Page 47 of Slow Burn
“Where you goin’?”
“Getting my car.” She didn’t even look at him, but her face carried a hard edge that put a chill down his spine.
“Then what?” he asked, picking up his pace.
She wheeled around so fast he almost plowed into her. “Why? Why do you need to know, Cole?”
Her gaze cut him open. His mouth went dry. “Because I wanna make sure you’re alright.”
“I’m fine.”
The way she said it lit him up inside, sharp and hot, like a slap. He could see the wall going up between them, stone by stone.Maybe it’d been there all along, and he’d just been fool enough to think he could slip past it.
His fingers curled in tight. “Alright, then.”
He brushed by her, stalking back toward the Nail, every step clipped and hard. Stupid, probably, but that old itch was riding him—the one that said he had to be like his daddy, had to measure up to the hero everybody else remembered. Maybe even prove to Jocelyn that he was cut from the same cloth, no matter how tarnished his father’s image was now.
Couldn’t prove a damn thing if she didn’t give him the chance to, if she didn’t let someone help her with that burden.
Inside the Nail, Terra gave him a sharp stare as he blew past her. He ignored it, heading for the back stairs. Up, down, up again—three times he pounded them out, burning off the mad coursing through his veins.
When he finally shoved into his apartment, he paced the floor like a caged animal. The window showed thinning smoke rising over the Inn now, which meant the fire was nearly out, thank God. Heath and Sally Anne would be buried under mess enough without losing the whole place. He’d check on them soon, once the crowd cleared.
But even as he tried to settle, Jocelyn’s face kept flashing in his mind—her suspicion, her fear, her anger so sharp it had teeth. She’d stormed off mad, but he knew better. There was more under it: frustration, maybe loss, maybe that same shadow of fear that chased his own thoughts.
That stirred something in his gut—the idea that she would be scared, this woman he really barely knew but had heard about his whole life. His mama had talked about her plenty. And so he did know. He knew her history without ever asking. Varsity soccer, full ride scholarship, the serious boyfriend, the first job. He knew her like family, but the pull under his skin told him she was anything but.
He rubbed his hands together, heat sparking in his palms, needing something to do. The need to move, to work, was bred in him same as breathing. His granddad used to say he had ants in his pants. His mama knew better—it was a body that couldn’t sit still, a man that had to put his hands to use.
And now he had something worth that restless energy. Jocelyn needed help—even if she didn’t know it, even if she didn’t want it. He could give her that. He wanted to give her that. And not because of who his daddy was.
It was that fire. The note. No, not coincidence at all. Deliberate.
Purpose lit him up, quick and sure.
Cole jogged for the stairs again, already knowing he wouldn’t keep his distance anymore. She could shut him out if she wanted, but he wasn’t backing down. Not this time.
Cole breezed down to the restaurant, and the wall of sound struck him like a freight train.
“What the hell?” he muttered as he rounded in behind the bar.
“Fire is good for business,” Terra said with a raised brow. She was almost yelling over the din.
“Good for business, bad for my ears. What’re they sayin’?”
“All kinds. Saw Jocelyn runnin’ away like maybe she’d lit it.” Cole cut her a razor look, but she kept on. “There was an explosion before it went up. It was just a small blaze—started by some kids. It came from the kitchen. A smoker leaving cigarettes unattended in a room. Take your pick.”
The growl rumbled in his chest, and he scowled out at the chaos of the dining room. No one was eating a quiet dinner tonight. Not that the Nail was the place for quiet, but it usually was calm enough for a conversation at least.
No one wanted conversation now. This was a trading room for theories and speculation.
“Cole, Edith saw you there at the hotel.” Henry Wetzel shoved his way to the bar.
“Yeah, I was there. Gonna check in on Heath and Sally when all’s said and done. Offer my help.”
Henry’s lips flattened at the veiled admonishment. Cole made sure the edge was in his voice so there’d be no doubt about it.
“Any ideas what caused it?” Henry ventured.
