The Fireman Finds His Flame: Moonchuckle Bay Romantic Comedy #4 Read online

  Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Happy Ending at 88%

  Half Title

  1 Fifty Years of Oblivion

  2 A New Career as an Arsonist

  3 Kevlar Gloves Are Better

  4 Flirting Shamelessly Is My Best Talent

  5 I Don’t Want To Be Old

  6 A Werewolf, My Dear

  7 Watch it, Sparky!

  8 Some Magic of Her Own

  9 Section 1239 of the Supernatural Constitutional Code

  10 To Accommodate a Dragon’s Derrière

  11 She Wouldn’t Want Me to Die

  12 Want a Ride Home?

  13 The-Swans-and-the-Bees Talk

  Epilogue ~ Swan or Dragon?

  Thank you!

  Book Club Questions

  About the Author

  Books by Heather Horrocks

  Acknowledgments

  Copyright

  Excerpt: #0.5 Jingle Belle ~ free with newsletter sign-up

  Excerpt: #5 Elvis Gets His Groove Back

  Thanks again

  THE FIREMAN FINDS HIS FLAME

  Moonchuckle Bay Romantic Comedy #4

  Heather Horrocks

  Dedicated to my amazing friend, Molly Ford, who would have known not only that Ty was the last dragon, but all of his lineage back through the ages. You’re just that good of a genealogist. Thanks for your friendship. I treasure it.

  And to Mark, who happens to be my Flame (even though I’m not really a dragon).

  THE HAPPY ENDING IS AT ABOUT 88% ~ ENJOY!

  In case you’re like me and want to know how close you are to the end of a book, and because there are pages that come after the end of a book (excerpts, copyright, about the author, and—in some boxed sets—more novellas), I just want to let you know that ‘The End’ of this book is at approximately 88%. Enjoy.

  RECEIVE A FREE BOOK — click here.

  DISCOVER HEATHER’S OTHER BOOKS.

  Heather Horrocks has written numerous books. If you’re new to her writing, see her romantic comedies and funny mysteries at www.BooksByHeatherHorrocks.com.

  The Fireman Finds His Flame

  Fifty Years of Oblivion

  “I’M GOING HOME,” THE SHORT man announced, nearly disappearing when he slipped off the barstool. Marali Swanson had to lean over the bar to see him shrug his sturdy five-foot-nothing frame into his brown coat. He smiled up at her and gave a jaunty wave. “See you later, Mara.”

  Herb Tobolowsky was a regular at Fangs. Mara’d been told that he stopped in often after he closed Dorian Gray Photography, the store he managed. She’d been instructed to treat him well, as he was a distant relative of the owners, who’d just hired her to work in their combo bar and restaurant.

  “Good night, Herb.” Mara nodded, finding herself overcome with wistfulness. Home. She hadn’t had one in a very long time. What would it be like?

  Shaking off the sudden burst of melancholy, she turned back to her work.

  Her friend of two days — who’d introduced herself as, “Audrey Hepburn, but not the actress” — tipped her head toward the generous tip Herb had left.

  Mara nodded her head and scooped up the bills. It had only taken her about an hour to learn that one of the barmaids, Serena Graham, had no compunction about walking off with other people’s tips. The younger woman didn’t have the best ethical standards — and she resented the ease with which Mara had gotten a job as bartender here. When Mara had driven into town two days before, she’d walked in and one of the owners had immediately put her to work. She’d certainly earned that kind of respect — she had plenty of experience working in bars in towns all over the Midwest, hoping that one day it would pay off. Hoping it would. Serena would just have to deal with the fact that she was here.

  There were times when Mara wanted to take herself out of the bar atmosphere, but there was no place better to gather gossip in a town, to gather information that might lead to the man who’d taken her coat. She needed to stay in the flow of information. The old saying was that “loose lips sink ships” — and alcohol helped loosen lips.

