Seeing Red Read online

  Seeing Red

  Jill Shalvis

  New York Boston

  Begin Reading

  Table of Contents

  A Letter from Jill Shalvis

  An Excerpt from White Heat

  An Excerpt from Always on My Mind

  Newsletters

  Copyright Page

  In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher constitute unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher at [email protected] Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  To Laura Cifelli, editor extraordinaire

  Dear Readers,

  I have a thing for firefighters. I always have. There’s just something about a guy who’s willing to put his life on the line for others, isn’t there? The job itself suggests being strong of mind and body and is innately masculine. (With apologies to the women firefighters out there, you’re all beautiful!).

  Years ago, I wrote three romances featuring firefighter heroes. The books have been out of print for a long time now and never made it to the digital age. My wonderful publisher has taken them out of obscurity and is reissuing them as ebooks.

  WHITE HEAT, BLUE FLAME, and SEEING RED are not connected books, so they can be read in any order. Keep in mind they were written a long time ago and are not from this smart phone/digital age. But one thing they do have in common with my more recent books is a sexy, hot hero and a happily ever after.

  Hope you enjoy!

  Best wishes,

  Prologue

  Twelve Years Ago…

  There was nothing good about running laps, except for maybe the view of the guys in nylon shorts ahead of her. Actually, she liked the ocean air in her hair and face as much as the cute butts, but today Summer Abrams’s thoughts were occupied elsewhere altogether. She was fantasizing about Kilimanjaro, Rio, the Amazon…all the places her bohemian father had taken her on his research travels over the years. Summer lived for those trips. “Only three weeks until we’re out of school,” she said with breathless glee.

  Joe didn’t say anything, so Summer looked around for him. He’d lagged behind, camera swinging awkwardly off his back with each plodding step. He always had his camera, but especially now that he was working on his final project and wanted the freedom to take a picture when it suited him. He was her best friend in the whole world, and she slowed down to match his pace, inhaling deeply the tangy air from the Pacific Ocean only half a block away. She could smell day-old fish from the pier, kosher hot dogs from one of the lunch stands, and coconut-scented board wax. The last was from her own hands as she’d gone out surfing at the crack of dawn.

  Much as she loved to travel, she also loved it right here. In her mind, Ocean Beach didn’t deserve the reputation of being the redheaded stepchild of the San Diego beaches. Sure it had far more leather-skinned old-timers, starving students, and unemployed transients than say La Jolla, but it also had more character. For Summer, O.B. was everything, and life was good.

  Change was coming, though. As a senior, Joe would be graduating soon and then heading off to San Diego State College. Not Summer. She still had two years left in high school, which she hated to think about. She wanted to start her life too!

  But no one deserved a ticket out of Dodge more than Joe Walker. At the moment he was attempting to take a picture of her and trying keep up at the same time, huffing and puffing like a locomotive in the clinging late May heat—the punishment for not taking his required regular physical education classes as a sophomore and junior. “You’ve been neglecting your cardio again,” she said. “I bet you’re not even carrying those energizing crystals I gave you.”

  “I’m fine,” he panted, clearly not. He outweighed her by seventy-five pounds, none of it muscle.

  “Admit it, you’d rather be eating a doughnut.”

  This got her the first genuine smile from him since PE class had begun thirty minutes ago. His perpetually scruffy light-brown hair was plastered to his head, his face beet red and dripping sweat into his show-all eyes.

  He had the biggest heart of anyone she’d ever met, and a fading bruise on his chunky cheek. A burst of deep worry worked through her at the thought of the things he suffered at home, things she’d never fully understand. Though her parents were so in love they often excluded her by accident, she’d never been treated with anything but kindness. “Let’s walk.”

  “I’m fine, Red.” He swiped his face on the front of his T-shirt.

  “Hey, look. Fat Boy’s gonna have a heart attack.”

  This from one of the four football players who’d just caught up to them. Forced to run in their pads by their coach, they slowed down to pass, three of them eyeballing Summer with leering grins.

  Ignoring them, Summer smiled only at the fourth boy. He was Danny, the school’s star quarterback. Tall, dark, and yummy, he was the cutest guy in the school, and she wanted him to take her to her prom so badly she could taste it. She’d been wearing her lucky charm bracelet all week in hopes that it would work its magic.

  “Hi Summer,” he said in a reverent tone, taking an elbow in the ribs for doing so. He gave an elbow back. “How are you doing?”

  She felt a dopey grin split her face. “Good.”

  “Oh, jeez. Move.” One of the others shoved Danny out of his way.

  If Danny was the cutest guy in Ocean Beach, then Mitch was their village idiot. Still jogging backward, he sent a bunch of wet disgusting kissy noises toward Summer while two of his fellow idiots hooted and hollered. “What do you say, Flower Power Girl? You and me. Tonight. Ditch Fat Boy here and let me show you what a real guy does with his hands. And trust me, it won’t be taking pics—unless you want me to.”

  “Shut up, Mitch,” Joe said.

  Summer glanced at him, silently begging him to let it go. But he never let anything go. Instead he wore his heart—and temper—on his sleeve for the world to stomp on. The last time he’d confronted Mitch and gang, he’d gotten a black eye and fat lip out of the deal. Little damage compared to what Joe’s father could do on a drunken rampage, but still.

  “Come on, Summer.” Mitch had a nasty smile that made her skin crawl. “How about a little show ’n’ tell? I’ll show you mine, you show me yours. And I don’t mean your fancy little crystals either.” He laughed uproariously over this until Joe growled and lunged forward, hands fisted, camera banging awkwardly around his neck.

  “Joe, no,” Summer cried, and hauled him back by the shirt.

  “Joe, no,” Mitch taunted, but Danny finally grabbed his friend and shoved him along, flashing a glance back at Summer with an apology in his eyes.

  She smiled her thanks.

  He smiled back.

  It made her knees wobble, and for a moment as they kept running, she just stared after him, sending ask-me-to-the-prom thoughts his way. Then she turned to Joe.

  He’d left the track.

  “Joe? Where’re you going?”

  He didn’t slow, and given the speed he’d taken on, he’d finally gotten his second wind.

  “Joe, stop!” she called out to him. “We’ll lose ten points if we ditch the rest of class!” She hesitated, because the ten point loss would put her into the B range and she prized her As, but this was Joe, and the misery weighing his shoulders down tore at her. “Damn it.”

  He raced down the little side street behind the school as if he’d turned into a marathon sprinter, and having never seen him move so fast, Summer followed.

  If Joe realized she was following him he gave no clue, just continued to haul a