Red Hot In The Mountains (Greene Mountain Boys #14)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

Ethan

“Ethan!” Doug yells from the front desk of the firehouse. “There’s someone here to see you!”

I close my eyes.

Mason snorts out a laugh.

“How many this month?” Lincoln asks as he deals the cards.

“Three?” Colton says, trying to remember.

“No, four,” Mason corrects. “Someone came last night but he wasn’t here.”

We’re in the back of the firehouse, the four of us playing cribbage. James is in the corner, pounding the heavy bag with his bare fists like the thing just insulted his wife.

“ETHAN!” Doug screeches like a banshee.

Mason’s shoulders start shaking as he giggles. The prick is loving this.

“It’s not funny,” I say, glaring at him.

“It’s pretty funny,” he replies, giggling louder.

He’s on my team and we put in five bucks each for the winners.

“We forfeit,” I say, tossing my cards on the cribbage board. “Funny now?”

“Hey!” Mason shouts as I stand up. Lincoln and Colton grab our cash with a laugh. “You can’t do that!”

I hear them squabbling over the money as I take a deep breath and head into the front.

“Good luck,” James grunts as I pass him, the chain rattling with every hard hit.

“Thanks,” I mutter back. I knew this damn fireman calendar was a bad idea. I didn’t want to do it. I still don’t know how I got talked into it. We’re not even halfway through the damn month and I’m already wanting to hide in a cave somewhere in the mountains.

Doug pops his head around the corner, grinning like he’s delivering good news. “She’s cute.”

That does not help.

I take a deep breath, suddenly feeling tired as I walk around the corner into the front. I go this way so the front desk will be a barrier between us.

Her face lights up when she sees me.

I force out a smile.

She is cute. And she has a nice smile. That just makes me feel even worse that I’m going to have to let her down.

She’s wearing a sundress with her blonde hair all done up, flawless makeup on. She’s holding a basket—an actual basket—with gardening tools inside. There’s a trowel, gardening gloves, and a few seed packets. There’s also a huge red bow tied to the handle.

“It’s you,” she says like we already know each other. “Mr. April.”

“Ethan,” I correct.

“Of course,” she says, stepping forward.

I resist the urge to step back.

“I’m Rachel,” she says, staring at me without blinking, a huge, slightly-creepy smile on her face. “I’ve been watching you… On the calendar.”

I swallow hard. “Oh yeah?”

I’m praying for the fire alarm to go off so I have an excuse to jump on the truck and speed out of here.

This damn calendar. When is this nightmare of a year going to be over?

I did it to raise money for the library after it burned down. I didn’t expect the thing to go viral. And I certainly didn’t expect it to give me an army of stalkers. I never would have agreed to that.

I like to keep to myself and stay quiet. I’ve always been uncomfortable with that kind of attention. I’d rather blend in rather than being looked at and this stupid calendar has left me feeling exposed in a way I’ve never felt before.

I don’t like it.

I like being needed by the community, but I don’t care for being desired by random women. The other guys may like it, but it’s not my thing.

“I brought you something,” she says, lifting the basket and putting it on the counter. “I could tell from your picture that you like gardening.”

Doug, watching from the doorway, lets out a low appreciative whistle. “Classy move.”

I take the basket because not taking it feels rude, even though I immediately regret it. She’s going to take it as a positive sign and that’s not a good thing. “That’s… thoughtful.”

All of this… It feels… exposing. Like something private got dragged into the open without my permission.

I was gardening on the roof of the firehouse when James’ girl, Victoria, snapped the photo of me.

It’s a closeup taken from below. I’m shirtless, wearing my suspenders and firefighter pants, mid-laugh.

My dirty hands are cupped together and there’s a small mound of soil in them with a tiny green sprout standing proudly.

Rachel takes a deep breath and puffs out her chest. “I was wondering if maybe you’d like to grab a drink sometime? Or coffee? Or—”

I don’t let her finish. I keep my voice calm. Gentle. Respectful.

“I’m really flattered,” I say honestly. “But I’m not looking to date right now.”

Her smile flickers. Just a little. “Oh.”

“I’m sorry.”

She nods quickly, too quickly. “No, that’s okay. I just thought I’d try.”

She yanks the basket out of my hands before I can say another word, turns, and practically runs out without looking back. The bell over the door jingles as the door closes, too cheerful for how awkward the moment feels.

I stand there for a second, staring at nothing.

Doug explodes, throwing his arms in the air.

“You turned her down?!” he shouts. “Are you serious?”

I sigh and head into the back. “Yeah.”

“Why?” Doug demands, following hot on my heels. “She was hot. She brought gifts. What more do you want, man?”

“Gifts?” Mason asks, perking up. “Anything to eat?”

“No,” Doug says. “Gardening tools.”

“Oh,” Mason says, sinking back down, looking disappointed.

My head is spinning. What more do I want? What is wrong with me?

