Light Her Fire (Private Pleasures 2)

A deputy came over carrying Melody’s purse and shoes, oxygen, and two bottles of water. Josh waved the oxygen away, got to his feet, and accepted the water. The first sip was heaven on his throat. “I’m okay.”

The younger man nodded. “Glad to hear that, Chief. The sheriff’s on his way. He wants to take your statement, personally, because there’s more than one case involved, but Rusty’s already confessed to setting this fire, as well as the one at the high school, and the Dumpsters, and Buchanan’s barn. The way he figured things, he was due for the chief’s slot, and if he could make you look bad, make himself look like a hero, and cause enough friction between you and Buchanan, you’d move on or get fired, and he’d advance. So he set the fires, and was always sure to be quick to the scene so he could have a hand in putting them out…maybe question your instincts while he was at it. But your instincts turned out to be dead-on, so that part blew up on him.”

Josh downed more water and then nodded, since the deputy seemed to want a response. Satisfied, the man continued. “Rusty chose the first two targets to cause trouble with Buchanan, but went for the high school when he realized you suspected Justin as the arsonist. The cottage became tonight’s target because he heard you’d bought the property. He hoped burning your house down would be the final insult, but says he didn’t know you were inside when he lit it up. I don’t think he intended to jeopardize your life.”

“He helped get me out.”

Now it was the deputy’s turn to nod. “Least he could do, though from what he said, Ms. Merritt here gets the save.” He looked at the cottage, where the team doused the smoldering structure. “Wish we could say the same for your house, but after tonight, I’m afraid it needs a bit of work.”

Josh shrugged. “It already needed work. Saves Longfoot some demo.”

“I guess that’s one way to look at it. Sheriff will be here soon.” With that, the deputy took the oxygen and headed for the truck.

Josh turned to Melody. “Surprise.”

She laughed. “I am surprised.” Then her expression sobered. “I’m also sorry. I shouldn’t have run away and shut you out when you said you wanted to move back to Cincinnati. I was afraid to compromise, because…well…for a lot of stupid reasons. Anyway,” she rushed on before he could apologize for creating a situation she wanted to run from. “I brought something with me tonight, too.” She crouched and retrieved a small rectangular cardboard box from her purse, then stood and handed it to him. He took the lid off and stared down at the “Get Lucky at Boone’s” magnet he’d given her on their first date.

“I did get lucky at Boone’s. Luckier than I ever would have guessed when I wheeled my cart over and propositioned you. I found the man of my dreams. When you gave this to me, I stuck it on my fridge, but it turns out this sucker can stick to any metal surface, because of the magnet. From here on out, think of me like a magnet where you’re concerned. No matter where you go, I’ll stick. I promise.”

“I’m not going anywhere. I shouldn’t have accepted Warren’s offer without discussing it with you. If I had talked it over with you first, I might have realized I didn’t even want the damn job.” He tightened his arms and pulled her close.

She scrunched her brow. “Why is that?”

He pulled her close and lowered his head until their lips brushed.

“Bluelick, I have all the action I can handle right here. With you.”

Epilogue

Melody steered her car into the newly laid gravel driveway and parked in front of the cottage. She would have taken a moment to appreciate the freshly painted white shingles and budding magnolias in the yard, but too many pounds of baby weight stressed her bladder. She hefted her purse onto her shoulder, grabbed her shopping bag, and ran into the house—to the extent a nine-months-pregnant woman could run.

Her purse and bag hit the freshly planked floors in the entryway, and she beelined to the powder room tucked under the stairs. The smell of paint and floor varnish stung her nose. She shut the door, dragged her oversize underwear down, and thanked God for the sturdy porcelain fixture Tyler’s crew had installed mere days ago.

When she finished, she noticed the Post-it stuck to wall directly in front of her. Josh’s handwriting stared back at her. It read, “Backyard. Soon as you’re done.”

Well, damn. She rubbed her distended abdomen as the pressure that had been bothering her all afternoon took an encore. She hated to be predictable. Then again, she just might qualify as the most unpredictable thing on earth. Nine months pregnant, two false labors, mean as a hornet’s nest, and ready to explode at any second. To top it all off, she was horny as hell. And the man with the magic tongue wanted her to come to the yard. She washed her hands quickly and headed to the newly installed French doors just off the kitchen.

She stepped out onto the deck and stopped short. Josh stood in the middle of the yard, twisting a screwdriver into the joint of an elaborate cedar play set.

“Oh, my lands…” She trundled down the deck steps and approached the structure. “What have you done?”

He straightened and grinned at her. “You mentioned a swing.”

Swing? There was a net ladder, a twisty slide, a playhouse, a hammock, and two swings, including a baby swing. “Josh, put the screwdriver down and relax.” She laid a hand across her straining abdomen and rode out another wave of pressure. “He won’t be able to take advantage of any of this for many, many months.”

“She,” he corrected, and continued driving the final screw home.

“He or she won’t be ready for this right away.”

He finished the task and tossed the screwdriver onto the ground. “We could try it out first. His eyes glinted and he walked to the hammock. “It can handle up to three hundred pounds. I calculate if you lean your weight into it, and I come up behind you…”

A complicated mess of desire and affection stormed through her. He’d installed a swing set, for God’s sake. “This is really”—oh God, more pressure—“what you want?”

He walked to her, wrapped his arms around her enormous frame, and kissed her as if she weren’t big as a hippo and prickly as a hedgehog. “Bluelick, this is exactly what I want. The white cottage, the swing set, the small town, this baby, and you. What else can I do to prove it to you?”

She had a couple ideas, involving the hammock, but before she could mention one, a band tightened around her belly. Th

is time it was for real, and a gasp served as her reply as she doubled over.