Page 21 of Rainbow Kisses

“Jeez, one tiny fire, and no one lets you forget it.”

“Well, you did put it on the front page of the paper.”

“It was a slow news week, what can I say?”

I laughed at one of the people I loved most in this town. Erin had moved here about four years ago, and we’d hit it off immediately. Our type A personalities fit together like burgers and fries.

She’d come to help her grandfather, Will, shut down the small weekly newspaper and radio station he’d inherited from his grandfather. She’d ended up staying to help Will run it,very much over her parents’ objections. They didn’t talk much anymore.

More recently, she’d bought the tiny café next to the radio station/newsroom and had taken over the bakery herself. There’d been a learning curve. And there had been that one small oven fire that hadn’t entirely been her fault. But, damn, the woman’s baked goods were delicious. Between Crack One Open—I still thought the name needed work—and reporting for the newspaper and station, the woman never stopped.

Too bad she hadn’t been able to make her business profitable. Yet. Between the diner just down the street and the Dunkin’ Donuts a few miles away near the interstate interchange, there was tough competition.

“I don’t think I have anything tonight.” I grabbed my planner off the corner of my desk and flipped it to this week. I hadn’t checked my schedule yet today, and sometimes I forgot I’d added something to my calendar. Not often, but it had been known to happen. “Looks like I’m free. What’s up?”

“I’ve got an idea.”

When other people heard Erin say that, they sometimes ran in the opposite direction. I’d literally seen one of the local handymen cross the street to miss her. And Erin was so damn sweet, she didn’t even notice they were trying to avoid her. She just ran after them, strawberry-blonde hair streaming out behind her and green eyes blazing while she smiled and called out to them.

“Please tell me this doesn’t have to be done until after the carnival because my plate is full until then. And Christmas is only a week away.”

“You love all this shit with the holidays and don’t deny it, because I’m not the one who put up their office Christmas tree on November first.”

My gaze slid to said tree, twinkling in its perch of honor on its stand in the corner next to the window overlooking the arena. All the offices in the building looked out over the playing area, which meant if I walked over there now, I could watch Brian skate.

I’d been really good so far and hadn’t moved from my chair. But my legs were literally twitching with the need to get up and stand by the window like Liv Tyler inArmageddon, hyperventilating as she looked out over the control room. Probably not the best analogy, because her father had just given up his life to save the world and I was just going to watch a hot guy skate, but anyway.

“Don’t diss my tree.”

“Then come over after work and let me run this idea past you.”

I gave an exaggerated sigh, my smile spreading. “You know I will.”

“Oh good. I really think you’re going to love this one. Okay, don’t want to keep you tied up at work. See you tonight.”

I didn’t have time to respond. She was just gone.

And now my concentration was completely blown, though I couldn’t blame it all on Erin. Usually, I could ignore the faint noise from the ice. I was so used to it by now that it didn’t even register. Most days. Today was not one of those days.

I could barely hear the sound of skates gliding over the ice, or the tap of stick slapping puck, but now I got up and walked over to the window.

Brian stood at center ice, a bucketful of pucks scattered next to him. He wasn’t wearing a helmet and every time he took a shot, he stopped to shake his unusually long, for him anyway, hair out of his face.

He’d always had a hard shot, and that hadn’t changed in the time he’d been off the ice. He hadn’t lost any muscle, either,if the way he looked in his gear was any indication. He looked massive, a solid wall of muscle?—

“Rain, you here?”

I turned away from the window with a gasp, the sound of my dad shouting down the hall scaring the crap out of me. As always.

This time, I didn’t even bother to yell back, I just gritted my teeth and stomped down the hall.

“If I didn’t miraculously appear every time you yelled, what would you do?” I asked as I walked through the door of his office, not surprised to see Rowdy there. I smacked my brother on the back of the head, just because I could, as I sat in the chair next to his in front of my dad’s desk. Rowdy returned the love by ruffling my hair.

I thought about sticking my finger in his ear, but Dad gave us the look, and we both resisted the urge to continue tormenting each other. It was our love language.

“You got some time to talk now?” Dad looked at me. “Something I want to hash out with the two of you.”

My spidey senses tingled, because my dad didn’t typically sound like this. Like he had a problem and no answer. Dad always had an answer for everything.

---