“Figure out what you’re going to change?” Frankie fluttered her lashes like a Southern debutante at a cotillion.
“Change can be a good thing.” Roman inclined his head as if trying to puzzle her out. Well, good luck with that, hero, Frankie thought. Tougher men than you have tried.
“Can be. But I doubt it will be.” Frankie finished her coffee and three-pointed the paper cup into the trash. “If it’s a tour you’re looking for, Bud’s the expert. And as I have a few hours left on my day off, I’ll be going. Ozzy should be here in about an hour,” she told Bud as she squeezed between the men.
“It was nice to meet you, Frankie.” Roman stood up straight enough to let her pass. As she did, she caught the scent of sandalwood and heat, an odd and intoxicating combination for these early-winter days. “I’ll see you tomorrow, I’m sure.”
Frankie walked backward past the solitary engine, gave him her brightest smile and waved. “Count on it.”
She took her time, pricked her ears and felt her bad mood shift when she heard Roman’s low whistle.
“Why do I feel like I should be apologizing for something?”
“Because that’s Frankie Bettencourt,” Bud told him. “And because you took her job.”
CHAPTER TWO
AS FAR AS welcomes went, Roman figured his arrival in Butterfly Harbor had gone as well as he could have hoped.
During the cross-country drive, he’d created a specialized bingo board in his head. So after passing a hardware store that doubled as a postal annex, an ice-cream shop and a hole-in-the-wall abandoned newspaper office, along with a group of kids riding their bikes down the main thoroughfare, he was left with only one square from a win. If he didn’t know better, he’d think he’d traveled back in time—or through his television screen—and dropped into Happy Town, USA.
So far everything in the small West Coast town was what he’d expected. The weather was about as perfect as it could get for late November—midsixties, clear blue skies and a breeze that reminded him to be grateful for leaving the humidity of Florida behind. When he’d gotten out of his SUV, the first thing he noticed was that intoxicating scent of the ocean, the briny salt performing a tantalizing dance on his senses as he added exploring the marina—and possible boat rentals—to his list of things to do. He missed being out on the water, a frivolity he hadn’t allowed himself since he’d left Boston four years ago. The idea of riding the waves now struck a melancholy chord at the memory of time spent with his father, who took every opportunity to impart his knowledge and challenge Roman’s limitations on the open water.
Great. There was that sentimentality he’d been expecting, and with its arrival he ticked off the final box on his imaginary bingo card. Roman flipped through the list of department volunteers and attempted to get his mind back on his soon-to-be job.
One thing he hadn’t considered was discovering Captain Frankie Bettencourt had the power to knock him back a few steps. It was her hair that really caught his eye—that lava-fire hair with sharp streaks of gold that had him wondering if he’d ever seen a color like that. Add those sharp green eyes with an edge like a honed blade in a face that would have inspired even the most dormant of classical artists, and yeah, he might have fallen back a step or two. Before he reminded himself that in a matter of days he would be her boss.
He’d worked with his share of powerful, capable women before, but he suspected he might have met his match with Captain Bettencourt. Rather than apologize for what he interpreted as a borderline rude welcome, she hadn’t shied away from her abrupt greeting and subsequent interrogation. He liked that, not only in a woman, but in a partner. Straightforward, in-your-face, you-get-what-you-see honesty. After less than an hour in town, Roman had no doubt this job was definitely going to be interesting.
Chief Granger finished his call and, after hanging up, shifted his attention back to Roman. “Sorry about that. Thought I’d give the mayor a heads-up you’d hit town. He’d like to meet you when you get the chance.”
“Where can I find him? At his other job?” He didn’t recall passing by anything resembling a city hall or office building.
His question appeared to catch the current fire chief off guard. “Ah, being mayor of Butterfly Harbor is pretty much a full-time job.” Bud cringed and scrubbed a hand over his cheek. “I’d wait for his assistant to call you with an appointment. He’s out and about a lot, still finishing up the move into the recently renovated city hall. He was hoping to be out of their temp offices by Thanksgiving, but I’m betting it’ll be closer to Christmas. Which reminds me. December ninth is the city’s tree-lighting ceremony. I’d put that event on your schedule. It’ll be a required photo op for you with the mayor.”