Tammy snorted. “Of course, he hit on her. He’s Cody. He hits on you and Avery all the time—even though you’re with his friends.”
“He does that just to irritate Wyatt and Dawson,” Fiona said.
“He does it because he can’t help but flirt with any female with a pulse,” Tammy said.
Tammy would understand that behavior; she had a reputation of being quite the flirt herself. Serena suspected this was because of Tammy’s awkward teens. Now that she’d lost the weight and cleared up her complexion, their brunette friend enjoyed male attention. But with Tammy it was mostly just flirting. Apparently Cody did more than just flirt.
Serena chuckled. “So you’re saying I shouldn’t take his attention personally? He’s going to hit on Mrs. Gulliver too? She is pretty cute.”
Tammy smiled. “Don’t you love the pink streaks I put in her hair?”
“She loves them, too,” Serena assured the stylist. “She’s been talking about adding some purple ones.”
Tammy clapped her hands together. “That’s great. She’s eighty-six and open to change. When are you going to let me change your hair?”
Serena shrugged. “I don’t have time.”
But she actually kept it long and straight, because it reminded her of how her mother always wore her hair.
“Exactly,” Tammy said. “You’re too busy to deal with all that hair. Let me cut it off for you.”
“Hell no!” a deep voice exclaimed. Cody rushed into the kitchen as if ready to throw himself between Serena and a pair of scissors. “That would be a crime.”
Wyatt sauntered in behind his friend. “You’re a firefighter, not a cop,” he reminded Cody. Then he pulled his fiancée into his arms and planted a big kiss on her—as if he hadn’t seen her in days, instead of hours.
Serena felt that pang of jealousy again; she was envious of her friend. She wanted that kind of love—that kind of connection.
Cody was here. Staying in the same house. And he apparently liked her hair. But he wasn’t looking for love. Even without her friends’ warnings, she would have recognized that.
“Cutting hair is not a crime,” Tammy said.
“Cutting her hair would be,” he insisted. And he reached out as if to finger one of the long strands. But he caught himself and pulled his hand back to his side.
Serena’s face heated with embarrassment that she and her hair had become the topic of conversation. “What I decide to do about my hair is unimportant,” she said. “Have you learned anything more about the arsonist?”
Hopefully they’d caught him. She couldn’t get over how close she had come to losing her home in the last big fire. She gazed around the kitchen at the cabinets she and Mama had stripped and re-stained a rich chocolate color, several shades lighter than the oak floor they’d also refinished. There was no part of the house—structure, contents or residents—that Serena and her mother hadn’t cared for.
“Yes,” Fiona chimed in, “do you have any leads yet?”
Wyatt sighed and shook his head.
And Cody clenched his jaw so tightly a muscle twitched in his cheek. They were clearly troubled that they hadn’t caught the guy yet.
Serena’s nurturing instincts—inherited from Mama—kicked in and she turned toward the refrigerator. “I saved you some dinner,” she said. “There’s enough for everyone.” She pulled out the fried chicken and potato salad she’d made earlier.
Fiona groaned. “If I didn’t have an appointment to try on wedding gowns, I’d take you up on that offer. But I need to watch what I’m eating.”
“No, you don’t,” Wyatt said as his hand slid over the curve of his fiancée’s hip. “You’re perfect just as you are.”
The envy kicked in again. But she couldn’t be jealous of her friend. Fiona deserved her happiness.
Tammy emitted a wistful sigh. “You two make me sick.” It was clear she wanted what they had, too.
Cody was the only one who didn’t seem envious. His focus was on the chicken instead. He pulled a leg from the bowl she’d set on the counter. But he looked at her as he bit through the crispy coating. Then he moaned with pleasure.
That moan had her stomach muscles clenching in reaction.
“I can heat it up,” she offered.
He shook his head. “It’s perfect just as it is.”
Somehow she didn’t think they were talking about the chicken anymore. But before he could clarify, other boarders entered the kitchen. Mr. Stehouwer hobbled into the room with his walker. With a big grin, he greeted all the young people. Stanley bounded in with Annie—both bustling with energy.
She was going to have a time keeping that dog out of the house. But she loved the kitchen being as full of people as it had been when her grandmother had been alive, when she’d had so much family living there.
She wanted to fill it with family again. She had to find a way to hang on to the house.
She wasn’t going to find the answer in the wicked glint in Cody’s green eyes. Even though the rent he paid for himself and for Stanley would fix the air-conditioning unit, it wasn’t enough. She had to find a way to pay off that lawsuit and keep her family legacy.
FOR THE PAST HOUR Cody had watched Serena charm and entertain everyone in her home. Everyone but him. Besides feeding him leftovers, she had pretty much ignored him. He wasn’t used to women ignoring him unless they had fallen for one of his friends instead. But other women—single women—went out of their way to flirt with him and get his attention. Not that he gave them much.
During his couple of years as a Hotshot, he’d learned that significant others didn’t last in this profession. The divorce rate was high among Hotshots because of all the time they spent away from home. So there was no point in his getting involved with anyone. He had to stay single.
Maybe Serena wasn’t single. Sure, she wasn’t wearing a ring, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t involved with someone. But hadn’t Wyatt said something about her being too busy with the boardinghouse to socialize much? Had he been talking about her friendships or romantic relationships?
Cody was curious about her. More than he should be. Sure, Dawson had offered Cody his place. But the US Forest Service cabin didn’t come with the fried chicken he’d just eaten. Or the creamy potato salad or homemade rolls.
Alone now in one of the second-floor bathrooms, he pulled off his shirt and patted his stomach. He had eaten too much. But he was still hungry. Not for food, but for the woman who’d cooked it.
She was beautiful—even more so when she had been so animated with her other boarders and guests. She’d joked and laughed and she’d even flirted a little bit—with everyone but him. He’d gotten a little irritated then, maybe even jealous.
No. He wasn’t the jealous type. That was probably just indigestion from overeating. Although he worked out as strenuously as the other guys on the team, he wasn’t as careful about what he ate. That might have to change if he lived with Serena for very long. He reached for the button on his jeans and pulled it free. His jeans were tight—not because of what he’d eaten, but because he couldn’t stop thinking about Serena.
About that ice cube sliding down her throat to disappear between her full breasts. About what she would look like wearing nothing at all.
His cock was hard and