The Firefighter's Thanksgiving Wish Page 12

  “Right.” Kendall’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes when Frankie looked at her.

  Frankie looked down at the smattering of crayon sketches, the flowers and butterflies bursting at odd angles out of the grass. “This is beautiful, Phoebe. Thank you.”

  “Did it work?” Phoebe grabbed the hem of Frankie’s shirt and hopped up and down. “Are you happy now?”

  Frankie leaned down and gave her a hug. “I’m very happy now. You know what? How about you take this inside and find a place for it on my desk where I can see it every day.”

  “Cool! Be right back, Mom!”

  “I’ll be right here,” Kendall said with a laugh.

  “She’s come a long way,” Frankie said once Phoebe was out of earshot. “You both have.”

  “We’re getting there.” Kendall’s smile brightened.

  Frankie had never pushed Kendall about her past, but she’d gleaned enough over the past year or so to know her friend’s fiancé had been killed in Afghanistan shortly before Kendall herself had nearly died in a roadside bombing incident. Kendall had closed herself off for a long time, until Hunter MacBride had turned up in Butterfly Harbor earlier this year with his recently orphaned niece in tow. The combination of the two of them had been too much for Kendall’s heart to withstand. Now the happy family lived on a swath of property close to where the Liberty Lighthouse and carriage house stood sentry on the high cliffs of the town.

  “Is everything okay?” Kendall’s question caught Frankie off guard.

  “Sure. Why?”

  Kendall pinned her with that eerily accurate assessing gaze of hers.

  “This morning, at the fire, you seemed a little off.”

  Guilt mingled with shame. “Did I?”

  “It must be difficult. Adjusting to a new boss you weren’t expecting.”

  “It has its moments,” Frankie admitted. “But I suppose when I break it all down, it’s just a job.” And it was about time she got over it. Except getting over it meant accepting Roman, and that she wasn’t ready to do just yet. Not when she couldn’t figure out where he fit into things.

  “I think we both know it’s more than a job for you, Frankie. But working with Roman today, and seeing how he was with Parker and the car, I got a better feel for him. He’s good. He cares. About everyone involved. He knows what he’s doing.”

  “Yeah.” And didn’t that just burn? “I know he does.”

  “He’s also not that bad on the eyes.”

  Frankie snort-laughed. “Since when do you have eyes for anyone other than that hunky author of a husband of yours?”

  “Since he seems quite interested in you.” Kendall grinned, and the sight of her friend, who had at one time dealt with depression issues, lifted her heart. “But I can always appreciate a good-looking man.”

  “He is not interested,” Frankie shot back even as her cheeks warmed.

  “I was watching him after the fire. Believe me, Frankie. He’s there if you want him.”

  “That’s ridiculous. I don’t. I can’t. He’s my boss. And I don’t date guys like him.” Ever.

  “Guys like who him?”

  “You know, guys.” She flexed her biceps. “And guys.” She held her hand high over her head. “Guys.”

  “Oh, you mean decent, gorgeous, dedicated to making the world a better place kind of guys. Yuck. What a turnoff. I can see why you went out with the pharmacist. What was his name? Cody? Dean?”

  “Phil,” Frankie admitted under her breath.

  “Phil the pharmacist?” Kendall laughed so hard she bent over. “I can’t even...stop it! You have to be kidding!”

  Frankie couldn’t help it. She laughed with her.

  “I’d say that card of yours brightened Frankie’s mood, Phoebe.”

  Frankie’s spine stiffened at the sound of Roman’s voice. She spun and took a step back at the sight of Roman carrying Phoebe in his arms, her arms linked around his neck. It wasn’t, Frankie realized, the picture-perfect image of him looking relaxed and content with the little girl—it was everything the image represented. And the images that conjured in her mind despite her efforts to block them from forming.

  “Right, why go for a guy like that?” Kendall whispered in her ear. “I can’t imagine what I was thinking.” She pointed at Phoebe. “You ready to go, kiddo?”

  “Can I come back for the tour?” Phoebe asked Roman before he set her down.

  “A private tour just for you and your friends,” Roman told her. “I’ll work out the details with your folks.”

  “Mom! We’re gonna get to ride in the fire truck! And he’s going to show us how to do first aid and help people. Isn’t that cool?”

  “That sounds very cool,” Kendall took Phoebe’s hand. “Thanks for the offer, Roman.”

  “Happy to do it. Happy Thanksgiving,” he called after them as they walked off. “What?” He asked when he caught Frankie watching him. “What’s that look for?”

  “What look?” she choked.

  “That look.” He took a step forward. She stepped back, tripped over the hose and nearly toppled to the ground. Roman caught her around the waist, righted her and brought her in close. “Careful. Wouldn’t want to break my captain.”

  “Your captain?” Why did she sound like Pete’s parrot, repeating everything he said? Her entire body tingled, especially the parts of her he was touching. This wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all. She blinked up at him, unable to stop looking at him, resisted temptation to reach up, touch his cheek and prove he was real. Something uncoiled inside her, something she’d kept tied up and tied down for fear of letting it loose. She planted a hand on his chest, ignoring the beating of his heart, which seemed as unsteady as hers. “So not safe.”

