Hearts on Fire 2: Michaela (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 2

  The woman was new in town from what his secretary, Joyce, had told him. She had purchased the old Fenniger home at the end of Burgon Point. That place needed a shitload of work done to it. He wondered whom she was and all he could find out was that she came from Chicago. She was definitely capable of handling herself, but she should have let him resolve that situation. He could understand her need to defend herself as Leonard took advantage and began to fondle her. It pissed him off, immediately made him see red, as Leonard touched her.

  She was a good-looking woman. Young, maybe in her twenties, and she was built well. The guys were all standing around waiting to find out who she was and whether or not she was single. Jackasses. She was just a victim and now they wanted to hit on her.

  Just then the door to the restroom opened and the woman came out. Her blouse was buttoned further up than before and he felt the bit of disappointment. He cleared his head, the one on his shoulders, and reminded himself that he’d just made fun of his staff for wanting to hit on the woman.

  “Miss?”

  She locked gazes with him, looking straight up into his eyes. She was a petite thing compared to him. She had long brown hair and deep blue eyes, and the prettiest face he had ever seen.

  “Your name?”

  “Michaela.”

  He reached out his hand.

  “Sheriff McCurran. Would you please follow me into my office?”

  “Is it safe?” she asked. At first he thought she needed reassurance, but as she started walking ahead of him, he realized it was a wiseass comment. The woman had spunk, add that to the list.

  “So you came here to get the documents you needed to remove the car from your new property. Sorry I wasn’t here to meet you right away. I had a situation downstairs.”

  “I assume it wasn’t as intense as the ‘situation’ upstairs with Leonard.”

  He eyed her over as she sat in a chair in front of his desk, legs crossed, eyes filled with attitude and fire. And he noticed she was shaking and hadn’t accepted his offer of something to drink. She clasped her hands and started moving her foot. She was nervous, perhaps still recovering from the incident.

  “Listen, if you can just give me the paperwork so that the tow truck can remove the vehicle that would be great. I can get the hell out of here and head home to all the work the place needs.”

  “I can’t do that. When we processed the request, it came up as still being owned by Mr. Fenniger.”

  She sat forward. “What? How can that be when Mr. Fenniger is dead?” she asked.

  “Something to do with his estate and lawyers, I guess.”

  “I swear if that damn thing ran, I would drop it somewhere a few towns over.” She shook her head and then lowered her eyes.

  “Now that would be illegal.” He winked after she looked at him incredulously and chuckled.

  She shook her head. “Okay, I really need to get going. I was hoping to start working on the house on Monday. The car is in the way of the Dumpster I ordered. What can I do to get this moving?”

  “A Dumpster? You gutting the place?”

  “Sort of.”

  “Who’s doing the work?” he asked.

  “Someone from the area. Listen, I really need to go. I have to get ready for work and still need to get back to the house. What is the next step?” she asked.

  He stared at her, and he couldn’t deny the attraction he felt. He wondered if she felt it, too. If she did, she wasn’t giving any indication of it at all. Usually women saw the uniform and went all flirty on him. This woman seemed as if she could care less or perhaps was even turned off by his profession. Could she have some sort of past run-in with the law? When she first entered his office, she was pissed off and snappy. But she was also ready to bolt. Maybe she was just shy. She was new to town.

  “Let me see what I can do. If there is a way to get it taken care of, I’ll do it. Being the sheriff and growing up around here, I pretty much know everyone. I’ll be in touch. Is this all your contact information?” he asked, looking over the documents she’d filled out. It would have to be filed with the charges against Leonard.

  “Yes. My cell phone is best to reach me at. Thank you.” She stood up and reached out her hand for him to shake. Of course he did, and as their hands touched, he was shocked by the attraction as well as the size of her small hand in his much larger one.

  “See you soon.”

  She gave a small smile, pulling her hand from his, and then exited the room.

  He glanced out between the blinds and saw the deputies saying good-bye and trying to stop her so she would talk to them, but she just smiled and waved, practically running for the exit.

  He hoped to see her again, and even though he could take care of the problem with the car with one phone call, he planned on taking care of it personally and making a trip out to her new home. He wanted to see her again. She was that beautiful. He felt the slight ache in his chest and he shouldn’t.

  Their relationship with Lisa was over for three years now. It was time for him and his brothers, Billy and Hal, to move on.

  Chapter 1

  It had been a stressful few days. She had spoken to Alonso after the incident at the sheriff’s department on Thursday. He wanted to call the sheriff and give him the heads-up on her case, and of course, Michaela begged him not to.

  They talked about the job she took as a bartender for Thursday and Friday nights just for fun and to take her mind off of the case. He assured her that she was safe where she was and that there hadn’t been any sign of Carlucci, who they believed hired the hit man who shot her. Solomon, Annette’s boyfriend, who’d disappeared following the shooting, was still missing. They didn’t know if Solomon was dead or alive. Nor was there any indication that either man would come looking for her. She had been a victim caught in the middle of a violent crime.

