Mr. February Read Free Page B

stud.”
    Ignoring the nickname they used to get a rise out of him, Rafe shook his head. “I admire her work ethic, but otherwise, she’s not my type. She has I’m looking for love and the whole nine yards written all over her.”
    Rafe wanted no part of that. His buds understood. They knew what he’d suffered through as a kid, and what a mess he’d been until age ten, when he’d moved in with his dad. Thanks to the man’s discipline and structure, Rafe had straightened up.
    By the time his dad had married a few years later, Rafe had been on a solid path to success—good grades and a junior varsity position on the middle school basketball team. His stepmom, Lori, had brought her own two kids into the marriage. She hadn’t wanted Rafe around. But her acceptance of him had been a deal breaker for Rafe’s dad, and she’d learned to tolerate him. Still, she’d never shown him any real warmth, and when she and his dad divorced two years later, the only fallout Rafe had suffered stemmed from his father’s grief over the failed marriage.
    “I’m about ready for breakfast,” he said. “If we go a little farther, we can loop back to where we started. I’ll take the lead now.”
    Hank shrugged. “Go for it.”
    They were cutting through the woods at a more reasonable pace when Calvin woofed. Bred for hunting, he pointed and strained at his leash. In the distance came an answering bark. Rafe recognized that sharp-pitched sound. Pooh.
    He gave Calvin plenty of leash, and moments later, Jillian’s cottage and the woman herself, came into view. Wearing leggings and another long, baggy shirt, hair tucked into a baseball cap, she balanced on a folding ladder, wielding a long-handled paint roller over the weathered green siding of her studio. The new color, purple, was exactly what Rafe would have expected. The same hatchback sat parked in the driveway. He didn’t see the ancient van.
    “Get a load of those long legs,” Hank murmured appreciatively.
    Rafe didn’t like the way he and Gus looked her over.
    “Rafe. Hi,” she said, climbing down with a confused smile.
    “You know her? Of course you do,” Hank murmured. “Introduce us.”
    Rafe preferred not to, but hell, he wasn’t interested in her, so why not? “Jillian, meet Hank and Gus, two of my crewmates. And this is Calvin.”
    She greeted his dog with pats and friendly murmurs. When she straightened to her full height, the huge firefighters dwarfed her. They each shook her hand.
    Suddenly Calvin pulled hard on his leash. He sized up Pooh, and she did the same. They both growled.
    “Easy, boy,” Rafe warned in his no-nonsense voice. As soon as his dog obeyed, he allowed the animal to lead the way.
    “Pooh looks a lot prettier than she did yesterday,” he said. So did Jillian. Not that she’d looked all that bad dripping wet.
    “She smells better, too, thanks to a bath. What are you doing out here on a Friday morning?”
    “We need to stay in shape,” Rafe replied. “And with the weather finally starting to turn nice…” He shrugged. “Plus, I wanted to show these guys where I’ll be building my house. You’re painting your studio.”
    She nodded. “I decided to brighten up the place before my first class. You should see the gorgeous lime-green paint I got for the trim.”
    “That purple’s bright all by itself.”
    “What kind of classes?” Gus asked.
    “Pottery. I used to teach at the Artist Cooperative, but the school closed, and I decided to teach here. This will be a class for beginners. It starts in two weeks. I have openings, so if you know of anyone who’s interested… I printed flyers. Who wants one?”
    Both Rafe’s crewmates signaled they did. Hank hadn’t dated since he’d joined the department two years earlier. He was dealing with some heavy stuff and wasn’t ready. But Gus, currently single, looked interested. Rafe barely curtailed a snarl.
    Oblivious, the clown grinned at her. “Need help painting?”
    “I’ll be