A Firefighter in the Family. Trish Milburn

shrugged. “Not really. Could be anyone, granted you’ve determined it’s arson.”

      “So no one stands out from the crowd?”

      She seemed genuinely interested, despite his defensive attitude. But it was her job to investigate every possibility. He didn’t keep track of the locals like he used to. Most of his contact was with tourists and any residents who ventured into the Beach Bum.

      He didn’t really have close connections with anyone despite the time he’d lived there. The few friendships he’d begun to build after moving to Horizon Beach had collapsed the minute the “evidence” pointed at him two years before. Adam was the only person he could call a good friend here, though he had regular customers and neighbors with whom he enjoyed talking. Now that he looked at it like that, it seemed crazy to stay. But something about this slice of coastline had kept him from selling his home and moving on. At first, part of that reason had been a hope that Randi would return and he’d find a way to apologize. That, plus he was stubborn and didn’t like being pushed around.

      “No one in particular. There was a general dislike of the guy and the project. You could probably find a so-called motive for about three-quarters of the residents. People like it to stay the same here, and a fifteen-story building didn’t really fit in.”

      “It’s hard to stop change sometimes.”

      Zac glanced toward the burned building. “Looks like someone decided you could.”

      Randi didn’t look at the building. Instead, she kept staring at Zac. He let the silence sit there like an unwanted guest. But instead of giving in and asking other questions, Randi didn’t lose her focus.

      Zac turned his gaze slowly toward Randi when he sensed her continued stare. “You’ve turned into a tough cookie, haven’t you?”

      “Some would say so.” This morning, she hid her emotions so well that he couldn’t tell whether she considered it a compliment or whether she was remembering how people like him had forced her to harden herself.

      “I’m betting some of those are sitting in prison with arson convictions hanging around their necks.”

      Randi walked to the end of the pier and leaned back against the railing. “You’d win that bet.”

      Zac watched her, wary but also missing the little T-shirt she’d worn the night before. “I’m not planning on joining them, particularly since I’m innocent.”

      “Don’t worry. I’ve never sent an innocent man to prison.”

      “You sure of that?”

      She didn’t flinch from his stare or question. “Positive.”

      “You’re definitely a Cooke.”

      Her expression tightened. “And by that you mean?”

      “So sure you can’t be wrong.” Zac took a step toward Randi but stopped when Thor sprang to attention at her side, evidently ready to chomp off an appendage with his powerful jaws if necessary. “Everyone is wrong at some point.”

      Her gaze caught his, and unspoken words about the past swirled between them. He nearly told her he was sorry for siding with her brothers, for saying her going into that fire had led to her father’s catastrophic injury, but enough arrogant Cooke flared in those blue eyes to raise his hackles.

      “Just make sure you’re the only one you hurt when you’re so sure,” he said.

      “That’s rich, coming from you.”

      There it was, a hint of the hurt that resided below her steely, distant exterior. Damn it if his feelings didn’t soften a little.

      “Like I said, everyone’s wrong at some point.”

      Zac grabbed his fishing rod and walked the length of the pier toward the parking lot. If he didn’t get away from Randi, he was going to do something crazy like pull her into his arms. He didn’t have that right anymore. And even if she didn’t consider him a suspect in the fire, he doubted her belief in him extended an inch beyond that. As he left her behind, the thought hurt. He deserved the pain.

      

      RANDI WATCHED as Zac walked away, stunned by what had sounded halfway like an apology for how he’d treated her before. But his command that she should be certain she didn’t hurt someone when she was wrong had brought guilt and pain to the surface, emotions she needed tucked well away while she worked. It felt incredibly wrong to have those feelings while also appreciating the mighty nice picture he painted as he walked away in worn jeans and a T-shirt that had seen approximately eight billion washings. And the resurgence of feelings more serious than simple attraction didn’t help.

      The old wound she’d thought long buried felt raw against snippets of their time together—walks on the beach, flirtatious whispers to each other at the fire station, the night she’d finally felt comfortable enough to make love with him. Their lovemaking had still filled her senses when they’d been called to that fateful fire. Her heart ached when she remembered how he’d looked at her afterward—with anger and accusation.