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Saved By The Firefighter
Rachel Brimble
How can she forgive him for what he didn't do?Photographer Izzy Cooper feels as frozen as her pictures. Trent Palmer might be the hottest firefighter in Templeton Cove, but she can never face him again. Not after he failed to save her brother. But when they're forced together by a calendar shoot, the sparks between them are undeniable.Izzy knows it's not fair to blame Trent for the tragedy, but opening herself up to loss again isn't something she's prepared to do, no matter how determined Trent is to show her that pain is part of life and that love—their love—can make any suffering bearable.


How can she forgive him for what he didn’t do?
Photographer Izzy Cooper feels as frozen as her pictures. Trent Palmer might be the hottest firefighter in Templeton Cove, but she can never face him again. Not after he failed to save her brother. But when they’re forced together by a calendar shoot, the sparks between them are undeniable.
Izzy knows it’s not fair to blame Trent for the tragedy, but opening herself up to loss again isn’t something she’s prepared to do, no matter how determined Trent is to show her that pain is part of life and that love—their love—can make any suffering bearable.
“I’m not trying to save you.”
“No? Then what are you doing?”
He met her steady gaze. “Trying to make you mine and me yours.”
She stared at him for a long moment before her eyes softened. “Trent, please try to understand. I can’t spend every day wondering if today is the day I lose you. I have no one who needs anything from me. I’m free to do and go where I want, and that’s exactly what I should be doing. My pictures could be a hit in the city. I could make more money than I’ve ever dreamed of.”
“And you think money will make you happy. It never made anyone happy. You know that.”
She put down her menu and looked past him toward the bar, her expression unreadable.
He studied her beautiful profile. “I’d never hurt you, Izzy. I know you don’t need me protecting you or caring for you, but Robbie...”
“Would’ve wanted you to.” She met his gaze, tears glinting in her eyes. “And maybe part of me wants that, too, but I’m scared, Trent. Really, really scared.”
Dear Reader (#u595f1d10-f6f8-533f-8c9f-95b6095984e1),
So happy to welcome you back to Templeton Cove! Saved by the Firefighter is book six in the series, but all the stories can be read as stand-alone books. I’ve always wanted to write a story with a firefighting hero, but the right tale didn’t come along until now. Trent Palmer and the heroine in the story, Izzy Cooper, are two new characters to the Cove, and they were a joy to write.
After Izzy loses her brother in an explosion at the local garage, she blames Trent for not coming to his rescue soon enough. Even though her brother was already dead on the fire crew’s arrival, Izzy needs to blame someone, and in Trent, her friend and past lover, she has a safe place to direct her anger and grief.
As willing as Trent is to shoulder the blame if that’s what Izzy needs from him, he isn’t so happy to sit by and watch the woman he loves morph into someone he hardly recognizes. As he coaxes Izzy back into life and toward the people who care and love her, the trust begins to build...but the obstacles keeping them apart escalate.
Their story is one of overcoming grief and learning to love and live again. I hope you enjoy meeting these two wonderful people in my favorite seaside town, Templeton Cove.
Happy reading,
Rachel
Twitter: @RachelBrimble (https://twitter.com/RachelBrimble) Facebook: Rachel Brimble (https://www.facebook.com/rachelbrimbleauthor/)
Saved by the Firefighter
Rachel Brimble


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
RACHEL BRIMBLE lives with her husband, two teenage daughters and chocolate Labrador in a small town near the famous city of Bath, England. She writes mainstream romance and romantic suspense for Harlequin Superromance and Victorian romance for Kensington.
Agented both in the US and the UK, Rachel is currently working on book seven of the Templeton Cove Stories as well as the first in what she hopes will be an ongoing Edwardian saga.
When she isn’t writing, you’ll find Rachel reading, knitting or walking the beautiful English countryside.
Links:
www.RachelBrimble.com (http://www.rachelbrimble.com) Twitter: @RachelBrimble (https://twitter.com/RachelBrimble) Facebook: Rachel Brimble (https://www.facebook.com/rachelbrimbleauthor/)
For Mum & Dad—who are so supportive of my dreams. Thank you for making me feel as though every book I write is something huge to celebrate. I’m proud to be yours!
Contents
Cover (#ua116634e-e42e-5bb7-b45d-15e571b39149)
Back Cover Text (#u15e88be9-c4c6-5f9f-9f6d-70b419b989bb)
Introduction (#u68398b53-3b26-538b-9f16-223258e7dbd4)
Dear Reader (#uc831a4db-9afc-5798-8d86-a9a0856486d0)
Title Page (#uc415e922-ee3a-525c-a3f4-0fca7b8bccd0)
About the Author (#u6ee3ce4f-317b-569c-afe5-e4947c3f431a)
Dedication (#u89036250-51a2-516c-9b79-1dccd1dd4409)
CHAPTER ONE (#uad390289-e28a-5292-ad98-d70ddc5e40e7)
CHAPTER TWO (#u4a5cceb5-a266-54d0-a475-c29666084663)
CHAPTER THREE (#u58f779fd-a868-51f4-944e-8b51ce96d854)
CHAPTER FOUR (#u4545a5f3-36d1-5cd8-9499-58bf6fc63343)
CHAPTER FIVE (#u2507819a-4402-56b9-8838-135bec95e385)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#u595f1d10-f6f8-533f-8c9f-95b6095984e1)
Three months earlier
IZZY SLOWLY OPENED her eyes and languidly stretched, inhaling the scent of sandalwood and man. Turning her head, she stared at Trent’s dark brown, sleep-ruffled hair as he dozed peacefully beside her. She smiled and waited for the regret to set in...but instead only happiness flowed through her.
She’d done it.
She’d finally invited Templeton Cove’s hunkiest firefighter into her bed.
After months of self-protection, weeks of carefully executed sanity, she’d let down her defenses and given in to the man any sane woman on the planet would want to wake up next to. Would this morning bring a new beginning...or would they slip back into their casual friendship once more?
Her smile dissolved. A friend with benefits was most definitely not on her agenda. Her morals and need for order put paid to that sort of nonsensical relationship.
She couldn’t guarantee Trent would feel the same way.
He was a firefighter. A man who thrived on the thrill of risking his life every day; a man who needed to save people. Templeton considered Trent a hero. Someone who lived and breathed his job. One part of a team relied upon by the Cove’s residents to keep them as safe as much as they relied on their police force to do the same.
Izzy turned her gaze to the ceiling. Her life was the antithesis of Trent’s. She was methodical. Careful. About everything. Trent lived his life as though every moment was his last.
He shifted and murmured something intelligible. Izzy glanced at him just as his eyes flickered open. His bright green gaze met hers and he smiled sleepily. “Hey.”
Izzy forced a smile, her stomach tightening just at the sexy sight of him. “Hey.”
He reached his hand across her naked abdomen and tugged her closer, brushing a kiss over her ear, inching lower to kiss her jaw. He inhaled. “How come you still smell like flowers first thing in the morning?”
She grinned. “I didn’t realize I smelled like flowers any time.”
“You do. Always.”
As he moved his hand higher to gently stroke the underside of her breast, her body heated, and all thoughts of making it clear to him that their relationship couldn’t be a casual thing faltered.
The frenzied, almost illicit surrender of just a few hours before was replaced with gentleness. A slow, exquisite exploration of each other’s bodies. Izzy stared into his eyes, secretly hoping he saw her and no one else. That she was special to him.
Her reward was better than she could have imagined or hoped for. His usually intense, concentrated gaze was soft, trusting and full of only her. She had no choice but to respond, her body turning pliant under his gentle caresses as her heart inched closer to love than like. Surrendering, she moved her hands over his back, higher to his shoulders until her fingers were in his hair and their kisses intensified.
She made love to Trent with every part of her. Held him. Touched him. Loved him because whatever happened next between them...her eyes smarted with tears, it felt so right to be with him. Always.
* * *
IZZY BLINKED AND the memory vanished.
She took a deep breath and clutched her newest portfolio of photographs to her chest as she walked from the developing lab at the back of her photography studio into the front open-plan office. Spreading out the shots on the surface of her huge workstation, she battled the unjust resentment she felt toward the family who’d paid for them. Mother, father, toddler son and his baby sister all smiled at the camera, their eyes shining with love and happiness. She squeezed her eyes shut, anger and frustration making her tremble.
Nine weeks had passed since Robbie was killed in an explosion at the garage, but the pain still resided in her heart as mercilessly as it had the day it happened. She was nothing but a shell, inside and out.
She had no brother and two parents who spent months at a time traveling the Mediterranean as they worked as singers on a cruise ship. And now she was entirely alone. Maybe she should have tried harder to reconcile with her parents, apologized for pushing them away. They had tried so hard to comfort and be there for her, but there was nothing Izzy wanted other than her brother. She swallowed. And now separation from her mum and dad had eased a little of the fear of loving them too deeply.
Opening her eyes, she snatched up the photographs and reached beneath the workstation for an envelope. She slid the shots inside, her hands trembling. Kate, her best friend, continued to accuse Izzy of changing beyond recognition. She’d even suggested counseling. Izzy swallowed against the lump of humiliation as it rose in her throat.
Doesn’t Kate know how strong I am? That I’ll deal with my grief any way I see fit, and right now that is work, work and more work.
The security alarm chimed. Someone had stepped inside the studio. Exhaling a heavy breath, Izzy pulled back her shoulders, lifted her head and forced a smile.
“Hi, how can I...” Her heart stopped. Trent Palmer stood just inside the door. “Why are you here?”
His dark green gaze bored relentlessly into hers, his strong jaw set as he reached behind him and shut the door. “I came by to see how you’re doing.”
Traitorous attraction skittered over the surface of her skin before Izzy turned and strode toward the corner she used for staging portrait shots. The fluffy bunnies, huge furry dice and toys she’d used to relax a toddler earlier now felt macabre.
She spun around, clutching a teddy bear. “The same as I was doing yesterday and the day before. I told you I don’t want to see you. I don’t ever want to see you. Why do you keep coming back?”
He came closer, his gaze locked on hers. “You have to talk to me. I was Robbie’s friend. There was nothing—”
“You could do. Fine. I get it, but why do you feel the need to keep coming in here and checking up on me? What do you want me to do? Dance in the street? Kick up my heels at the fairground? God, just leave me alone.”
“There’s a beach party tonight. I want you to come with me.”
She stared. Why him? Why would a man she really liked—a damn firefighter—have to pursue her like she was someone worth pursuing? “No.”