  Thank goodness for Audrey “not the actress” Hepburn. She was tiny and petite like the actress, but her hair was almost as red as Mara’s own, and she wore it tied back in what she jokingly referred to in front of their boss as a “woman bun.” It amused Mara to realize that this tiny little woman could tear a man’s arm off and beat him with it if she chose. Vampires were just that strong.

  Mara slipped the tip money into the hidden waist wallet where she kept all of her cash, in case she had to take off in hot pursuit of her coat without having time to go back for a stash. She always worked out a deal where she was paid in cash, or she’d pass on the job. Luckily, in Moonchuckle Bay there was a lot of that going on. Lots of people who lived longer-than-normal-human lifespans wanted to stay off the human government radar. She’d run across a few other towns like this around the world — the last one in Vegas — and this place felt as close to home as she was likely to get.

  Her parents and sisters kept inviting her back home, but she couldn’t go until she succeeded. She wouldn’t go back until she was whole again.

  Audrey took a tray of bottles and headed out to deliver them to a table, while Serena jiggled her barely concealed breasts at a vampire.

  Across the bar where she was pulling levers to fill mugs, a man slipped into the seat Herb had vacated. This guy was the opposite of Herb — tall, dark, and handsome. He smiled at her. “Good to see you again, Mara.”

  “Hi, James.” She’d met the werewolf the night before, and he intrigued her. “I thought you said you didn’t come in here often.”

  James Murphy shrugged. “I usually don’t, but you’re pretty enough to get me back here. Plus I just feel kind of ...” He chuckled. “This will sound weird, but I feel peaceful around you.”

  Werewolves were particularly sensitive to the Swan Maiden vibe. Bestowing peace was a useful quality to have when working in a bar.

  As she worked, James chatted. Finally, he said, “I have a pilot’s license and a plane. Would you like to go flying sometime?”

  She tipped her head at him. That was a tempting offer. Though she didn’t want to get involved with a man — any man — she did very much want to fly again. “I’ll think about it.”

  “Good enough.” He lifted his bottle and took a sip.

  Audrey brought back the now empty tray and said, “Go out with us tonight. There’s a great party going on.”

  James’s eyes brightened. “A party?”

  “Yes. At the old mill.” Audrey grinned.

  Mara shook her head at her friend, one corner of her mouth tilting up.

  Stanley MacGyver — a large bear of a man who wore his hair in a man-bun — walked by and sniffed. “I think it’s funny that your last name is Swanson and you smell like a swan.” Stanley owned the restaurant with his brother Mac and ran the bar side of the business.

  Not wanting the werebear to “nose around” any further, she touched the feather on her necklace, feeling only a slight tinge of magic from the only feather left from her coat. “It’s probably from this swan feather.”

  “Could be, I suppose.” He studied her, his eyes intense and showing more than an employer’s detached interest. “How are you liking the room so far?”

  She was renting a room above the bar, and she made sure to lock it up tight at night, setting a few traps, both physical and magical. She wasn’t going to be attacked again, not after that time in New York twenty years ago, when she’d only escaped unharm
ed because of a passerby. She’d learned a lot of tricks since then. She smiled at her boss, letting some of her power seep into the smile. “Just great. Thanks.”

  He tipped his head and mumbled, “Good, good,” and walked away.

  Swan Maiden — One.

  Werebear — Zero.

  She found it amazing that two werebears owned a place called Fangs, a vampire bar, but it seemed to work.

  Her skin fluttered, not quite goosebumps — or, in her case, swanbumps — but close.

  Her coat was close! She could feel it!

  She rubbed her arms and looked around the bar, searching for the man who’d stolen it.

  And then Mara was on the move, brushing past Serena with a quick, “I’ll be right back.”

  “Whatever,” Serena muttered under her breath.

  Mara pushed between people in the crowded bar, being jostled as she worked her way around the crowded room. Many men reached out to touch her — without success because her magic was running high — but no one had a feather coat. No one looked at her as if with the taunt, You have to marry me now, because I’ve got your coat.

