Charming the Firefighter Read online

  “The clothes weren’t for you.” He stopped at the door and faced her. “I was at the funeral home.”

  “Oh. I’m so sorry. Was it someone close to you?”

  He could use that, he realized. Play on Penelope’s compassion, the sympathy he saw in her eyes, to get her to go out with him. But he didn’t want a pity date with the pretty Penelope.

  And he’d never use Samantha’s memory that way.

  “No,” he said. “I barely knew her.”

  Just as, it seemed, he wouldn’t be getting to know Penelope, either.

  He slipped out the door, loosened his tie as he made his way down the hall.

  * * *

  SIPPING HIS BEER, Leo surveyed his mother’s dining room. His entire family—all twelve of them—were gathered around the antique oak table. Platters and bowls were passed, silverware clinked against dishes and Maddie bitched out James about some work problem.

  Just another Sunday family dinner.

  Leo loved his family. They were loud and nosy, always butting into each other’s business or picking a fight. But when one of them needed help, be it a strong back for moving furniture, or a shoulder to cry on, the others were there. They shared a history. Had an unbreakable bond.

  One that was currently around his neck choking the life out of him.

  “I’m fine,” he told his mother, who was doing the helicopter parenting so well, he was surprised she didn’t make a whap-whap-whap sound when she moved. “Stop worrying about me.”

  Rose tucked her dark, chin-length hair behind her ear. “Not likely. Once you have kids that’s what you do. Worry.”

  “Seems like a good reason to avoid it,” he said, only half kidding.

  “If you want to talk about it—”

  “Nothing to talk about.” He forced a grin. “But if there was, I know who I can turn to.”

  Even before she’d started pursuing a degree in social work and had taken the requisite psychology courses, his mom had always known when something was bothering him. It was as if she could read his mind.

  Not that she needed psychic abilities when she knew everyone in Shady Grove. Leo should have known someone would tell her he’d attended Samantha’s memorial service. Now she wanted him to talk about his feelings, for Christ’s sake.

  Spilling their guts over dessert was fine for his brothers and sister. Not for him.

  Leo preferred to keep his professional and personal life separate. Preferred to get through the difficult times on his own.

  Before his mom could regroup, or worse, mention to the table at large that Leo was suffering from survivor’s guilt and post-traumatic stress disorder—her dinnertime diagnosis—he scraped his chair back and stood. “I’ll start the coffee.”

  Carrying his plate and beer bottle, he walked into the kitchen and was pouring water into the coffeemaker when Sadie and James came in.

  “How much longer are you going to volunteer us for dish duty when we eat here?” James grumbled to his new wife as he set a stack of dirty dishes next to the sink.

  “Until your mother realizes what a helpful, courteous and generous individual I am.” Sadie opened the dishwasher and pushed up the sleeves of her neon pink fuzzy sweater. She loaded the machine, her movements quick and jerky, her long blond hair sliding over her shoulder. “That woman hates me.”

  “She doesn’t hate you.”

  “No,” Leo said. “Sadie’s right. Mom hates her.”

  Sadie tossed up her hands with such force, water sprayed James’s face. “See? Even Leo can sense it.”

  Glaring, James stepped back and used the bottom of his T-shirt to wipe his cheeks dry. “Leo’s an idiot. What the hell does he know?”

  “I know Mom’s worried Sadie’s going to break your heart.”

  They both stared at him as if he’d recited the Declaration of Independence. In Swahili.

  Behind his grin, Leo ground his molars together. They thought he was such a dumbass he couldn’t see what was right in front of him.

  “Did she tell you that?” James asked.

  “She didn’t have to. You’ve been jonesing after Sadie since you were, what? In middle school? And up until last year, Sadie didn’t even realize it. Mom’s not sure she’ll stick around, that’s all.”

  Rose had good reason to be concerned. For years, Sadie had popped into James’s life whenever the mood struck her, then out again when she got bored or something better came along, leaving James heartbroken and wanting more.

  “That’s all changed,” James said. “We’ve both changed.”