He looked at the equipment covering the desk alongside him. He lifted and replaced a camera, the hunch of his wide shoulders indicating his discomfort. Izzy hated that she drew no satisfaction from that...only sadness.
He turned. “I want you to come and show your face to the people who care about you. Kate said—”
“Kate had no right to say anything to you.” She lifted her chin. “I’m fine.”
“Then come to the beach.”
“No.”
He crossed his arms. “Why not? What good is it doing you, hiding away in here twenty-four-seven?”
“I’m not hiding.” Liar. “My work is better than it’s ever been. I have lots to keep me busy, and I don’t need you or a damn beach party to make me feel better.”
“This isn’t who you are, Iz. You’ve always worked, always been ambitious, but everyone is used to you taking pictures while you play as well as work. Where have you gone? Don’t you think Robbie would’ve wanted you to step out into the sunlight now and then?”
The sound of her brother’s name on Trent’s lips brought the sting of tears to her eyes. “Don’t talk to me about Robbie. He would want me to do whatever I wanted, and right now the last thing I want to do is talk to you.” She turned her back to him and tossed the bear into a plastic crate of other props. She sighed. “Please, Trent. Just get out of here.”
“You know as well as I do that Robbie wanted us together. He actively encouraged it.”
“Yeah, he did and look how that turned out.”
His jaw tightened. “Are you saying it was no good? That we were no good? God, Iz, Robbie would’ve loved knowing we finally got together.”
Loss wrapped around her heart, making it ache. “Maybe, but he would’ve also seen we were a bad idea together too.”
Hurt flashed in his eyes, before he exhaled heavily. “Look, you might not want to talk to me, but there’s someone else we have to think about.”
She planted her hands on her hips, her body humming with irritation and the urge to grip him by his stupidly large biceps and march him out of her studio. Didn’t he realize he was invading her only place of peace? “Who?”
“Maya Jackson. We have to do this calendar, Iz. We promised. If we don’t set up the shoot soon, it won’t be ready for Christmas. That little girl, her family and Kate are relying on you...us...to do this.”
She tipped her head back and glared at the ceiling. There was no way she’d let down Maya, suffering so acutely with leukemia, any more than she would continue a relationship with the firefighter who’d failed to respond quick enough to save her brother. No matter how the results of the ensuing investigation had confirmed that it was a falling beam that killed Robbie at the garage, she had to blame someone or she’d go insane.
The safest person to blame was strong, reliable Trent. A man she’d grown to deeply care for and admire during the four years before Robbie died. A man who knew her and her brother. Knew her home and her life...and who still wanted to know her.
He didn’t deserve her derision; he didn’t deserve everything she threw at him, yet time and again he became her target. She had to keep his interest at bay. Better still—stop it altogether.
She dropped her chin. “Fine. I’ll call Kate and set up a meeting. I don’t see how that has any bearing on my going to a beach party. I’ll call you when you need to be involved with the calendar, okay?”
“No, it’s not okay. I wanted you before the explosion and I want you now. Why are you shutting me out like this? What good is it doing you?”
“For your information, I’m doing just fine. Just forget about us. We aren’t right for each other.”
“Why? Because I’m a firefighter?”
The disbelief in his tone hitched her stretched nerves tighter. “You’re too different. I’ve told you this before. I want more than you’ll ever be able to give me.”
“Like what?” His gaze burned with frustration. “You don’t want a man who can care for you, look after you and treat you how you deserve?”
She closed her eyes. She wanted all of those things. So much. “You really don’t understand what I’m saying, do you?”
“No.”
“Because it’s you, Trent.” Izzy opened her eyes, her heart aching. “Before Robbie died, I was reluctant to date you because half the female population wants to sleep with you. Now that Robbie’s gone, I would never, ever go out with a firefighter. Whether he was you or not.”
The silence stretched. Izzy fought not to squirm under his appraisal, fought not to reach forward for one blessed kiss from a man any woman would be a fool not to want. Well, better a fool than a grieving girlfriend.
His eyes darkened with determination. “I’m not giving up on you, Iz. You can fight me as much as you want. I won’t give up. If we’re nothing else, I hope we’re still friends.”
“For God’s sake, what is it you want from me?” Her eyes filled with tears. “I didn’t ask you to look after me. Why do you feel you have the right to keep hassling me?”
“Hassling you? I’m not hassling you, I’m caring about you. You accused me of hassling you before Robbie died... Nothing’s changed.”
“Nothing’s... How dare you? Everything’s changed.” Her cheeks burned hot as her traitorous tears slipped to her cheeks. She swiped at them with trembling fingers. “Everything. If you can’t see that, then I have less to say to you than I thought.”
He briefly closed his eyes. “I didn’t mean that the way it came out.”
“No? Then if you can’t think before you speak, why would I want to spend time with someone that insensitive?”
“Iz, please. Just come to the beach party tonight and I promise if you don’t have a good time, or at least relax awhile, I won’t bother you again.” He raised his hands in surrender. “I’ll respect whatever it is you’re doing on your own and leave you be.”
“On my own. Something you, Kate and every other person with a family alive and well will never understand.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she regretted them. She’d revealed every ounce of her vulnerability. She crossed her arms and dragged her gaze from the humiliating sympathy in his expression to look toward the window behind him. “Is Kate going? Is this invite some way to get her and me talking again?” She looked at him. “I just told you I’ll call her and get things in motion with the calendar.”
“I don’t know if she’ll be there or not.” He stepped toward her and then stopped as though he changed his mind. He shoved his hand into his dark hair and held it there. “Doesn’t the fact that you two aren’t talking show you something is seriously wrong? You need people around you who care. Work doesn’t do what a hug can.”
She frowned. “A hug? You think a hug is all it will take to get rid of this pain?”
“No, but it will go a damn sight further than making another bundle of money will. Just take a break.”
Izzy glared. She’d made more money in the last few weeks than she ever thought possible. Her phone was ringing nonstop with assignments. It seemed the photography world, and collectors, relished pictures leaning more toward the dark than the dazzling. It was true the money had done nothing to alleviate her grief, but the work provided her with something to stop her thinking about her dead brother.
He cleared his throat. “You need something to take your mind off Robbie.”
She blinked. “I have that.”
“Let me guess...work.”
Asshole.
Their gazes locked until Izzy weakened under the weight of his glare. She spun away from him and headed to her desk. “Fine. I’ll come to the party.” She met his relieved gaze and ignored the way her heart lifted to see that her agreement had banished his rare and unwelcome anger. “I’ll go to the beach and I’ll eat, drink and be merry if you think that will fix this, but believe me, nothing will scratch the surface of what I’m feeling. Nothing. You’ve got what you come here for, so just go.”
He strolled toward her and came around the desk, standing so close she was forced to tip her head back to meet his eyes. Her heart picked up speed as she resisted the urge to inhale the musky, male scent of him. “What?”
He leaned down and brushed his lips over her cheek. “I’ll see you later.”
Her body paralyzed, yet her heart beat out of control as he turned and walked toward the door.
Only when the studio door swung shut behind him did Izzy drop into her chair and finally cry. She wanted to hit him. Hurt him. Inflict some of her physical pain onto Trent’s wide incapable shoulders and see what the hell he would do about it.
Tears rolled down her cheeks like water releasing from a dam, yet all she could think of was how it would feel to have Trent hold her. Now. At this moment when the pain came and hurt so damn much.
CHAPTER TWO (#u595f1d10-f6f8-533f-8c9f-95b6095984e1)
TRENT TIPPED HIS beer bottle to his lips and icy-cold lager slipped down his parched throat. Dance music thumped from the speakers and a hundred or so semiclad people yelled, screamed and danced on the sand. What had he been thinking asking Izzy here? This was the very last place she should be. Why hadn’t he insisted on cooking for her at his place? A glass of wine, some of that classical music she liked...
“You’re an idiot,” he murmured. “A class-A idiot.”
“I couldn’t agree more, but since I’m here, you can start by getting the first of many glasses of wine I intend to have tonight.”
Relief swept through him and Trent smiled. Izzy. She came. He slowly turned and the smart comeback he had in mind froze on his tongue. Holy crap. She’d twisted her long blond hair to the side in some sort of fancy plait, the tip brushing her right breast. Her eyelids softly shimmered, the lashes thick and dark, making her blue eyes bigger than ever.
Trent blinked. “You look...you look...”
“Underweight according to Kate. I know.” She lifted her shoulders. “Losing a brother can do that to a girl. How about that wine?”
He swallowed against the dryness in his throat and he was relieved when he opened his mouth and words actually emerged. “I admit, I’d be more than happy to see some more meat on your bones, but I was actually going to say you look amazing.”
Their gazes locked for a second before she looked to the beach behind him. “Thanks.”
He took her hand and pride washed through him when she didn’t pull away as he’d expected. “Let’s get you that drink.”
People stared as they passed on their way to the makeshift bar and Trent stiffened his shoulders. As much as he’d loved living in Templeton Cove these past four years, there were still times when a guy couldn’t be blamed for wanting the anonymity of a city.
He tightened his grip on Izzy’s hand. When her fingers clenched his in response, it was all too clear she felt the heat of the town’s curiosity too. He stopped. “Do you want to get out of here?”
Her eyes darkened with determination. “And why would I want to do that?”
“Come on, Iz. You know why. If I had known people were going to—”
“Stare? Pity me? Then that’s too bad, because I’ve thought of little else since you stormed into my studio and gave me no choice but to come tonight.” She eased her hand from his and lifted it in a nonchalant wave. “Well, I did as the big alpha male commanded and I’m here. I want to dance and get drunk. Now, you either stay and look after me, or I’ll find someone else equally as capable.”
She brushed past him and he stepped back, his gaze falling to her perfect ass in a short black skirt. Hope rose inside him and he smiled. Whether Izzy realized it or not, she was already showing signs of her old self. Long may it continue. He was more than happy to deal with whatever she had in mind to throw at him—he was strong enough, liked her enough to take her punches. He was a patient man and would wait for her to come to the conclusion that they were great together, just as he’d thought she had done three months before.
He sidled up to her at the bar, where the barman filled a large glass with white wine. The guy’s gaze slid back and forth between the V of Izzy’s shirt and the glass he filled. Trent cleared his throat. “And a bottle of beer when you’re ready, my friend.”
The barman lifted his gaze. “Be right with you.”
Trent narrowed his eyes as the guy moved to the fridges behind him.
“What’s your problem, Firefighter Trent?” Izzy laughed. “You think he’s edging in on your territory or something?”
Rare heat hit Trent’s face. Worse, it matched the heat of the protectiveness roaring behind his rib cage. “’Course not, but you being hit on wasn’t part of the deal tonight.”
