“Maybe, but I don’t have the equipment to provide you with the happiness Trent can, do I?” Kate winked.
Izzy sniffed. “Don’t bother going along that route. I offered him sex last night and he refused me. Do you know how humiliating that is? Trent could’ve had me and he didn’t take me. Fact.”
Kate’s eyes widened. “You offered him sex?”
“Yes. Temporary insanity, I guess.”
“You do know why he turned you down, right? The man wants a full-on relationship with you. Do you know how different that makes him than the fifty other guys who could be there for you?” Shaking her head, Kate stood and walked to the wine rack. She selected a bottle of red and grabbed two glasses from the cupboard. “Trent Palmer turning you down is huge. I honestly believe he has a serious thing for you.” She carried the wine and glasses to the table and unscrewed the bottle. “More important, I think you have a serious thing for him too.”
“I do not.”
“You’re lying.”
“Are you going to pour that wine or not?”
Kate filled the glasses and nudged one toward Izzy. “There, careful you don’t choke on it.”
Izzy narrowed her gaze and took a hefty gulp. “Cheers.”
Kate grinned and sat, lifting her glass to her lips. “I say you call Trent right now and ask him out. He’s probably beaten himself black and blue by now for not taking you up on your offer. He’ll be putty in your hands.”
“Trent would never be putty in anyone’s hands. Anyway, he’s dangerous.”
“Dangerous?”
“Yes.” Izzy took another sip of wine, her stomach knotting with trepidation of her oncoming admission. “He makes me weak. He makes me want things that are stupid.”
“What things? Fun? Romance? Great sex?”
“He doesn’t want sex. Remember?”
Kate sniffed. “Of course he wants sex. All men want sex.”
“Not Trent.”
“Oh, come on, Iz. He wants you to want him all the time. He’s not doing anything different than you or I would under the same circumstances. He respects you.”
“I don’t think so.”
Kate rolled her eyes. “Before Robbie died, did you ever offer Trent a one-night stand? No. You went on a date. No sex. You went on a second date. No sex. Then a third date...” She winked. “And maybe some sex. Or was it the fourth?”
Izzy narrowed her eyes.
Kate laughed. “Whatever. All I know is Trent’s being damn smart and going straight after your heart. He’s an intelligent man.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
Kate grinned. “And true.”
Panic thundered through Izzy’s body. How long could she keep denying her true feelings for Trent? Feelings that had been there for so long she’d eventually given in and opened herself up to potential heartbreak.
Trent lived his life at such a faster pace than she did. She would never be able to keep up. What was the point in risking the loss of their friendship on top of a broken heart? She drew in a shaky breath. “Maybe Trent’s refusing sex because he thinks he’s a bad lay. Let’s just focus on that thought and forget everything else you just said.”
Kate quirked an eyebrow. “I saw you after you and him got down and dirty, remember? No woman walks around looking like you did after a bad lay.”
Izzy rolled her eyes. “Can we just change the subject?”
“Fine.”
“What about this calendar and Maya Jackson? How are things going with the preparations for the charity?”
“Ooh, I’ve got something to show you.” Kate stood and rushed from the kitchen, her bare feet slapping against the hardwood flooring in the hallway. “Be just a second.”
Izzy stared after her and took another fortifying sip of wine. Whenever Kate was excited, further trouble lingered on the horizon. Izzy’s friend’s footsteps sounded overhead before Kate came thundering downstairs and into the kitchen.
She stuck a business card in front of Izzy’s face. “You need to ring this guy. He’s an agent.”
Izzy put down her wine and took the card. She lifted an eyebrow. “Francis Sanford. He sounds like a member of the aristocracy.”
“He’s Richard Crawley’s agent.”
Izzy frowned. “Who?”
Kate rolled her eyes. “Richard Crawley. The hottest game show host right now. Better than that, Templeton is his hometown. I called his office and they directed me to his agent. They want to meet you.”
“Why? What do I want with a game show host? What do you want with a game show host?”
“Richard Crawley is good-looking, smiley and happy. I’ve spent the last fortnight looking for a front man or woman for the calendar. If I could get someone in the media to back our campaign...”
“All the better for Maya.”
“Exactly. Richard Crawley was my breakthrough. He wants to meet you before he agrees to help out, but he’s the biggest name I’ve managed to nail down. If we get him on the cover with Templeton’s finest firefighters, it’s a done deal. Maya will be on her way across the pond for her treatment.” She winked. “Of course, it would be even better if you could convince him to lose his shirt midshoot.”
Izzy laughed. “Right. Now I see where we’re going.”
“So you’ll call his agent and set something up?”
“Sure.” Izzy shifted forward and slid the card into the back pocket of her jeans. “Anything for Maya. You know that.”
Kate released a breath. “Good. So...back to Trent. Are you going to make me completely happy and call him too?”
Izzy groaned and snatched up her wine. “It’s a bad idea.”
“But one you need to act on anyway.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you do. You have to. You and Trent are meant to be. I know it.”
Izzy frowned, the determination in her friend’s eyes making her uneasy. “No one knows that, including you. I’m not calling him.”
Kate dropped her shoulders. “Fine. Then will you at least start focusing on the future? Stop looking back. Robbie’s gone and Lord only knows when your mum and dad will decide they’re too old to be touring the world on a cruise ship. Can’t you just start accepting what an amazing woman, friend and photographer you are? You have the potential to be a huge name. Please, just focus on that.”
Izzy exhaled. Try as she might, she had a hard time believing anything Kate so vehemently believed of her. “I’m trying, okay?”
“Good. Then try harder.”
TRENT BURST THROUGH the Coast Inn doors ahead of his firefighting colleagues. He strode tall and proud through the bar, having earlier saved a family of four from a burning building. Satisfaction heated his blood, and need gathered strength for an ice-cold beer, a few games of pool and some great tunes coming from the TV rigged above the table.
Despite a shower, change of clothes and a passing hour, the lingering smell of smoke still coated the inside of his nostrils and parched his throat. He strode