Flirting With Fire (Hometown Heroes) (22 page)

She gave me a
blank look. “You do?”

“Sure. You were
upset that I took Dawn’s place.” Her blank look continued, and I worked to keep
my face innocent. I also tried to discreetly motion for Mitch to get his ass
over here like we’d planned. “That…was what you were mad about, wasn’t it?”

“Well, sure, that
was part of it. But when I saw—”

“Honey? Who’s at
the door?”

Finally! Footsteps
sounded in the hall, and then a warm, masculine hand slid along the small of my
back and settled on my right hip. My body stiffened in response—Mitch never
touched me like that, and it took everything I had not to jerk away in surprise.
His acting worked, though. Bunni’s eyes widened as she gave Mitch a quick
once-over.

“Mitch,
sweetheart, this is Bunni. Bunni, this is Mitch.”

“Nice to meet
you, Bunni.”

“Likewise,” she
said, a sly grin on her face.

I dug my
fingernails into my palms to keep from taking a swing at her. Making
googly-eyes with Mitch while I was standing right there and while she was
already seeing someone? The nerve of this woman!

“Sorry, Liz,”
she said then, shifting her gaze back to me. “I didn’t realize you had company.
Here, I brought you something.” She held out a bakery box. “It’s a torte, from
that place over on Wells. Consider it a peace offering.”

“Wow, thanks,
Bunni. You really didn’t have to do this.”

I took it from
her and lifted the lid to take a look…and listen for any ticking bombs she
might have planted inside. Hey, just because she brought me chocolate doesn’t
mean I’m going to instantly trust the woman.

“Yeah, I kinda
did,” she said with a shrug. “So, we good now?”

Mitch pulled me
a little closer, and I leaned into him to ham it up a bit. “Of course. Are you
sure you don’t want to stay? We were just getting ready to go out on the
balcony and catch the end of the game.”

“Oh, no. I don’t
do baseball. Can hardly stand to pretend I like it when Torrunn drags me to the
games.”

I laughed a
little too loud at that, damn the wine.

“Alright, well,
thanks again for the torte. I’m sure it’ll be delicious.”

We said our
goodbyes, and then she was gone. As soon as the door was closed, I spun around
with the box in my hands and did a little happy dance.

“Woohoo! I’m
safe once more! Mitch, you’re a life saver! That whole arm around my waist
thing really worked.”

“I thought about
kissing you, too, but worried you might actually like it.”

I stopped
dancing and rolled my eyes. “As if.”

Mitch took the box
from my unsteady hands and followed me back into the kitchen. “Seriously, you
called me all the way over here because you were worried about a cat fight with
her
?”

A cat fight—that’s
what I’d told Mitch I was concerned about. Not about her being a firebug, and not
about her accusing me of trying to steal her man. And it just somehow seemed
safer that way.

“Well, yeah.
Didn’t you see the claws on that girl?

“Honey, if
you’re going to survive in the big city, you’re going to have to learn to stand
up for yourself better. That, or move back home.”

I reached up
into the cupboard for two clean dessert plates. “This is my home now, Mitch.”

“Yeah, but are
you really safe here, with all these fires going on?” he asked, retrieving the
milk carton from the fridge.

“I’ve avoided
the flames so far.” I tipped back the bakery box’s lid and smiled. “And something
tells me that after tonight? My luck just might turn around.”

* * * *

“Can I ask you
something?”

Mitch and I were
sitting on the balcony, shoulder to shoulder, sharing an old blanket I’d found
in one of Dawn’s closets. Though it was now May, the spring air in Indiana could still pack a chilly nighttime punch this time of year. The blanket, paired
with the heat rising off my dinner guest, had me cozy and warm.

Mitch stretched
to drape an arm over the back of my chair, and I laid my head down on his
shoulder. The bottle of wine was long gone, making my noggin feel heavier than
usual. “Sure,” I said. “Shoot.”

“Why did you
really call me up here tonight?”

“I told you,” I
murmured, and let my eyelids drift shut. “To keep me safe from my unstable,
psycho coworker.”

He reached out
to brush a stray hair back from my face and tuck it carefully behind my ear. “Is
that all I’m good for? Killing spiders and fending off crazy coworkers?”

