“Kev here had his eyes on the road, so I’m the one you should be asking,” Tony added. “Barely even felt it when the bumper tore off that door and dropped it right in front of the car. Like roadkill. Glass shattered to hell.” He paused and swigged his beer. “Great story for the Wall of Flame. Hope one of the hundreds of tourists who witnessed it got it on video. Maybe they’ll put it on social media.”
Kevin cringed. The Wall of Flame was likely to be misunderstood by normal people. People who were not in the business of responding to accidents, digging through gutted houses for the cause of the fire, and facing some of the truly lousy things that happen to people. Every day. The Wall of Flame was just a bulletin board with an attached shelf. It hung in the bunk room at the station, where they posted newspaper clippings, photographs, thank-you notes and the occasional artifact. It was a daily reminder of what they did, but its goofiness took the edge off the seriousness of the job. Department humor. It meant survival in a tough field.
Currently the wall had a picture of one of the lieutenants swearing in the newest firefighter, but the lower half of the new recruit’s body was a chubby baby wearing a diaper. A picture printed from the internet of Smokey Bear lighting a fat cigar was stapled in the upper corner. A before-and-after photo of the chief as a young recruit with hair, and the current bald version was tacked up next to a colorful photo of a training fire. The house was destroyed by fire on purpose, but the large caption drawn in marker said it all: Oops.
“This is not going on the Wall of Flame,” Kevin grumbled.
“My cousin drives the tow truck,” Ethan said. “He saved the side mirror of the door you took off. We’ll put it in the Stupid Tourist section of the board.”
Kevin groaned and shook his head.
Rick left his bar stool next to Kevin and headed for the restroom in the back of the restaurant. A gorgeous blonde slid onto the stool, an empty glass of wine in her hand. There was something oddly familiar about her.
“Moscato,” she said to the bartender, handing over the empty glass.
She swiveled and faced Kevin, her eyes the color of new plants in spring. He froze. There was definitely something about her.
She had the full attention of the men assembled at the bar, but she was only looking at Kevin.
“I’m Nicole Wheeler,” she said.
Could this be happening? Other guys attracted women, even used their badges and uniforms to negotiate themselves into a night in bed. But Kevin’s last girlfriend took off eighteen months ago, leaving him an ancient dog and no apologies.
Maybe his luck was changing.
“Kevin Ruggles,” he said. “You must be new in town. I’d remember you if we’d met before.”
“I’m definitely new. Just arrived this afternoon, in fact.”
Something in her tone signaled a warning, but Kevin forged ahead. She was sitting next to him at the bar, waiting for a drink. He should offer to buy. She was beautiful. Her fingers tapped on the bar, with no wedding ring in sight. What could go wrong?
“I’d like to personally welcome you to Cape Pursuit,” he said.
Her lips formed a cold line. “You already did.”
“Uh-oh,” Tony said.
Silence replaced the friendly banter at the bar. Kevin’s comrades in arms were sharks, waiting for blood they sensed was coming.
The bartender popped a cork and filled Nicole’s empty glass, taking his time. He stood still, also waiting.
Kevin felt heat rise up his neck and set his ears on fire. He had a better chance escaping a burning building alive than surviving the next thirty seconds.
He remembered. It was only a glance in the side mirror of the truck. A blonde woman standing in the street staring at the wreckage of her car. The wreckage he had caused.
“You don’t happen to own a small red car,” he said slowly. “Do you?”
“I do.” She sipped her wine, never taking her eyes off his.
“And...I almost hate to ask...but...is it missing a part? Maybe a door?”
“It is.”
The silence was how Kevin pictured people waiting tensely in the eye of a hurricane. Hunkered down, knowing the worst was coming, thinking perhaps they should have evacuated when they’d had the chance.
Where is that kitchen fire?
“I’d also like my mirror back,” she said, directing her words to Ethan. “So don’t bother to add it to your asinine tourist museum.”
She picked up her wine glass and returned to her table, only ten feet from the bar and easily within earshot. Close enough to make everyone uncomfortable.
Kevin sat on his bar stool like someone had soaked his pants in superglue. Even if she’d given him the chance to explain, what would he have said? Sorry, lady, but your car was in the way. Life over property.
But she had no use for him or his explanations. She’d made that clear.
* * *
JANE SMILED AND waved at the firefighters now silently holding on to their beer bottles as if they were lifelines.
She leaned forward and whispered to Nicole. “I think you ruined Testosterone Night.”
“I’ll cry myself to sleep tonight,” Nicole said quietly. “I know they’re your friends, but I just couldn’t sit here and listen to their bravado.”
“Don’t blame you a bit. They’ll live.” Jane grinned. “It’s good for them to get a reminder once in a while that not every female on earth finds them irresistible.”
Nicole regarded her friend, one eyebrow raised. “Have you ever dated any of them?”
“Not officially. I briefly dated a cop who left for the bigger department in Virginia Beach. Also dated a firefighter who was only here for the summer. Somehow I got little sister status with that group, so dating is off the table. Maybe I know too much about them.”
“Nothing going on between you and Charlie?”
Jane blew out a breath and sat back, crossing her arms. “Nothing I want to burden you with tonight. It’s a...well...it’s a story.”
Their burgers arrived, covered in barbecue sauce, cheese and bacon as promised. “To new beginnings,” Nicole said, clinking her nearly empty wine glass against Jane’s orange soda.
“Benvenuto,” Jane said, laughing. “See, I learned something in that Italian class we took when we were juniors.”
While they ate, the firefighters at the bar moved to a corner table closer to a flat-screen television. The baseball game was on, and the noise of the game and the bar patrons covered their conversation. Twice, Nicole’s glance strayed to the table in the corner. Both times Kevin was looking at her.
“I’m hoping you can do something about my computer now that you’re here. I think I need a new system,” Jane said. “Maybe I should put everything in the cloud.”
“I’ll look at it. You mostly place online orders for supplies, track expenses and print receipts for purchases, right?”
“Yes,” Jane said, nodding.
“And you don’t have any employees?”
“Nope. Just you.”
“Are you sure you actually need me?”
“I definitely do.”
When Jane had asked Nicole to move to Cape Pursuit, the timing had seemed too perfect.