Turn up the heat, p.1
Turn Up the Heat, page 1
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Books. Change. Lives.
Copyright © 2022 by Marie Harte
Cover and internal design © 2022 by Sourcebooks
Cover design by Eileen Carey/No Fuss Design
Cover images © Ninestock
Sourcebooks and the colophon are registered trademarks of Sourcebooks.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from its publisher, Sourcebooks.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
All brand names and product names used in this book are trademarks, registered trademarks, or trade names of their respective holders. Sourcebooks is not associated with any product or vendor in this book.
Published by Sourcebooks Casablanca, an imprint of Sourcebooks
P.O. Box 4410, Naperville, Illinois 60567-4410
(630) 961-3900
sourcebooks.com
Contents
Front Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Excerpt from Make Me Burn
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Back Cover
To DT and RC
Chapter One
Mack Revere wanted to believe that the woman had hit him by accident. He couldn’t chalk up the incident to alcohol, a joke gone wrong, or the fact he’d been flaunting the rules. He hadn’t. For once, he’d been playing clean and fair.
Yeah, and look where that got you.
Winded and flat on his back, he blinked up at the clear November sky. Seattle remained cloudless yet cold. The forecast predicted clear skies for the next week, but with the way the weather could turn on a dime, he hadn’t put aside his umbrella just yet. Too bad the rain from the past week had turned the soccer field into a mud bowl.
He grimaced as the cold, wet muck seeped into the back of his jersey and shorts. Ew. Talk about a wet start to his Saturday morning.
A head interrupted his field of vision. Bright-gray eyes dominated an unforgiving face that smirked down at him. A dark ponytail swung over the woman’s shoulder as she tilted her head, studying him like a cockroach. Police officer Cassandra Carmichael, in the flesh.
She stared. “That tumble you took must have hurt.”
“Ya think?” he snarled, trying to ignore the ache in his tailbone. Her slide tackle had done most of the work, but the mud sure the hell hadn’t helped. “Totally unnecessary.”
“Yet we have the ball, so maybe it was necessary.” She glanced over at her teammate, who kicked a goal, then turned back to him and shook her head. “No wonder your team is losing. If they’re smart, they’ll move you from midfield to offense. Put you out where the ball isn’t.”
Before he could say something cutting, witty, and God-willing sarcastic, she flounced away to congratulate her teammates.
He wanted to grab her by that ponytail and roll her around in the mud. Then, maybe, the ref would call a time-out for a mud fight. Everyone would get involved. Carmichael would get wet and dirty. Oh, so dirty. Then she’d have to take off that nasty uniform to showcase that tight, toned body…
He glanced over at her. She didn’t look back, completely ignoring him. Or maybe she’d forgotten she’d nearly broken him on the soccer field.
So much for a family-friendly game.
“I could use a little help here,” he yelled out to her, annoyed to still be so attracted to the woman who just a week ago had given him a speeding ticket. Well, a warning, but still.
“Sorry, can’t,” she yelled back without looking at him and said something he couldn’t make out that caused her nearest teammates to laugh.
“You don’t sound sorry,” he muttered and flipped off her buddies, who promptly sneered and sent the gesture right on back.
The bastards. He absolutely loathed playing against the Top Cops, no matter what the sport.
Tex, fellow firefighter, teammate, and one of Mack’s best friends, helped him to his feet.
“She did that on purpose,” Mack said.
“Of course she did. Duh.” Tex raised a brow, his Texan accent thick as he responded, “If your brains were leather, you wouldn’t have enough to saddle a june bug.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“Well, my uncle likes to say it every now and again to the stupid cousin everyone hates.”
“Not helping, Tex.”
But Tex had already turned to yell, “Nice illegal tackle, Officer.” To Mack he said, “Gotta say, though, that tackle was totally bitchy. She added an evil laugh there at the end.”
“Agreed.” Mack wiped gobs of mud from his legs and backside and glared at the woman who should have been penalized with a red card. Or at least a yellow warning. He raised his voice. “Maybe if the refs would quit leering at a certain someone they’d make the right call!”
The tall referee who couldn’t seem to take his gaze from Carmichael’s ass ignored him.
“I feel for you.” Tex shook his head. “Our fans are giving you a pity clap just for standing up.”
Mack glanced to the stands to see Tex was right. A thumbs-up from Tex’s girlfriend. And a “You can do it, Mack!” from… Oh God. His mother.
Mack seethed with embarrassment. For all of five seconds. Then he decided to get even.
