. “You two both look like you’ve seen a ghost. Did I miss something?”

Winter forced herself to recover her professionalism. “Not at all,” she said briskly. “I’m with the county fire marshal’s office. You must be Chief…?”

“No, I’m not the chief.” The man’s shocked expression vanished, and suddenly he was grinning at her—which was even more unnerving. “Looks like I’ll be getting your name after all,” he said.

Okay, she definitely didn’t like that grin. Or his smug attitude. “No, you won’t,” she said. “If you’re not the chief, then I’m not dealing with you. I asked to speak to the man in charge.”

“That’s him,” Dom put in helpfully, with a barely contained laugh. “He’s the department liaison.”

“Well, I need to talk to the chief.”

“Chief’s busy.” The man she’d slept with advanced toward her, and it was all she could do not to step back. Oh, God, he was even more gorgeous than she remembered. She didn’t think that was possible. “I’m authorized to deal with all official matters,” he said, stopping to hold out a hand. “Adam Rhodes.”