  Leo shrugged. “I know that and you know that. Hell, everyone in the family knows that. Except Mom.”

  “What should we do?” Sadie asked.

  “Holy shit,” James murmured. “We’re asking Leo for advice. It’s the end of the world as we know it.”

  Leo ignored him. “It’d probably go a long way,” he told Sadie, “if you had a private conversation with Mom. Reassure her you have no plans on breaking James’s poor, precious, sensitive heart ever again.” He turned to his brother. “If that doesn’t work, you could always step up and tell Mom in no uncertain terms that she needs to accept Sadie as your wife and her daughter-in-law and knock off the cold-shoulder routine.”

  James studied him through narrowed eyes. “Since when did you start giving good advice?”

  “Hey, my advice is always good. You’ve just never heeded any of it before.”

  “Well, we’re taking it now,” Sadie said, shooting James an agree with me or die look. Rising onto her toes, she kissed Leo’s cheek then hugged him. “Thank you.”

  Knowing it would piss his brother off, Leo wrapped his arms around Sadie and settled his hands on her lower back. “That’s what I’m here for. General awesomeness.”

  She laughed. “I heard all about how awesome you are yesterday. Seems you were quite the hero a few days ago.”

  Damn it, why did his family always want to talk everything to death? All he wanted was to get over the accident and Samantha’s death and move on. “You heard wrong,” he said, dropping his arms and stepping back.

  “Not according to Gracie Weaver,” Sadie said with an eyebrow wiggle that made her look like she was having a seizure. “I had lunch with her and Molly yesterday and it’s a safe bet to say you can now add Gracie to your long list of female admirers.”

  The tension in Leo’s neck ratcheted up a notch. Sadie wasn’t talking about the accident. She was talking about what had happened to Penelope.

  That wasn’t any better.

  Antsy, he snagged his beer, took a long drink. Yeah, he’d thought of Penelope a few times since he’d left her office five days ago, had even considered calling her, but it wasn’t as though he was obsessing over her.

  He tipped the bottle again and frowned to realize it was empty. So she wasn’t interested. No big deal; more fish in the sea and all that bullshit. He didn’t beg women to go out with him. Didn’t have to. Someone else would come along, make him forget he’d ever crashed and burned with the pretty accountant.

  It couldn’t happen soon enough.

  “It wasn’t that big of a deal,” he said, grabbing a cold beer from the fridge. When he held it up to James, his brother nodded. Leo handed it over, then got one for himself.

  “To hear Gracie tell it, you swooped into her neighbor’s house like some sort of knight in shining armor. The only way it could have gotten any better was if you’d actually been on a horse. Or hadn’t been wearing a shirt and had recently been sprayed with the fire hose.”

  “Give him an ax and put a constipated look on his face,” James said, “and it’d be just like the pose he did for that calendar a few years back.” He smirked. “Isn’t that right, Mr. June?”

  Leo shot James the middle finger. “It was Mr. July, hence the sparklers in my free hand. And that calendar raised ten grand for charity.” He took a drink, then held the bottle between two fingers and spoke to Sadie. “Gracie deserves most of the credit.”

&n
bsp; The kid obviously wasn’t holding a grudge about the way Leo had not-so-politely given her the boot. Though he felt like a dirty old man being the inspiration for a teenage girl’s fantasies.

  “Believe me, I heard all the details.” Sadie went back to loading the dishwasher. “Molly’s neighbor is lucky to be alive.”

  “What happened?” James asked.

  “The Weavers’ neighbor had a small flare-up with her grill,” Leo said. “Gracie heard the explosion and called 911.”

  “She’s a smart girl.” Sadie closed the dishwasher, then dried her hands on a towel. “Not to mention brave.”

  “She did the right thing, turning off the grill.”

  “No, I meant the way she helped her neighbor into her house and stuck around to make sure she was okay.” Sadie wrinkled her nose. “That is one unfriendly woman.”

  “She’s not that bad.”

  “I don’t know about that. Molly told me they went over when... What is her name? Patty?”

  “Penelope,” he murmured.

