Into the Flames (Jupiter Point Book 3) Read online

  Into the Flames

  Jennifer Bernard

  Contents

  Foreword

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Afterword

  Set the Night on Fire

  Burn So Bright: Josh & Suzanne

  About the Author

  Also by Jennifer Bernard

  From USA Today bestselling author Jennifer Bernard…sometimes the only way forward is into the flames …

  To his wildfire hotshot crew, he’s Rollo. Firefighter, loyal friend, lifesaver. To his family, he’s Rollington Wareham III, black sheep and heir to a banking fortune. But now that he’s turned thirty, Rollo knows his days of firefighting and freedom are over. He has responsibilities. Duties. Goodbye hotshots, hello boardroom—and a socially acceptable bride. This is absolutely the worst time to realize just how sexy and adorable his good friend Brianna is.

  Put her in a garden with some plants, and Brianna Gallagher knows just what to do. Send her on a date with an attractive man and things get awkward. Epically awkward. It’s a good thing she and Rollo are such great friends. It would be a total disaster if she started noticing his ripped physique and sculpted muscles. Kissing him is a definite no-no. As for falling into bed … well, that might be okay as long as they both know it’s a limited time deal. She doesn’t belong in his world, and he can’t stay in hers. No matter how much she’s falling for him.

  But fate has a way of changing people’s plans. When a family crisis follows Rollo to Jupiter Point, he turns to the one woman he trusts above all others. Throw in a disastrous visit to Manhattan, a bride hunt, and the world’s most awkward crush, and it will take a miracle to bring them together. Or a shocking event that puts Brianna’s life at risk …

  1

  Brianna Gallagher anxiously adjusted her new blouse and scanned the cocktail-hour crowd gathered on the terrace at the Seaview Inn. Her date was waiting for her somewhere in that group, and once again she'd dressed all wrong. Why didn't they teach "dating basics" in school? What to wear, what to talk about. Apparently plant hybridization and the dangers of the lack of biodiversity didn't cut it.

  Yup, she'd learned that the hard way, watching Denny Benson's eyes glaze over the last time she was here on a date at the Seaview.

  Shake it off. New day, new date. A blind date, in this case. This was a new thing her friends were trying. The element of surprise supposedly added a special twist of fun, like a wrapped Christmas present. This particular date had been set up by her friend at the hardware store.

  "He's perfect for you," Gretchen had insisted. "He's strong, he's kind, he's good-looking, he's outdoorsy, he's good with his hands. And he's new in town. He claims he's not looking for a relationship, but I talked him into drinks at the Seaview with my awesome friend. So just go! Give it a chance!"

  Stay positive, she reminded herself. This was supposed to be fun. She was sick and tired of being everyone's adorable little friend. At twenty-eight, you really didn't qualify for the word “adorable” anymore.

  As she took in the inn's sophisticated Chardonnay-at-sunset crowd, the men in suit jackets, the women in flirty cocktail dresses with pashminas against the November chill, her heart sank.

  Overalls, even made from raw silk the color of sage leaves, were not a good choice. She probably looked like a wood elf. And why had she worn a billowing, puffy-sleeved blouse under the overalls? She probably looked like a pirate wood elf. A tiny pirate elf about to stab herself with a fork.

  She could practically feel herself shrinking as she stood there amid the laughter and chatter. Desperate measures were called for. As a smallish person, she'd learned a few tips over the years. "Superman pose" was one of her favorites. It always made her feel bigger and more in command. After all, she was a strong person used to digging in the dirt and moving flagstones with her bare hands. Could any of these people here move as many wheelbarrows of mulch as she could? She didn't think so.

  She spread her feet apart and planted her fists on her hips. Puffed out her chest. Lifted her chin. Silently roared. I am a strong and confident woman. I deserve to be here.

  "Ahoy, matey," said a deep, rumbling voice from somewhere over her head. Way over her head. "Should we board first or fire a warning shot?"

  She snapped her head up to see her friend Rollo gazing down at her, a grin splitting his bearded face. Rollo Wareham was one of the new Jupiter Point Hotshots, the wildfire fighters who had recently moved into the Fire and Rescue compound. They'd gotten to be close friends, and he was guaranteed to tease her about this.

  "Excuse me?"

  "You look like Peter Pan about to take on Captain Hook. Like you need a cutlass between your teeth."

  Forlornly, Brianna relaxed her stance. So much for Superman pose. "You'd better be glad I don't have a cutlass right now," she muttered.

  His expression shifted. The laughter drained from his blue eyes, which she'd always thought of as unusually kind and soulful. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it as an insult. You want to board the Seaview, I'm right behind you. I got your back."

  She waved off his apology. "Eh, don't worry about it. I'd rather be Peter Pan than Tinkerbell. And yes, believe it or not, I have been compared to Tinkerbell. Ridiculous, I know." Even though she'd grown into a normal-sized, if small, person, as a kid she'd been flat-out tiny. When she was eight, she'd given in to her mother's longing and dressed as Tinkerbell for Halloween. No one in Jupiter Point had ever let her forget that.