“Part of the deal?” Izzy grinned and sipped her wine. “The deal tonight will be whatever I choose it to be.”
He tossed a glare at the barman. “Is that so?”
Her fingers touched his chin, turning his face to hers. The spot where her fingers lingered simmered with a frisson of electricity. He met her gaze and fought the urge to kiss her. “What?”
“Once you have your drink, we’re going to dance.”
Trent shook his head, his gaze hovering on her mouth. “I don’t dance.”
“You do tonight.” She picked up her glass and left the bar.
She walked across the small breadth of decking and down the sand-covered steps onto the beach. Why couldn’t it be any other girl in the entire world who haunted his dreams and made him want to fix her life in every way? Why Robbie’s sister? Why the woman who blamed him for an unthinkable tragedy, detested him and would undoubtedly rip his heart from his chest once she found the worst possible way to do it?
He clenched his jaw. Deep inside, he sensed Izzy would be incapable of cruelty no matter how much she might want to humiliate him. Her kindness and false sense of bravado were the things that struck at his very core since he first laid eyes on her. From the moment she’d walked into the Coast bar to join her brother for a late-night drink, Trent had wanted to know who she was. The discovery that Izzy was the sister of the first guy he’d befriended in Templeton had been an obstacle he was determined to overcome.
It had taken him almost four years to have the honor of kissing and touching such a beautiful and wonderful woman. Then Robbie was killed and Trent hadn’t for one moment considered the strength of Izzy’s resistance to having anything more to do with him.
“That’s six pounds, twenty, mate.”
The barman’s voice sliced through Trent’s reverie and he turned, sliding his hand into his back pocket for his wallet. Saying nothing, his eyes still on the barman’s. The guy had clearly decided Izzy was a free agent from the way his cool stare met Trent’s.
Trent slid a ten-pound note from his wallet and held it out. “Keep the change.”
The barman nodded, his face somber as he reached for the money. “I’ll put it in the charity box.”
“You do that, and for the record, that girl I’m with, she’s out of bounds.”
The barman smiled. “I didn’t get the impression she considers herself yours, mate.”
“One, I’m not your mate and, two, she’s had a rough time of it lately and doesn’t need guys hitting on her left, right and center.”
The barman took the note from Trent’s fingers and raised his eyebrows. “Fair enough. Might be a good idea if you took your own advice, if that’s the case.”
He walked away and Trent glared at the barman’s retreating back as he picked up his beer. He took a hefty slug and turned to the beach, his gaze immediately picking out Izzy as she stood alone, jigging lightly to an R&B track, her almost-empty glass swaying back and forth in her hand.
He headed in her direction. Even if he could never get her to accept that Robbie had died before the fire service’s arrival on the scene, he would do anything to make her genuinely smile again. He’d make that happen, even if he was eventually forced to admit defeat and surrender her to another man. If someone else—apart from the cocky barman—could hold her in his arms and make her smile, it would be enough for him to let her go.
Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.
He moved beside her and she turned, her eyebrows raised. “Finished your face-off with the bar staff?”
He took another drink. “Yep.”
“Good.” She reached up, took the bottle from his hand and placed it beside her glass on an upturned crate beside her. She took his hand. “Now we dance.”
“I told you I don’t dance.”
He tugged her back and she stopped short. “What?”
His gaze drew like a tracker beam to her sweet, kissable mouth. “You’ll regret making me do this.”
She shrugged. “Maybe I will, maybe I won’t.”
* * *
IZZY REGRETTED HER decision to dance with him the instant Trent’s hands touched her waist.
Boom! The sexual tension took off like a damn rocket.
What was wrong with her? For months and months, even before Robbie died, she’d avoided having anything less than two feet of space between her and Trent in the name of self-preservation. She’d watched enough women embarrass themselves by salivating after her brother’s best friend to know there was something about Trent that was potent and dangerous.
Then she’d gone and slept with him.
What had she thought would happen after such an amazing night? That one or both of them would walk away, be unaffected by those hours? The truth was, three amazing weeks had followed...and then Robbie was killed and ever since, everything between her and Trent had been different. Irrevocably different.
She would never again open herself up to the risk of falling in love only to have the guy die or walk away.
Yet she’d given in to the childish need to call Trent out, to bluff his advances and now she was suffering the consequences of his magnetism all over again. Once Trent had his entire focus on a woman and she was close enough to smell his scent, she was caught.
Then to have him put his hands on her?
Izzy swallowed her groan as it threatened to erupt, slapped on a smile and raised an eyebrow in an attempt to impersonate a femme fatale who could nonchalantly separate the men from the boys whenever she chose. “Are we going to move? Or just stand here with you looking at me like that?”
He smiled. “Like what?”
“Like you’re going to...” Her shaky facade faltered. “Bite me.”
He laughed...and goddamn it if she didn’t smile. Really smile. He met her gaze again and winked. He pulled her closer and, against her better judgment, Izzy didn’t move away.
The music slowed and a soul ballad pumped seductively from the speakers like a cruelly planned serenade. He nodded. “Now, this kind of dance I can do. We just need to get real close and shuffle. You can shuffle, right?”
Every inch of her body screamed with suppressed sexual attraction. Her heart beat fast as she fought the heat tingling through her breasts and lower. The man was a walking, talking love machine.
She forced her gaze to stay on his. “Of course I can.”
“Good.”
He lifted one of her hands to his chest and, with a single tug on the other, eased her close enough a grain of sand couldn’t have lodged between them. His heart beat under her palm, as hers pulsed in her ears. The soft teasing in his eyes slowly dissolved until he looked at her with such focused attention her legs grew feeble. Her feet shifted upon the sand of their own accord. He was so tall, broad and wide at this close proximity, she felt fragile in his arms. She looked into his eyes and her stomach flipped over as if she were a fifteen-year-old girl instead of a twenty-nine-year-old woman. Heat burned. Attraction soared. At last, for just a few moments, everything felt right in the world.
She froze.
Everything wasn’t right in the world. Despite the slowly gathering peace between her and her parents, they were still thousands of miles away. Robbie was still dead, and the man who held her so close his breath whispered across her lashes had arrived too late at the garage to save her brother’s life.
She stepped back and Trent gripped her hand, keeping it pressed to his chest as the determination she knew so well seeped into his gaze.
Izzy closed her eyes as claustrophobia grew. “I need to go.”
“Don’t do this, Iz.”
She opened her eyes.
His gaze held quiet pleading mixed with challenge. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”
Fear gripped her heart and squeezed. She couldn’t lean on him. She couldn’t lean on anyone without the risk of furthering the pain of loss she continued to battle every single day. She squirmed out of his grasp and he released her. “You’ve got me? God, Trent, have you forgotten Robbie was your best friend? That he’s dead?” She cursed and looked around, before stepping back. “I have to get of here. I want to leave. Right now.”
She whipped off her shoes and ran across the sand toward the steps that led to home and safety. Memories crashed into her mind and coated her throat with the bitter taste of fear.
The explosion that killed her brother had been so loud, so sudden, the first thing that went through Izzy’s mind had been that someone had thrown a petrol bomb through her studio window. She’d gripped her best friend’s arm as they simultaneously dropped to the floor. The floor tiles had vibrated through Izzy’s palms as the echoes of people’s screams filtered through the open studio window.
She’d looked at Kate, her heart racing. “What the hell was that?”
Kate’s eyes had been wide as she visibly shook. “I don’t know, but whatever it was, people are going to need our help.” She’d leaped to her feet. “Come on. We have to go out there.”
They’d sprinted from the darkroom and into the studio, running toward the picture window at the front.
Bright orange flames had rolled from the entrance of the garage where Izzy’s brother worked, blurring Izzy’s vision. Thick black smoke spiraled on a plume through the doors, diving and leaping on the summer breeze.
“Robbie...” Izzy had reached blindly for Kate’s hand, arm, anything. “Robbie!”
CHAPTER THREE (#u595f1d10-f6f8-533f-8c9f-95b6095984e1)
TRENT CURSED AND took off after Izzy as she bolted onto the promenade.
The idea had been to get her to the party and then concentrate on whatever she needed. He wanted her to relax, smile, have a drink and realize the whole world wasn’t a threat to her existence. Hadn’t his entire mission tonight been about making her trust him enough to feel safe? That maybe one day she might see him as a man rather than a monster?
He was sick and tired of trying to get her out of his mind by dating other women. Life was too short not to listen to his heart and act on feelings that refused to abate. He clenched his jaw. He’d seen too much death in his career, but it had been Robbie’s that made him determined to act on his feelings for Izzy. He wanted her...and deep in his heart, he sensed she wanted him too.
Something had always held her back from him. Something he wanted to hear her explain. Her new reason for not giving them a chance was Robbie’s death. If she wasn’t attracted to him, didn’t like him...regretted the three fantastic weeks they’d spent together...then she only ever had to say that and he’d leave her alone.
She hadn’t, and every time she looked at him, her eyes said the exact opposite was going on. She was attracted to him, liked him...but still held herself out of reach.
She’d only gotten as far as the small circle of shops situated on a paved area above the beach. Trent slowed to a walk. She sat on a wrought-iron bench, hunched over with her face in her hands.
He sat beside her and leaned his forearms on his thighs. “Tonight was a bad idea. Sorry.”
Slowly, she lowered her hands and turned to face him. The silver tracks of her tears shone beneath the streetlight beside her. “I don’t want to go on like this.”
It was painful to see her blue eyes so full of anguish, confusion and pain. He tilted his head toward her hand. “May I?”
She nodded. Releasing his held breath, Trent lifted her hand and put it on his thigh, holding it tightly. Despite the warmth of the night, her fingers were like ice. He rubbed them against his jeans to warm her. “I miss him too, Iz. There was nothing I, or any of us, could’ve done. If for one minute I could’ve saved him, don’t you think I would have?”
“That doesn’t make it any easier for me to be around you.”
“But it isn’t just me, is it?” He kept his voice soft, not wanting to sound accusatory because he wasn’t. It was up to Izzy how she dealt with the grief emanating from her, but that didn’t make it any easier for him to stand by and let her push him and her friends away. “I’m not trying to tell you what to do, Iz, but if you won’t give me a chance to be there for you, can’t you at least let Kate back in?”
She slipped her hand from his and stared ahead. “I just need some time, that’s all.”
“It’s been three months. We’re just trying to be there for you.”
“How much time I need is anyone’s guess, but I’m not ready to sit around chatting and laughing as though Robbie’s still here.”
“No one’s asking you—”
“Trent. Please. Just let me do things my way.”
