LITMIR.BIZ

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didn’t tell him about her broken engagement. Or James’s deception.

      “Do you mind doing the layout Perry assigned you until you get the cartoon going?” he asked her.

      “No, it’s fine. I like helping with the artwork.”

      He nodded to her clothes. “That jacket’s a work of art itself.” It was several shades of pink and wine, like a patchwork quilt. Gold threads outlined each small square.

      “I made it.”

      “A woman of many talents.”

      They managed small talk while they ate their salads, then their meals arrived. She sipped the white wine he’d ordered for them both and cut the veal. “This is so tender, it melts in my mouth.”

      Again he watched her. Smiling. Hmm. Seemed as if he was interested. She wondered what he’d kiss like. Then she wondered what Alex would kiss like.

      The dinner finished pleasantly. “I’d like to see the rest of this place,” she told Toby. “I’ve only been in town two weeks and I’ve never been here. Would you mind if we looked around before we left?”

      “No, of course not. It’s cool. You’ll love the Wall.”

      “What’s that?”

      “I’ll show you.”

      He led her to the far side of the room to the Remembrance Wall. It was filled with names and pictures of rescue personnel who’d died in the line of duty. “This is remarkable.” Lauren ran her finger along the frames, studying the faces of the men and women who’d lost their lives saving others.

      “The Goodmans’ son is here.” Toby pointed to a picture.

      A young, redheaded boy stood, looking proud in his fire department blues. She saw so much life there, so much missed. It made her sad.

      “He was a paramedic. After he died, Larry and Louise put up this wall.”

      “A lovely tribute.”

      They headed to the back, to what was called the Function Room. She laughed when she saw it. It was a man’s paradise: three huge TVs, pool tables, darts and framed photos and articles around the perimeter. It even smelled male—with a faint hint of aftershave. “Did you write any of these articles?”

      “I’ve written some they’ve hung in the bar, though I don’t think there are any of mine in this room. I don’t hang out much in here. I’m not good at these games.”

      Lauren perused the pictures. One was captioned “Captain Saves Little Girl.” The captain was Alex. He was smiling broadly, holding a small child. His face was grimy, and he was dressed in turnout gear, which was dirt smeared. For a moment, she couldn’t take her eyes off him.

      She followed Toby, looking at other articles, photos and various memorabilia in the back room, then they went to the bar. More accolades were out there.

      More Alex. A casual shot of him with his crew. Lauren’s eyes zeroed in on a woman. Dana. Damn. She looked even more like Lauren in this picture.

      Toby gave voice to her thoughts. “She could be your twin.”

      Lauren peered over at him. “You must know her, Toby. Why didn’t you ever say anything about how much I resemble her?”

      He shrugged. “You’ve only been here two weeks. Truthfully, I thought maybe you were related, and since you didn’t say anything, you must not want to talk about it.”

      “That was thoughtful. But we’re not sisters, or anything else.”

      “Okay. Just fate, I guess.” He nodded to the wall. “Here’s an article I wrote.”

      She moved closer. Please don’t let it be about Alex.

      It was an off-the-job rescue. Alex had been out of town on vacation and drove past a house on fire. He’d spotted a kid in the window two stories up. He’d called 911 and then shinnied up a tree to rescue the child. On the way down, a limb had cracked and they’d fallen. The girl was fine, but Alex had broken his arm. He’d received a medal from the mayor for his actions.

      By the time they left the grill, Lauren felt she’d been to dinner with Alex Shields—he’d been in her thoughts so much and his pictures had been all around. Damn. She got her car from the newspaper office parking lot and drove home, wondering about her preoccupation with the man. She was distracted as she parked in the driveway, got out and hurried up to her house. When she had moved here, she’d wanted her own space. Since she had the money, she’d rented, with an option to buy, this small stucco one-story home on a quiet street. The landlord had even agreed to go half on any redecorating. She liked the place, she thought, as she reached the porch and unlocked the door.

      But once inside, she stopped in her tracks.

      It could be nothing, but…the room smelled different, almost like cologne. The scent was male.

      And the desk drawers were slightly ajar.

      And her throw pillows were on the floor.

      Lauren was neat, and knew she hadn’t neglected to close the drawers. She hadn’t scattered pillows on the floor before she’d left, either.

      With a sinking feeling, she realized somebody had been in her home.

      CHAPTER THREE

      ALEX STARED out at the second-graders and thought about the fact that by now he could have had a seven-year-old child. He was thirty-four. Sometimes he regretted that he hadn’t already married and started a family. Sometimes, he was glad as hell. Still, he wanted a woman to share his life with, to eventually have kids with. It just hadn’t happened yet.

      “Alex?” The teacher, Hannah Nielson, smiled up at him. She was engaged to his friend, Vince Wojohowitz, a cop, and Alex liked her. “You with us?”

      “Yeah, sorry I’m a little vague. I was on last night and we had calls.” Then, when he finally did get to sack out, he’d dreamed of…damn, he wasn’t going to do this.

      “Well, we’re ready to start if you are.”

      “Sure.”

      “Hannah?”

      Both of them turned to the door. Lauren. Jeez, what was fate up to here?

      “Hey, Lauren.” Hannah smiled. “Have you met Alex Shields, one of our bravest?”

      Lauren bit her lip. Some lipstick—the color of rum—came off on her teeth. “Yes, I have.” She smiled. “He’s the one who pulled me out of the fire.”

      Hannah’s brows arched. “Oh, Lord, I didn’t know that.”

      Lauren’s eyes filled with emotion. “I’m very grateful to our bravest.”

      “Just part of the job, ma’am. And those cookies you made—we feasted, I’ll tell you.”

      “I’m glad you liked them.”

      “What are you doing here?” he asked her.

      “I volunteer in Hannah’s classroom.”

      Hannah squeezed Lauren’s arm. “We were roommates at UCLA.”

      As with Toby Hanson, Lauren had thought it curious that Hannah hadn’t ever mentioned her likeness to Dana. She had asked about it earlier, and Hannah said she’d never met Dana personally in the year she’d been in Courage Bay. She associated more with Vince’s cop buddies. When Lauren had found a picture of her on the Net and showed Hannah, her friend had gasped at the similarity. She, too, found it hard to believe they weren’t related. Lauren wished people would stop saying that.

      “How about you?” Lauren asked. “Why are you here?”

      “Alex does most of the fire instruction in this school. I think he’s a frustrated teacher.”

      “Please,

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