She seemed perfectly nice. She looked like the kind of girl that I could bring home to my family. That my mom and sisters would like.

I just…

I don’t know.

Maybe I’ll know it when I see it.

Or maybe I’ll be single forever.

“There’s no way I’m going to be turning down the girls that come to me next month,” Doug says, shaking his head. “Mr. May is going to be doing it Duggystyle all month long.”

Mason snorts. “He thinks girls will be lining up for him.”

“My picture was hot,” Doug says, indignant.

“Who told you that?” Mason asks with a smirk. “Your mom?”

“She has good taste,” Doug says without a hint of irony.

The guys all laugh. Doug looks confused as usual.

“You’ll see,” Doug says, turning red. “The chicks will love me. I’m Mr. May.”

Mason grins. “Yeah. Mr. May-Need-to-Lower-Your-Expectations.”

“Mr. May-Contain-Traces-of-Delusion,” James says between punches on the heavy bag.

“Mr. May-Need-a-Restraining-Order,” Lincoln adds.

Colton chuckles. “Mr. May-Need-His-Freaking-Head-Checked.”

Doug scoffs. “Yeah, more like, Mr. May—” He looks up at the ceiling, unable to think of anything.

Footsteps echo on the metal stairs, saving Doug. Our Captain, Graham, comes down, all calm authority, eyes sweeping the room.

“Doug. Ethan. You’re on tonight.”

Doug’s jaw drops. “What? It’s Fight Night.”

Graham doesn’t blink. “It’s your turn to miss it.”

Doug deflates instantly. “I hate missing Fight Night.”

On the first Thursday of every month, The Cracked Barrel Saloon hosts Fight Night—bareknuckle fighting matches in the cage in the back of the bar. James is one of the stars, although he’s fighting less since he got together with the town librarian, Victoria.

I’m not sad to miss it. Violence is not really my thing.

Doug is already sulking as he digs into his wallet and shoves cash at Lincoln. “Put three hundred on James.”

Lincoln takes it and peels off the first couple of bills. “I get twenty-five percent for placing the bet.”

“What?!” Doug yells. “No you don’t!”

Lincoln shrugs. “House rules.”

“That’s not a house rule!”

“Just made one,” Lincoln says.

“With no vote?” Doug says, exasperated.

“Who votes that I should take twenty-five percent?” Lincoln says.

“Aye!” everyone shouts, except for Doug and Graham.

“Rule ratified,” Lincoln says, making a show of putting Doug’s money in his breast pocket.

“Damn,” Doug hisses under his breath.

I know the guys are just messing with him. Lincoln will place the full bet and Doug will win, because James never loses.

I take a deep breath and head for the stairs.

“Looks like it’s you and me tonight, big guy,” Doug calls after me. “Maybe we cruise around town with the lights on? Mr. April and Mr. May getting all the pussy.”

Mason grins. “Yeah, Mr. April and Mr. May-Need-Therapy.”

Lincoln snorts. “Mr. April and Mr. May-Be-Why-HR-Exists.”

They keep ribbing on him as I head up the stairs.

I just need some quiet.

I head up to the roof and take a deep breath of the cool mountain air as I look around at the stunning view. I love it up here. The Greene Mountains can’t be beat. It’s paradise.

The stunning peaks jut up into the sky all around me like they’re keeping us safe from the outside world. This beats any white-sand beach in my opinion.

Bubba—our firehouse pug—is laying in the sun beside my planters, snoring his head off. He whimpers in his sleep as I kneel beside him and sink my hands into the cool soil.

I love that smell. It grounds me instantly.

It always makes me feel like I’m back home in Oregon.

My family are all doctors. My parents and my three older sisters. All doctors.

I was always the odd one out. Sometimes I thought I must’ve been switched at birth.

But we always shared gardening. We always had that in common. Every weekend, we gardened together as a family.

The gardens back home on my parents’ property are massive. They’ve been featured in magazines. They’re incredible. My mother’s roses win awards every year.

That’s the one thing I miss about living over here. I miss gardening with them all.

But when I’m working in my garden up here on the roof, it feels like I’m right back there at home with them all, surrounded by all that love.

Bubba wakes himself up with a loud snore and lifts his head, looking confused.

“Good morning,” I say as I pluck a ripe cherry tomato off the plant.

Bubba waddles over and plops his heavy head on my thigh. He sniffs the tomato, then licks it.

I laugh and pet his head. “We’ll save that one for Doug.”

I get my hands dirty, weeding the gardens and planting some seeds. I transfer some seedlings that are starting to sprout into the large garden that’s on the side parallel to the main road.

That’s when I catch sight of another girl approaching the firehouse down below. She’s in a similar sundress, a tomato plant with a bow tied around the pot in her arms.

“Oh no,” I whisper as I watch her cross the street. “Another one.”

She disappears into the building and a few minutes later, I hear Doug’s voice calling out.

“Ethan! There’s someone here to see you!”

Goddamn.