Frustration and helplessness rolled through him. “Why can’t you give us another chance?”
“It’s too complicated.”
“Complicated? I’ve never found anything less complicated.”
Her gaze darkened. “Maybe not the first time around, but it would be different this time. If you don’t understand that—”
“I don’t, so you need to explain it to me.” He hated pushing her, but she needed to say the words clearly before he could accept what was in her heart and mind.
She exhaled a slow breath. “When my parents left...or when I demanded them to...” She shook her head. “They tried so hard to reach me, Trent. Tried to help me through my grief, but in the end none of us were strong enough for the other. Mum and Dad resumed their careers and I was alone. I just don’t trust... Not anymore.”
“You don’t trust that I won’t leave you alone too one day?”
Her gaze bored into his until she looked away into the distance. “Maybe. Those few weeks we were together weren’t enough to make me believe you’ll always be around. I have no one left. I’m not in the right mind to give myself to anyone at the moment, let alone a firefighter. You run into danger every day.” She faced him, her eyes filled with determination. “I can’t deal with that. I don’t want to deal with it.”
“But what about before Robbie died?”
“There is no before Robbie. All I have in my head is since Robbie. How can you not see that?”
He exhaled, lowered his voice in an effort to soften the battle going on inside him. “We were great together. Or did I imagine that? Were you not there with me?”
Her gaze ran over his face, lingered a moment at his mouth before she met his eyes. “I was there. All the way there. That was part of the problem. You’re a great guy and I know if things don’t work out...or if you get hurt working...” She shook her head. “Right now I’m way too needy for someone like you.”
“Needy? You? Iz, you’ve proven over and over how much you stand on your own two feet. Being with someone doesn’t make you needy, it means you’re living. Taking risks.”
Her eyes shadowed with sadness before she looked away once more. “That’s just it. I don’t like risks and never will. You’re completely the wrong guy for me. You’re too...”
Trent tensed as the minuscule shred of hope he had left of being with her snapped and pinged across the pavement in front of them. “Too what?”
She turned and her eyes shone with unshed tears. “Too something. I need to be able to blame you. To blame someone for what happened. If I don’t, if I accept that Robbie’s death was nobody’s fault, then all I’m left with is this irrational anger. What if I can only feel anger all the time? Why would you even want to be around someone like that?”
He stared into her eyes, desperate to gently ease her head to his shoulder and let her cry until she had no more tears, but she’d never allow that to happen. She was too independent. Too strong.
“It will get easier.” Trent swallowed as memories he kept deeply hidden resurfaced. “You won’t believe me right now, but it will.”
“Don’t say that. I’m sick of people telling me that. How can you, someone who has seen people die, burned and scarred, say this will pass?” She pushed to her feet and looked around as though seeking escape. “I’m going home. Thanks for tonight. At least I got out of the apartment for a while and now know working all the time is exactly what I need to do.”
She turned away and Trent let her take a few steps before he released his held breath. “My sister died in a fire when she was twelve. That was the day I knew exactly what I wanted to do for the rest of my life.”
She came to an abrupt halt but didn’t turn around.
He stared at her turned back and stood. “It’s your choice what happens now, Iz. You have some decisions to make, but think very carefully if you still want me and everyone else to stay away. The one thing I can guarantee is that your loss won’t get easier if you try to deal with it alone.”
Slowly, she faced him. The music from the beach boomed, the screaming and laughter mocking and twisting his heart. He wanted to turn around and tell them to shut up. To stride across the space separating him from Izzy so he could take her in his arms and be the one to get her through her pain.
Her chest rose as she took in a breath. “What?”
“My sister. She died in a fire too.”
“I never knew...”
“Because I never told you, Robbie or anyone else in the Cove. I’m telling you now because I know what it’s like, Iz. I’ve felt every single thing you’re feeling and I hate that you won’t let me be with you.”
She stared for a long moment...and then she ran to him.
Trent scooped her into his arms and covered her mouth with his. He kissed her with everything he had. Her lips were soft, her tongue eager and commanding. He held her close and relished the fullness of her breasts pressed against his chest. Her hands moved over his shoulders to the nape of his neck. She clung to him, and for one blessed minute Trent allowed himself to believe someday Izzy Cooper might come to want him as he wanted her.
“Take me home.” She stared into his eyes, her body trembling.
“What?”
“Take me home. Make love to me.”
His heartbeat quickened and every muscle in his body tensed with desire and need. “This can’t be a temporary thing. You have to want me for the long haul.”
“Trent, come on. I’m asking you to—”
“I mean it. I care about you too much to—”
“You’re rejecting me?” Her cheeks darkened.
“I’m not rejecting—”
“No? Then what was all the times you came to the studio with flowers, food and God knows what else about if it wasn’t about getting me back into bed?”
Was she serious? “You think that was about sex?”
“Isn’t it always? Goddamn it, Trent. What’s the matter with you? Put me down.”
As though she were a china doll, he gently eased her to the ground, fighting the need to shake her. “What’s the matter with me? Jesus Christ, Iz.”
“What? You think I’ve got this all wrong? We’re talking about the great Trent Palmer, aren’t we? The brave, handsome firefighter who struts around town with his dark, glossy hair, green eyes and sexy, toe-curling smile. What else am I supposed to think other than you want to have sex with me again? For God’s sake, don’t treat me like a moron.”
He would’ve have been flattered by her summary of him if her voice hadn’t cracked on every syllable. “Iz...”
He reached for her and she held up her hand. “Don’t you touch me.” She pushed the hair back from her face and snatched up her purse that had somehow landed on the asphalt. “At least we both know where we stand. I just offered you sex and you refused. Now I want you to stop coming around to my apartment, the studio and every other damn place and leave me alone.”
He crossed his arms. “I want us to go back to the beginning.”
She huffed a laugh and widened her eyes. “And where is that? Once I dated you, things took off between us at eighty miles an hour. Feelings make things complicated. Sex is good. Sex is hot and needy. Wham, bam and out of the apartment with no one getting hurt. But an actual relationship? No way, no how.” She closed her eyes. “Go and find one of the other girls hanging off your every word to date, because I’m not one of them.”
He clenched his jaw, his previous arousal quashed by his skyrocketing irritation. “I just told you something personal about me for a reason. I don’t want people knowing about my sister or my family’s loss. I told you because I want you to know I can listen. I understand. If this was all about sex, we would’ve gotten past that years ago.”
She opened her eyes and they flickered with hurt even as she lifted her chin. “If you think what happened to your sister hasn’t affected me, you shouldn’t even be able to look at me, let alone be with me. Don’t you understand I’m saying no for your good as well as mine?” Her eyes flooded with tears. “If anything happened to you...if I can’t handle the intimacy between us and end up hurting you...” She raised her hands and shook her head. “This isn’t happening. I’m sorry about your sister. I really am, but—”
“When I target you for sex, you’ll know it, but right now I want you to have a meal with me, laugh and spend some time.”
Trent could’ve sworn he saw a flash of longing in her eyes before she blinked and it was gone. “You really don’t get it, do you? Every day...” She slumped her shoulders and looked deep into his eyes, her gaze soft and spent. “Every day you go into situations that have the potential to kill you.” She looked to the ground. “Maybe, deep inside, I know it wasn’t your fault Robbie died, but how can you expect me to separate my grief for Robbie from my feelings for you?” She met his eyes. “I can’t do this, Trent. Not anymore. I’m sorry.”
“Iz, come on. The job—”
“No. No more.”
Spinning around, she stormed away.
“Goddamn it.” Trent shoved his hand into his hair and held it there.
What now?
* * *
IZZY CLUTCHED THE BUNCH of lilies she held a little tighter, her heart thumping with trepidation. Guilt over how she’d treated Kate, her best friend, lay like a lead weight in her chest. Trent’s words about her rebuffing people’s sympathetic actions and words had kept her awake half the night.
He’d spoken the truth...about a lot of things.
All people wanted to do was help her—especially Kate. It was time Izzy made amends.
Her messed-up feelings about family, trust and forgiveness weren’t Kate’s...they were Izzy’s, and her friend hadn’t deserved Izzy’s mistreatment of their love and friendship.
Taking a deep breath, she approached Kate’s front door and rang the bell.
Swift footsteps sounded from the other side before the door swung open, revealing Kate with her usual wide and welcoming smile. Her curly brown hair was whipped up into a messy knot on top of her head and she wore her uniform of jeans and a shirt, currently dotted with what looked like white paint.
Kate’s smile dissolved. “Wow. It’s you.”
Izzy grimaced and held out the flowers. “For you, with a humungous apology.”
“It’s a cheap shot, considering lilies are my absolute favorite flowers.” Kate took the lilies with a wink, her smile reappearing. “But apology and flowers accepted. Get in here. We have some serious catching up to do.”
Izzy stepped inside and grabbed Kate into a bear hug, almost crushing the flowers in the process. “I love you.”
“Yeah, yeah, take a ticket and join the queue.”
Izzy laughed and, arm in arm, she and Kate walked along the hallway into her bright and sunny kitchen.
Kate walked to the sink. “Grab a chair while I wash this paint off my hands and put these flowers in some water.”
“What have you been up to?”
“I’m painting the utility room. Fancied sprucing it up a little.”
“It’s so great to see you.” Izzy glanced toward the open utility room door as she slid onto a seat around the scrubbed pine table. “I’ve been such a nightmare. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be silly. You’re grieving and I wish I could do more to help.” Kate filled a vase and arranged the flowers in a blur of effortless skill. She glanced over her shoulder, her gaze sympathetic. “My heart breaks for you, Iz. It really does.”
“I know and I’m so sorry for pushing you away. I’m not even sure what I was trying to achieve.” Izzy sighed. “Someone gave me a talking-to last night and his words cut pretty deep.”
Kate frowned. “His words? I thought if anyone, it would’ve been Marian who gave you a talking-to.”
“Believe it or not, it wasn’t our town matriarch. And I shouldn’t have rejected your support...or anyone else’s for that matter. I’m slowly clawing my way back and so glad you still want me around.”
“Of course I do.” Kate brought the flowers to the table and positioned them in the center. “So, who was it that broke through that stubborn facade of yours if it wasn’t Marian?”
Heat immediately rose in Izzy’s cheeks. She slid her gaze from her friend’s to the table and drew invisible circles on its surface with her finger. “None other than firefighter Trent.”
“Really? Well, well, well...”
“What does that mean?” Izzy frowned and met Kate’s eyes, which sparkled with an almost demonic glee. “And why are you looking at me like that?”
“It means I love the guy and so should you.”
