Playing with Fire (15 page)

He’d decided to make spaghetti for dinner, with sauce from a jar. Wasn’t as good as his mother’s recipe, but it was still ten times better than more bar food. The Shell Shack’s repertoire was okay, but day after day for several months…it did get old.

Now he and Burnaby had hours to kill before the never-ending day would be over. It seemed that Burnaby felt as penned up as Derek, being stuck inside the condo for the afternoon, so they took to the beach. They walked south with no particular destination in mind.

The beach was nearly deserted, likely because it was the dinner hour. Gulls circled overhead, their sporadic calls sounding like strategy sessions on where to find the best grub. The birds kept Burnaby entertained, making him ten kinds of crazy as he tried to figure out how to snatch one from the air. The fine sand was warm beneath Derek’s bare feet although the sun was close to starting its descent.

The horizon was crisp in the distance tonight, and a large ship lurked at the edge of his vision. A little closer, a fishing boat crawled slowly along. The waves were relatively small, rolling in like a lullaby.

As they came upon The Shell Shack, Derek fought the urge to drop by and check on things. Macey was still there, about done with her shift, he knew. The only thing keeping him away was the chance of running into her.

He distanced himself from the bar by wading into knee-deep waves as they passed. Burnaby stretched his leash to the max to stay just out of reach of the rolling waves. Apparently he wasn’t a water dog.

They wandered beyond Macey’s apartment, farther south than Derek had ventured before. He was making all kinds of strides with beach exploration today, he realized. He’d just never thought to stroll along the sand before now, likely too wrapped up in himself and his grief. Straying so far from the condo was freeing and gave him a new perspective on a lot of things.

He was surprised when he saw the San Amaro Island Fire Station a good distance south of his bar. He hadn’t realized the station was on the beach. Hadn’t even considered checking it out before, but at the sight of it and the shiny red ladder truck standing at the ready, he felt an invisible force pulling him.

You miss it, don’t you?

Had he wandered by the station before now, he likely would’ve turned back and avoided it. Now, though, he was curious.

Without conscious decision, he angled toward it.

The garage sat on the street side of the lot and opened on both the north and south ends, with the trucks parked parallel to the gulf. They had an engine and two trucks, one likely a backup, plus an ambulance and a water rescue unit. The living quarters of the station were on the beach side, with floor-to-ceiling windows lining a section he’d bet was the common area.

“Let’s go pay the place a visit,” he said to the dog, which didn’t seem at all worried about where they were heading. Burnaby was too wrapped up in the gull drama, the blowing sea grasses and dog life in general.

Derek spotted the public door on the north side, surrounded by a courtyard with benches and a flagpole. As he got closer, he saw a firefighter in the garage loading something on the truck.

“Howdy,” the guy called as Derek walked toward him, and he realized it was the man Macey had gone out with. Evan Drake. Didn’t it figure that was the first person he’d run into.

Derek swallowed his annoyance and proceeded without hesitation. The guy had only taken her out once, as far as he knew. And Derek had just been with her all night.

“Evening,” Derek said. “How’s it going?”

“Not bad at all.”

The guy was friendly enough. Always had been, for that matter. If he hadn’t taken Macey on a date, he and Derek would probably get along like brothers. “You here to check things out? Thinking about joining us?”

“Just out for a walk. Haven’t been this way before.”

“Hey, boy.” Evan leaned over and gave Burnaby a rubdown.

That he was well-acquainted with the dog drove home the point that as Macey’s neighbor, he was part of her life, repeat dates or not. Derek’s jaw tightened and he had to force himself to relax.

“Like to see the place?” Evan asked.

“Sure, if you’ve got time.” He couldn’t help himself. Now that he was here, he wanted to see everything, learn about how they operated.

Just out of curiosity. Nothing else.

Evan nodded and closed the compartment on the truck. “We’re a fraction of the size of what you’re used to, but we’ve got a pretty good setup here for what we need. Except for spring break—then we could use about four more stations.”

“I can imagine the invasion of tourists.”

“Thousands of idiot students who come down and drink for a week straight. Keeps us hopping for a whole month. Come on in.”

“Got a place I could tie him up?” Derek asked, gesturing to Burnaby.

“You can bring him in. No one’ll mind.”

Derek called to the dog and followed Evan through the garage into the station itself. They went down a hallway, past several doorways, and came out in the living area. The windowed wall Derek had seen from the outside was indeed in the living room and afforded them a heck of a view.

Five men occupied the two couches and one of the easy chairs, most of them watching a baseball game on the large-screen television. One was reading a magazine.

“TV, library, video games,” Evan said, gesturing.

“What’s up, Evan?” the guy in the chair said.

“This is Derek…” He looked to Derek to supply his last name.

“Severson. I was with the Dallas Fire Department.”

Derek recognized Macey’s other friend, the guy who usually came to the bar with Evan.

“You remember Clay Marlow,” Evan said, pointing to him. “That’s Scott Pataki, Cole Tanner, Rafael Sandoval. Our captain, Joe Mendoza.”

