Never Too Hot (Hot Shots: Men of Fire #3)(10)
Author: Bella Andre

Going back into the kitchen, she gave Isabel the order, then said “I need to get some air,” and walked out the back door into the parking lot.

The sun had set and in the darkness Ginger looked up at the thick clouds that were blanketing the sky while wind whipped her ponytail against her face.

A storm would be hitting soon.

Tonight.

Normally, Ginger loved the changing weather. She got such a thrill every time she watched the crashing thunder duel with the lightning while she sat safe and cozy beneath a thick blanket on the screened porch.

But she didn’t feel safe anymore.

All these months she’d thought she was so perfectly settled. That Blue Mountain Lake was an impenetrable retreat. She’d told herself nothing could rock her again, that she was steady now, that she was the one in control.

Had she been living a fantasy?

And yet, thinking of Connor sitting at the counter waiting for her to come back with his food sent a shiver of sudden anticipation running through her. Almost as if some secret part of her, deep inside, was hoping for trouble.

For something to shake up her lakeside idyll.

Which was crazy. She was perfectly happy. Of course she wasn’t looking for anything — or anyone — to shake things up.

But if that was totally true, she had to wonder, then why was she buzzing head to toe at the thought of Connor sleeping under her roof?

He wanted her.

The moment he walked into the diner and saw Ginger standing behind the counter, desire had hit Connor square in the groin. And all the while they were talking, while he’d been hammering on her about getting into Poplar Cove, sex had been running a constant current between them.

She’d changed out of the skimpy tank and shorts combo she’d had on earlier, but the fitted white shirt and black pants weren’t too bad either, managing to nicely highlight her ample br**sts. The half-mirrored walls gave him a good opportunity to appreciate the curve of her hips, the slight bounce of her br**sts as she sparred with him.

Not only was Ginger his perfect type, lush and soft and sure to be wild in bed, but she was clearly smart too.

Tough. He couldn’t stop himself from appreciating — despite his irritation at having to work for it — how quick she was to cut his attempt at charm off at the pass, when any other woman would have folded at his initial apology.

And then there was the way she’d responded to his scars, the fact that she experienced some of the hell he’d lived through personally.

No one knew how much his hands still bothered him. No one had the guts to ask him outright if they hurt. He’d been surprised enough by her question to answer.

And afterward, he’d actually been disappointed when their conversation had ended and she’d gone back into the kitchen.

Since puberty he’d had plenty of experience with lust, but rarely had any of his attractions gone beyond the superficial, beyond the bedroom.

Fuck. He couldn’t afford any distractions from his ultimate goals for the summer: continuing his intense training regimen so that he would be in peak physical condition for his upcoming Forest Service reinstatement, first, and fixing up Poplar Cove for the wedding, second.

There was no room for third.

He took a twenty out of his wallet and threw it down on the counter, then got the hell out of the diner.

Chapter Four

ALL NIGHT, Isabel had thought there was something not quite right with Ginger. She hadn’t been able to put her finger on it exactly. Just that she looked different. Brighter, somehow. But also, unsettled.

Eight months ago, when Isabel first met Ginger, she’d had the same impression — that Ginger was a woman in dire need of calm. Living on Blue Mountain Lake had clearly done wonders for Ginger’s nerves, just as it did for most people who settled in long enough to slow down to the pace of local life. So, then, what on earth could have happened to Ginger to send her back to that unsettled place?

Telling Scott, her fry cook, to man the stove for a minute, Isabel headed out after Ginger.

“What’s wrong?”

Ginger shoved the curly hair that had escaped her ponytail back from her face. “I had an unexpected visitor this afternoon.”

Unexpected visitors were rather common in a place as beautiful as Blue Mountain Lake. Friends from the city who’d decided to drop by for a couple of days and relatives looking for a private beach to park their kids while they raided the liquor cabinet were par for the course. But Ginger wouldn’t be looking so worried if a gaggle of girlfriends had descended on her.

“Who? Don’t tell me your ex came all the way out here?”

Ginger had told her all about her marriage to Jeremy, that her relationship had fizzled out pretty much right after her new husband slid the wedding ring onto her left hand. And even though Ginger said they were both to blame for it not working out, Isabel had painted a fairly vivid picture in her head of the ex-husband as a self-obsessed bully who had once masqueraded — very briefly — as Mr. Right. She didn’t have a much better image of Ginger’s parents.

Ginger made a face. “No. Jeremy wouldn’t come all the way out here to see me. From what I’ve heard he’s already moved on to a tiny little brunette with a button nose and hollow cheekbones. And my mother would absolutely lose it out here with all the bugs, so no chance of that.”

And yet, Isabel noted, Ginger’s cheeks were growing more flushed in the empty space between sentences.

“His name is Connor. Connor MacKenzie. His grandparents own Poplar Cove. He thought he was going to be moving in today. Until he found me on the porch. He’s here now, in the diner. Sitting at the counter.”

Isabel heard her own sudden intake of breath and had to ask herself why it felt like her world had just been rocked, why she was reaching for the hood of the nearest car with a death grip.

So one of the grandkids next door was in town for a visit. So what?

“Do you know why Connor came back to the lake?”

“He wants to fix up the cabin for his brother’s wedding.”

Isabel felt the rock sink deeper into her gut. Weddings meant family. Mothers.

And fathers.

“When’s the wedding?”

“July thirty-first.”

Four weeks away. Long enough, Isabel reckoned, to get a new haircut. No, a complete makeover. To make sure she blew Andrew away when she saw him.

If she saw him.

God, what was wrong with her? She hadn’t seen Connor’s father in thirty years. Ancient history. She had a full, wonderful life; a thriving business, lots of friends, and a great son.

“Connor told me the house is unsafe. That it’s a fire hazard and he needs to work on it. But even though he’s probably right, I’m freaking out about having a guy all up in my space. Especially him.”