“Love Trent?” Izzy huffed a laugh, fighting the softening in her heart since she’d learned of his sister’s death and accepting that he must have gone through the same heartbreaking pain as her. “The man has more than enough admirers. He certainly doesn’t need any more.”
“Yeah, okay, you keep telling yourself Trent isn’t worth your attention. We’ll see how that pans out, shall we?”
“He practically forced me to go to the beach party last night.”
Kate sat and leaned forward on her elbows, her brown eyes wide with interest. “Forced you? I can’t see Trent forcing anyone to do anything.”
“Yeah, well, he forced me and I regret giving in. It did me no good at all.”
“No? Not even considering that he got you to come here bearing flowers and an apology?”
Izzy grimaced. “Well, okay, yes, that did me good.”
“Glad to hear it. So this is it? No more pushing people away? You’re going to accept all the love and condolences half the town has been trying to offer you over the last three months?”
“Yes. Everyone’s except Trent’s.”
“I don’t understand why you won’t give the guy another chance. You finally got together before Robbie died and I’ve never seen you so happy. Isn’t it worth trying again? Trent likes you, Iz. He always has as far as I can tell.”
“Just leave it, Kate. Please.”
“Robbie’s gone and the one person who’s tried the hardest, over and over, to be there for you, you have basically kicked in the teeth.”
“Not the one person. I’ve crawled back to you with my tail between my legs, haven’t I?”
“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.”
CHAPTER FOUR (#u595f1d10-f6f8-533f-8c9f-95b6095984e1)
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 toward the bar and Dave, the Coast’s landlord and owner, came toward him, only to be intercepted by his wife, Vanessa. “I’ve got the boys covered, my darling,” she said. “Why don’t you go and see what the family of four at table eight would like to eat?”
Trent tried and failed to hide his smile as Dave rolled his eyes behind Vanessa’s back but obeyed her order anyway.
Trent met Vanessa’s sparkling gaze and laughed. “Not sure Dave appreciated you serving us rather than him.”
She shrugged. “Too bad. What woman in her right mind would choose a visiting family of four over three strapping and, I must say, extremely gorgeous firefighters? I might be the wrong side of forty, but that doesn’t mean a lady can’t enjoy the view. Now, what can I get you?”
Sam and Will came to the bar on either side of him and Trent looked at his friends. “Beer, lads?”
They nodded.
“Then we’ll have a pitcher of your finest lager, please, Vanessa.”
“Coming right up. Where will I find you?”
Trent nodded toward the pool table in the far corner. “It looks like our usual spot is free so we’ll be there for the duration.”
“I’ll bring it straight over.”
Laughing at her blatant appraisal of him, Will and Sam before she busied herself at the pump, Trent turned. “Pool, gentlemen?”
Sam Paterson and Will Kent led the way toward the table. Pumped and ready for a good night with the men he relied on to have his back both in and out of work, Trent fought back as Izzy slid into his mind. Not tonight. He would not think about her after such a successful day.
Thinking about Izzy—wanting her—only served to ruin his good mood whenever he had occasion to enjoy one. She’d made it painfully clear she would never consider dating him as long as he continued to fight fires.
The fact that she’d dismissed his motivation for becoming a firefighter cut him deeper than her refusal to see he might live for years. His sister had died. Didn’t she see he understood her pain? Her anger? Her fear that things would never be the same again?
He refused to believe there wasn’t a deep want inside her waiting to break free and live a little. He understood her fear and need for control. She’d found it hard to talk to anyone when Robbie died, pushing away her parents until they’d sailed away from their daughter’s anger. Then it was Trent she pushed away, then Kate and so many others.
His pain over losing his kid sister, Aimee, when she’d been in his care wasn’t so far away from Izzy’s pain of losing Robbie. Her carefully guarded control wasn’t so different than his either. He stared blindly toward the TV. Nothing was guaranteed in this world, and when you suffered losing a sibling, the lack of guarantee struck far too close to home.
He should make time this week to go home and check on his parents in Kingsley. It had been a month or so since he showed his face, and they’d be as worried about him as he was about them. His family’s need to look out for one another, to be there for one another was what Trent waited for Izzy to understand. Death could bring people closer. It didn’t have to separate them.
Guilt pressed down on him. Time and again, he went home when things got tough knowing his parents would be there with wise words and reassurance to bolster him.
Izzy didn’t have a family in the traditional sense...but she did have people who cared for her. Deeply.
“And there he goes.”
Will’s voice from across the pool table snapped Trent’s focus to his friends. “You talking to me?”
Will shook his head. “What’s with you, man? I’ve been trying to get your attention for the last couple of minutes. Thought I was going to have to resort to dancing the fandango on the pool table.”
“Now, there’s something I don’t want to see.” Trent smiled. “Ever.”
Vanessa broke the conversation by placing a pitcher of lager and three glasses on the low table beside Will. She wiggled her eyebrows at him. “I wouldn’t mind seeing that.”
Will grinned. “You do know Dave’s over there giving me the evil eye right now? I’d rather keep my manhood intact, so I’ll have to pass.”
Vanessa threw a hasty glance over her shoulder toward the bar. “You know Dave, he wants me happy above everything else.”
Trent laughed. “Sure he does, but there’s happy and there’s happy.”
Vanessa smiled and tapped Trent’s chin. “And Dave keeps me plenty happy as you know. Nothing wrong with ruffling his feathers now and then.” Her gaze turned sober. “In fact, there would be nothing wrong if a woman gave your feathers a proper ruffle one of these days. When am I going to see you and Izzy Cooper in this bar together, huh? It’s about time you patched things up and got on with that special something you two had.”
Trent’s good mood ebbed into obscurity. “If Izzy’s got anything to do with it, that ship has sailed. Permanently.”
Vanessa’s gaze turned sympathetic, which was so much less appealing than her earlier flirtation. “She’s scared of letting herself feel anything after Robbie died. We all know that, but you two are perfect together. I know it and so does everyone else in town. Don’t give up on her, okay?”
Before he could respond, Vanessa walked away, calling out hellos to everyone in her usual bubbly and welcoming way. The crash and thump of balls being tossed onto the table turned Trent’s attention. It seemed half the town sensed Izzy was meant to be with him. Yet what was he supposed to do when she kept refusing him? He liked her a lot—but there was no way he’d beg. It was time he focused on getting on with his life while saving others. Period.
He filled the three glasses with lager and joined Will and Sam at the table. Each of his friends took a drink and Trent held his aloft. “Here’s to another successful day’s work, boys. Long may it continue.”
They raised their glasses in a toast before each taking a hefty slug of beer. Trent sighed. As long as he had an ice-cold beer and his colleagues fit, well and alive, he’d get through. He had to, because there was no way he would ever break his promise to God, or his sister, that he would fight fire for the rest of his life...however long that might be.
Will racked the balls and selected a cue from the selection hung on the wall. As he chalked the end, his gaze locked on Trent. The scrutinizing look his friend gave him alerted Trent to more unwanted advice.
He took another mouthful of his drink and licked the froth from his lip. “Something to say to me, Will?”
Will put the chalk on the table as Sam leaned down in between them and took the first shot. “I have, as a matter of fact.”
The assessing, “know it all” look in Will’s eyes caused Trent’s irritation to unfurl and obliterate the remnants of his previous good mood. “Well, spit it out. It seems I’m the topic of conversation in here tonight.”
“We didn’t like the way you tackled the blaze earlier. You weren’t focused on the rest of us.”
“What are you talking about?” Trent snapped his glare between Will and Sam as he rose from the table. He crossed his arms over his pool cue, his defenses high. “Have you guys been talking about me or something?”
Sam nodded. “You need to get your shit together.”
“I need...” Trent laughed. “I have got my shit together. Didn’t I get two kids out of a second-floor window this afternoon? Did I dream that?”
“You went into that house ahead of the chief’s call. You went in there without looking back to see where the rest of us were. You were on a mission, Trent. Trouble is, I’m starting to wonder if your mission has more to do with you than it does the job.”
Trent tightened his fingers around his cue. “Are you serious?”
“Deadly serious.”
Will stepped between Trent and Sam and placed his hands on each of their shoulders. “Look, just take it down a notch.” He looked at Trent. “What we’re trying to say is, you’re not yourself and over the past few months, you seem to be getting worse. What’s going on?”
Grief and adrenaline blended into a potent mix inside him. If his best friends didn’t understand what losing Robbie...and Izzy...had done to him, then who would?
Trent shrugged Will’s hand from his shoulder and laid down his cue. Lifting his glass, he drained his beer and put the glass on the table. He looked at his friends. “You really don’t get it, do you? I’ve lost people. Not just people who mean something to me, but people who mean something to others too. It’s starting to feel like a regular occurrence. I have to do more. Step up my game. Stop thinking so much and get in there and save them. What if I could’ve gotten to Robbie quicker if I hadn’t waited for the all-clear?”
“That’s bullshit and you know it.” Will’s cheeks darkened as his angry gaze bore into Trent’s. “Robbie was dead on arrival. That falling beam killed him. It wasn’t even the damn fire.”
“Yeah? Well, you try explaining that to his sister. You see how well Izzy takes that summary of the situation, because I sure as hell can hardly bear to look in her eyes and see her pain.”
Will swiped his hand over his face and slumped his shoulders. “Then let her go, man, and maybe you’ll accept we can’t save every single person from a fire. If you don’t accept that, this job is going to screw you up. Sam and me aren’t going to stand by and let that happen. Do you hear me?”
Trent looked from Will to Sam, his heart pumping and his mind racing. Were they right? Was his need to be there for Izzy, to care and protect her, messing with his ability to do his job properly?
The music grew louder and the walls came in closer as the smell and smile of one out-of-reach woman slammed into him. “What I feel for Izzy is no one’s business. Not even yours. If I let you down, if you get hurt on my watch, if I fail in any way when I could have won, then come back at me again. In the meantime, if I have your back, if I’m saving lives, do me a favor and keep your opinions to yourself.”
Trent shouldered through the dense crowd as he made his way to the bar’s double doors and into the fresh evening air. He breathed deep and blinked against the stinging in his eyes as he looked to the star-spangled sky.
If Izzy was so wrong for him, then why did he want to run to her right now rather than get his ass back home where it belonged?
* * *
IZZY STEPPED FROM the cab and paid the fare through the window. She turned and stared at the front office window of Sanford & Co. Having spent the last couple of days researching Richard Crawley, she’d learned there was good money to be made in early-evening entertainment. The guy owned a Ferrari as well as a fifty-foot yacht. She doubted either had a softening effect on Crawley’s inflated ego.