Each man stood, shook Derek’s hand and acknowledged the knee-high black-and-white dog with a comment or a pat on the head. The canine lapped up the attention. Captain Mendoza came around the couch to Derek. “You on vacation?”

“Permanent resident,” Derek said. “Run a bar up the beach a ways. The Shell Shack.”

“I know the place,” Captain Mendoza said, nodding.

“Not fighting fires anymore?”

Derek shook his head. “Just helping out my uncle. He had to retire but can’t seem to let go of the bar.” Although it appeared he was starting to.

“We could use you here if you ever want to get back into it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.” Derek kept his tone noncommittal but polite. Even though he wasn’t prepared to jump back into firefighting, he appreciated the casual offer. Maybe in a few years he would take the captain up on it.

“I’ll show you the rest,” Evan said, leading him out of the living room.

Derek nodded to each man as they acknowledged him again with a good-night or a nice-to-meet-you.

“Kitchen’s a little small—we’ve doubled in size in the past ten years as the island population has grown,” Evan said, gesturing to the room that looked out on the courtyard. “We’re overdue for an expansion but they haven’t found space for it in the budget. We’re doing well to get the equipment we need sometimes.”

“Sounds familiar,” Derek muttered. “They always want you to do a thousand-dollar job on a hundred-dollar budget.”

“It’s universal,” Evan said, shaking his head.

The kitchen was neat but showed some wear and tear. The chairs around a long table in the center didn’t all match. None of that mattered, though, Derek knew. Just the sight forced him to recall the camaraderie he’d been missing since leaving his own station. He’d bet anything the men here shared the same ties. That’s what happened when you faced danger together. No matter how much you tried to explain to an outsider what you went through, no one would ever get it like another firefighter did.

Farther down the hall, in the fitness room, another two guys were working out, and Derek did a mental inventory of all their equipment. That was another thing he missed—having more than just his weight machine to stay in shape.

The next door led to a darkened conference and training room with a table, video screen and other electronics. Standard fare.

“Bunks are this way,” Evan said, leading him back toward the kitchen and down a separate hallway. “Two beds per room. The john’s at the end of the hall.”

Derek spotted the two restroom doors. “You have any women in the department?” he asked.

“Not a one. Never have. I’m sure it won’t be long, though.”

“How many alarms does your department run?”

“Not nearly as many as Dallas. We have about eighty or ninety per month. Goes up seven hundred percent in March.”

“Must be one hell of a month.”

“Guys fight over taking vacations in April and May if that tells you anything.”

They wandered outside through the garage, Burnaby alongside. Evan told Derek about a few of the stranger spring-break calls they’d had in the past few years, and they talked firefighting for a few more minutes.

“Suppose I better get the dog back home to settle down for the night,” Derek said finally.

“Before you go,” Evan said, his tone becoming more personal, “best of luck to you with Macey.”

His words stopped Derek short. “We aren’t together,” he clarified, bending to adjust Burnaby’s collar, even though it didn’t need adjusting.

“She cares about you, man.”

“Yeah. We’ve been friends since grade school. Grew up together.” He tested the leash to make sure it was secure.

Evan nodded. “Goes beyond that, though.”

“Nah. Just friends.”

“Maybe, but she’d like more.”

What was up with this guy? “You’re the one she went out with.”

He laughed. “Let’s just say that was a dead end. Macey’s great, don’t get me wrong. But I’m not her kind of guy. I get the feeling she’s looking for something a little more serious than I could give her.”

Derek tended to agree. “She’s not a casual dater. Never has been.”

“That may be, but I think it’s more a case of her having her eye on you.”

Derek didn’t stop to consider it. There was no point. “I’m not in any state to give her what she wants, either. That’s one thing you and I have in common.”

“I understand. Just wanted you to know I was stepping aside in case you’re interested in her.”

“Good to know.” Derek shook the other man’s hand. “Thanks for the tour.”

“See you around.”

Derek and Burnaby strolled back out to the beach toward home.

Interested in Macey.
Not the words he would’ve chosen. Cared a great deal about her, yes. Turned on by her, hell yeah. Considering his long-term potential or lack thereof, though, any interest he had was pointless.

She’d actually tried to go to bed early after a long, busy shift at the bar, but Derek hadn’t let her. Not in a technical sense; she hadn’t heard a single word from him after she’d left his condo yesterday morning. Naively, she’d thought for sure he would come into work during her shift to apologize for the way he’d blown her off.

Stretched out in bed, she’d alternated between heated anger at the way he’d dismissed her yesterday morning, and memories of lying in his arms the night before, which induced heat of an entirely different kind. A half hour of tossing, turning and trying to shut out all thoughts of him had been her limit. She’d dragged her laptop to bed and set to work.

She was driving to the bar today because she’d slept in and ended up rushing around to get ready on time. Her shift was noon to nine, and she knew Derek would be there for most of it, as he’d opened this morning. Strangely, his truck wasn’t in its usual spot outside the bar. Macey pulled up and took his place, wondering if he was MIA again. While she didn’t want anything bad to happen to him, a reprieve from working side by side for several hours would be welcome.

