Irresistible Stranger

Chapter 4

Griff couldn’t fathom how she’d so completely messed with his head. Kissing her was supposed to be about…well, about kissing. One of the most enjoyable activities in the universe. A prelude to an even more enjoyable activity.

And a side benefit of kissing her was shutting her up-not that Griff was thinking in such crass terms, but hell and a half, she’d somehow gotten him talking about personal history. He never did that, and never wanted to do that. Hell, he never even allowed himself to think about the past. The whole point of burying something was making sure it was nowhere near the surface.

Her scent, on the other hand, was dangerously near the surface. He was falling into this drug, this unexpected intoxicant made up of all the textures of Lily Campbell-her scent, her taste, her thick lustrous hair, the butter softness of her lips, the sweetness of her. The latter was the killer ingredient. He just wasn’t prepared for that yielding sweetness, the way she tipped her head back, the way she leaned into him, to him.

Hell times ten. What was it about this woman? His arms swept around her, wrapping her closer, as if to protect her from the moonlight, from chills and dangers that didn’t exist, from…him. She was a teacher, for heavens sake, not a Lorelei. She gave off more nerves than an untried girl. She wasn’t a player.

Every Southern girl emerged from the womb knowing how to flirt, knowing the danger line, enjoying the sport. Not Lily. She drifted off when he tried to charm her. And now, when he expected her to bolt because he was crossing the danger line, she curled around him as if inviting Armageddon. Hoping for it. Daring him to bring it on.

Hands skimmed down her sides, testing, exploring. Beneath her thin top, he could feel the suppleness of her skin, the warmth. The allure. Her eyes closed against the impossible brightness of moonlight. She sank into his touch, into yet another kiss, not yielding so much as communicating yearning.

Slow, wary of scaring her, rushing her, of doing anything to break this crazy spell, he eased the side of his hand against her breast, heard her responsive intake of breath, felt the heat rush straight to his groin. His arousal was no surprise, but he was hard to the point of pain, hard like a teenage boy who could only think of one thing. Having her.

Dipping deep into that softness and heat.

He brought her closer, achingly close, burning close, his hands sweeping down to her fanny, pressing. Her breasts crushed against his chest, nipples tight, igniting another firestorm of hunger, of awareness, of want.

Responsively, she swayed even more snugly against him, shimmying just a little against his arousal, nestling against it. At that precise second he understood she was saying yes. That he could have her naked, have her in his bed this night. All night.

Even more confounding, he couldn’t remember wanting a woman more.

Ever.

That thought was enough to scare a little sense into him-not a lot, but enough. He eased back from a kiss, pressed his forehead to hers, tried to remember how to breathe normally. Since they were still glued hip to hip, possibly, normal breathing was highly unlikely, but maybe he didn’t want that much sanity quite yet.

“What are we doing here?” he murmured, knowing exactly what they were doing. That was the problem-an intense awareness of how right, how damned perfect, she felt in his arms.

“You don’t know?” she whispered back. “I could have sworn you started this.”

He hadn’t. He’d started a kiss, yes. He’d intended to thoroughly enjoy a devastating, thorough, evocative good-night kiss. But she was the one who’d brought on the tsunami, not him.

“You’ve been seducing me,” he accused her.

“Trust me. It had to be you doing the seducing. I wouldn’t know how to begin.”

“Oh yeah, you do.” Her nonsense made him smile. Or maybe it was that hypnotic look in her eyes. He swayed against her, wanting to, needing to torture himself a little longer. “We’re going to make love aren’t we, Lily Campbell…”

“Is that a question or a statement?”

“Oh, it’s a statement for damned sure. But not tonight.” He heard the landline ringing in the house.

So did she. She straightened. “You need to answer that.”

“Yeah, I do. But I want you to know, if it weren’t for a potential emergency call, I’d let it ring until ten months from Tuesday. It’s not about wanting to stop this.”

“Griff.” It rang two more times while he tried to explain. “Just go. It’s all right.”

It wasn’t remotely all right. He could barely walk straight, and his head was still buzzing. But he always answered the landline phone at night. He only gave the unlisted number to so many people-like his boys. Jason and Steve were in the riskiest situations at the moment.

He grabbed the kitchen extension, prepared for…hell, prepared for anything. He’d had to be in the past.

Instead of a boy’s voice, though, he heard the gruff tone of Cashner Warden, the fire chief. “Griff. Got a fire at your shop. The fire truck’s on its way, but I’m driving in from home as well.”

