The Hotter You Burn (The Original Heartbreakers 2)

She prayed he needed more time, even daydreamed about him showing up after she secured a room at the Strawberry Inn—for double the usual rate, since the owner hated her and apparently had a “bitch” fee—but he never did that, either.

In the ensuing days, she left her room only to apply for jobs. Style Me Tender and Swat Team 8 weren’t bringing in enough revenue to justify a new hire, and Two Farms and Strawberries and More grocery—both of which had advertised for help—had turned her down flat.

As the days continued to pass, her savings began to dwindle. She realized she had a choice to make. Stay another week at the inn, without food, before finding a new place to set up camp, or find a new place to set up camp now and eat for a few more weeks. She opted for the latter and finally found a place on Dane Michaelson’s two-hundred-and-fifty-acre ranch.

She had to spend precious money buying a new tent, which sucked because sleeping on the hard nylon floor after basking in the decadence of the RV for so long truly drove home the depths to which she’d fallen from grace. Once again she had to boil pond water to drink and wash with an outdoor hose.

But really, the times she would spot Beck in town with a beautiful woman on his arm, and he would look right through her, those were the times that hurt most. He’d written her out of his life completely. Just. Like. That.

If he could dismiss her so easily, she was better off without him... And yet still she cried herself to sleep every night. And when a cold front blustered in, her tears actually froze on her cheeks. She ended up spending the rest of her earnings on a sleeping bag, a wool coat and flannel socks.

If she wanted to eat again, she’d have to set traps or find a job, and fast, but only one other place was hiring. The inn she’d vacated needed another maid. Would Carol Mathis, the owner, be willing to give her a chance?

Harlow made the hour-long walk to Main Street, noting multiple Happy Halloween signs and posters for the upcoming Berryween Fall Festival. Soon the entire city would be transformed into a spook-lovers’ paradise. Booths would be erected, each one decorated with some type of haunted theme. Games would be played, food would be sold and devoured. She wondered if Beck would bring a date, maybe even win the stupid woman a stupid stuffed teddy bear.

Tears filled Harlow’s eyes.

And, oh, crap! There were Brook Lynn and Jessie Kay, out delivering breakfast sandwiches to the locals. Her stomach performed eager, hungry flips, paining her. She darted into a shadowed alley. The girls had asked Virgil and Mr. Rodriguez about her—she’d heard them—but she wasn’t ready to talk to them. Maybe they’d curse her, maybe they’d support her. Either way, she was still too raw to deal.

She wished she could pour her emotions into her art, but she’d left her paints behind.

A waft of smoke billowed in her direction and tickled her throat. Coughing, she turned and met the gaze of Daniel Porter, who was in the process of stubbing out his cigarette.

“Harlow Glass,” he said with a nod.

“Daniel. Uh, hi.” The last time she’d seen him, she’d been a drunken mess. “You’re looking well.”

He didn’t offer the requisite “You, too,” even though it would have been polite. And she wasn’t hurt by that. Not anymore. Because of Beck, she’d been introduced to true pain. A snub like this? Not even a blip.

Though Daniel had been in town for several weeks, he’d continued to cut his dark hair military-short, and even in the shadows his features appeared chiseled from stone. His shoulders were broad, his chest ripped underneath the tightness of his shirt, and he had several tattoos peeking out from the sleeves.

“Look, I’m glad I ran into you,” she said. “I’d like to apologize for my behavior as a kid. You were—are—a beautiful human being, and I had no right to say otherwise.” He’d had a problem with acne, but who hadn’t back then? “It’s not like I’m perfect or have any right to judge. You should see my chest. I have so many scars I make Frankenstein look pretty.”

He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Sure. I’ll take a look at your chest.”

She sputtered, and a smile teased the corners of his mouth.

“You finally score that Beck guy or what?”

“Yeah, I did, but it didn’t do me any good.” Did Daniel actually care or was he asking because he’d heard about Jessie Kay’s night with Beck? “I didn’t steal him from Jessie Kay, if that’s what you’re implying. They were already over when I met him.”

He went still. “What do you mean? Did she date him?”

Oh, crap. No one had told him? “I’m, uh, not going to comment. Jessie Kay is my friend, she’s said so a couple of times now, and—” Crap, crap, crap. His expression was only growing darker.

“You’ll have to excuse me.” He stormed away.

What have I done?

She wanted so badly to call Jessie Kay, but she’d left her phone in the RV, knowing she wouldn’t be able to afford the monthly payments. A quick peek revealed the Dillon sisters were gone. Dang it! She raced to the inn.

Carol, an attractive woman with salt-and-pepper hair, hazel eyes and the lined skin of someone who’d lived a happy life, manned the counter, the landline at her ear.

She noticed Harlow and scowled, saying into the phone, “Let me call you back after I’ve taken care of a sudden cockroach problem.” She slammed the phone into the receiver. “I thought we’d gotten rid of you.”