Page 37 of Playing With Fire

But this was the job, Jodi told herself robustly. She slipped on her best jeans, a stone-washed boyfriend style which she wasn’t yet ready to admit were completely the wrong cut for someone with womanly curves, and added a crisp white shirt under a crimson wool jacket long enough to hide the baggy jeans.

She was giving up her treasured post-publication free weekday to accompany Ricky to the first of his meetings with the mothers’ groups because she was a professional. Didn’t mean she couldn’t channel some casual chic.

Jodi hummed the tune to “Uptown Girl” as she braided her hair and then stuffed The Monitor’s second-best camera and her notebook in her shopping tote.

A couple of snaps of hunky firefighter meets adorable babies and beaming moms, and she would be done. And her physical presence would head off any unfortunate interactions between Silas and Ricky. The twins, if for some reason not at school, could be kept well out of range of any inquisitive questions.

Confident that she was prepared for any potential pitfalls, Jodi strode down the wide street, enjoying the crisp air on her face. Another drop of snow had been and gone, lingering only in the shadiest corners. The ground itself was cooling beneath her sturdy boots, and Thanksgiving and then Christmas beckoned. Another year was slipping by.

Jodi breathed in the pine-scented air. Thirty minutes to write a few paragraphs and upload the story, and then she was free. Free to do laundry, catch up on social media, maybe a session at the beauty salon. So long as Gramps didn’t call, needing an errand downtown, or Jaylee didn’t suddenly require a babysitter for some “urgent” engagement.

Her free day did not require Ricky Sharp’s presence to make it worthwhile.

Just as Jodi reached the front door of the rectory, she heard the low rumble of heavy tires on crumbling bitumen edges.

Ricky pulled up in a gleaming town council utility truck. He leaped out, waved hello and began unloading cardboard boxes.

Jodi tamped down a delicious frisson of joy. She mustered up a smile that she hoped conveyed purely professional pleasure at his arrival.

Ricky looked relaxed. A long way from the intense, almost wounded man she remembered from those awful moments outside the hall.

Even the ghastly brown jacket, stretching across his broad shoulders, and the fish logo, looked good on him. The military brush cut was now a distant memory, and he brushed tousled dark waves away from his forehead as he worked.

“Good morning.” Jodie’s tone was level. He nodded, and she felt his eyes briefly take in her outfit. “This is my morning off,” she said defensively.

“Then I owe you,” he said gravely. His gaze locked onto her face and Jodi reluctantly met his eyes. “And you owe me too—”

Jodi opened her mouth but closed it again. She settled for a raised eyebrow.

Ricky dumped the boxes on the hall stand where they teetered dangerously on a pile of real estate junk mail. Shrieks and laughter came from the family room and kitchen area, along with the smell of coffee.

“My public awaits.” His warm smile belied the serious expression in his eyes.

Yes, he was still there, thought Jodi. The man she had glimpsed, with the burns on his hands and the scars on his heart.

Ricky glanced inside the crowded room. He spoke quickly. “But as I was saying, you owe me the chance to explain why I was talking to the twins on Friday night. And you were quite right, I shouldn’t have spoken to them alone like that. I apologized to Silas, and we agreed that any further conversation would take place with him present.”

Jodi felt some of the stiffness in her shoulders ease. “Fine. Good,” she said shortly.

At that moment, little Jaime came flying around the corner, and Ricky scooped her up with one arm before she tumbled down the front steps. “Whoa, little one!”

Jaime paused. She looked solemnly into the eyes of her rescuer before wriggling furiously to get down. He bent down and steered her back into the house with a pat on her diapered bottom.

Hattie appeared, her strained expression disappearing as Jaime cannoned into her legs. “You little monkey.” Hattie scooped the child up. “I found her!” she called over her shoulder.

Joshua appeared, his pale, blunt features soft with relief. He took the little girl, who nuzzled his neck and gurgled with laughter.

“Hey buddy,” said Ricky mildly. Josh’s face instantly transformed into the dumb insolence which Jodi knew he did so well. “No school today?”

Ricky’s tone was still conversational, but Josh was having none of it. He stalked away, the little girl clinging to his shoulder. Jaime waved a chubby fist.

Hattie huffed out a breath. “Oh dear.” She threw an apologetic look at Ricky. “It’s okay, he’s not cutting school. Josh and Judah have an agreement with the principal that they attend face-to-face classes most afternoons, and Silas and I homeschool them for the rest of the time. They’ve had a bit of trouble fitting into the routine, you might say.”

Jodi’s heart sank like a holed dinghy. She glanced at Ricky, who met her gaze steadily.

See, he seemed to say. I told you that those boys were prime suspects, and I was right.

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