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The New Guy In Town
The New Guy In Town

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The New Guy In Town

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“You don’t trust Des Parker?”

“I don’t know him.” There was a hint of disapproval in his voice.

That was an interesting negative reaction to someone he’d never met. “He’s a good guy.”

“Jury’s out on that. All I know is you were pretty smoky when you got home last night.”

“That would sound so much better if you’d said I was smokin’ hot.”

Sam didn’t look at her but the corners of his mouth curved up. “You’ll do. And I’m here to make sure you’re not literally smokin’.”

He navigated the winding two-lane road in a confidently masculine way that made her stomach quiver in that feminine way it did when fascinated by a guy. Admittedly that reaction was just plain stupid, but, sadly, too real. The best thing she could say about the inconvenient feeling was that it took her mind off worrying about what condition her home was in.

But as they got closer to the staging area, visibility was reduced because of smoke hanging in the air and it got noticeably thicker every mile. The wind wasn’t as bad, but it was still a factor in battling the blaze.

“I heard firefighters are coming from as far away as California and Oregon to help put this thing out.” Sam glanced over.

“That’s the rumor.”

“They’ll get it contained.”

“Sure doesn’t feel that way right now,” she said.

“It won’t burn forever.”

“You can’t know that.”

“Wow.” Sam glanced over again. “I didn’t take you for a glass-half-empty kind of person.”

“It’s hard to be chipper and perky and optimistic when everything you have in the world might be gone.”

“I know. But you have to stay strong.”

“Says who?” She was feeling angry and resentful and looking to take it out on someone. It was his bad luck that he was in the line of fire, no pun intended. “Do you have any idea what it feels like to face the possibility of losing everything? Even with insurance there will be out-of-pocket expenses that I can’t afford. You would only have to write a check. Chump change.”

“I admit that having access to more resources makes the prospect less daunting.”

Well, pickles. She’d expected him to be all sunshine and unicorns, not agree with her. Now what was she going to argue with him about?

“So, I met Kiki.”

“Did you?” The corners of his mouth curved up.

“Yes. When I delivered the breakup bouquet.”

“I see.”

Faith wanted more of a reaction so she could push back on something because she was really in the mood to push back. “Don’t you want to know what my impression of her was?”

He shrugged. “Since I won’t be seeing her again, discussing it is like shutting the barn door after the horse got out.”

“I can see why you’d think that, but you could look at it like a debrief. Analyze what went wrong in order to not make the same mistake.”

He nodded slowly. “That logic would be sound if I considered her a mistake.”

“And you don’t?”

“Look at it this way.” He thought for a moment. “When you buy a dress, you try it on. See if it fits and that you like how it feels. That’s how I think of dating.”

“Like trying on a pair of jeans?” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“Yes.”

“So Kiki was nothing more than a fitting?”

“In a way.” His tone was unrepentant.

“I found her to be very pretty and nice. It seems so wrong to categorize her like that.”

“How else are you going to know what works?” he defended.

“Give someone a chance. Two dates is like making a decision on pants when you only try on one leg.”

“Why risk trying on the other leg and becoming emotionally attached?”

“Oh. You’re one of those,” she said, nodding knowingly.

“What?” He glanced over, obviously fighting a grin. “You make me sound like a nonorganic vegetable at a health food convention.”

Faith laughed, something that had seemed a long shot a few minutes ago. “I’ll put a finer point on it. You’re one of those men who is afraid of commitment.”

“On the contrary. I’m not afraid, just choosing not to participate.”

“That’s just spin.” Her words challenged even though she remembered his adamant admission that marriage wasn’t for him. “You’re afraid. Admit it.”

“No.” He made a left turn into an open area with heavy equipment, fire trucks and cars. “And we’re here. Not a moment too soon.”

Faith was jolted back to reality. Thanks to Sam, for a few minutes she’d managed to put aside the crisis hanging over her.

They exited his luxury SUV and headed for the volunteer area. She was put to work serving food again. Sam unloaded cases of bottled water from a truck and stacked them. Another truck arrived with ice and he unloaded bags, then filled insulated chests and tubs with it to cool down the water.

When Faith could sneak a glance at him she took full advantage. Watching Sam Hart work up a sweat was pure cotton candy for the eyes. And as distractions went, the sight of him was effective and exactly what a worried girl needed. She imagined he looked all CEO powerful behind his office desk in the building he owned. After today, she knew for a fact that he was pretty darn drool-worthy doing manual labor. And speaking of eye candy, a peek at him without a shirt might satisfy her sweet tooth.

When there was a break in the action, he grabbed two bottles of cold water and wandered over. He opened one and handed it to her.

“Thanks.” She took a long drink then pressed her lips together, blotting the excess moisture. She noticed a muscle in his jaw jerk as he watched her and wondered about that but decided to ignore it. “I needed this. It’s hot.”

“There’s an understatement.” His voice was hoarse, probably from the smoky air. “And those guys fighting the fire have on all that heavy gear.”

“I can’t even imagine how they do it,” she agreed. “So you think Des picked a safe place for the volunteers to be?”

“Yes.” He shrugged. “It’s a major fire and there’s a lot of smoke. Phoebe is going to have a lot to say to both of us.”

“She might not call you out. Right now you’re her hero. Speaking of that—” Faith spotted a familiar firefighter walking toward them “—here comes one of our bravest now. Hi, Des.”

“Hey, Faith.”

Sam frowned at the man who stopped beside them. But he held out his hand. “We haven’t met, but I’ve heard good things about you. I’m Sam Hart.”

The other man took the offered hand. “Desmond Parker. Nice to meet you. I’ve heard about you, too. Welcome to Blackwater Lake. That new office building of yours is impressive.”

“Can’t complain. Pretty boring compared to what you do. You’ve got a tough gig right now, though. How’s it going?”

“Frustrating.” He took off his helmet and dragged his fingers through his sweaty, matted dark hair. “The wind is still making it a challenge to keep up with the fire. It keeps jumping around. The conditions are unpredictable.” An expression slid into his eyes when his gaze met hers and it looked an awful lot like pity.

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