Fireman Daddy (Crescent Cove 8.50)

“Well that’s me.”

She shot out of the chair. “The hell it is.” She dropped her cigarette and stomped it out with her thick-soled black shoes.

I covered my face with my hands. “Dios mio.”

“Erica?”

“You’re going to get us into trouble.” I rushed to the back door, propped it open, and waved my hand against the smoke, but it was no use.

“Still such a good girl. Always following the rules.” Rita grabbed her purse and breezed by me to the back parking lot.

Jacob filled the doorway. His impressive shoulders barely fit through the door. I didn’t remember him being so…beefy when we were kids. He’d always been tall, if a little bit on the beanpole end. Between basketball and football, he’d been the sweet-natured jock who was friends with everyone and yet truly close to no one.

A little sliver of unease hit me. Where had that thought come from?

He narrowed his gaze. “Since when did you smoke?”

“Not me. Rita was here.”

“That makes more sense.” He tossed my little mesh bag at me. “Let’s get this done, Freckles.”

I caught it and sighed. Today was not turning out how I’d imagined.

I pulled on my shoes and followed him out. Sure enough, he had a clipboard this time around. I was pretty sure most fire code agents used a tablet. Then again, Crescent Cove was a small town. Maybe they didn’t have that kind of technology in the budget.

He made tsking sounds as he walked around the bar. He checked outlets and vents, and he even carried out a small stepladder from beside the front door he must have brought back in with him. He kept humming to himself as he marked things off.

I followed him around, my blouse sticking to my back with every step. There was no air circulation in this godforsaken place.

I wasn’t sure if checks were good or bad. The more his brow furrowed, the more I went with the shit column.

By the time he put the damn clipboard down, my shoulders were aching from tension.

Jacob tucked his pen behind his ear. “Well, you’re not quite to full shut down, but there’s a lot you’re going to have to fix before you sell this place.”

“Can’t I sell it without the fixes?”

“You can.” He propped his fist on his hip. “You’d take a helluva loss. If you made some simple repairs, you’d come out further ahead for sure.”

“Is that a professional opinion? Aren’t you supposed to be impartial?”

He dropped the clipboard on the table. “Look, Freckles. I loved this place. The Cove doesn’t have too many bars that aren’t overrun by townies looking to let off steam. Station 49 took to this place over the last year. We loved Sharkey, and I want to make sure you’re taken care of.”

My heart pounded. “Why?”

“We take care of our own. Sharkey thought you were good enough to take on this place, so I guess we have to as well.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “Gee, thanks.”

He stepped closer to me, and his spicy woodsmoke scent filled my head. “Besides, you used to be one of my closest…” His gaze dropped to my mouth. “Friends. I take care of my friends.”

I stepped back and bumped into a chair. I tamped down the urge to growl at him. I hadn’t been that girl in a damn long time. I didn’t lose my temper and I wouldn’t be baited by him. “I appreciate that, Jacob.”

“Just Jake these days, Freckles.”

I poked him in the chest. “Stop calling me that.”

He grinned down at me. “No can do. Especially when they’re burning through your carefully applied face paint.”