  Rollo grinned, shaking his head. "Tinkerbell is always misrepresented. She's tiny but fierce. So, what brings you here tonight—" He broke off suddenly. "Wait a minute…are you here for…"

  The same thought struck Brianna at exactly the same time. "You aren't here to meet…"

  "…a blind date…"

  "Are you?"

  They stared at each other, then both burst out laughing. Rollo laughed until a tear came to his eye. It might have bothered Brianna if she hadn't been laughing just as hard.

  "Third time this month," she finally gasped. "What is wrong with everyone in this town?" Twice before, friends had thrown them together in very obvious match-making attempts. Once at a party, once during a double-date. "Don't they know we're friends? Oh, and Gretchen said my date's name is Roscoe."

  "That's closer than she usually gets with my name. Once she called me Rob Lowe." Rollo ran one hand through his shaggy hair, which he'd brushed back from his face, making him look like a brown-haired Viking. "She staked a case of kitchen tiles on us being a perfect match. I guess I can relax now. Wish I hadn't bothered with this freakin' tie."

  She surveyed him with frank appreciation. "Honestly, you look great, Rollo. It's too bad it's just me, because no sane woman could resist you." Rollo was a towering, wide-shouldered guy, built from solid, hard-packed muscle, and with his charcoal gray dress shirt and black trousers, set
off with a silver-blue patterned tie that matched his eyes, he looked amazing.

  "Thanks, Bri. You look…" His gaze swept over her outfit and he seemed to choke a little before he continued. "Adorable."

  She rolled her eyes. "Don't bother, big guy. I know I look ridiculous. I saw this in a catalogue and thought, well, I know I look good in overalls because I wear them all day long. Honestly, I've never been let down by overalls before."

  "I like the color," he volunteered helpfully. "Green. My favorite. I see a lot of green in my line of work."

  "So do I. I guess we have that in common."

  They smiled at each other. Honestly, she felt a lot better now that Rollo was here. There was something about his huge size and his kind eyes that she really liked. Not liked liked, of course. No, she and Rollo were friends; they could talk for hours about just about anything. She loved hanging out with him but the truth was, she had a hopeless crush on a different firefighter. She’d been hoping a date with someone else would distract her from that obsession.

  He presented his hand to her. It was huge, like the paw of a bear. "Are you hungry? I'm starving. And honestly, I wasn't looking forward to sipping on a glass of wine and chitchatting before I could stuff food down my gullet."

  "Are you asking me out?" she teased. "Because we already did this. Twice."

  "Please don't turn me down. You're my favorite non-date of all time."

  "And isn't that the story of my life," she grumbled. But she put her hand in his, amused by the way it completely engulfed hers, and followed the hostess to a corner table on the terrace.

  2

  Rollo felt a lot better after a huge serving of pork chops, potatoes and applesauce—not to mention the two dark ales he’d downed in pretty short order. Of all people to end up on a non-date with, Brianna was at the top of the list. He always got a kick out of her, and she was pretty, too. All that flaming ginger hair, her small but perky body.

  He'd known Brianna ever since his friend and crew superintendent Sean Marcus had gotten together with her friend Evie. Over the past few months they'd clicked as friends. They'd gone to the midnight movie horror show, shared giant jalapeño burgers at the Milky Way, hiked in the hills around Jupiter Point. She definitely deserved a real date with someone who could properly appreciate her in all her uniqueness.

  But he wasn't in a position to date anyone. He'd tried to tell Gretchen that, but she was having none of it. "Nope, sorry. You're too delicious to stay single. How about two cases of tile?"

  He washed down his last bite of potato with a long slug of beer and pushed his plate aside. He didn't have to put on an act with Brianna, which was a huge plus to hanging out with her. Maybe it was all the time she spent with plants and flowers, but she had an amazing ability to accept people as they were. With her, he never got the feeling that he should shave his beard and quit being a firefighter and move back east and marry a debutante and…

  Eh. No need to repeat the last thousand conversations with his parents.

  "So, Bri. You might as well tell me."

  "Tell you what?" She glanced up from her braised chicken and dumplings. Another thing the two of them had in common was a hearty appreciation of food. How she managed to eat so much with that tiny frame of hers, he had no idea. She could probably ride on his shoulders and he wouldn't feel a thing.

  "Who your secret crush is."

  "What? Who told you that?" Her green eyes were wide with dismay, a flush coming and going in her cheeks. With a light spray of golden freckles across her cheekbones, she really was pretty.

  "No one. Like I said, secret." He smiled smugly when she wrinkled her nose at him. "You can tell Uncle Rollo. I'm a master of keeping secrets."

  "Back up, back up. What makes you think I have this alleged hidden crush?" She put down her fork, the sleeve of her blouse dragging through the gravy on her plate. He grabbed a napkin and dipped it in water, then lifted her arm so he could dab the soiled spot.

  "Well, this is our third sort-of date and you haven't fallen in love with me yet. The only explanation is that you're into someone else."

  She rolled her eyes, which he totally deserved. He wasn't any kind of player—not like Josh, who'd flirted his way through several states before finally falling hard for Brianna's friend Suzanne. Rollo was very careful who he got involved with because it could never go anywhere. That was one of the reasons he kept Brianna firmly in the friend zone. She was a great girl but he couldn't get involved.

