Firefly Mountain (7 page)

A wet nose pressed into her kneecap, and Gini looked down. “Hey there, pup.” She scooted down to pet Midas.

“So you see him. Can talk to him.”

Her eyes fluttered to Patrick’s face as he stood in the doorway of Mason’s office.

Damn, he tricked me.

“He hasn’t been an ignorant thug.” Gini focused back on Midas. The dog buried his face in her lap as she scratched between his ears.

“Look, we got started on the wrong foot. I’m not an ignorant thug. Just a camera shy one.”

Gini lifted her gaze, and the smile on Patrick’s face had her breath hitching in her throat. The smile made the golden flecks in his hazel eyes glint, and his lips looked as if they were capable of real danger. Anger wasn’t the only emotion she had to worry about around Patrick.

“I suppose I can be a tad pushy when I don’t get my way,” Gini said. “I want the calendar to be perfect, for it to raise a ton of money for the animal shelter.”

“It can do so without my picture,” Patrick said.

“Sure, but—”

“Don’t.” Patrick shook his head. “You won’t change my mind, Gini. Why don’t we call a truce and go from there?”

Gini strangled her purse strap as the sound of her name out of Patrick’s mouth sent tingly ripples throughout her body. Why did he have to be so tall?

“A truce?” She chewed her bottom lip. A truce had to be easier than ignoring him, which wasn’t going so well at present. “Okay, deal.”

Patrick held out a hand and Gini took it. They shook and maybe held on a bit longer than necessary before Patrick broke the connection. “I won’t be an ignorant thug, and you won’t pester me about pictures.”

“Right,” Gini said.

“Good.” Patrick slipped his hands into his pockets and stepped around Gini. “See you around.” He patted his thigh, and Midas trotted after him out of the police station.

Gini leaned against the wall again and brushed her hair out of the way. Had she made a deal she couldn’t keep? It wasn’t like her to back down when she wanted something. And now she’d proven she could be around Patrick without setting things on fire. He could be civilized. She could be cordial. It could work.

Why did she feel as if it wasn’t that simple?

“You’re still here?” Mason tapped her on the shoulder, causing her to jump.

“Just petting Patrick and talking to Midas.” She coughed on her mistake. “I mean…petting Midas and talking to Patrick.” She busied herself looking for her car keys in her bag.

“He’s something, huh?” Mason asked.

“Yeah, that dog is amazing.” Gini pulled out her keys and studied her sandals.

“You know I didn’t mean the dog, Gini.” Mason tipped her chin up with his index finger. “You want to tell me why you were trying so hard to make Patrick nonexistent in there?” He gestured over his shoulder to his office.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mason.”

“Shutterbug, it’s me. Don’t forget I know you almost as well as your family does.”

Except he didn’t know everything about her. He didn’t know the secret. She would never tell him.

“Okay, I’m caught, Mr. All-Knowing Detective.” Gini held her hands up in mock surrender. “I met Patrick yesterday and we…clashed. I figured ignoring him was the best plan of action.”

“Mature.” Mason swerved out of Gini’s reach as she tried to shove him.

“I didn’t say it was a good plan. I’ve abandoned it anyway.”

“Oh?” Mason’s eyebrows rose as a teasing smirk slid across his lips.

“If you weren’t armed right now, I’d kick your ass, Rivers,” Gini said.

“Lucky for me.” He tapped her on the nose. “Stay out of trouble, Claremont.” He laughed and went back into his office.

Stay out of trouble?

Easier said than done.

Working out always cleared Patrick’s mind. Lift a weight, inhale. Lower a weight, exhale. Cleansing. Balancing. After his encounter with Gini, he’d felt all jumbled up, as if he were a bottle of soda someone had shaken, dropped down a flight of stairs, and thrown in a clothes dryer. Things were quiet at the station, so he’d headed to the training room determined to regroup.

He’d completed his last rep on the weights and started on some abs work when Jonah came in.

“For a working dog, Midas sleeps on the job a great deal,” he said. “He’s curled up on one of the bunks in the dorm.”

Patrick sat up on his mat. “I like to think he sleeps so much so he’ll be sharp when he’s on a case. Besides we ran four miles this morning. He’s allowed to be tired.”

“You ran
and
you’re in here. You training for the Olympics or something?” Jonah grabbed the chin-up bar and pulled himself up, lowered, pulled himself up again.

“No.” Patrick started some crunches. “Just trying to get centered.”