  “Right. Penelope.” Sadie took the bottle from James. Sipped. “Anyway, the whole family went over when Penelope and her son moved in and she wouldn’t even let them inside, just stood there in the doorway talking to them through six inches of space.”

  “If they had all five boys with them,” James said, “I wouldn’t have let them in, either. Those kids are like a wrecking crew. But messier. And louder.”

  Sadie opened her mouth, then shut it and shook her head. “I was going to say they aren’t that bad, but yeah...they’re pretty wild. Still, Penelope didn’t know that. Not upon first meeting them. And she refused the casserole Molly made.” Sadie gave a quick nod as if that helped prove her point. “Just flat out said no thanks.”

  Leo thought of the food Penelope had in the refrigerator. It had seemed normal enough. Except for a package of ground turkey. Who ate turkey when they could have real beef? “Maybe she has dietary issues.”

  “Maybe,” Sadie grumbled, crossing her arms then swinging them wide, the beer bottle tipping precariously. “All I know is that Molly has tried several times to be friendly. When she invited them over for a picnic, Penelope said she had too much work to do. When she asked Penelope if she was interested in joining their walking group, she claimed she got home from work too late.” Sadie wiggled the beer in time with her tapping toe. “Every time Molly tries to initiate a conversation, Penelope can’t get away fast enough.”

  James reached for his beer, but his wife moved it at the last second. “Maybe she doesn’t like Molly.”

  “Please, Molly’s a sweetheart. I think it’s because she’s...” She looked around, a wide-eyed sprite wearing painted-on jeans and that eye-searing pink sweater, then lowered her voice. “In the witness protection program. Or hiding from the mob. Or the law.”

  “She’s not,” Leo said, used to his sister-in-law’s wild imagination. “She’s an accountant at Stone, Bragg and Smithfield.”

  “Oh.” Sadie made a face. “Yuck. Doing math all day would make anyone uptight, I guess. But still, there’s no reason to be so secretive. No one even knows where she’s from or why she moved to Shady Grove or what happened to her husband...if she even had one.”

  “She did,” Leo said and wished he’d kept his mouth shut when he felt James’s gaze, steady and searching, on him. It gave him the willies, like an itch in the middle of his back he couldn’t reach. “She’s divorced. And she’s not really uptight, just...guarded.” He thought about how uncomfortable she’d been when he’d gone to her office. “Maybe a little shy.” Raising his bottle to his mouth, he caught James and Sadie staring at him as if he’d sucked his beer up through his nose. “What?”

  “You know a lot about her,” James said.

  Leo rolled his shoulders, but the itch in the middle of his upper back remained. Relentless. A warning that he needed to tread carefully. “Not really.”

  “You like her,” James said, his tone smug.

  Leo shifted, then realized that would only make James think he was right. “Have we traveled back in time? Am I in middle school again?”

  “Don’t try to deny it. Why else would you know so much about a single, attractive—” James glanced at Sadie. “I assume she’s attractive?”

  “I’ve only caught glimpses of her a couple of times when I was at Molly’s, but yes, she’s pretty enough. Short dark hair. Nice figure. But she dresses like my mom. And, as was previously mentioned, she has a son.”

  “Doesn’t sound like your usual type,” James said to Leo.

  “I don’t have a type.”

  “Sure you do. Young, blonde and stupid.”

  Picking at the corner of the label on his bottle, Leo’s mouth flattened. Maybe that had been his previous demographic, but things changed. People changed. “I don’t limit myself when it comes to women. I love them all.” He forced a grin, and promptly felt as if he was hiding behind a mask. “And they love me right back.”

  Usually.

  James looked thoughtful, never a good thing. “What happened?”

  “With what?”

  “With this Penelope.”

  He raised his beer in a salute. “Not a damn thing.”

  James’s eyes lit with humor. “She shot you down, huh?”

  “What can I say?” He gave a self-deprecating shrug. “It was bound to happen sooner or later.”

  Though he would have preferred later. Much, much later.

  With a laugh, James slapped Leo’s back. “Chin up. I’m sure there are still plenty of women out there gullible enough to fall for whatever line you feed them.”

