Page 12 of Up In Smoke

“I'm a firefighter.” He took the bait. Or so she hoped. “I know a lot about a lot of fires. It doesn't mean anything.”

But why would he say that last phrase if it didn’t actually mean something?Before he could ask her something else, she tried again. “You know, in a lot of cases, it's a firefighter who’s the arsonist.”

That seemed to shut him up, but she was still so irritated. She'd come to Redemption to escape everything in her past—the things she didn't want to remember, the heartaches, and the lies that she wanted to leave behind. The first life she’d lived was not on her own terms, then she’d had a second life that she’d screwed up to hell and back. This one was her third life, and it was holding together just fine except for a house fire. To have Luke start picking at it was more than she could handle.

She was also dealing with the fact that Luke had changed since he'd carried her out of her burning building. He had stopped flirting with her. And, lo and behold, Ivy Dean was such a dumbass that she'd decided to fall for himnow.

She told herself she wasn't seeing the real Luke Hernandez. That it was just her heart over-writing some stupid tripe about a good looking man. Just because he was treating her differently now didn't meanhehad feelings forher.

She wondered if this was something other women learned in middle school. She’d been homeschooled and therefore not been exposed to these things. Why on earth would she like this man better when hewasn'tflattering her and saying nice things than when he was?

Ivy had prided herself for a long, long time on not letting her heart get involved. Somehow that one thing had followed her through all three lives she’d lived. Even at a young age, she’d known she wouldn't fall prey to becoming some man's wife, like her mother and older sisters had. She couldn't believe in a God that had given her this brain and this ambition and wanted her to do nothing with it besides bake pies and homeschool her fourteen children.

She had gotten an advanced degree in library science, maybe in part because she'd so loved having access to all the knowledge she'd been denied as a woman. Now, there was nothing she couldn't look up—no textbook she couldn't borrow or research paper she couldn't find.

So she told herself that she should be able to find out who'd set her home on fire. She had access to city records and more. But she had also told herself she had plenty to do and that the investigators would figure it out and she didn't have to.

“So why are you investigating this?” she asked Luke. Why didn't he have the same idea that she did: that there was already a team assigned who would take care of it? She obviously had a personal stake in the whole thing, but why did he? What was making him ask these odd questions?

Her roller stopped moving as she realized something stunning. Turning, she looked at him, though he didn’t look at her. His back was strong. He was sturdy and well-trained. Her only advantage was that he might not see her coming. “You knew my house.”

“What?” He pausedso stillthat she knew she'd hit the mark.

“They told me you were the one who found me. Ronan said it was amazing—that you had told the chief to put you on the search. And then you walked right in and found me and carried me out. Which means—” she pointed to the back rooms. “—you knew that room was divided. You've been in my home. And since you weren't here after I moved in, you were here before.”

His body had stiffened; he stood rigid, still holding the roller.

She would have worried about it dripping on the floor if she hadn't needed to still replace the flooring. If she wasn’t more worried about the man in her house with her.

Could she trust him or not?

He was helping her. Help that she’d had to admit that she needed. The homeowners insurance had covered the basic rebuild, but it wasn't enough to replace her missing blender, her microwave, or the fridge. Hell, she'd seen the itemized list—she couldn't buy a used fridge from a want ad for what they'd paid out for the old beast of an appliance.

So she decided to pay herself to do some of the work and Luke had volunteered to help with much of that. She’d hired professionals to do the drywall, but she and Luke had rebuilt the walls first. Now that the walls were back in place, she and Luke were painting, knocking out another bill and leaving her with more cash to put the place back together.

Turning back to the wall, she dipped the roller and tried to act normal.

She was planning to lay the flooring herself. Though she'd had the cabinets professionally installed, she'd saved still more cash by staining them and finding the hardware on her own. That was how she was going to be able to afford a new blender and eventually replace the big fluffy chairs that she loved so much.

But why was Luke helping her? This wasn’t one of those cases where the whole team showed up and pitched in for the community. This was just Luke. Each day, he showed up as though he were paying off a debt. But what was the debt?

Maybe she’d missed all the important clues because she’d been so worried about organizing her rebuild and replacing the furniture. Luke Hernandez had been asking disturbingly pointed questions all along.

With her roller still in her hand, Ivy turned again slowly swinging it wide. She positioned it between her and him as though it would protect her.

He was charming. But weren't they all? “Charming” hid a multitude of sins. She knew that.

Maybe that was why she'd never fallen for the flirtatious and overly forward Luke. Maybe that was why her heart had shivered and jumped when he'd begun speaking to her as though she were an equal. Maybe it was that he’d simply figured out what made her tick.

Because he was a firefighter, and he had asked to come into her home and he’d positioned himself as her brave rescuer. Now, he was here alone with her.

With the long-handled paint roller positioned in between them, she waited for him to turn around. Then she looked him dead in the eyes and planned an escape route.

“Was it you?”

Chapter Eleven

Ivy followed the old blue Chevy down the long road leading out of town. Redemption was not the place to try and tail someone.

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