  The door opened and she looked up, ready to fly after the thief — but it was just three women laughing as they walked out, girlfriends out on the town.

  She turned back. The feeling grew faint and she still couldn’t place it.

  No. Please don’t be gone already!

  But it was. She couldn’t feel the coat any longer. Not with the same level of power, anyway. It was just the same low, dull ache that had brought her to this town. The same dull ache she’d felt for the past thirty years since it had been stolen from her. The same dull ache that lulled her to sleep and woke her in the mornings.

  For a moment, she’d been so close. Closer than she’d been in the entire thirty years. Where could the man have gone?

  Had she imagined it? She knew some Swan Maidens started hallucinating when they’d been out of their coats long enough.

  At this point, she’d even be willing to marry a man just to get it back. She couldn’t bear to be without it much longer.

  Disturbed, Mara made her way back to the bar, this time smiling and interacting with bar patrons as she went, joking and fending off advances, even though her heart was heavy.

  She pushed it aside. She couldn’t let the melancholy take her over. She would keep following the coat. It was close by. She just knew it. Felt it.

  She was going to find it — and reclaim it. And after thirty long years, she’d finally be whole.

  “Hi, Ty.” The petite blonde human woman held out a disposable platter of cookies with a shy smile. “They’re chocolate chip. Your favorite.”

  Actually, his favorite was oatmeal raisin, but he didn’t want to hurt her feelings so he smiled back. “Thanks.”

  The other firefighters turned away, grinning. He’d get razzed over this later, he knew. They gave him grief every time Felicity Evans brought him cookies, which was at least once a shift — and she usually timed it just as they were coming off shift, hoping he’d invite her to join him.

  He wouldn’t — but one of the others in the room would. While he tried to gently discourage her advances, the other guys encouraged her, both because they thought it funny and because they enjoyed the baked goods.

  He’d tried everything short of being incredibly rude. He’d tried being blunt, telling her he wasn’t interested in dating at the moment, avoiding her. All to no avail. So now he gave a resigned smile and took a bite. “Delicious, as always.”

  His boss, a huge Polynesian were-owl named Kealoha Pueo, came up beside him. Kea weighed over three hundred pounds — and it was ninety-five percent muscle. He had an owl tattoo on one massive bicep and a sun tattoo on the other. Nobody messed with Kea — he was just as tough as he looked. Lucky thing he was happy most of the time. “Hi, Felicity. Good to see you again.”

  She beamed at him and handed him a cookie, too. “How’s the family?”

  Kea had a huge extended community that included lots of family and lots of others who felt like family.

  “Good. Thanks.” Kea turned his huge body toward Ty — who was nearly six-four, himself — and grinned. “Hey, Haole, we’re heading to Fangs as soon as our shift is over.”

  “In five minutes,” called out Quade Saunders.

  “Oh, that sounds like fun,” Felicity said, flashing huge Disney eyes at Ty. “Can I go with you guys?”

  Uh...

  “Sure,” Kea said. “Meet us over there in about fifteen minutes.”

  “Okay,” Felicity said, flushed with excitement. “See you there.” She waved at Ty, set the platter on the counter, and left.

  “Why’d you do that?” Ty asked Kea, exasperated, as soon as she was in her car. “You know I’m trying to discourage her. Besides, I’ve got some paperwork to do tonight.” Which was true. He was going to crumple up some paper, toss it in his fireplace, and light it up. He was fascinated with fire. Which was kind of ironic, with him being a firefighter and all. Even though he'd never find his own flame.

  Kea shook his head. “We’re going to celebrate you accepting that spot on the Council.”

  The Supernatural Oversight Council — or SOC, for short — was opening an office in Moonchuckle Bay, and they’d asked Ty to head it up. It was an honor — but something he wasn’t sure would bring any meaning into his life. He liked the action of firefighting. The danger, even. “I haven’t decided yet if I’m going to accept it.”

  “Yes, you are.” Kea punched Ty in the arm.