  "Whoever he is, he probably doesn't know you're into him. Because if he did, he'd snap you up."

  She stared at him for a long moment, a look of delight slowly taking over her face. "Wow, Rollo. That was pretty nice of you."

  He dipped this head in acknowledgement of her compliment. "So? Might as well spill the beans. Maybe I know the guy. I can put in a good word."

  A wave of red crept from her neck, up her cheeks, all the way to her forehead. It was fascinating to watch, actually, and by the time she was done, her entire face glowed with color. With that blush, combined with her fiery hair, she could light the way through a forest.

  "Rollo, just drop it. There's no point. He doesn't even know I exist. Just pretend I never said anything. Oh wait, I never did say anything."

  "You're right, you're right. You didn't bring it up, and I don't want to put you on the spot. But Brianna, don't sell yourself short. You're a little hottie, and if you like this guy, you ought to at least give it a shot. As long as he deserves you. If he doesn't, I'll kick his ass."

  "You can't kick his ass."

  "I can kick everyone's ass." He said it matter-of-factly, because it was true. Not only was he big and tall, but the hotshot training regimen had made him incredibly strong. Guys were always trying to pick fights with him just for the challenge of it. It was extremely annoying.

  "I don't want you to kick his ass. Actually, it's more like you don't want to kick his ass. You wouldn't want to, if you knew… Ack! We should stop talking about this. Now. Before I—" She clapped her hand over her mouth.

  Rollo wanted to laugh out loud, but he didn't want to hurt her feelings again. He knew what she was about to say. Brianna was infamous for simply blurting things out. All kinds of things. She always meant well because she was a sweetheart, but she had a bull-in-a-china-shop quality. He liked that about her, because he liked anything that went against the grain. Brianna was always real, always herself. Even when dressed in some kind of strange green clown outfit and puffy sleeves.

  He rested his forearms on the table and cupped his hands around her elbows. "I promise you, on the grave of my dear departed Brunhilda, that I will never tell a single living soul about any of this. We're in a cone of silence here."

  Her eyebrows flexed and drew together at a quizzical slant. "Who's Brunhilda?"

  "My Newfie. I had her ever since she was a puppy. She died when I was thirteen and broke my heart. When I vow on her grave, you know I'm serious."

  "Brunhilda? Who names a dog Brunhilda?"

  "That just proves you didn't know her. It suited her. But let's not get distracted. Back to you."

  She let out a long sigh and turned her attention to her chicken. "Why are you pushing this?"

  He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. "Because I want to help you out here. Do you want to keep ending up on dates with me?"

  She made a face meant to indicate that of course she didn't. He tried not to let that sting. He and Brianna were friends. And he intended to keep it that way. He didn't have a choice.

  "If it helps, I have a pretty good guess about who it is," he told her. "You can just nod once if I'm right and shake your head if I'm wrong."

  "I can't believe you're turning my awkward hopeless crush into a game."

  "But that's the thing. I don't see why it has to be hopeless. There's always hope."

  She gave him a sly look from under her eyelashes. "Always? I'm not so sure about that. I don't think I'm the only one at this table with a crush
."

  His jaw flexed and he was suddenly grateful for the beard covering half of his face. That thing made his expressions so much easier to conceal.

  "You're bluffing," he said calmly. "You know nothing."

  "You keep telling yourself that." Smugly, she dragged a bit of roll through her chicken gravy, once again putting her sleeve at risk. He reached across the table and held it up, as if it were a train on a wedding gown.

  He eyed her carefully, wondering how much she actually knew or if she was just trying to throw him off. He hadn't said a word to anyone—well, who would he talk to, anyway? The hotshot crew? Hell no. His little sister? She had her own train wreck going on, and besides, she was only fourteen. He didn't need to be confiding his broken heart to a troubled teenage drama queen. Maybe he could use a friendly ear, or a friendly shoulder to cry on.

  The world would not miss those green overalls if they got tear-soaked.

  "There was someone—keyword, was—but my situation actually is hopeless. But I'll tell you if you tell me. That way we have mutually assured secrecy."

  "Mutually assured secrecy?"

  "Yup." He sat back and folded his arms over his chest. "Take it or leave it."

  For a long moment, her green eyes searched his face. They were so pretty, those eyes, kind of a woodsy green. Like moss lit by the sun. Anything that reminded him of the woods was good, in his book. He'd grown up in Manhattan, with summers spent in Maine, and ever since he was little he'd lived for the Maine part of the equation.

  Finally, she nodded. "Okay. I'll tell you if you tell me. But I already know yours, so it's hardly fair."

  "It's very fair, because I already know yours too."

  They narrowed their eyes at each other, like two suspicious super-spies in a standoff. Then Brianna burst out laughing. She had one of the most infectious belly laughs he'd ever heard. It always spread a warm feeling through his entire body.

  "Fine." She planted her elbows on the table and leaned forward. "You, Mr. Rollo Wareham the Third, have been pining after Merry Warren."