She pressed her face to her knees and nodded. “I know this isn’t the right fire. Go ahead and get this done. Ask me the rest of your questions.”

“Red.”

“Do it.”

He ran through the list as gently as possible, memorizing her answers to write down later because he wasn’t going to take his hands off her.

No, she hadn’t used the bathroom in the hours before the fire. No, she hadn’t heard anything while she was down in the basement. No, she hadn’t used gasoline in the shop.

And when he was done, she leapt up. “I have to get out of here.”

“Yeah.” He looked away from her, remembering he wasn’t going to like it when she was gone again.

“No, I mean—I just need some air.”

He met her gaze, the woman who pretended not to need any emotional attachments, and realized he wasn’t ready to let her go. “How about some company?”

“I don’t know, what if you feel the urge to talk about sex?”

He caught the teasing light in her eyes and felt a profound release of the tension gripping his body. She was going to be okay. “I’ll try to restrain myself.”

“Don’t do so on my account.”

He shook his head and took her hand. “Come on you. I know just the thing to cheer you up.”

Chapter 13

Chapter 13

A frozen yogurt?” Summer laughed, and it was the belly laugh Joe remembered.

He found himself smiling at her as he handed over the strawberry yogurt cone he’d just bought her.

They’d walked past the pier and out onto the beach. The early evening sun beat down on their heads, the sand blazing beneath their feet. A nice breeze washed over them with every wave that hit the shore, the sound and light spray both soothing and calming. Around them were a variety of surfers, raucous young couples, and tourists.

Summer, in her crepe camisole top and skirt and easy grin, looked right at home, unless one knew her and could see past the slightly shaky smile. She was still hurting. Even so, she dug into her dessert with typical gusto, then twirled around on the sand like a kid, her feet splashing in the water, making her skirt cling to her calves. “You’re right,” she said, coming to a stop and facing him. “This definitely hits the spot.”

Oh, yeah, it did, he thought as he slurped his own chocolate shake down his throat and watched her begin to shed her tension like an unwanted coat. God, for the ability to do that.

“Trade,” she said, and before he could blink, she thrust her cone at him and took his shake—an old habit. She slurped at his dessert for a moment. “Not nearly as healthy as mine, but good,” she said and switched back, happily resuming her cone. “Joe?”

“Hmm?”