On the Top Cops’ next breakaway down the field, Mack switched with the left halfback. “I got this.” He proceeded to steal the ball from one of the Top Cops’ lead scorers and sent it downfield to Tex.
“Lucky break,” the scorer sneered.
Mack waited until the refs turned away before shoving him aside. Talk about annoying.
“Hey!”
“Whatever.”
“Prick.”
“Momma’s boy.”
Mack dodged when the guy took a half-hearted swing at him. Which brought several comments from the stands: protests from the Burning Embers’ fans and cheers from the Top Cops’ side.
The idiot Mack had just shoved eyed Mack with clear derision. “I’m a momma’s boy? Really?” He nodded to the stands.
“You can do it, Mack!” Their mother frowned. “Xavier, be nice to your brother.”
Xavier smiled wide. “Sure thing, Ma.” Then he punched Mack in the arm.
Mack frowned, punched him back, and narrowly avoided a soccer ball to the face. Xavier wasn’t so lucky. He took the ball to the side of his head.
“Gee, that must have hurt.” Mack grinned at his brother swearing and shaking his head, no doubt to clear the ringing between his ears.
“Sorry, Xavier,” Carmichael called.
Mack chuckled, took the ball, and dribbled down the field. He pretended to pass to the center and juked Carmichael into tripping over her own feet. She went down in the mud.
Still laughing, Mack yelled over his shoulder, “Officer down!”
“Jackass!”
He passed to an open player and cheered his delight when their team scored, evening the game.
Turning, he found himself surrounded by muddy, burly police officers, Carmichael among them.
“What?”
“That was cheap,” she argued.
“Was it the ‘Officer down’ part or the part when you fell over your own feet? And wow, are you dirty.”
Out of the corner of his eye he saw one of the cops grab a handful of mud. Mack ducked behind Carmichael just as the guy slung it. He heard her gasp and saw she’d been hit in the chest. And what a sorry sight that was, obscuring anything so fine.
She glared at the offender, who startled whistling and quickly walked away.
Deciding that would be the smart move, Mack followed. But not before his brother tackled him to the ground and shoved his face in wet dirt and grass.
Mack r
***
“What a great game,” Mack said as he and the guys joined their friends at the bleachers.
“Great but messy.” Brad, his buddy and part of their tight, four-man firefighting crew, looked down at himself with a frown.
His girlfriend rolled her eyes. “It’s just dirt, Brad.”
Brad blinked. “Oh?” Then he chased her around the field laughing maniacally.
“Don’t even think about it,” Tex’s girlfriend warned.
“Darlin’, I have half a brain. Not much, but it’s the half that works.” He didn’t even try touching her as the pair made their goodbyes.
Reggie, the last member of their four-man fire crew, stood next to Mack’s mother in jeans and a jacket. He sniffled a few more times for effect. “This cold is just awful. Too bad I couldn’t have joined you.”
Considering the guy had been just fine the night prior over beers and darts, he wasn’t earning any loyalty points for not playing this morning.
“I’m so disappointed in your weak lies.” Mack shook his head.
Reggie apparently felt no such upset because he just grinned. “Gotta go. I promised Maggie and Emily doughnuts this morning.”
“Fine. Go. Not like we could have used you or anything.”
“Great. Bye.”
Reggie left.
And then there was one…
“Oh, Mackenzie. Monkey-face, you’re a mess.”
He cringed. “Ma, not here.” Where too many witnesses might overhear and use that name against him at work.
She huffed. “Please. It’s a fine name. After your great-grandfather.”
“Not Mackenzie. That nickname.” He lowered his voice. “You have no idea what the guys—”
“Oh, Mon-key-face…” Xavier, older by two years but always so much more immature than Mack, called in a singsong voice. “There you are.” He walked up to his brother and mother and grinned. “Buddy, you look awful.”
“Right back at ya, moron.” Mack couldn’t help grinning back. The youngest of four, Mack loved his family. Even if they didn’t always seem to understand him. Or like him. But today, Xavier appeared in a decent mood, and their mother had cheered for Mack, the lone firefighter in a family of cops.
Perhaps soon he’d see pigs fly.
Mack made small talk, watching as the crowd dispersed while subtly looking for one particular dirty player—pun intended. There. He saw Carmichael wringing the bottom of her shirt by the parking lot.
“Be right back.” He left before his family could corner him. “Hey, Carmichael.”
She flipped her head back, slapping herself in the face with a wet ponytail, and glared at him. “Well, if it isn’t Mr. Pushy.”