Jonah stopped his chin-ups and let his feet drop to the ground. “Centered?”

“Yeah, you know, get all those crazy thoughts whipping through your mind to shut the hell up. Centered.” Patrick studied Jonah’s face. Worry lines appeared at the corners of Jonah’s mouth.

“What kind of crazy thoughts?” Jonah stood over Patrick on the mat.

Crazy thoughts about your sister.
“New town, new job, new house crazy thoughts,” Patrick said instead. “A possible arson case. Take your pick.”

Jonah let out a breath and tapped his sneakers together. “Right. Everyday stuff. I got ya. Where’s the new house?”

“Actually, it’s an old house,” Patrick said. “Up on Hope Hill Road.”

“That place practically swallowed by the woods?”

“That’d be the one.”

“No offense, man, but if I remember correctly, that house is a shithole.”

Patrick laughed. So easy to do around Jonah. “You do remember correctly, but I know how to use a hammer, right?”

“You’d better know how to use way more than a hammer, dude.” Jonah walked back to the chin-up bar. “You got a master plan for the place?”

“Of course.”

“Let me know if you need a hand. I work for beer.”

“Good to know. I might take you up on that. There’s a ton to do up there.”

“Why don’t we get started on the beer tonight, and you can show me the plan?”

A social invite? So soon. So casually delivered. Patrick’s gut tensed. He wasn’t good at this being buddies thing. He didn’t have a degree in male bonding. Hadn’t even taken the first class. It couldn’t be too late to learn though, could it?

“Sure. It’d be good to get another set of eyes on the plan. Make sure I didn’t miss something.”

“Great.” Jonah smiled like a little boy. “Down the street from the station is a bar called Wolf’s. You’ll see why when you meet the owner. Anyway, meet me there at eight-ish and we’ll talk studs and nails.”

Patrick went back to his crunches. Jonah flew through his chin-ups and hopped on the treadmill. No more conversation between them necessary, though Patrick started planning out what he’d say over beer that night.

How far would he let Jonah in? How far could he afford to?

****

“Only eleven fighters signed release forms.” Haddy sat across from Gini at the studio’s rectangular work table. They had ordered eggplant sandwiches from Maury’s and ate lunch as they scheduled firefighter photo shoots.

“I know.” Gini bit into her sandwich and let the flavor keep her from getting annoyed. “The new guy, Patrick, won’t let me take his picture.”

“Really? How come?” Haddy stopped chewing.

“Camera shy, or so he says.” Gini gulped her lemonade.

“Is he hideous or something?” When Gini spilled lemonade and fumbled around to wipe it up, Haddy pushed her lunch aside and raised her eyebrows. “Oh, I see. He’s super-hot, isn’t he?”

“Yes. No. I mean, I don’t know.” Gini mopped up her drink and kneeled on the floor to catch the puddle forming there. When she rose, she whacked her head on the edge of the table. “Ouch. Dammit.”

“Gini, Gini, Gini,” Haddy said. “I know a love struck gal when I see one, and you, my friend, are—”

“Not love struck,” Gini finished. “I don’t know the guy. How could I be love struck?”

“That’s what ‘love struck’ means, sister. Struck by love so instantly that it doesn’t make any logical sense. It happens to people all the time.” Haddy went back to eating her sandwich.

“Yeah, well, it doesn’t happen to me. It didn’t happen. Patrick is an attractive man, I’ll admit that, but he’s too…too…I don’t know. Too something that’s not for me.”

“Mmm-hmm.” Haddy wiped her mouth with her napkin, but didn’t wipe the smirk away.

“Cut it out, Haddy, or I’ll bust you up about Jonah.”

“Go right ahead. There’s nothing between Jonah and me.”

“And if he waltzed in here right now and said, ‘Haddy, want to go for a ride in my Mustang?’ I suppose you wouldn’t jump at the chance, right?” Gini threw away her lemonade-soaked napkins and folded her arms across her chest.

“I’m not your brother’s type.” Haddy combed her fingers through the end of her straight, chestnut brown hair. Her pale green eyes hid behind wire-rimmed glasses. The burgundy blouse she had on today made her olive complexion look a little on the exotic side. Her flowing skirt with tiny burgundy flowers on it fell to the knee and revealed a long, shapely line of leg. She’d be anyone’s type.

“Don’t be silly. Jonah doesn’t have a type.” Gini sat back in her seat and finished her sandwich.

“Yes, he does. He only dates red-heads.” Again, Haddy fingered her own hair. “Think I should go red?”

