much different from a battleship.”
Evie laughed. “I think it’s just the battery. I’ll get it fixed on my day off.”
“Which is?”
“October something.”
Ken smiled and propped a foot on the bench seat. He shoved his captain’s hat back and gave Evie his full attention.
“Running that place over there,” he said, gesturing at Starlight Point and the lights just starting to show against the twilight sky, “is no easy job. Especially for someone as young as you are.”
If someone else had said the same thing, Evie might have bristled. But she’d known Ken for years and knew he wasn’t judging her. She threw back her shoulders and tilted her chin up.
“I’m not young. Ask my feet. They’ll tell you I’m fifty-seven.”
Ken laughed. “When I was your age, the only thing I was good at running was my mouth. Although I learned pretty quick to keep it shut.”
Evie stepped off the boat and tucked her purse under her arm. “Good night, Ken. See you on tomorrow’s run.”
“’Night.”
Evie was several feet away when Ken’s question stopped her.
“Got your new marina open for business? I wasn’t able to come to the grand opening, but I saw the pictures of it in the paper a few days ago.”
Evie’s stomach sank like change thrown in a fountain.
“Almost,” she said. “I’m just short of a few regulations and we’ll be open before summer gets too far along.”
Ken rolled his eyes. “Tell me about regulations. I was in the navy twenty-five years and hope I never see another piece of paperwork.”
It was a beautiful evening, so she took the long way around to the front of her building, which housed her sister-in-law Augusta’s bakery on the street level and condos on the second and third floors. From her third-floor window, she had a view of the bay and Starlight Point.
From a distance. Something she was just getting used to. Growing up, Evie had always wanted to be at the Point. She’d resented moving away, even a hundred miles, to attend college. Always there was a lingering fear that somehow Starlight Point would change while she was gone.
And it had. Her father’s death near the end of her junior year had changed the Point forever. The life she had imagined for herself—working alongside her dad as his accountant and financial expert—disappeared. Instead she and her siblings inherited the park overnight because their mother handed it straight to the next generation. Growing up didn’t seem like such a treat anymore.
It was a responsibility and she was taking it seriously.
On her walk, she passed the Bayside fire station where the four overhead doors were open to the warm evening air. Shiny trucks lined up. Waiting.
Sometimes Evie felt like she was waiting, too.
Right now she was waiting for a certain fire inspector to get the burr out of his boots and approve her paperwork.
Maybe he’s in there.
Evie paused on the sidewalk in front of the wide concrete apron. She knew the tiny office the former fire inspector used was just inside the front doors. She’d been there several times to meet with the former inspector, who’d initially approved her plans. All she had to do was go past the shiny red pumper truck and make a quick right.
She crossed the concrete with the stealth of a trespasser, tempted to glance around to see if anyone was looking. Not that she was committing a crime. She had business there. It was a public building. The doors were open.
When she stepped under the overhang and into the relative darkness of the station, she stopped. The interior smelled like rubber tires, engine oil and something that could only be described as fire truck. She’d spent time in the fire office at the Point when she was growing up, sitting on the engine’s bumper and talking to the firefighters. But Starlight Point was only this quiet during the dead of winter.
“Hello?” she called. A call box was mounted to the inside wall with a note instructing people to press the red button in case of emergency. Getting her marina project back on track and getting her hotel renovation plans approved seemed like an emergency to her, but she was afraid of what might happen if she pressed that button. She pictured alarms, flashing lights and men racing for trucks while they threw on helmets and coats.
That would be too much excitement after a long day working at the Point, where she was in charge of resorts and safety. There, plenty of flashing lights, screaming people on the rides and millions of details competed for her attention. The quiet of the station calmed her mind, but only one thing would solve her problem.
Just as Evie laid her hand on the door to the office of the former fire inspector, a door to her left opened and a firefighter in navy blue from head to toe emerged. Caught.
The man glared at her as if she had burst into the bathroom while he was showering. Scott Bennett. After her ride in the fire truck with him a few days ago, she had made just enough inquiries to know the dark-eyed man who’d picked her up in the rain was also the one who’d picked apart her marina project.
And he’d obviously known who she was, although he hadn’t been brave enough to own up to it in the truck. Maybe he’d been hesitant because he was on her territory.
And she was on his right now.
“You’re just the man I need to see,” she said, attempting to force a cheerful tone.
Although it seemed impossible, his scowl deepened. “Is there a fire or other emergency?”
He sounded strangely hopeful. These guys operate on adrenaline. She would have to remember that.
“My marina needs your approval to open. The boating season is limited. I’m losing money every minute the docks and restaurant are closed. So, yes,” she said. “It may not seem like an emergency to you, but it is to me.”
Scott crossed his arms and looked down at her. Although Evie was five foot ten, Scott had her by several inches. With his broad shoulders and massive forearms, he seemed even larger. Perhaps it was the scowl.
Evie was not going to be intimidated, but honey might be more convincing than vinegar. The man was in the business of helping people, after all. He isn’t the enemy, right? And he had given her a ride in the fire truck on a rainy day.
But only because she was violating the No Pedestrians rule. And she owned that fire truck anyway.
Sigh. Honey. Not vinegar.
“Thank you for the ride a few days ago. Had I known you were the new fire inspector for the city, I would have invited you to my office to talk about our apparent violations.”
“Real violations.”
Maybe honey isn’t strong enough.
“Enlighten me,” Evie suggested.
Scott didn’t move. Arms crossed, he stared her down as if willing her to get out of his fire station.
Evie expected to be arrested for trespassing at any minute. She imagined her mother, old dog in tow, showing up at the police station to bail her out.
“I have an office, too,” he said. “You can come in.”
Such a friendly invitation.
Evie stood her ground. She knew where his office was. He’d have to walk by her to get to it.
Scott carefully avoided touching her as he squeezed past to open his office door. Evie wanted to laugh out loud. She was making him uncomfortable. Of course she was.
He may think he had some pedantic fire codes on his side, but she had been operating under approval from the former inspector. And she was his employer—one of them—for