  “What’s not safe?” He didn’t seem in any hurry to release her, which meant it was up to her. To move away. Now. She curled her fingers into the fabric of his shirt. She definitely needed to move far, far away from him. Immediately.

  “Th-the hose,” she stammered. “I shouldn’t have left it out. I need to—”

  “Am I early?” Ozzy’s voice called out.

  Frankie yelped, finally pushing away from Roman, not wanting to think about the picture they’d made standing there, wrapped up in—wrapped around each other.

  She pushed her hands into her hair as if straightening it, despite it being pristinely caught in her ponytail. The smile that stretched across Roman’s face made her face burn even hotter. Darn it! He knew exactly what she’d been thinking. What she never allowed herself to think about when it came to good-looking, determined, kind, captivating men like him.

  Because men like Roman Salazar, no matter what promises they might make, never stayed.

  * * *

  ROMAN NOTED THAT the shift from Thanksgiving finery to Christmas zaniness seemed to happen in an instant. As if overnight, the pumpkins and leaf wreaths decorating the town were replaced with poinsettias, boughs of holly and pretend snow that glistened against the streaming sun. Frankie had decked the bare-leafed Japanese maple outside the station with an array of shimmering glass ornaments and tangles of tinsel. What she’d done on the inside of the station included a seven-foot fir covered in firefighter-themed ornaments she’d apparently been collecting since she was a kid.

  There was no real overall theme to Frankie’s decorating, and Roman would bet the entire sight could very well give Santa a cavity, but he had to admit, the unrestrained celebration of the season brought definite holiday cheer to the station. She hadn’t missed a thing, right down to the spicy scent of gingerbread baking for the kids’ open house they were having at the station later today.

  He had something else to be thankful for. The fire on Thanksgiving had broken the last of the tension between him and Frankie, but a new type had taken form. The type that left him wondering what would have happened if he’d kissed
her when she’d been silently asking him to.

  He hadn’t. And he shouldn’t—he couldn’t complicate an already complicated situation. He was her boss, and while the rules weren’t written in stone, it wasn’t good for anyone in a position of power to take even the slightest advantage of what he now believed was a mutual attraction.

  Attraction? Roman blew out a breath. That was the understatement of the century.

  Which meant he had to focus on the job. Thankfully, she seemed to be on the same page, and the two of them had slipped into something he considered companionable friendship. They still argued, especially over him wanting to change the way some calls were handled, but he found himself actually welcoming those times. There was little he found more appealing than Frankie in debate mode.

  It made him wonder if his time in Butterfly Harbor shouldn’t be extended.

  And that thought had sobered him instantly.

  Now that the holiday season had officially begun, it was only a matter of time before he needed to make some decisions regarding his potential employment with the federal fire investigative task force. Things were going pretty well here. He was content. Not necessarily happy, but...content. He could feel himself settling, and settled was not compatible with the future he had mapped out for himself, the promises he’d made both to himself and to his father. Not that there was any hiring going on this time of year. He had a few weeks to think on it some more, but in the meantime, he could address a few issues right here in Butterfly Harbor.

  The first weekend in December, he’d organized a group to head out to where he and Frankie had rescued Parker and his grandfather, and they made quick work of cutting back the shrubs and limbs. Until actual funds for a railing could be obtained, they used crime-scene tape to denote areas of danger. He’d been impressed, although he shouldn’t have been given the tight-knit community, at how many people, men, women, even kids had turned up to help. He planned on doing the same with other town projects once a month for the foreseeable future. The calls tapered off and after a few more battles with Frankie over the Cocoon Club and their odd requests, he let her roll with them. For now.

  But how he appreciated the down days.

  With Frankie occupied with Jasper, Roman grabbed a crowbar and headed outside and across the street to the long-empty house that had been calling to him since he’d first arrived in town. It took more effort than expected to kick through the dead brush and weeds, but he soon had the boards blocking the front door popping off and dropping to the ground.

  The doorknob was rusted and creaked when he turned it. It was as if the door had forgotten how to operate, and it took Roman actually shoving it open to be able to step inside. He stood there, hand wrapped around the door frame, the wood rough against his fingers.

  The spacious room that greeted him was covered in sturdy knotted floorboards and accented with a large brick fireplace along the far wall. The smattering of windows were still boarded up, but there was enough light from the open door and the slats in the wood for him to get the layout of the place. It was definitely in need of some TLC. The first bedroom was small but comfortable and had its own pass-through to a bathroom. He found a larger master suite at the end of the hall and an enormous bonus room—space that could easily be broken up to allow for a small office. Lots of windows. Lots of natural light. He looked up, considered skylights or maybe solar panels. His mind started ringing like a cash register. Boy, it would cost. But it could be worth it.

  The floor creaked under his feet, but as he prowled the house, he found himself falling in serious like with the place. There was a lot of potential here. It would take a ton of work. More than he’d expected, but yeah. He stood at the sliding glass doors looking out at what at one time must have been a lovely view of the more rustic, forested areas of town. What had the plans been for this place? he wondered.

  “What are you doing in here?”