“Absolutely not. If you dye your hair because you think it’ll get my brother’s attention, I’ll fire you.” Gini wagged a finger at Haddy. “Besides, I wouldn’t be so sure you don’t already have my brother’s attention.”

“Why? What did he say?” Haddy gripped the end of the work table and leaned forward far enough that her shirt grazed the sandwich in front of her. Sauce dotted a section around her left nipple. “Oh, crap.” She dabbed at it with her napkin, but sauce on a shirt never turned out well.

“For someone who isn’t interested in Jonah, you seem really interested.”

“Shut up.” Haddy marched off to the studio’s bathroom, but laughed most of the way there.

Gini reviewed the fighters’ photo release forms while she waited for Haddy and stared at the last one in the pile. The blank form. Patrick’s form.

“How can I get your photo, Patrick? How?” There had to be a way to get him to agree. She’d convinced other camera-phobics to let her capture them on film. Generally, they were happy with the results too. Camera-shyness usually came from the belief that one didn’t photograph well. All it usually took was one good picture to convince someone that they were photogenic. She had a hard time believing that Patrick thought he didn’t photograph well. He had to have seen himself in the mirror and been pleased with what reflected back. It looked pretty damn good to Gini.

And she knew picturesque muscles rested beneath his shirt that would make any woman who bought her calendar foam at the mouth. How could he deny the women of Burnam such a show?

He couldn’t, Gini decided. He’d made her lose her cool once, but now she’d be nothing but charming. He’d be unable to deny her this one small photo request.

“Stop thinking so hard, Gini. You’ll pull a muscle.”

Jonah sauntered into the studio and leaned his elbows on the work table.

“What are you doing here?” What had her face looked like when Jonah snuck up on her? Would he know she was picturing Patrick shirtless?

“Lunch run for the station. Ma made us all sandwiches at the bakery.”

“Okay, but that doesn’t answer what you’re doing
here
.” She smiled when Jonah stuck his tongue out at her. When they were kids they used to stick their tongues out at each other all the time. Mama would yell and say something like, “You two ought to be thankful you have each other. I had no one as a little girl and it was awful lonely.”

Mama had hated being an only child, and Gini was pretty sure she would have hated it too. Of course, that didn’t stop Jonah and her from sticking their tongues out at each other.

“You know anyone that likes nipples Italian-style?” Haddy came out of the bathroom still rubbing at the wet, red-orange stain on her blouse. When she looked up and saw Jonah standing there, her face reddened. Beads of sweat actually dotted Haddy’s brow.

“Every guy in Burnam likes nipples Italian-style,” Jonah said. “I like extra cheese on mine.”

“I didn’t know you were here.” Haddy reached for one of the old, flannel shirts they kept in the studio for the messy projects they sometimes did. She slipped it on and folded in across her front like a robe.

Jonah sent her a smile, and Haddy flushed deeper. Gini watched the two of them stare at each other and shook her head. Some people didn’t see what was right in front of them.

“Are you going to tell me why you’re here, Jonah, or are you here to gaze dreamily at Haddy?”

“Huh? What?” Jonah closed his eyes, while Haddy shot Gini a look of death.

Gini stifled a chuckle and stood. “What do you want?”

“Oh, right. I’m heading over to Wolf’s tonight. You want to come?” He glanced over to Haddy. “Both of you?”

“Oh, tonight?” Gini pulled at her lower lip. “Let’s see. Haddy, can you check our schedule for tonight? Are we free?” She sent her friend an encouraging grin.

“Y-yes,” Haddy said. “I’m free. I mean, we’re free.”

“Great. Okay, Jonah, see you tonight.” Gini nudged him toward the door.

“Right, tonight. Eight o’clock.” He opened the door. “Bye, Haddy,” he called over his shoulder.

Gini closed the door and skipped over to Haddy. “Well, well, well. What a turn of events. What a turn.”

“What am I going to wear?” Haddy asked. “I can’t go. I don’t have anything to wear.” She hung up the flannel shirt and swallowed loudly.

“As soon as we get this schedule of shoots done, we’re going shopping, girlie. There is no way you are not going tonight.”

Haddy nodded and threw away their lunch trash. She picked up her pad, and Gini grabbed the release forms. Studying the blank one again, she thought about Jonah. Maybe she could recruit him to help her convince Patrick that having his picture taken wasn’t the worst thing in the world. She’d ask him tonight at Wolf’s. After a beer. After a few beers.