Page 9 of Cakewalk

A short, stout redheaded woman in her early fifties walked over to them, a concerned look on her face. “Everyone get out?” she asked.

“Yeah, she was the only one inside,” Holden said, tilting his head to indicate Gigi.

“Good, but we’ll still need to get you checked out,” she said as an ambulance pulled up behind the sedan she’d gotten out of. “I’m Chief Horrigan, and I'll let you know once we have things under control.”

“Thanks, Chief,” Holden replied, his own stony expression unchanged. Turning to Gigi, he said, “You go see the EMTs.”

“I’m fine, just shaken up,” she said, not wanting to be any more trouble.

“Not up for discussion,” he barked. “Go see them. Now!”

Gigi flinched at his tone, stumbling back a step or two. His face was cold and mean, covered in a “don’t mess with me” look. She knew that look. She’d seen it many times before, only instead of it being on the face of someone tall, dark, and mysteriously sexy, it had been on her husband’s. So Gigi did the only thing she knew that she was good at.

Doing as I’m told…

* * *

Holden

"So, Mister…” Chief Horrigan said as she approached Holden, who was still just standing in the middle of his yard. The fire department had managed to get the fire out relatively quickly, but the chief had spent the last thirty minutes in the carriage house checking everything out.

“St. James,” he informed her, shaking her hand. “Holden St. James.”

“Mr. St. James, thankfully it was just a small kitchen fire.”

“Any idea on what started it?”

“From the looks of it, my guess is an over-greased baking pan. There seemed to be some charred paper on the bottom, so I’m thinking she must have set the pan down on the paper the butter comes in and not realized it was there before sticking it in the oven. If she bought some local stuff it’d be wrapped in wax paper rather than parchment, and that stuff isn't oven friendly. Although, with all that butter, even parchment is a risk,” she told him with a definitive nod. “Add in the limoncello…well, let’s just say gas ovens, flaming baked goods, and alcohol tend to be a bad combination. The cheap fabric the curtains were made of didn’t help anything either. No structural damage though, just cosmetic. Could maybe even do it yourself if you’re into that kind of thing,” she said, looking him up and down.

“Good to know,” he muttered, hoping he didn’t come off as rude. He wasn’t really looking for a home improvement project, but then again, he wasn’t exactly writing either, so maybe it was something to consider. “So, she’s fine to keep living there?”

They both looked over at Gigi who was sitting in the back of the ambulance wrapped in a large gray blanket. Her strawberry-blonde hair was a mess, pieces of ash weaving through it, and her face had black dirt streaks across it. Even sitting there with the remnants of the fire coating her, holding an oxygen mask to her face, she was cute. Something about her screamed to him to hold her and comfort her. But he’d also seen the shaken look in her eyes when he’d snapped at her a little bit ago. It was the same one she’d had when she had flinched after he accidentally made contact with her the other night in the apartment. There was definitely a lot more to Gigi Hawthorne than met the eye.

“Oh no. Not even close,” the chief said, turning back to Holden. “The particles from the smoke and soot are wicked dangerous, even after the fire is out. You’ll need to at least have the place professionally cleaned by a fire mitigation company before anyone inhabits that space again. I can give you the name of someone from Montpelier who can probably get that part taken care of in the next couple of weeks.”

Holden glanced back over at Gigi, who hadn’t moved at all. If she couldn’t move back into the apartment, where was she going to go? There weren’t a whole lot of options around here other than maybe the motor lodge, and that was probably not the best place for a single woman. Turning and looking back at the main house, he thought about the four unused bedrooms. Any one of those would be more than suitable for her to stay in. Hell, the room at the opposite end of the hall that connected to the hall bath was probably not much smaller than the carriage house apartment. But that would mean sharing common areas with her which, given the way his body reacted to her, might not be the best of ideas. He just didn’t know what he disliked more—the idea of turning her out on the street or the idea of her under the same roof.

“Yeah, that’d be great,” he said, turning back to the chief.

“Sure thing. And we’re almost done here, so we’ll be out of your hair soon.”

Holden nodded his thanks and sucked in a deep breath. Running his fingers through his hair, he tried to find it within himself to tell Gigi that she was technically homeless. Again. But even he wasn’t that much of an ass, was he?

Gigi looked up as he approached her, a defeated look in her eyes. That look immediately morphed into panic when he came to a stop in front of her. He hated that reaction.

“Hey, how ya feeling?” he asked.

“I’m fine!” she said, removing the oxygen mask. “I’m so sorry, Holden! I don’t even know how it happened. I was just trying to get the cupcake recipe right because Audrey said that there were some complaints and I don’t want to disappoint her and Zara! I’m so, so sorry!” she blurted out as she popped up from where she was sitting. The frantic look on her face seemed to radiate throughout her entire body, her petite frame shaking slightly as the blanket dropped to the ground.

“Is it ruined? I didn’t ruin the carriage house, right? I didn’t mean to, I promise!” she continued, seemingly oblivious to her own rambling. A tear slipped down her cheek, and Holden could tell she was fighting hard to not let any more show. “I’ll pay for it! Whatever the damage is, I’ll pay. I’m so, so sorry!”

“Whoa, whoa. Slow down,” he said, placing his hands on her shoulders. Slowly guiding her back to the ambulance, he eased her into her seat and grabbed the blanket to wrap back around her. An EMT appeared from around the vehicle and handed her the mask again, giving her a look that could only be construed as, “don’t move.”

“The carriage house will be okay. Just smoke damage. Apparently nothing a professional cleaning and some trips to the hardware store can’t fix.”

“Oh, thank heavens,” she said, her voice cracking slightly with emotion.

“But…the chief says it’s uninhabitable for a while.”