He saw Lily pausing in the doorway, then her expression changed to immediate concern. She’d obviously grasped that something was wrong.

“Was anyone in the store? Do you know how bad the fire is?”

“Not sure of anything yet. Neighbor saw smoke, called nine-one-one. I know you got a sprinkler set up in there, so I’m hoping that-well, it’s foolish to speculate until we know more. I’m on my way.”

“I’ll be there.” Before Griff could hang up, Cashner got in one more question.

“Griff. You happen to know where Lily Campbell is?”

Griff frowned. “Say what?”

“I’m just asking. If it’s arson, my first thought would normally be one of those loser kids you take on-but that’s not so logical, considering you’re the one always bailing ’em out of trouble. So then I have to say. You know. It’s the second fire since she’s been in town.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Griff snapped, and hung up.

“What?” Lily asked. “Something’s wrong-”

“Fire. At my ice-cream place. I have to go.”

“Of course you do. How can I help?”

He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had offered to help him. And his first response was to say the male thing-“of course not.” Yet, even before he’d grabbed a light jacket from the hall closet, he’d rethought that. “Something’s wrong, Lily,” he said quietly.

“Obviously. A fire’s a terrible-”

“Not that. Or not just that. I’m not sure if you heard, but the fire last week was at the old mill. The place is deserted these days. Nothing to worry about, as far as damages. Someone just brought in a heap of trash and lit a match to it. But it happened to be…”

There was a sudden stillness in her face. “Yes. Where my dad used to work. Where he lost his job. That’s why, of course, I set that fire.”

It was as if she’d turned inward, to a place he couldn’t see, couldn’t be. He heard the joke. He just understood that it wasn’t really funny-not to her-and damned if it was for him either. “Yeah. First thing the fire chief asked me was whether I knew where you were.”

She took in a breath. “Wow. So I set this fire, too?”

“Amazing, isn’t it? Really, sugar, I already realized you were amazing. But I had no idea you could be two places at once.”

“Some women have that kind of magic.” She was still joking, even though her face had turned pale.

“I don’t like this.” He couldn’t define why adrenaline was shooting so fast through his veins, but every protective instinct was charged on full. Two fires in less than two weeks. Lily’s name publically associated with both of them. What was going on?

“I can’t seem to think straight,” he admitted. “My first instinct is to suggest you come with me, be with me, so people will see us together. I’d think that would prove you aren’t the fire setter. Unfortunately, the plan’s full of holes. I could be stuck at the shop for an unknown stretch of hours. Makes no sense to strand you without a car.”

“This is easy, Griff. I’ll drive with you. I’d like to help if I can. And if there’s nothing I can do, then I’ll just walk home to Louella’s.”

He was about to object. He liked her plan-except for letting her walk home in the dark. Just then, though, they both heard the distant scream of the fire truck.

There was no time to argue about logistics or details. She even beat him to the car.

In every way, Lily wanted to help Griff, to step up and do whatever she could. She’d just kind of forgotten a couple things.

Like that she was petrified of fire.

Like that she tended to have panic attacks anywhere near serious smoke and flames.

The instant Griff turned on Main Street, the chaotic scene flashed in front of them. Griff stiffened as if someone had slapped him-then moved. He pulled the car over, didn’t waste time parking it, just cut the engine, tossed Lily the keys, opened the door and took off running.

Lily climbed out quickly, too, but then couldn’t seem to move. The fire truck couldn’t have been there long, but firemen manned two hoses, both of which were aimed full-force at the ice-cream shop. People clustered as close as they dared, some in their nightclothes, some holding kids and crying. The hoses choked the sharp yellow flames, turning everything into a black, sooty mess. The crowd, held back by yellow tape, screamed when the front window of the shop blew out, raining shattered glass glittering onto the wet pavement.

Griff was still charging under the police barrier toward his store.

Lily struggled to unfreeze. She knew this nightmare, every sharp edge, every petrifying shadow. No one knew about the furious noise of fire unless they’d endured it. No one knew about the choking smoke, the impossible mess, the stink. No one knew how something beautiful and safe and sure could be devastated in mere minutes.

No one knew that you could lose everything that ever mattered to you faster than the snap of two fingers.

She shook herself, forced herself to breathe, to move. This wasn’t about her. It was about a whole town-and Griff losing that treasure of an ice-cream parlor. In the distance, she saw both the sheriff and fire chief jog over to reason with him, talk with him. Images nailed in her mind. Griff, fighting to get to his store, scalping a hand through his hair when he was held back. Sheriff Conner shaking his head. The fire chief, Cashner Warden, cocking a foot forward, clearly asking question after question. Griff never took his eyes off the fire.