Clearing her throat, she tugged on the hem of her fitted white shirt and smoothed it over the hips of her black skinny jeans before pushing open the door of the agency. The pride she’d felt at finally dragging herself out of Templeton for a few hours faltered as insecurity threatened its return.
Kate might have been right that it was time for Izzy to get out of town for a while, but was Kate right when she’d said Izzy could cope with the visit to a big-city agency? Now she was here, nerves leaped like jumping beans in her stomach.
She breathed deep against her rising panic.
She could do this. She could get Richard Crawley to front the calendar. She would do it for Maya.
Lifting her chin, her ballet flats brushing over the beige carpet tiles, she approached the young woman sitting behind the reception desk.
“Hi. Welcome to Sanford and Co. Can I help you?”
Izzy cleared her throat. “Um, yes. I have an appointment with Mr. Sanford and Richard Crawley. I’m Izzy Cooper.”
“Of course. Nice to meet you. They’re in Mr. Sanford’s office waiting for you. Would you like tea? Coffee? Juice?”
“A coffee would be great, thank you.”
“Latte? Cappuccino? Black? Cream? Mocha?”
Izzy stared. “A latte would be great. Thanks.”
“Fabulous.” The receptionist came around the desk and held out her hand toward a closed door at the back of the office. “They’re just through here. If you’d like to follow me.”
Clutching her portfolio a little tighter, Izzy felt her hand turn clammy. It was just another assignment. No big deal. She was a damn good photographer and she’d met celebrities before. No doubt Richard Crawley would be just the same as any other. All she needed to do was make him feel as though he was the most important aspect of her plans and everything would go swimmingly.
The receptionist knocked on the door and pushed it open. “Mr. Sanford, I have Izzy Cooper here for you.”
“Ah, send her in. Send her in.”
She turned and smiled at Izzy, easing the door wider. “Ms. Cooper.”
“Thank you.” Izzy stepped into the room.
Richard Crawley, and the man she assumed was Mr. Sanford, rose from their chairs in a plush seating area at the far end of the office. They came toward her and Izzy forced her feet forward as Mr. Sanford held out his hand. “Francis Sanford. Nice to meet you.”
Izzy took his hand and smiled. “You too.”
He shook her hand and touched the base of her spine lightly with the other, turning her toward Richard Crawley. “Let me introduce you to Mr. Richard Crawley.”
She met the eyes of the TV host and ex-Templeton resident. With his dark hair and even darker eyes, square jaw and strong build, it would be hard to deny his good looks.
Izzy blushed under his friendly gaze and held out her hand, relieved it was steady. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Crawley.”
“You too. I like your work. And please, call me Richard.” His dark eyes sparkled as they bored into hers, his equally dark tan accentuated under the glare of sunlight through the large window beside them. “You’re a phenomenal photographer. I’m delighted with this chance to work with you.”
Izzy dipped her head, a little of her self-consciousness deteriorating in the face of his kindly stare and infectious smile. “Thank you.”
He nodded and gestured toward a black leather sofa. “Would you like to sit down?”
Izzy eased her hand from his and walked around the low coffee table to sit in an armchair. The men asked for more coffee from the receptionist and returned to the sofa beside her.
Richard Crawley lounged back, crossing his legs so his ankle rested casually on the opposite knee. “So, from what I’ve heard, it’s been a while since you’ve taken any work past the mundane bread-and-butter stuff.”
Mundane bread and butter stuff? I love my work. All of it. Her smile faltered. “Excuse me?”
He looked apologetic. “I mean, it seemed to me you were quite in demand around the Southwest until a few months ago—”
“I still am.”
“Yet you haven’t accepted any work that’s taken you from Templeton in months.”
Izzy swallowed, hating the unwelcome observation. She’d barely left the studio since Robbie died, let alone ventured out of the Cove. “Can I ask how you know that?”
He smiled. “I did a little research...as I’m sure you have too.”
Busted. She coughed. “Well, I hope my being here shows that I am ready to step out again. I’ve had other things going on.” She held his gaze, annoyance straightening her spine. “Personal things.”
He stared for a moment longer before raising his hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. I just assumed someone with your talent would want to stretch her wings a little, that’s all.”
Izzy curled her hands around her portfolio in her lap. “The Cove’s a great town, Mr. Crawley. I love it there.”
Mr. Sanford shifted in his seat. “Shall we talk about the project?”
With an infinite amount of effort, Izzy dragged her gaze from Richard Crawley’s, her spine so rigid, she concentrated on not making any sudden movements for fear of it snapping clean in half. She smiled at Mr. Sanford, ignoring Crawley’s stare as it bored into her temple. “I’ve brought a few examples of my work along with some ideas for what I have in mind for the firefighters’ calendar. These are purely suggestions, so anything either of you don’t like, I’m more than happy to discuss and rethink with you. The guys at the fire station are happy for me to proceed as I see fit, so really it’s a case of whatever you and—” she faced Crawley “—and you, are happy to do.”
He uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, his gaze on her photo examples. “I’m convinced whatever you have in mind will be great. I’m at your command.” He met her gaze. “Honestly. I’ve admired pretty much everything you’ve done from your shots of the Cove, land and seascapes, to celebrities, everything.”
Izzy’s shaky confidence itched for renewal under his seemingly genuine admiration. “I’m flattered. Thank you.”
“I mean it. I’m really looking forward to working with you. Maybe we could discuss the possibility of shooting the entire calendar in the Cove. What do you think?”
Surprised and pleased, Izzy steadfastly pushed away the notion that shooting in Templeton was borne from cowardice. “That would be great.”
The office door opened and the receptionist came in with their coffees. She laid the tray on the table in front of them. “Would there be anything else, Mr. Sanford?”
“No, that’s great. Thank you, Tiffany.”
She nodded and walked from the room, softly closing the door.
Izzy picked up her latte and took a sip. When she raised her eyes, she saw Crawley carefully watching her. She frowned. “Mr. Crawley?”
“Richard, please.” His gaze turned somber. “I was sorry to learn you recently lost your brother.”
The switch from her professional to personal life slammed Izzy’s defenses back into place. She cleared her throat. “Thank you. I miss Robbie every day, but I didn’t come here to talk about my brother.”
A faint blush stained Crawley’s cheeks and he briefly closed his eyes before opening them again. “I apologize.”
Swallowing hard, Izzy turned to Mr. Sanford. “I assume you’re happy if we decide to shoot the calendar entirely on location at Templeton?”
Mr. Sanford nodded, his gaze darting between Izzy and Crawley. “Of course. I’ll leave the order of things to you and Richard. In fact, why don’t we set up a meeting in the Cove as soon as possible? I understand Kate Harrington would ideally like the calendar to be shot by the middle of September so we have the finished product ready for sale at Christmas?”
Izzy nodded. “That’s right.”
Sanford looked to Crawley. “Your schedule is pretty free for the rest of the month. Would you be okay to spend a few days in Templeton next week? How about you, Miss Cooper? Would next week be okay with you?”
Izzy fought back her sudden panic. She could fit anything in at any time. She worked twelve-hour days whenever she needed to. More than that, this shoot was all for a little girl lying in a hospital bed, her parents praying for a miracle to save their daughter. If she, Richard Crawley and Templeton’s firefighters could play a part in making that miracle come true, next week would be perfect.
She nodded. “Absolutely.”
Sanford faced Richard Crawley. “Richard?”
His gaze met Izzy’s rather than his agent’s and she struggled not to fidget under the celebrity’s blatant study. He looked almost remorseful as he ran his gaze over her hair, lower to her eyes. He smiled warmly. “Next week would be great. It’s been too long since I’ve been to Templeton. Is there anywhere in particular you suggest I stay, Miss Cooper?”
Izzy softened. The guy looked genuinely sorry for mentioning Robbie and wanted them to start over. She smiled back. “Considering your celebrity status, I would recommend you stay at the Christie Hotel. It’s one of the best in Templeton and you can trust in their service and discretion.”
His shoulders relaxed beneath his smart black jacket and crisp white shirt. “The Christie it is, then.”
Mr. Sanford stood and Izzy turned to face him.
He held out his hand. “Well, that’s settled. I’ll be in touch as soon as we have Richard booked into the hotel so you’ll know when to expect him.”
“Great.” She shook his hand and then held her hand out to Richard Crawley. “I look forward to working with you.”
His gaze burned with a whisper of flirtation as his fingers curled around hers. “And I you.”
Cursing the sudden warmth at her cheeks, Izzy slid her hand from Crawley’s as Mr. Sanford held his hand out toward the door. Izzy gratefully walked toward it. As the agent reached for the door to open it, he stopped. “When I read about the explosion that killed your brother and was then approached by Ms. Harrington for Richard’s help, I was onboard immediately. I’m confident the extra emotion you’ll bring to the shoot will be invaluable.”
Izzy stilled. “The emotion?”
He flitted his gaze from her to Crawley, and back again. “What I mean to say is, we, Mr. Crawley and I, believe having a local photographer, shooting a local celebrity, will really reunite the community after such a devastating tragedy. It will bring people together, knowing even celebrities as big as—”
“It doesn’t take something like my brother’s death to bring Templeton together, Mr. Sanford. Everything brings us together. You and Mr. Crawley need to be absolutely clear on that. Otherwise the people of Templeton will think celebrities have zero morality when it comes to promotion and making money. It will be up to you and Mr. Crawley to prove differently.”
“I think you misunderstand—”
Richard Crawley raised his hand silencing his agent. “Miss Cooper, Francis doesn’t speak for me. I’ve admired you...your work...for a long time and very much look forward to working with you to help raise money for Maya Jackson. That desire has nothing to do with your loss. We apologize.”
Torn between Richard’s clear sincerity and his agent’s ignorance, Izzy drew in a strengthening breath before nodding. “Then I’ll wait for your call.”
She strode from the room, nodded at the receptionist and continued to walk to the glass front door. Holding her breath, she rounded the corner toward the taxi stand. She opened the passenger door of the cab in front and gratefully slid into the seat. “Templeton Cove, please. The photography studio on Nelson Street.”
He nodded and turned the ignition.
Izzy shifted back in her seat and sighed. The sooner she got home to the safety of the Cove, the better. City life crawled with leeches...some clearly more blood-sucking than others.
CHAPTER FIVE (#u595f1d10-f6f8-533f-8c9f-95b6095984e1)
TRENT STROLLED OUT of the fire station, his body aching from cleaning and polishing the trucks all day. Thankfully, the shift had been entirely uneventful. No fires. No accidents. No cats stuck in trees. The Cove’s firefighters had enjoyed a day of peace, and now all he had planned for the night was to sit in front of the TV with a take-out dinner and a couple of beers.