“Oh please. You pushed me first. I didn’t even touch you. It was my fast moves and amazingly handsome face that caused you to go down, hard.”
Her lips twitched, but to her credit, she didn’t laugh. “You are so full of it.”
“I really am.”
Ha. There. She smiled. Her expression turned sour once more, and she said in a crisp, cold tone, “What do you want, Revere?”
Excited she remembered his name, he nevertheless tried to play it cool. “Just wanted to let you know I was okay, that my tailbone is still in one piece, you know, in case you were wondering.”
“I wasn’t.”
“Yeah, I’m feeling loose.” He rolled his neck and pulled a knee to his chest, carefully balancing as he stretched his glutes. “Everything still works.” He set his foot down before he fell over and ruined all his careful posturing.
“Am I supposed to be happy for you?”
“Yes, you are.” He smiled. “So, you busy tonight?”
“Seriously?” She spread her arms wide, bringing unintended attention to her full breasts. “I’ll be spending the next week washing the mud from my body.”
As soon as she said it, she stilled, blinked, and watched him.
Don’t say it. Don’t say it.
Her eyes narrowed, as if reading his mind.
“So…you want any help with that?”
“Unbelievable,” she muttered, turned on her heel, and stalked away from him.
But Mack would swear he saw a grin on her face before she left.
Amused and granting himself permission to treat today as a victory, he rejoined his mom and brother, in the mood for a family breakfast after all.
***
Cass stomped back to her car, glad she’d had the foresight to bring a towel with her. At least she’d keep her car seat fairly clean while she drove home.
“Yo, you coming over later?” her partner asked.
She turned to see Jed standing by his car, his wife and the twins already inside and no doubt buckled up. “Who’s cooking? You or Shannon?”
Jed frowned. “Why the hell does that matter?”
She just looked at him.
He sighed. “Shannon’s cooking, okay?”
“I’ll be there.” She gave him a thumbs-up.
He glowered before entering his car and driving away.
Cass chuckled. Her amusement lingered on the drive home. Though she’d never admit it, she thoroughly enjoyed the competitive games she played as a Top Cops team member. Challenging—and usually beating—the other teams in their countywide sports league was so satisfying. Cass played to win. Why else bother playing?
The Burning Embers, those arrogant no-neck men and women firefighters, always gave as good as they got. She could respect that. Even though they’d both lost today, they’d put up a heck of a fight.
She particularly liked the very handsome, sarcastic, and frustrating Mackenzie Revere, though she’d deny it ’til her last breath. From the first time she’d seen the guy, she’d been dumbstruck.
Short, dark-brown hair framed an unforgettable face. He had amazing cheekbones, a straight nose, a square chin, and bright-blue eyes. And when he smiled…good night, but he could stop a girl in her tracks. He’d surely stopped hers. That was to say nothing of his perfectly proportioned, muscular, long-legged body. Or of his seasonal tan that said he liked the sun. She’d once seen him with his shirt off during softball season in the summer… Whoa, momma.
Even the fire department agreed. They’d used him as their poster boy for Station 44. She’d seen Mack on public service advertisements and in the paper and on TV, informing everyone about the new fire station that had opened earlier in the year.
Unfortunately, he was a Revere, one of the many cop families working for the city. His father, mother, and three brothers had all worked or continued to work in law enforcement. Heck, Xavier Revere worked in her precinct. Since Cass never mixed business with pleasure, she’d had to strike the sexy, firefighting Mack off her hottie list. She didn’t date friends of work friends—something she continually told her partner’s tenacious wife.
As much as Cass genuinely loved Shannon, Jed’s wife could be pushy. For some reason, a year ago, she’d decided to put her matchmaking skills to work finding Cass a boyfriend.
At first, Cass had wondered if Shannon might be jealous of all the time Cass spent with Jed on the job. But after a frank conversation with the woman, she’d learned that, no, Shannon trusted both Cass and her husband. She had every right to, but Cass had dealt with many spouses of fellow officers on the job, and none of them seemed to like her much. Just Shannon with her wacky sense of humor and adorable, troublemaking twins.
So why was Shannon so keen on setting Cass up for a love connection?
A question that still plagued her, but Cass knew better than to bring up the subject. Lately, Shannon had been laying off, so Cass said nothing about being dateless. Or about how she’d started to feel as if she might actually be missing out on a part of life. Loneliness could be a real bitch.
As Cass pulled into her driveway, she tried to forget about the path her dating life hadn’t taken and focused instead on what she needed to get done on her days off. She worked a four-on, two-off rotation with her partner. So she had one more day until she went back to work.