Lily scanned the crowd, trying to think of something, anything she could do to help. The townspeople all seemed to love Griff. There wasn’t a kid or family who didn’t stop for his ice cream, barely a woman who didn’t take the time to flirt with him. Several kids in the crowd were crying, hands to their mouths, being comforted by moms and dads whose faces looked white in the darkness. Every few moments someone would look at her-including Sheriff Conner.

It hurt to see suspicion in their eyes. They unquestionably thought the fire was caused by arson.

Darn it, so did she.

She spotted two of the boys who worked for Griff-Jason and Steve-and instinctively walked toward them. In such a relentlessly clean-cut town, the boys stood out like weeds in a garden. They were huddled on their own, isolated from the crowd, both wearing tees too thin for the damp night, shoulders hunched.

The tall one, Steve, had arms decorated with tattoos and his hair dyed with a stripe of red. But for all the belligerent expression, he had the eyes of a lonely kid.

The other boy, Jason, was scrapper-small, his head shaved like a marine’s. He’d saddened Lily from the first time she met him. He had that beaten look in his eyes, a posture that was always anxious, spring-ready-ready to run, ready to punch, ready always to face the next bad thing.

Both boys recognized her, saw her walking, but neither paid any attention until she stopped in front of them. “Hi, guys. Have either of you been here long enough to know what happened?”

Jason looked behind him, as if thinking she must be speaking to someone else. When he realized she was talking to him, his face flushed.

“He got here first.” He lifted his shoulder toward Steve. “But I got here right after. We both wanted to help, but the cops and firemen won’t let us go any closer.”

“But we’re not leaving,” Steve said. “We’re staying for Griff. No matter what anybody says.”

“That’s exactly how I feel,” Lily told them. “I don’t want to leave if there’s a chance I can help. But to tell you the truth, I’m really petrified of fires. Would you mind if I hang with you two?”

Both boys shot each other a look of alarm. Yet they both immediately moved to create a space between them, then promptly looked around as if expecting someone to explain the facts of life to Lily. There were respectable people all over the place that she could be talking to.

“Did you hear anything about how the fire started?” she asked.

“Lot of people talking, but nobody who knows.” Steve shifted on his feet. “It wasn’t, like, electrical. Because it wasn’t in the walls or like that. And the one fireman, he was talking about accelerants. Like how fast a fire burns, how it burns? I heard him say something about gasoline. Which means somebody set it.”

“Nobody shoulda done that to Griff,” Jason said heatedly. “Nobody.”

“That’s exactly how I feel,” Lily agreed. “I don’t know him well. But as far as I can tell, he’s decent to everyone, not at all the kind of person to make enemies. More like the kind of man who’d make serious friends.”

Steve lost some of his stiffness. “He doesn’t care who you are or where you come from. You’re good to him, he’s good to you. He doesn’t rush to judge people.”

“That’s my impression, too. So, can either of you think of someone who might have done this?”

Jason toed an imaginary spot on the cement. “Some people think that’d be you. Not that I’d be thinking that, of course. But some people been saying that.”

Steve shot him a look. “Not us. Griff, he set us straight about you. We know you’re okay.”

Lily kept an intrusive eye on Jason’s face. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate hearing that. It really hurts to have people think the worst of you-especially when they don’t really know anything about you.”

Jason suddenly squinted at her hard, then said slowly. “Yeah. I know what that’s like.”

A moment later he shifted a little closer. She knew better than to push for any closer connection this soon. The gifted kids Lily taught tended to be well dressed and quiet, wealthy kids; but these two were so similar in other ways. Her students all had sharp edges, radiated the same don’t-fit-in loneliness. They were always braced for people to judge them as “different.”

In the meantime, the crowd was slowly drifting away. The smoke was still thick, the burned stench pervasive, but the fire was out, the danger clearly over. The fire truck had turned off its flashers. The authorities still hovered with Griff. Lily was uncertain how much time had passed. One hour? More? For darn sure, it was well past midnight…and the two boys were weaving on their feet.

She didn’t ask if their parents knew where they were. She would have bet the bank it was a waste of time. She just said, “I can see they’re starting to close this down. And I was thinking…”

“What?” Steve asked.

“Well. Nobody’s going to be allowed to touch anything until they take off the yellow tape-which I assume will be tomorrow, at the soonest. But the thing is-it really looks like a mess.”