I gently elbowed
his ribcage. “I haven’t asked you to kill a monster spider in years.”

He sighed. “I
know, little Miss Independent.”

“Besides, you
know you mean more to me than that.”

“Do I?”

“Duh,” I said
and scowled, eyes still closed. What kind of question was that?

He said
something then, but I couldn’t make out the words. My head was filled with a
light humming, one assuredly caused by the wine. Between the warmth of Mitch’s
body, and a wine-induced brain fog, I gave up the fight to stay awake. Bunni no
longer hated me, and one of my best friends in the world was here with me,
bringing with him a slice of home. My old home, where everything was
predictable and safe.

And tonight,
safe was exactly what I needed.

CHAPTER
19

Torrunn’s plan
worked. Friday I received zero glares from Bunni. She even spoke to me like I
was a real person. Best of all? Not one fire siren broke the tranquil
atmosphere at the spa that day. Whatever he’d told her had done the trick. I’d
come out on top, and with a belly full of chocolate torte to boot.

Unfortunately,
all of this resulted in him being on my mind even more than usual. He hadn’t
come in for a second massage this week, though, which helped a little. The less
I saw of him, covered up by nothing but a flimsy white sheet, the better. He
was off limits, I reminded myself for the millionth time. Period.

As if that
made this stupid crush of mine go away any faster,
I thought as I crossed
the break room mid-afternoon and yanked the dryer door open with more force
than necessary.

Damn it, how had
Torrunn managed to slip past the emotional barrier I’d spent years perfecting?
I should be doing everything I could to drum up extra business and pad my nest
egg, not obsess over some silly client of mine. No matter how incredible his
body was. Or his sense of humor. Or his commitment to saving lives and civic
duties.

What I needed
was a first-rate distraction. Something to shift my focus from the untouchable
to happily-ever-after. And oh, lucky day, the answer came in the form of a text
message from Jessica.

Still trying
to get you-know-who off your mind?

(
Not helping…)

Of course
,
I typed back.

A few of us
are headed out for drinks tonight at Northside Bar. Wanna come? I can introduce
you to some people?

I couldn’t type
my response back fast enough. After getting times and directions to the place, I
went back to folding sheets. My mind was abuzz with anticipation. Finally, a
real opportunity to go out and mingle!

Tony walked into
the room as my phone beeped an alert for Jessica’s last text.

“Hot date
calling?” he asked with a mild interest.

“Pfft, no. But I
did get invited out with some friends after work.” To a bar. Where there was
sure to be other single people. And not all this being-hung-up-on-Torrunn crap.

“Good for you.
Where’re you all going?”

I looked down at
my phone. “Northside Bar? Sound familiar?”

Tony’s nose
scrunched up. “Yeah, it’s a little hole-in-the-wall neighborhood bar off East State. Not
my
preferred scene, but it’s clean.” He studied me for a moment, one
eyebrow raised. “You aren’t going dressed like that, are you?”

“Why?” Paranoia
curled its talons around me as I looked down at my khakis and polo. “What’s
wrong with what I’m wearing?”

“Tell me you
didn’t just ask me that. Seriously, Lizzie dear? You cannot go out looking like
some sad telemarketer. You need to dress up, add some flare to your attire!
You’re on the prowl, right?”

I stared down at
my clothes. Flare? “Something like that.”

“Then you need
skinny jeans, something off-the-shoulder, and mid-calf boots.” He took in my grimace
and sighed. “What time are you meeting them?”

“Seven.”

“Perfect,
that’ll give us just enough time to hit Glenbrook.”

“The mall?”

Tony rolled his
yes. “Where else are we going to find everything you need to set the night on
fire all in one location?”

“That’s really
sweet of you to offer, Tony, but I don’t know that I need to go shopping just
to have a beer or two.”

“Trust me when I
say, you do.”

He patted me on
the shoulder and walked out, leaving me to wonder what I’d just gotten myself
sucked into...and just how much this simple night out was going to cost me.

* * * *

Seven o’clock
found me in the parking lot of Northside Bar and Grill, studying my reflection
in the rearview mirror and wondering if the makeover Tony had forced me to
endure at Macy’s had been a bad idea. It felt like I was wearing a mud mask,
the stuff was caked on so thick. Though I loved what the gal at the Clinique
counter had done with my eyes.