Welcome but not going to happen.

Burnaby was lying in the shade of the building just outside the door. Macey bent to rub his belly. She spotted Derek wiping down the bar before she even set foot inside the homey shack with the faint beer aroma. Her clueless heart sped up, seemingly only capable of recalling how they’d spent the night together and not how he’d acted afterward. Her mind was much more ready to face the facts, though.

She braced herself to be as indifferent as possible toward him and yet friendly enough that he wouldn’t figure out how much he’d hurt her.

As if they were just coworkers.

“Afternoon,” she said as he joined her behind the bar.

“Hey.” He didn’t look at her and she bit her tongue to keep from saying more.

Andie was at the grill, cooking up three or four orders, and after clocking in, Macey stepped up to the counter to wait on people in the line that had suddenly formed at the register.

Two hours and about two hundred customers later, Derek and Macey had exchanged a grand total of approximately four sentences. All work related. And that was fine with her—or at least she tried to tell herself it was.

Andie wandered out of the back room to refill her drink. Derek was straightening the liquor bottles on the shelves while Macey wiped down the main counter and joked with some of the customers sitting at the bar.

“Derek,” Andie said. “We’re out of tomatoes and almost out of lettuce. You need to run to the store.”

He shot her a look. “If I’m the boss, shouldn’t I be giving out the orders instead of taking them from you?”

Andie shrugged. “If that makes you feel better. But we need veggies. Stat.”

Normally Macey would’ve volunteered to run the errand, but it turned out she didn’t feel like being helpful today. She focused on scrubbing some dried ketchup off the counter. She could sense Derek staring at her back, but she didn’t give in.

“Guess I’ll go get the veggies,” he said finally.

Macey ignored him and he left without another word.

“Thank God he’s gone,” Andie said. “What is with the two of you?”

“What do you mean?” Macey asked, throwing the towel in a tub of hot soapy water on the floor.

“Something happened between you guys again. You’re making me crazy.”

Macey had tried to act unaffected by Derek, if a little less talkative than usual. She gladly stepped up to the counter as a sunburned man ordered a drink. Andie leaned on the doorjamb watching her, waiting until she’d drawn the guy’s beer and taken his money.

“You going to tell me?”

Macey turned and met Andie’s gaze. “You’re not usually one to butt in and demand details about other people’s lives. What’s going on?”

“Are you kidding? I’ve watched for several weeks while you two dance around your feelings and act like there’s a sane reason you haven’t jumped into bed together. I want you to get it over with already. Put the rest of us out of our misery.”

Macey glanced around. Fortunately, everyone seemed to be involved in their own conversations.

“If I told you we slept together, would you leave it alone?”

“What?” Andie’s eyes widened and then she smiled smugly. “I knew it. Congrats.”

“We
slept
together. As in slumbered. Side by side. Nothing else happened.”

“You shared a bed and nothing happened? Is he dead?”

“Unfortunately, I think so.”

“What happened?”

Macey assured herself there was no one waiting for a drink or a burger, then moved closer and told Andie the gist of her night at Derek’s condo.

“So now he’s barely talking to you.” Andie frowned.

“He’s acting like
I
should apologize. I’m trying to pretend I’m not ready to strangle him. He wants to make me mad. Wants me to leave him alone. But I won’t do that.”

Andie took a sip and beckoned Macey back into the kitchen. She scooped chips and cheese sauce into a card board container and put it on the counter between them.

“You’re getting to him.”

“I’m lucky he hasn’t fired me yet.”

“You need to seduce him.”

Macey nearly choked on the chip she’d just shoved into her mouth. “About like I need to go lie down in the middle of interstate traffic in Dallas.”

“Maybe if you got it over with, things could go back to normal between you two.”

“You forget that Derek’s not his normal self. With good reason. There
is
no normal between us anymore.” Macey had to struggle not to think too hard about Andie’s suggestion, not to give it any life at all in her mind, be cause if she did, it would taunt her all night.

Andie dug a jalapeño pepper out of the refrigerated tub and stacked it on her cheese-drenched chip. “So what are you going to do?”

Macey swirled a chip in the cheese, pondering the question she’d been asking herself since she’d gotten here. “I’m going to jump him.”

Seeing Andie’s pretty brown eyes bulge out of her head was worth the fib.

“Or more likely option B—just let him be for a couple days and then get back to being nice and forgiving,” Macey said. “I’m leaving in a little over a week. I can’t take off with him still just as messed up as he was when I got here.”

“He’s not.”

“You don’t think so?”

“Before you got here, I’d never seen him laugh. Not sure he’d even smiled. And now you’ve got him taking care of a dog.”

Macey grinned, feeling as if Burnaby
had
been a victory. Maybe the only one, but she’d take it.

“You’ve definitely been good for him, Macey.”

Right now, she felt she’d been anything
but
good for Derek. And time was a-ticking.