He walked along the promenade lining Cowden Beach and smiled to see two teams of teenage lads playing a game of soccer on the sand, the goalposts made up of their discarded jackets. Trent wandered over to the iron railing and leaned his forearms on top to watch the boys play, remembering his own time doing the exact same thing in a park not too far from Templeton Cove.
As soon as he could afford it, he’d moved out of parents’ home, leaving them behind...along with the tortured memories of Aimee. Little did he know that no matter how far he ran, his sister’s ghost would follow. As often as he tried to visit his mum and dad, Aimee permeated every room of their family home and his anguish sometimes felt as raw as if the fire had happened yesterday.
The shout of a scored goal jolted Trent from his unwanted memories. He straightened from the railing to head to the fish and chip shop when he spotted Izzy standing on the tumble of rocks at the far side of the beach. Hunkered down, she held her camera to her face with the lens turned to the sea. He followed her line of sight to where she photographed.
The day had been unseasonably gray and the ocean showed its disproval. Waves churned, the sea dark and moody. Now that he’d seen her, the ocean echoed the torment inside him. Should he try to talk to her? Or leave her to work?
She lowered the camera and let it hang on the strap around her neck as she stared into the distance. Even from this far away, the high set of her shoulders and her immobilized stance showed her misery. The need to comfort her lurched in Trent’s chest.
As if she sensed him watching her, she slowly faced him.
He pulled back his shoulders and met her gaze.
She stood still awhile longer before she lifted the camera to her face and aimed the lens directly at him. He fought the need to smile or pull a face to make her laugh, as he would have before Robbie died. Helplessness writhed inside him. What did she want from him in that moment? He had no idea. Not anymore.
Once upon a time, he’d thought Robbie, being Izzy’s brother, had been the obstacle keeping him and Izzy apart, but it hadn’t taken long for Robbie to give Trent the go-ahead to ask out his sister. Little did Trent know how much of a flirt Izzy thought him, rebuking his advances at every turn. Yet now it wasn’t other women keeping Izzy from him, but his firefighting.
How was he supposed to make her understand how Aimee’s death brought forth a need so ingrained and painful inside him that he didn’t know what else to do with his life but fight what killed his sister? Could he ever give up that fight? He very much doubted it.
She carefully climbed down the rocks, one hand steadying her as she made her slow descent. Trent waited, needing to know she was safe on the sand before he could leave.
He wanted to protect his family and loved ones—to never fail someone again as he’d failed his baby sister. In Izzy, he saw his future. Why her, he wasn’t sure he could ever explain, but she mattered. Deeply.
Yet with every day that passed, she slipped further away from him and he wished it didn’t hurt so much.
He briefly closed his eyes before opening them again, ready to walk on. Walk away. He glanced in her direction one last time as she leaped from the final rock, her hand protectively clasped around the camera at her breasts. Looking up, she held up a finger toward him as though asking him to wait for her. Surprise turned to pathetic relief as she jogged across the sand, her long blond hair swinging back and forth in its ponytail. As she got closer, the more Trent tensed.
It had been over a week since he saw her. The beach party was a bigger disaster than he could ever have anticipated.
She came up the steps toward him, tucking some fallen hair behind her ear. He noted the way she tried to give him a smile, but it didn’t quite meet her eyes. “Hi.”
He pushed his hands into the pockets of his work trousers. “Hi.”
Slightly out of breath, she exhaled through pursed lips. “I think I owe you an apology.”
She might as well have said she loved him. The pleasure that jolted through him probably wouldn’t have been any less powerful. He dragged his gaze from hers to look blindly toward a spot over her shoulder. “For what?”
“For the way I spoke to you at the beach last week.” She sighed. “Won’t you at least look at me? You know apologizing doesn’t exactly come as second nature to me.”
He turned. The trepidation and pleading in her gaze teemed with the blush at her cheeks, tugging at his chest. “I get it, Iz. It’s fine.”
“What do you get?”
“You need to blame me for Robbie’s death. You’ll only ever look at me and see a firefighter now. The man who couldn’t save your brother. You’ll never see just me. A guy who really likes you.”
The shouts from the teenagers on the beach, the passing traffic and the odd screech of a seagull punctured the silence. She closed her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
Guilt pressed down on him. The last thing he wanted was to add to her pain. He touched a finger to her chin. “Hey.” He winked. “I can’t be irresistible to every woman in the Cove, can I?” Her smile was slow in coming, but when it did, the sight of it pushed the air from Trent’s lungs. “Apology accepted, okay?”
She nodded. “Okay.”
He glanced toward the row of shops on the opposite side of the road. “I was going to grab some fish and chips. Do you want to join me?”
Hesitation flashed in her eyes before she nodded. “Okay. Could we take them back to my studio? I want to show you something.”
“Sure.”
They walked side by side and Trent fought the need to take her hand, instead fisting his fingers in his pockets.
Twenty minutes later, Trent walked into Izzy’s studio behind her, their wrapped fish and chips in his hands along with two cans of soda. “Do you have plates or shall we eat these straight from the paper?”
“From the paper, of course.” She raised an eyebrow as she shut the door. “You disappoint me. I’ll go as far as providing knives and forks, but that’s it.”
He laughed and stared at her denim-clad ass as she threw the lock in place and checked the sign was turned to Closed. Anticipation churned with the rumbling in his stomach. Her wanting to be alone—and undisturbed—with him could only be a good thing.
He inwardly berated himself as he carried their food over to her workstation. She pushed aside some papers and then walked over to the corner of the room, where she plucked a plaid blanket from the floor. “I used this for a shoot earlier, so it needs washing anyway. It can be our makeshift tablecloth.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
She lifted the blanket and covered half of the enormous worktop before pulling two stools to either side. He slid onto one as she walked to the kitchen at the back of the studio. As sounds of a drawer opening, cutlery clattering and then the drawer slamming shut filtered through the open door, Trent tried to figure out the best way to play out the next minutes, or maybe hours, he’d spend with her.
His friends’ warnings about his distraction on the job poked at his conscience, along with the way everyone but Izzy believed they were meant for one another. He couldn’t keep pushing her. For his own self-preservation, he had to back off and be the friend she needed.
The soft scent of her perfume floated across the room as she emerged from the kitchen. Awareness lifted the hairs on his arms as Trent concentrated on unwrapping their meal. The aroma of fresh, battered fish and fried chips filled the studio and they both gave an appreciative, unified sigh.
They laughed and Trent’s gut wrenched at the fleeting sight of undisguised joy in her eyes. She plucked up a chip. “So, how was your day?” She popped the chip into her mouth. “Anything interesting happen?”
“Nope. It was one of the quiet days firefighters are grateful for.”
“Really?” Her bright blue eyes scrutinized him as though she suspected him of lying. “Do you really mean that? You’re grateful for the quiet days?”
His appetite wavered as the feeling he was being tested pressed down on him. “Of course. We don’t relish the idea of running into a burning building or rescuing people trapped inside a mangled car. It comes with the job...and I hope you understand now why I took the job.”
The skin at her neck moved as she swallowed. “Your sister.”
“Yes. Aimee.” Trent cut into his fish and lifted a chunk into his mouth, trying to act normal despite the sudden and oppressive silence.
She coughed. “It’s kind of sad the biggest thing we have in common is that we’ve both lost a sibling.” Her gaze shadowed. “Aren’t you angry? Don’t you want to lash out at anyone and everyone all the time?”
He picked up his soda can and drank, carefully watching her over the top as he considered his next words. He lowered the can. “The anger is normal and I promise it will pass.”
“I find that hard to believe. I’m always angry. Really, really angry.”
“I know you are.”
Her eyes glazed with unshed tears. “I don’t want to be this way, but I have no idea what to do if I’m not angry. Does that make me crazy?”
“No, it makes you human. Anger is a normal stage of grief, Iz. Don’t give yourself a hard time about it, but at the same time, don’t choose to stay in the anger either. You have to fight it or the grief will win.”
“And you fought back by signing up to be a firefighter?”
“In a way, yes. I wanted to do something to vent my frustration. What better way than fighting the thing that killed Aimee?”
She stared at him, her eyes sad, before she nodded and looked back to her food.
When it seemed she wasn’t going to say anything else, Trent shifted his gaze to the studio walls. The difference in the images on display was as devastating as Izzy’s grief. Cowden Beach, the sea dark, waves crashing, its sands empty of people. He continued to scan the walls, disappointment and helplessness twisting inside. Where were her previous images? The ones full of light, color, romance and fun.
It was clear to see that the images Izzy saw through the lens lately were heartbreakingly different than when Robbie had been alive.
“You need to change your focus.” He ate another bit of fish and purposely continued to stare around the room. “You’ve decided to show Templeton in a completely different light than you ever have before.” He looked at her bowed head as she pushed her food around on the paper. She’d barely eaten any chips, her battered fish untouched. “Is this how you feel?”
She lifted her head, her cold gaze showing she was once again trying to shut him out. “I look through my lens and photograph what I see. I can’t help what’s there.”
“That’s not true and you know it.” He put down his fork. “Your work has never been about what’s in front of you. You can make anything look beautiful. No, mesmerizing, heart-wrenching, yet hopeful. Do you know why? Because that’s who you are. Inside.”
Color tinged her cheeks. “Who I was. Not who am I anymore.”
“It’s a choice, Iz. You can be happy again if that’s what you want to be. Believe me, you might have to force it sometimes, but happiness is out there. You just have to be willing to open up to it.”
“And I guess you’re going to say my happiness could be you? It’s you who will make me happy?”
He swallowed. Apparently, she thought he was that arrogant. “No, not necessarily.”
“I want to be happy, but it’s going to take time.” Her voice softened. “I know you understand...now I know about Aimee.”
“But?”
“But what?” She focused on her food and put another chip into her mouth.
“There’s a but in there somewhere. You aren’t just avoiding me. You’re avoiding life or having fun, and that has nothing to do with me being a firefighter. You need to force yourself to get out there. Eventually, it won’t feel as hard as it does right now.”
“I’m trying.” She gave a wry smile. “I even ventured out of the Cove last week and met with the celebrity Kate wants to front the calendar. He arrives tomorrow.” She ate another chip, took a drink of her soda. “I just hope he doesn’t arrive with an entourage, expecting me to wait on him and them hand and foot.”
The change in subject was obvious, but he wouldn’t push her. “Who is he?”
“Richard Crawley.”