Sultry, was what
Tony had said. Sexy was what I felt. Of course, the new skinny jeans I had on,
the pale pink hooded sweater, and mocha riding boots helped, too. Never would I
have tried on jeans this fitted. Or boots this high, for that matter. But boy,
did Tony have an eye for fashion. I stopped doubting him after trying on the
first combination he handed me. Seriously, the man was a genius.

Look out,
Clinton Kelly.

After spending
twice what I’d planned, I finally convinced Tony to call it a day. He agreed,
but not until I promised to take him shopping again next payday. And even
though the thought of depriving my nest egg any further pained me, I agreed.
Relational liar, remember? Still, I had to admit as I walked toward the bar,
he’d been a real lifesaver tonight. Now to put his handiwork to the test.

I pulled the
front door open and was greeted by the sounds of laughter, loud voices, and Bon
Jovi. Inside, Northside was cozy and clean, its patrons loud but amicable. My
kind of bar.

“Liz!” Jessica
appeared amidst the post happy hour chaos and hooked her free hand around my
elbow. “Glad you could make it! Come on, I want to introduce you to everybody.”

We wove through
the crowd and soon emerged in a small, quieter backroom. Two colorful
dartboards and their scoreboards took up the far wall, a long, smooth bar lined
the right side of the room, and the rest of the space was taken up by clusters
of high-topped tables and tall barstools. Heads in the nearest group turned as
we approached.

“Hey, everyone,
this is my friend, Liz.”

“Hi, Liz!” they
all chimed, tipping their heads and drinks in my direction.

I offered them a
small wave. “Hello.”

Jessica assumed
the role of hostess and walked me around the group, offering individual
introductions. Most of them were in their late twenties to early thirties, and
nearly all were there with someone else. Not the best ratio for me, but I
wasn’t about to give up so soon.

“Phew, did we
get everyone?” Jessica plunked down onto a barstool and swung back around to
watch her friends. “I love doing introductions and all, but Vanna White I am
not.”

“No? I thought
you did just fine.”

“Oh, I can
improvise with the best of them. But the center of attention role is much
better suited for my roommate, Grace. She thrives on all that. But in a good
way,” she added with a wink.

“Is she not
coming?”

“Oh, yeah,
she’ll be here in a bit with her fiancé, Matt. Got tied up at work, is all.”

“Well, hopefully
they don’t kidnap her for the entire night,” I said with a laugh. Jessica
choked on her beer. Must have gone down the wrong pipe or something. Once she’d
finally stopped coughing and convinced me she was alright, I asked, “So,
where’s your other half?”

“Nate?” she
croaked. “Oh, he’ll be back. Had to run home and let Brutus out.”

“Brutus?”

“His bulldog.”
She rolled her eyes. “I love the mutt, really I do. But he’s a total slobber
monster.”

“Ah, yet another
reason I’ve chosen to be pet-free.”

Jessica
shrugged. “Yeah, that was my thinking for a long time, too. But you know what?
When you’re sad and lonely, those furballs have a way of cheering you up like
no other. Oh!” She patted the stool beside her and lowered her voice. “Have a
seat and grab a napkin.”

“A napkin?”

“To catch the
drool…”

At that moment,
Northside’s bartender returned from the front room and assumed his spot behind
the bar. Oh. My. Lord. I sank down onto my seat and tried not to drool as he
skillfully executed the creation of a whiskey sour. His sandy blond hair hung
down to just above his eyes, its wavy style making him look more surfer than
Midwesterner. He had on a black Foo Fighters tee, stretched nicely across his muscular
chest, and denim jeans that were faded and fraying in all the right places.

I could have
drank that view in all night long.

Jessica excused
herself for a moment, and I promised to catch up once I’d flagged down Handsome
and got myself a drink. He kept busy with orders from the other end of the bar
for a few moments, so I remained where I was, content to enjoy the view.
Someone came up to the bar beside me, but I paid them no attention. Not when
Handsome was faced away from me and bent over, reaching for something on a low
shelf beneath the bar…

“What’re ya
drinking there, pretty lady?” a deep voice rumbled beside me.