  Why she even left Chicago to try to help her sister, she’ll never know. It was her last try at saving Annette from the addiction. She thought about where both of them had wound up, Annette six feet under, and Michaela starting a new life in New Jersey but still unable to trust a soul except for Alonso.

  Deep down, she hoped that both men did show up. Dead.

  She couldn’t understand why Carlucci or Solomon would want to contact her. Carlucci wasn’t even officially being investigated. The detectives working the case believed that Carlucci, or a close affiliate, hired the man to kill Annette. That person, if identified and caught, would be charged in connection to the murder of her sister, and for the attempted murder of Michaela. The detectives were also searching for Solomon, the piece of shit weasel, as an accessory to murder or at minimum a witness to the crime. The jerk left his own girlfriend there to die. Michaela, too. She knew she didn’t like the guy the moment her sister introduced them to one another.

  But weeks after she was shot, her apartment was ransacked, and it looked as if someone was searching for something. Then five weeks later when she was past recovery and trying to get her life back on track, someone ransacked her apartment again and this time left a message saying that they would be back.

  As Alonso investigated the case, they became friends, and he started helping her get over her fears and to physically as well as mentally train her. He was a wonderful man and a great person. She smiled just thinking about him and then laughed. They had thought about dating, but it didn’t work out. They realized after one kiss that they were better off as friends.

  Her first weekend working at The Station had been a lot of fun. Surrounded by first responders, mostly firefighters and EMS workers, she laughed a lot and found their professions admirable. So many men had also never hit on her in one night. She was a bit surprised to find out that the sheriff’s father owned the place along with his longtime partner, Jerome.

  Burt McCurran found out about the incident at the sheriff’s department and had a chuckle over what she had done. She, however, was hoping to avoid being noticed, and her plan to stay under the radar blew up in her face.
Now here she was trying to make the small, near-condemnable house into a home. But she was good at handiwork like this. She had learned a lot from her father years ago and his construction business, long before his alcoholism and disability took his life.

  Sighing, she pulled back the last layer of crappy Sheetrock and stared around at the mess. She wished that damn Dumpster was closer to the house, but since the abandoned car still remained in the driveway and she hadn’t heard from the sheriff with a resolution, she had to haul all the scrap to the road. Just her luck.

  At this rate she wouldn’t need to find a gym to join.

  Michaela pulled the wiring from between the beams and gathered it along the way to the outlet. The wires were crap, the outlet needed to be replaced, and electrical work was not something to take lightly. She knew basics, but as she pulled the wires from the connection, knowing she had shut off the power box downstairs that supplied power to this area, she was shocked when it sparked.

  It sounded like little firecrackers going off, and soon the damn thing was on fire, spreading a thin line up the wall the rest of the length of the wire she just pulled.

  “Fuck!” she yelled out as she slammed the hammer against the wire, trying to stop it from igniting. That wouldn’t work, so she reached back and pulled the small fire extinguisher from the bag of supplies she’d just bought at the local Home Depot. She peeled off the plastic covering, cursing a mile a minute as it wouldn’t budge so she bit into the plastic, spit out pieces, and bit into it again as the flames increased.

  “I don’t need this shit.” She just got the plastic off and aimed the fire extinguisher at the small fire when she heard the voice.

  “Oh shit.”

  She had been spraying the flames, putting them out, but as she heard the voice, she turned, her hand still squeezing the device and shot the sheriff with the chemical.

  “What the hell!” he yelled out, covering his head and ducking around the corner.

  She had stopped pretty quickly but not quickly enough to avoid getting the stuff on his shirt and his pants.

  “I’m so sorry,” she exclaimed, half looking over her shoulder, making sure the fire was extinguished and half cringing from shooting the sheriff with the stuff.

  “Are you okay?” he asked her, walking closer to her. She was still holding the fire extinguisher, and the sheriff was wearing regular clothing, not his uniform. He looked incredible. She pressed her hand down her dusty shorts, self-conscious about her outfit. Standing up, she realized how much taller the man was in comparison to her.

  His arm muscles were huge, his chest wide and intimidating, and his hands extra large as they slowly took the canister from her hands.

  “I’ll take that. What the heck happened?” he asked, looking at the damage as he set the extinguisher down near the doorway and brushed off his black camo pants. Her eyes had a mind of their own as they trailed over his ass, snug and sexy in the military pants. Was he in the military at some point? Or was he a wannabe? She wondered.

  “The freaking place is wired all shitty. I disconnected the power from the circuit box downstairs, but I guess it is labeled wrong or just all messed up.”

  “You need some help figuring that out?”

  She stared at him with her hands on her hips as he looked her over. She was glad that the tank top covered her scar along her chest. She didn’t want to get asked all the questions, and she wasn’t going to tell anyone what had happened.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked with a bit more attitude than she intended.

  “I came by to let you know that I took care of the car situation. Got the title right here, and you can get it towed out first thing Monday morning. I wrote down a name of a friend of mine in town who has a tow truck service.” He handed her the paper. When she took it from his hand, he held hers firmly a second longer.

