like Grandma had.
No, she definitely wasn’t Cody’s type any more than he was hers. But as she climbed the staircase ahead of him, his gaze was on her ass. She doubted she was just imagining it because it was so palpable she could almost feel it. The elaborate polished oak staircase was extra wide; he could have walked beside her, like a gentleman, but he was taking the opportunity to ogle her instead.
Settling in a boarder was her job, not another tenant’s, or she would have had Stanley show Cody to his room. They would both be on the second floor. Fortunately, her room was not; she lived in the attic, which had been converted to a studio apartment long ago.
As she reached the second-floor landing, she expelled a shaky breath of relief. She was almost there. But a strong hand closed around her wrist, stopping her. Her skin tingled beneath his touch.
“What’s up there?” Cody gestured toward the narrower flight of stairs that led to the third floor.
“My private quarters,” she said. She had no intention of ever letting him up to the small space dominated by her great-grandmother’s old brass bed.
She tugged free of his grasp and headed down the hall toward the room at the end. As Cody followed, she hurried past all the six panel mahogany doors. As she passed an open one, she pointed. “There’s the bathroom. There are two on this floor. One on this side of the stairwell and one on the other side.”
He nodded but he didn’t even glance inside the room—which was good since she still needed to clean it. His gaze remained on her; it was so intense that her hand shook as she reached for the doorknob for his room.
“And this is where you’ll be staying.”
She had put him in the biggest second-floor room, which was also the most masculine with its mahogany trim, dark stained wood floor, and navy blue walls. She stepped back to let him pass her. But he brushed against her anyway, his chest and hip bumping into hers.
Something flared in his green eyes. Or maybe it had already been there—an intensity that unnerved her. As she held out the room key to him, her hand shook so much that she dropped it. He leaned down to pick it up, and his soft hair whispered across her bare legs.
Despite the heat, she shivered. “I should have opened the window,” she murmured and hurried over to it. She needed the air. More than that, she needed the distance from him. But even though it was the biggest bedroom, it wasn’t big enough for her to escape his presence.
She threw up the sash, but no breeze blew in through the window. Not a tree limb or leaf moved in the woods that surrounded the house. She drew in a deep breath and turned back toward Cody.
Now he was leaning over the duffel bag he’d dropped onto the red-and-blue plaid bedspread. His jeans were faded and so worn at the seams that she caught glimpses of blue underwear through the thin material.
Sweat trickled down between her shoulder blades. He was so damn sexy. It wasn’t fair.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured.
He glanced up in surprise. “What are you sorry about? The room is great.”
She was sorry about the air. But since he hadn’t mentioned it, she didn’t either. She gestured toward his duffel bag. “I’m sorry your cabin burned down.”
“You didn’t do it,” he said. His eyes narrowed, but a grin curved up the corners of his mouth. “Unless you’re confessing to being the arsonist...”
She uttered a kind of you-caught-me sigh. “If I was, I’d be pretty stupid letting a fireman move in.” Her decision had been stupid, though, because she was already under enough stress. Now she had to fight her attraction to him, too.
“I’m sorry that you lost everything in that fire,” she clarified.
He chuckled. “I didn’t have much to lose,” he said. “I travel light—because I travel often.”
Was he warning her? He needn’t have bothered. Her friends had already done that. They’d thought he might ask to stay at her boardinghouse when his cabin had burned down.
“Well, I’ll leave you to unpack,” she said.
“I usually don’t bother,” he told her.
Of course he wouldn’t be staying long. So she would have to apply for that loan quickly—before he left. “I’ll be in the office if you need me,” she murmured as she hurried for the door.
She doubted he would need her. So she settled back into her office with a glass of iced tea. She fished an ice cube from the glass and pressed it to her throat. She could almost feel it sizzle against her hot skin. She would like to blame the lack of air-conditioning for why she was so overheated. But she suspected that wasn’t the only reason now—not with Cody Mallehan moving in.
Knuckles rapped against wood, startling her. She dropped the ice cube, which slid down her neck to disappear between her breasts.
She glanced up to find Cody leaning against the frame of the pocket door to her office. Hopefully he was on his way out.
“Want me to get that for you?” he asked, his mouth curving into a wicked grin. Now he was flirting with her?
Had he refrained earlier so that she would let him move in? Serena could still ask him to leave, if it got too uncomfortable—more uncomfortable than the ice cube melting in her cleavage.
Her brain muddled, she could only murmur, “It’s hot...”
Hotter now that he was here. His green eyes twinkled with amusement—and something else—as he studied the wet trail the cube left on the front of her shirt.
“It’s damn hot,” he agreed.
Maybe it was because of the way he was staring—or maybe it was because of the ice cube—but her nipples tightened inside her lacy bra and pushed against the thin material of her tank top.
“I have a repairman coming out to fix the air-conditioning,” she said.
Or she would have the technician come out, as soon as she came up with enough money for the service call and whatever else he might charge to get the old unit functioning again. But she didn’t want Cody to know that; she couldn’t afford to lose a renter, especially now.
And that was why she had to ignore the attraction she felt for him. A man like Cody wouldn’t stay in the home of a woman he’d slept with. He was definitely the love ’em and leave ’em type. That part of the rumors she’d heard was true, she knew—or he wouldn’t be renting a room from her. He’d be living with one of his lovers.
“I didn’t realize the air was out,” he said. And that wicked grin widened.
He was definitely flirting with her. Her pulse quickened. He shouldn’t be flirting.
But then he probably didn’t care if he stayed in her house or not. Eventually the US Forest Service would rebuild his cabin. Or he’d go back to staying in the firehouse where she’d heard he’d been sleeping since the last fire.
Remembering how the flames and smoke had painted the sky red and black over Northern Lakes, she shuddered. The fire had come too close to the house—licking at the trees at the edge of her property.
“I thought you were hot,” he said. “But now you’re shivering.”
She sighed. “I was just thinking about the arsonist—how he could strike again at any time...” Which was another good reason to have a firefighter living in her house.
The flirty sparkle of amusement left his green eyes, leaving them dark and hard. His voice gruff with emotion and determination, he said, “We are going to catch him.”
She nodded. “I know.”
He released a ragged breath. “That’s where I’m heading now. The whole Hotshot team is having a meeting at the firehouse. I just popped in to your office to