“You’re not kidding,” Jason said.

“Griff is really going to need some help. But not now. So, it’d seem the best thing to do for us is to go home and get some rest. Because he’ll need all the energy we’ve got to help him tackle this tomorrow.”

“I don’t think we should go,” Steve said.

“I know. It feels wrong. But I keep thinking, if we’re all exhausted tomorrow, how much help can we really be for him? And there isn’t a prayer anyone will let us do anything tonight.”

“I don’t know,” Jason said unhappily.

But twenty minutes later, when the last bystanders disappeared into the night, the boys finally agreed to pack it up-after some more ardent words about being there for Griff first thing the next day.

Eventually, the fire truck left. Then the sheriff drove off with the fire chief right behind him.

An older man with a thatch of gray hair parked in front of the place, opened his windows-it looked as if he’d been assigned to stay the night, make sure no one trespassed on the fire scene until morning. Griff stood talking with him for a while after that, before turning around and aiming for his car.

Initially, he didn’t notice Lily sitting on the curb, which suited her just fine. He wasn’t devil-may-care womanizer Griff now. The lazy stride was gone.

He was mad. He had to be beyond exhausted, but he stalked toward the car with a clipped step, an iron cast to his chin, his mind obviously working overtime at a hundred miles an hour. The character in his face fascinated her. So did the splotches of soot decorating his clothes and arms and face.

He was startled when he suddenly spotted her. “What are you still doing here, you crazy woman?”

“I figured I’d take you home.” She stood up, wiped the cement crumbs from her fanny.

“I assumed you’d have already gone home. You weren’t supposed to wait-”

“I wanted to.” She wanted to wrap her arms around him right then, too, but she didn’t. He moved tighter than wire, every muscle coiled up and bunched. “It was arson, yes? Gasoline as the accelerant?”

“Yeah. I take it you heard some of the talk.” He scraped a hand through his hair, which only added more soot to the mess. “It’s actually not as bad as it looks. The clean-up will be a godawful mess, for sure. But the two locked rooms in back-the freezer section, and my experimental kitchen-those would have taken serious money to replace, and they’re fine. It’s just the main part of the store that’s a wreck. Apparently, someone used a skeleton key, dropped a homemade gasoline explosive in a wastebasket. It seems impossible. A crime with no motive. Vandalism for no purpose. But planned.”

“So…”

“So, the fire team needs to see the scene by light of day. Do their investigative thing. Then I can get in there. Rather than clean up, frankly I suspect it’ll be easier to gut the place, start with new sheet rock, new floor, just redo the darned thing. What?” He seemed to suddenly notice that she was dangling her car keys in front of him.

“I want to hear more,” she assured him. “But it’s been a long night. Let’s get you in the car first. I’ll take you home.”

“You’re taking me home?”

“Don’t get your hopes up. I’m not offering a wild night of sin and surprises. You’re just not going home alone tonight. I’m driving, because you have to be stressed. Then I’m putting you in a hot shower, and after that, tucking you into bed.”

He shot her a look. “I don’t think so,” he said dryly.

She did.

She was gaining a certain comfort level in this odd, powerful attraction she had for him. It was like looking at a diamond so expensive that she couldn’t have it. Griff was a fantastic flirt, but he couldn’t really be interested in her. His home was here. Hers would never be here again. He played a sophisticated game. She went to makeup and jewelry parties. He had a secret life. She never had a reason to keep a secret. Bottom line was that she might as well let this singing, zinging fire between them smoke through its course, because she couldn’t imagine how she could get burned. He wasn’t for her. She’d never lie to herself about that.

But tonight wasn’t about such heavy issues. Tonight was just about watching over a man who was beside himself and worn out.

His house was dark. Neither had thought to leave an outside light on. Griff gave her grief every step of the way, insisting she go home, that he didn’t need a babysitter, that he could get his own towels-when she turned on the shower, she prowled around for a linen closet and clean towels, then prowled in the kitchen until she found a bottle of Talisker’s.

She wasn’t exactly positive what kind of liquor that was, but when she unscrewed the top and smelled, she knew it was exactly what she was looking for. She splashed a couple shots in a water glass, and put that on the bathroom counter, too.

“If you’re determined to stay here, you could at least come into the shower with me,” he called from the other side of the smoky glass.

“Maybe next week,” she said.

“What? What’s next week?”