  He glanced around the place as she looked over the letter.

  “This is great. I wish it came earlier though. I had to have the Dumpster parked in the road.”

  “No one complained, did they?” he asked.

  “The neighbors? No way, they seem thrilled that I’m going to clean up the place. It is an eyesore with no curb appeal.”

  “Why did you buy this place?” he asked, looking around the room. He trailed his hand along the wood railing that separated the entryway from the living room.

  “I think it has charm, or at least will have it when I’m finished.”

  “I thought you said you hired someone to do the renovations.”

  “I said the person was local. It’s me.” She took the letter and placed it in a drawer by a desk that was neatly set up by the front hallway. She had done that area first, wanted to do the living room and then the kitchen. Hopefully the bedrooms after that.

  “You’re doing the construction yourself?”

  She crossed her arms in front of her chest, not even realizing she made her boobs stand out more until the sheriff’s eyes grazed her cleavage and then looked up toward her face.

  “I know what I’m doing.”

  “Didn’t seem that way when I got here,” he teased and winked.

  She shook her head. “Totally not my fault, but it’s to be expected in a dump this old.”

  “How about the circuit box? You need help labeling it so something like this doesn’t happen again?”

  “I can handle it. Thanks.”

  “How can you check and label if the circuit breaker box is in the basement and all the rooms and lights are upstairs?”

  Duh, he was right. She couldn’t. “You don’t need to be anywhere else right now?”

  “Nope. I’m off today, but I know how desperate you were to get rid of the car.”

  “I appreciate that. Let me just grab something to label the switches with. You can turn the stuff on and yell down to me.”

  “I think I’ll bring along this fire extinguisher,” he said and winked.

  * * * *

  It had taken them a good thirty minutes to label all the circuits and secure them. It had given Jake an opportunity to try and see who Michaela was. She didn’t have a lot of belongings, but she did have books out on renovating old homes and other things like that, and her bedroom was meticulous. He could smell the fresh paint on the walls, and what looked like a work in progress of a mosaic on one wall of the room. Whatever it was going to be, it was already impressive.

  “Hey, who did this painting?” he called down to her again, as she said they had gotten the last switch identified.

  He heard her footsteps as she climbed the old staircase. He noticed she had a book on restoring that as well.

  “What did you ask?” She stood in the doorway but didn’t enter. He motioned with his hand.

  “This, whose painting is this?” he asked.

  She walked in, but she appeared guarded, as she uncrossed her arms.

  “Oh, it’s nothing, just something I’ve been working on.”

  “You painted this?” he asked and then squatted down to view the bottom half of the scene. “It looks like something from Italy.”

  He glanced up at her and she squinted her eyes and looked unimpressed. She obviously was a hard critic of her own work. Her talent, and also her ability to take on the house in its condition, impressed him.

  “What, you don’t think so?” he asked, standing back up.

  “It’s nowhere near completion. It was just an idea I had in my head. I might paint over it anyway.” She headed out of the room.

  “Don’t even think of doing that. It’s really good, Michaela. How long have you been painting for?”

  She rubbed her left arm, something she seemed to do whenever he asked her something personal. It seemed to be a nervous twitch. But what would a young, beautiful woman like Michaela need to be worried about?

  “It doesn’t matter. I have so much to do with this house. And now it seems like I might need an electrician.” He followed her out of the bedroom and down the narrow hallway. Up here, she looked real
ly petite in comparison to him. And young. Too damn young if he could resist her beauty and interest.

  Her long brown hair was pulled into two braided pigtails, making her seem even more youthful, but a gaze over her round, full ass, slender hips, and of course her large breasts, and he knew damn well she wasn’t too young. Her personality, physical appearance, and more natural beauty, were the complete opposite of Lisa.

  He felt only a slight tinge of guilt and sadness thinking of her at the moment and comparing her to Michaela. They were so different and he couldn’t think of one thing so far that the two women had in common.

  Lisa was high maintenance, high class, with money and a need for the best. He and his brothers fell for her acting job about them being meant for one another. It hadn’t been until they were in bed with her and her insistence that they do things with other people that it hit home. She wanted an orgy, not a committed ménage relationship. She thought it was sexy and fun, and it took catching her in bed with two other men for them to realize she’d scammed them. But they cared about her. They had trusted her and gave her their hearts and she stomped on them and destroyed the whole meaning behind a ménage relationship.

  Then they tried working things out and they got back together.

  Then she hit them with the best and worst news ever as they battled in yet another argument over her wants and desires. He cringed from the memory of her words as they struck through his heart and his brothers’.

  “Would you like some ice tea?” Michaela interrupted his thoughts.

  He shook the bad memories from his head as he followed her into the kitchen.

  “Sure. Thank you.”

  He looked around the kitchen and saw the same thing as the other rooms. It needed work but had actually been in better shape than he thought it would be.