  That was the problem. He was getting tired of the lines. Of the casual hookups.

  His family’s fault. They’d started an epidemic of coupling the likes of which hadn’t been seen since Noah and his ark. Maddie and Neil. James and Sadie. Eddie and Harper.

  It was enough to make even the most die-hard bachelor wonder if he was missing out.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  STARING OUT THE passenger’s-side window, Penelope tapped her fingers against the steering wheel of her car. Kids of all shapes, sizes and levels of fashion sensibilities trickled out the high school’s front doors. But none of them were her son.

  Late again.

  She’d been prepared for this, she reminded herself. She’d told him his doctor’s appointment in Pittsburgh was at four—when in truth, he wasn’t scheduled to be there until four-twenty. She’d reminded him of the appointment that morning, told him she’d be at the school to pick him up at three o’clock.

  It was now twenty after.

  She picked up her phone and pressed his number. It went directly to voice mail. “Andrew,” she said after the beep, “I’m out front waiting for you.”

  Five minutes later, the kids who had been milling around enjoying the sunny day had all but disappeared. With a huff of irritation, Penelope got out of her car, locked it and swung her purse over her shoulder. She marched up to the doors. Locked.

  Of course. They locked them each day after the first bell rang. She pressed the buzzer. Nothing. She tried again.

  “I think they left.”

  She turned to find Luke’s girlfriend, a tall redhead wearing shorts and a T-shirt, smiling at her. What was with teenagers and the skimpy clothes they wore? It was barely sixty degrees for goodness’ sake. Must be all those rampaging hormones making them hot-blooded.

  “Hello, Kendall,” Penelope said. “Nice to see you again.”

  “Actually, it’s Kennedy.”

  Her face warmed at her blunder. She hated getting anything wrong, especially in front of others. “Oh, I’m sorry, Kennedy.” She glanced at the doors. “So there’s no one in the office?”

  “They might be around, but I know sometimes they leave early if there’s nothing going on.”

  “I’m looking for Andrew. He was supposed to meet me, but he must have forgotten.”

  Forgotten. Didn’t care. Either way.

  Kennedy waved a
t another girl who raced past. “Do you want me to find him for you? Or you could, you know, come with me. I just saw him actually.”

  “I’ll walk with you if you don’t mind.” She was afraid if Andrew was told his mother was waiting, he’d give one of his annoying shrugs and go back to whatever it was he was doing. “Aren’t your legs cold?”

  Yes, that was a completely mom thing to say. Then again, she was a mom. Inane questions were to be expected.

  “A little. I’m on the cross-country team and we have practice in, like, ten minutes.” They walked down the sidewalk toward the rear of the school. “Once we get running, I’m more than warm enough.”

  All Penelope knew about cross-country running was that the course could be as long as seven or so miles and it encompassed different kinds of terrain. Still, it sounded like a nice sport. A nice, safe sport. She wondered if Andrew would be interested in trying it. He could use an outlet, both for his physical energy and for his emotional well-being. “Do you like it?”

  “It’s okay. My favorite sport is basketball, but that’s in the winter. I like to have something to keep me busy.”

  Smart girl. Teenagers needed extracurricular interests in their lives, an activity or hobby to keep them socially engaged and focused. It developed a good work ethic, as well as time-management skills. She’d mention joining an after-school program or club to Andrew.

  If she ever found him.

  They approached the football field. Kids and adults littered the track circling it. Kennedy led the way down the paved walkway, then veered right, taking them behind the school toward another field, this one torn up and muddy.

  “Your school has two football fields?” Penelope asked, carefully maneuvering the wide, concrete steps in her heels.

  “This is the practice field. The football team only plays games on the turf field.”

  They were practicing now, bending at the waist and putting their hands in the mud. Penelope wrinkled her nose. It was completely unsanitary.

  They all looked the same in their mud-streaked helmets, filthy pants that ended at the knee, mesh jerseys over T-shirts and spiked shoes. A ragtag bunch of testosterone-filled boys looking for an outlet for their aggressions.