Trent stopped, a chip midway to his mouth. “The game show host? Wow, Kate’s outdone herself once again. I always got the impression the guy was too far up his own ass to give a crap about anyone else. Kid or no kid.”
She smiled softly. “Well, whether or not that’s true, only time will tell. All I know is he seems okay as far as celebrities go. Whether he’ll go for Kate’s idea of stripping off for the calendar remains to be seen.”
“If she convinced me and the rest of the crew to do it, I’m sure she’ll convince a celebrity who lives for the limelight.”
“I suppose so.”
The dejection had returned once more to her tone, and Trent gazed around the studio walls a second time. “You know, I heard a rumor there’s a gallery opening in Templeton in the new year. It would be pretty fantastic if you could get your pictures exhibited there.”
“A gallery? Here in the Cove?”
He met her gaze. “Marian told me.”
“Well, if Marian told you...”
“Exactly. Nothing passes her without being sanctioned and verified. You should go into the bakery and speak to her. She’ll tell you all about it.”
“I don’t know if I’m interested, to be honest.”
Concern flooded through Trent, heavier and darker than before. “News of a gallery opening in Templeton would’ve had you flying off that seat and making plans before Robbie died.” He reached for her hand where it lay on the worktop and squeezed her fingers. “This could be the next step for you. Who knows what opportunities having your work shown in a gallery could do for your career? Jay Garrett’s financing the whole thing as far as I know. Bringing in someone who knows what they’re doing to run the place.”
Skepticism darkened her gaze. “And what does Jay Garrett know about art?”
“He’s Templeton’s richest resident. What does it matter what he knows? As long as he believes in it...in you...that’s all that matters. Having said that...” He took a deep breath and braced himself for the onslaught that was sure to follow. “I don’t think these pictures are going to sell to the tourists, rich or poor, who come to Templeton, do you?”
“Jeez, who died and made you art critic of the year?” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I can’t believe I just said that. I didn’t mean to talk about dying when—”
“Hey. It’s all right.” Trent stood, came around the workstation and took her hands. “Why don’t you speak to Jay? Having something new to focus on will help. Believe me.”
She nodded. “Okay. I’ll think about it.”
“Good.” He ran his gaze over her face. “Let me help you through this, Iz. I’m here for you. Even if it’s only as a friend if that’s what you want.”
She slipped her hands from his and put them in her lap. “Friendship is all I can handle. Anything else is too much right now.”
“Fine, I’ll back off, but promise me you’ll think about the gallery. Your work is too good not to be seen and noticed. Too good to stay in this studio and the homes of the locals. You’ve got talent, Iz. Use it to get you out of this dark place you’re in before it’s too late.”
“I will. I promise.”
He pushed his hands into his pockets, relieved he’d broken partway through her defenses. “So, what was it you wanted to show me?”
She closed her eyes and huffed a laugh before opening them again. “I wanted your opinion on my latest collection.”
“Your latest collect...” He grimaced. “And that will be the pictures I just basically told you I hated, right?”
She smiled. “Right.”
* * *
IZZY TOOK A DEEP BREATH as she approached the opulent Christie Hotel and walked through the revolving door into its spectacular lobby. This place was the very best in town and she could only dream of affording to stay a single night—Richard Crawley had booked his stay for the whole week.
She smoothed her hands over her hips and hoped the long navy skirt, teamed with a sheer white blouse and camisole beneath, was suitable enough for dinner in such a fancy place. Time and again, her fingers had hovered over her phone while she considered canceling, but after receiving a sharp talking-to from Kate, there was no way Izzy would risk Richard Crawley walking away from helping raising funds for little Maya Jackson.
So here Izzy was. Late by fifteen minutes, but here all the same.
For the second time in a week, she’d stepped out of her comfort zone and into an arena that felt as dangerous as a gladiator fight at a Roman amphitheater.
Her high heels clicked on the marble floor as she walked toward the restaurant doors. The place was the epitome of 1930s glamour with gilded mirrors and huge, resplendent flower displays in every corner and atop every plinth. The chandeliers shone, sending rays of light to prism on every reflective and spotless surface.
A uniformed member of the staff opened the restaurant doors as she approached, directing her to a sign that asked guests to wait to be seated. Glancing around the bustling room, Izzy fought the need to turn around and flee before Richard Crawley, or anyone else, saw her. Bursts of conversation and laughter bounced from the walls while a pianist played on a white baby grand in the far corner. What was she doing here?
Her mouth dried and her hands turned clammy.
“Good evening, miss. Have you a table booked with us this evening?”
Izzy jumped and turned to the young, black-suited mâitre d’. “Um, yes, I’m here to meet with Richard Crawley. I’m a little late, I’m afraid.”
“Ah yes. Mr. Crawley is at your table. If you’d like to follow me?”
Izzy forced her shoulders back, fighting her nerves and insecurity. She’d had hundreds of meetings with moneyed businessmen and visiting tourists happy to spend their holiday savings on her paintings. This meeting with Richard Crawley would be no different. He was here to talk about Maya and the calendar. Not Izzy’s life. Not Robbie.
Business she could do.
Richard rose to his feet as she approached, his smile wide and his dark brown eyes shining as warmly as they had the first time they met. “Miss Cooper.” He held out his hand. “It’s great to see you again.”
Izzy smiled and relaxed her shoulders. It was easy to see his appeal and why he was so successful at his job. His face was open, kind and, she was reluctant to admit, trustworthy. She took his hand. “Thank you. You too.”
He gestured to the chair on the other side of the small table. “Have a seat. What would you like to drink?”
She turned to the mâitre d’. “A glass of Sauvignon Blanc would be lovely, thank you.”
He nodded. “Of course. Suzie will be your waitress for this evening. I’ll ask her to bring your wine and the menus. Enjoy your evening.”
He walked away and Izzy lifted her gaze to Richard.
He shifted back into his seat. “So, how are you?”
“Good. You?”
“Very well.” He smiled and glanced around the restaurant. “Feels kind of surreal to be back in the town I grew up, but kind of nice too.”
Izzy relaxed further and placed her clutch purse at her feet. “How long ago did you live here?”
“A good ten years ago now. My parents moved to the city for my father’s job. It’s strange how I’ve never been back since.”
“Were you happy here?”
“For a while, but I was barely into my teens before I was itching to get out and spread my wings. Small towns suit some people, but definitely not me.”
As silly as it was, his dismissal of small towns and Templeton rankled, but Izzy forced a smile. “Well, for me, the Cove is most definitely where I belong.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Never say never. Things change...people change.”
Uncomfortable with the knowing tone in his voice despite being aware of the huge changes to her personality lately, Izzy cleared her throat and laced her hands on the table. “Shall we talk about the calendar?”
His gaze lingered on hers before he leaned forward, mirroring her posture. “Sure. How’s it going?”
“Really well. I spoke with Kate earlier and she’s drawn up a schedule of when each of the volunteer firefighters will be available. It’s now just a case of me deciding what to feature for each month. For the cover, we thought it would be a great shot to have you and the firefighters together.”
“Sounds good...” He grimaced. “As long as they’re not all built and buff and I end up looking like a stick between them.”
Izzy laughed. Richard Crawley was at least six feet tall, and the width of his chest gave the impression that the gym wasn’t exactly nonexistent in his schedule. “I’m pretty confident you’ll give them a run for their money.”
He lifted an eyebrow, his eyes glinting with flirtation. “Glad to hear you say so.”
Her cheeks heated and she turned from his gaze as a waitress approached carrying Izzy’s wine on a tray in one hand and two leather-bound menus in the other. She placed the menus in front them and the drink in front of Izzy. The young girl smiled. “Your wine, Miss Cooper.” She looked at Izzy and Richard in turn. “I’ll be back to take your order shortly.”
Reaching for her glass, Izzy took a fortifying sip and fought the nerves that jumped into her stomach. Richard was handsome, charming and effortlessly charismatic. The combination made her nervous when she would so rather be at home wrapped in a blanket and watching an old movie, or else working at the studio.
He opened his menu. “Shall we go for starters as well as mains?”
Richard scanned the menu, his brow slightly furrowed and his concentration somber. She needed to stop thinking about her need to be home alone and get fully on board with the project or risk letting Kate down, not to mention Maya.
Mustering her confidence, Izzy looked at the menu. “Well, as I’m at the Christie and haven’t had the chance to step inside the place before, I think we should take full advantage.”
He laughed. “I agree. The bill’s on me, so I want you to have whatever you’d like.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean for you to pay—”
“I want to. Please. I’m an old-fashioned kind of guy and like to treat a lady to dinner...if that’s okay with you?”
How could she refuse when his tone was so friendly and gentle? This wasn’t a date. It was a business meeting and the man was being polite and attentive. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Now, what will it be?”
The evening passed with a steady stream of conversation about everything from the calendar, to their childhoods, to Richard’s time in Templeton as a young boy to his current work as a TV presenter.
Their starters were delicious, but it was only as they came toward the end of their mains that Izzy realized just how much she had relaxed. Her plate clean, she set down her knife and fork and sighed. “That was amazing. Thank you for inviting me here tonight. I’ve really enjoyed it.”
“Good.” He smiled. “I couldn’t help worrying I’d never see you again after my and Francis’s insensitive words about your brother. I can only apologize and promise it won’t happen again.”
Izzy held his apologetic gaze as insecurity threatened once more. For an hour or so, she’d been in someone’s company who’d made her forget about Robbie. Richard had made her smile, even if laughter had been a step too challenging. Now the guilt over how she’d enjoyed herself and might be able to move on one day came back heavy and unwanted, making her want to flee from the restaurant.
She picked up her glass and drained the remainder of her wine. “Of course you’d see me again. The only reason we’re here is Maya. Nothing is about you or me...and certainly not my brother.”
“I couldn’t agree more. What happens outside of the calendar is no one else’s business.”
Izzy frowned. “Outside of the calendar?”
“Yes.” He put down his knife and fork and touched his napkin to his mouth, a slight blush coloring his cheeks. “I was hoping you might show me around town while I’m here. I’m sure Templeton must’ve changed since I was a teenager. I’d rather have your company than see things alone. What do you think?”
Indecision battled. Her mind turned to Trent and his unwavering insistence to be there for her...to be with her. Yet she’d made no promises to him. Had protected herself from his yearnings for both their sakes. When Trent had kissed her at the beach, her entire world tipped on its axis—his sexual need matched her dormant desires with dangerous ferocity. She couldn’t be with Trent and guarantee the safety of her heart, but to spend some time with Richard, an easy, amicable, friendly man who would be in the Cove for barely a week? That could mean a few hours of release and enjoyment without any complication or risk of further pain.

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