Page 28 of Studfinder

“So what’s the problem?” May questions.

“I slept with him instead.”

“And that’s a problem, how?” May slowly gives me a mischievous grin.

“Don’t give me that look, lady,” I sternly warn her, but my lips lose the battle and match her smile.

“I have two questions for you. Did you enjoy yourself, and were you safe?” May dropped her voice as she spoke in a poor imitation of me, recanting our conversation when she considered Alec only a rebound hookup. Then she laughs.

“Yes, Mom,” I tease back at her, although I’m over a decade older than her.

“I do remember a certain someone once telling me as long there was no alcohol involved a little rebound loving never hurt anyone,” May reminds me. “But this wasn’t a rebound, was it?”

Ian and I hadn’t broken up. He’d died. My first bounce into sex was a wake-up call to my deeper issues, which May knows about as I first sponsored her in AA. I glance back at the case report pulled up on my computer and touch a key to close the file.

“Maybe I should have just knitted a sweater,” I state, dismissing my slip with Jake. If I knit him one, will he go away now? Do I really want him to?

“Nah. I’d always go with sex,” May says, winking at me, stealing all my lines. I’m paying for teasing her about Alec, but there’s nothing to joke about. Her beau is a hot, hunky man who does right by my girl.

Suddenly, I’m considering that sweater and decide some retail therapy in the yarn store in Montpelier is a better use of my time than staring at a report I don’t want to read.

Two days later, I’m still ruminating over what Jake and I did. I went to an AA meeting for professional women only in Montpelier intent on avoiding the meeting Jake attends in Colebury. I’d also been avoiding the building site, although Alfred called me, wondering if I’ve made a decision about the directorship. I hadn’t yet.

In addition to all that, I’d been thinking about what Jake told me about being a former arson investigator. Curiosity had me wondering if he worked on Ian’s case. I hadn’t followed the story in the news or anywhere else for that matter. I had a funeral to plan and a wedding to dismantle. Some say I should have gone to the trial, for closure or retribution or something, but I disagreed. What would facing the person who killed Ian prove? It was ruled involuntary manslaughter—a fancy label for an accident. Whoever committed the crime wasn’t aware Ian was in the building.

Still, I wondered if I should ask Jake about the case. So many emotions were conflicting lately as I’d done what I’d done with him, and memories of Ian had returned with a vengeance.

Finding myself aimlessly driving toward my home east of Montpelier, I see Jake as if thoughts of him conjured him up in my small town. He’s standing outside the old firehouse, and I slow to a stop before the ancient brick structure and roll down my window.

“Jake?” I call out in question although it’s definitely him. Slowly, he turns away from looking up at the two-story building.

“Hey,” he says as if shaking himself from deep thought. He steps over to my SUV and angles an arm against the roof.

“What are you doing in my neighborhood?” I tease, noticing my heart fluttering just from seeing him again up close.

“You live around here.” He lifts his head to glance up the street.

“Hampshire is my hometown.”

“Huh.” His sound leaves me stumped.

“Why are you looking at the old firehouse?”

Jake turns back toward the building before responding. “I’m curious about the place. I’d love to see inside.” The building is vacant as the county merged fire departments, building a newer community department outside of town a few years back.

“Hang on.” He steps away from my SUV, and I pull over to park along the curb. Searching for a phone number on my dash, I find who I’m looking for and make a quick call. When I exit my crossover, Jake is still standing in front of the old brick building. Two large bay doors flank the front to accommodate fire trucks, and a bell tower stands on the left side of the structure. It’s charming and a little enchanting.

“Come on,” I say, leading Jake to the front door.

“What are you doing?”

“This place is for sale. I know the realtor and gave her a call.” Once we stand before the main entrance, I lift the security lockbox and enter the code my realtor friend gave me.

As we enter the old lobby, a staircase leads to the second floor. I stand still, watching Jake spin in a slow circle around the entry. Eventually, I follow him up the narrow stairwell to the second floor, where rooms are sectioned off, and an old fireman’s pole leads below.

“Want to ride the pole?” he asks, wiggling his brows. I’m wearing heels with a skirt and a blouse today.

“Not certain how that would work in my present attire.”