  He’d gotten used to Frankie popping up at unexpected times. “Did we get a call?”

  “No.” Her arms were folded across her chest, and she was holding herself so still she looked as if she’d turned to stone. “I was getting some fresh air and saw the door was open.”

  “Been wanting to look at this place since I got here. It’s got great bones.”

  She didn’t respond, and as she drew her gaze around the room, he swore he saw a shimmer of tears in her eyes.

  “Is there something wrong?” Had he stepped in it again?

  “I just, I haven’t been in here in a really long time. Do you mind if we—” She gestured to the front of the house before she spun around and left.

  He found her outside, rocking back and forth on her heels. “What is it, Frankie?”

  “It’s nothing. Stupid, really.” She swiped a quick hand over her cheeks. “All these years you’d think it wouldn’t matter. This was my dad’s dream project. The Chief’s House, he called it.” Her lips trembled as she forced them into a smile. “He was always going to get to it next week, next month. Then there weren’t any of either left. Monty and I have never known what to do with or about it. Can’t bring ourselves to sell it, not that anyone would buy it. He used to tease me and Monty that it would be his escape from us because we were such terrors.”

  “Were you? Terrors?”

  “Oh, I was, for sure.” Frankie laughed. “Monty? Not so much. He’s always been the calm one, like the ocean on a perfect summer day.”

  “While you were the tumultuous depths?”

  “Let’s just say I had a bit more fire than my brother. I was arrested once, you know.”

  “Were you?” He smiled at the pride in her voice. What was it about this woman that fascinated him? Every day there were new revelations, new mysteries to solve. And nothing about Frankie was boring. Absolutely nothing.

  “You sound almost impressed.”

  Roman considered that for a moment. “It’ll depend on what the charges were.”

  “Breaking and entering. Trespassing and theft.” She seemed to enjoy the shock he was certain passed over his face. “Old Mr. Walters had this menagerie of pets. Like, his own personal zoo. There was this mangy old black cat. Mean as a snake with most people, but it liked me. Probably because I fed it more than Mr. Walters ever did. I heard it howling one night. I knew he was out, so I crawled into his house through the doggie door and rescued it. Along with three hamsters, an arthritic pug, a hedgehog and two multilingual cockatoos.” She grinned before she ducked her chin. “Cages and all.”

  “How did you get cages through—”

  “The doggie door? Yeah. I didn’t think that through. I went right out the front door. Multiple trips, set the animals up in our basement while everyone in the house was asleep. The neighbor across the street, however, was not asleep. I was clearly not meant to be a master criminal. She ratted me out to Jake the next morning.”

  Jake meaning Jake Gordon, the former sheriff, Roman assumed. “How old were you?”

  “Fifteen? It was the summer before...” Her voice broke. “Well, I was fifteen. I actually tried to insist on my innocence. I almost had Jake convinced. Almost. Then one of those cockatoos screeched, and that was the end of that. My six hours in the town jail cell were as much time as I ever wanted to serve.”

  “How did it get resolved?”

  “I told them I’d plead guilty to everything if they called animal control and put the animals where they’d be safe. They were in terrible shape. Fleas, malnourished. So unhappy. Jake and my dad pulled some strings and got the vet in town to examine the animals. Doc Collins—that’s Dr. Selena Collins’s father—sided with me, said I’d probably saved their lives and recommended I do my punishment volunteering at his animal clinic.” She lifted her head. “Once it was all settled, Dad told me that if I ever did anything like that again, he’d make it near impossible for me to ever train as a firefighter.”

  “Worst punishment
possible, I assume?” The more he heard about Tybalt Bettencourt, the more Roman liked him. And the more he got to know Frankie...

  “Oh, yeah. But that night, after I’d almost cried myself to sleep, he came into my room with a plate of homemade chocolate chip cookies and told me he’d never been prouder of me.” Tears welled again, but this time she pulled them back.

  “He sounds like a great dad.”

  “He was.” Gratitude shone in her eyes. “He was the best.”

  “What about your mom?”

  “What about her?”

  Roman shrugged. “I’ve heard a lot about your dad, from you and from other people in town. Just never heard anyone mention your mother. Is she still alive?”

  “Last I heard. She wasn’t what you’d call the maternal sort. When it came to all the important stuff, it was always my dad who was around.”

  Recognizing a sore subject when he heard it, Roman changed tactics. “Any idea what your dad’s plans were for this house?”

  “No. Whatever they were, they died with him. It’s too bad. It’s just sitting here. Such a waste.”

  “Yes,” Roman said. “It is.” He figured her trip down memory lane had gone on long enough. And now he had a new mystery to solve. He cleared his throat, changed subjects. “I was going through the files for the last year. I didn’t see a record of any physical agility tests or education sessions.”

  “If people knew they were going to be tested on physical agility, we’d have even fewer volunteers than we already do. Bud tended to evaluate on-site. Were the files not enough? As far as I know, everyone’s up on their EMT certificates.”

  “No, they’re fine. I’m just thinking about doing some in-person evaluations.”

  Frankie shrugged. “You’re the chief. You want to put them through their paces, that’s your prerogative.”