  “Freaking ow, Kea,” he complained, rubbing his arm.

  The big man grinned. “Love tap.”

  Ty shook his head. Since Aloha meant love, Kealoha called his punches love taps. Yeah, when love hurts. Stupid giant Polynesian owl.

  “Come on. I’ll keep you safe from all those women attracted to the big scary dragon — even if they don’t know exactly why they like the man with the ugly mug.” Kea grew serious. “Speaking of safe, I want you to stop taking so many chances. We’ll lose you one of these days if you’re not more careful. Bullet bike. Jeep four wheeling. What’s next? Alligator wrestling?”

  “Well, not around these parts. It’d be more like Sasquatch wrestling,” Quade said as he joined them. “Come on. Let’s go.”

  Quade was Ty’s best buddy at the fire station. He’d started dating a woman he seemed to be getting serious with and Ty was trying not to feel jealous. He didn’t mind that Quade might have found true love — he was just bitter that he never could.

  It was an impossibility.

  Last dragon on earth and all that.

  The new shift coming on duty brought their Dalmatian mascot, which they’d not-so-originally named Spot. The dog danced up to Ty, acknowledging his alpha position. After he petted the canine, Spot moved on to the other firefighters, in turn.

  Maybe Ty needed to get a dog of his own. Like that would solve his loneliness.

  Or take the job with the council. Kea was half right. He did need to decide, though he wasn’t entirely convinced that the right decision was the council.

  And if nothing brought more meaning into his life than he was feeling now, he might as well hibernate again. See what the world was like fifty years from now. One thing he was sure of — even fifty years from now, there would be no other dragons, hence no dragon fire. No Flame.

  He shook his head. At least he’d have fifty years of oblivion, during which he could dream of loving someone and of being loved in return.

  A New Career as an Arsonist

  TY CLIMBED OUT OF KEA’S car and he and the large, shoulder-heavy man cut diagonally through Town Square to reach Fangs on the far corner.

  He didn’t think he could stand another evening with the clingy Felicity. Or any of the other women who seemed to be drawn to him. Kea was right. Dragon magic attracted human women. It was why he usually avoided bars and went straight home instead.

  It was still light enough out that he could see too many details of the couples
they passed, holding hands, kissing, cuddling.

  He shook his head. Burn it off.

  Kea pointed a large hand. “Quade’s here.”

  Ty looked ahead and caught sight of Quade and his girlfriend, Heather, also walking toward Fangs.

  “I want you to consider the council job,” Kea said without looking at him before they joined the couple.

  “Why?” As in why were they having this conversation again?

  “Because I think you’d be good at it.”

  “Don’t want me around showing you up anymore, huh?”

  Kea stopped and shook his head. “Ty, you’re a great firefighter. But the Council needs an old paranormal to head the office. And you’re the oldest in town.”

  Eight hundred and ninety-nine years old. But who was counting?

  “I make a good firefighter.”

  “Because you’re fireproof.” Kea started moving again, and Ty stepped beside him.

  “Exactly.”

  They greeted Quade and Heather and followed them into the bar, which was already nearly full. If he weren’t a dragon, the chatter would drown out the sound of Kea’s voice.

  Happy hour.

  Ty hated happy hour.

  The bar ran up along one wall and then zigged and went along a second. The bar top was an interesting pattern of strips of different colored woods covered in gleaming epoxy. Booths lined the other wall and twenty or so round and square tables for four were scattered around.

  A firefighter waved from across the room, and they made their way through the crowd to the two tables he’d pulled together and saved for the group.

  Quade nudged Ty, and he turned to see Felicity enter the building. With a sigh, Ty said, “I’ll go order us some drinks if you distract Felicity.”

  “Sure thing,” Quade said.

  Ty walked toward the bar.

  And then several things happened all at once. The tall, beautiful redheaded woman standing behind the bar looked up and locked gazes with him, smiling at him. His heart gave a huge leap in his chest, his heart and lungs contracted and he blew out a huge breath of air.