“The point is that you’re not getting any tonight, so just get your mind off it.” She left the door ajar, and went into his bedroom. The master suite wasn’t particularly huge, but the balcony was a pool of moonlight, the room colors a rich blend of silvers and pale grays and charcoals. She plumped his pillows, turned back the sheets.

She debated what to do with the clothes he’d peeled off-her first choice was to trash them, but really, she hardly had that right. The fire stench was too noxious for them to stay inside, so they got a temporary home in his garage.

Griff emerged from the shower still protesting-but his voice was starting to slur, his eyes bloodshot from all the smoke. She pointed with a royal finger-her teacher royal finger-toward his room. “I’m not tired,” he said. “And besides that…”

She didn’t need to tune him out. He was out for the count from the instant his head hit the pillow. Actually, he crashed so deeply that she was a little fearful he’d gone straight into a coma-but his chest was rising and falling, so there was no excuse to keep hovering over him.

Because she couldn’t find any herbal tea, she poured herself a thimbleful of that Talisker stuff, found a blanket from his linen closet, and curled up in an oversized chair in his living room. With that location, she was within springing distance of his landline, just in case anyone dared try to call and interrupt his sleep again.

She expected to nap, but couldn’t. She was too troubled-by the fire, by why arson fires had suddenly started when she came back. By why anyone would target Griff. By that long-ago fire and the memory of her dad’s face in the window, backlit by flames…

Unsettled by the old nightmares, she scrounged in her purse for her cell, thinking that maybe it was past time to consult with the big guns. She used to either call or email her sisters several times a week-but that was before they’d both fallen in love last year. Their guys were great, but her sisters had been so insufferably, relentlessly happy that they couldn’t talk about anything but her finding someone. Tonight, though, she just plain needed sis time.

Because it was the middle of the night in D.C., she couldn’t call her youngest sister, Sophie. But Cate was honeymooning in Alaska, and the time there was relatively early evening.

“You are in such trouble.” Cate not only immediately answered the phone, but started right in with the bossy business. “You haven’t answered your email in days. Sophie said she hadn’t heard from you either. What’s going on?”

“Guilt,” Lily admitted. “I knew you’d yell at me if I told you what I was up to.”

“Of course I’m going to yell at you.” Cate adjusted the phone, said something to Harm-her good-looking groom-informing him that a girl had priorities. Sex was an important second. But sisters came first. “Now-where are you? And I don’t want to hear that you’re spending your whole teacher summer doing stupid stuff like jewelry parties and gardening and volunteering endless hours for some godforsaken cause. I want to hear that you’re up to no good. With a man. Preferably a bad boy kind of man. Preferably-”

“Yup,” Lily said peaceably. “I’m doing exactly that.”

The silence between Alaska and Georgia was abruptly deafening.

“What?”

“For years now, you two have been urging me to strip off the teacher clothes, quit being nice, quit dating safe guys. So I took your advice-”

Cate, in a crisis, didn’t fool around. She cut through the drivel. “Where are you? I can get the next plane out.”

Lily smiled into the receiver, but then got serious. “I’m in Pecan Valley, Cate. I’m looking into our fire. Or trying to. I know we’ve talked about this a zillion times, that we need to put the fire behind us, take charge of our lives. Only you and Sophie have done that. And somehow I haven’t been able to.”

“Wait. Honey. Wait. If we knew you wanted to do this-or needed to do this-the three of us could have found some time to come together, go there together-”

“No. You’d both have tried to talk me out of it.” Lily snuggled up tighter in the blanket, leaned her head back. “I never thought Dad started that fire. We all repeated the things we were told. That he loved us, but he was desperate, not in his right mind-all that. But I never believed it, Cate. Every time I’m with a guy…I’m thinking of dad. How much I loved him. How perfect we all thought he was. How good. And that if he set that fire, maybe I can’t judge anyone’s character. Maybe I’d just love blindly. Trust blindly. I’m probably not explaining this well, but-”

“You are, Lily. But I hate the idea of you doing this alone. And what about this man you mentioned?”

Lily heard her brother-in-law’s voice in the background, and figured she’d interrupted enough. “Cate, I’ll talk to you in another couple days, promise. Don’t worry. Everything’s fine. Give Harm a big hug from me. Love you.”

She switched off her cell, thinking she’d prowl around Griff’s place one last time, make sure all the doors were locked, make sure he was sleeping, make one more run to the bathroom.

That was the plan. But the last thing she remembered was snuggling just a moment longer in the blanket. It wasn’t as good as Griff’s arms around her, but thinking about Griff set off a chain reaction of dreams.