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Fireman Dad
Betsy St. Amant


“Mommy, I Want To Be A Fireman. ”Widowed mother Marissa Hawthorne’s little boy wants to be like his new hero—firefighter Jacob Greene. But Marissa and her son lost too much to the profession of firefighting already. She can’t possibly let either of them get close to the man, no matter how noble he is. Especially because her own father is Jacob’s boss.But when Jacob hires her to plan a special birthday party for his niece, Marissa soon learns that Jacob is a hero in many ways. And that taking risks for love is what life and faith are truly about.










Jacob wondered what it would be like to be a father.

He led the way to Marissa’s car, unable to help but picture several more nights exactly like this one—maybe next time holding hands or bringing her son, Owen, along for a ride on the two-story carousal.

If the kid was anything like his mother, he had to be one amazing little boy.

What would it be like to have a family of his own? Jacob wondered. Marissa was a great mom—that much was obvious in the way her eyes sparkled as she told stories of Owen’s antics.

They reached Marissa’s SUV, and Jacob paused beside it.

She checked her watch and grimaced. “I better hurry. I told Owen’s babysitter I’d be back by nine.”

Jacob opened the driver’s door for her and grinned. “Mommy to the rescue.”

He liked that Owen came first with her. He was liking a lot about Marissa.


Dear Reader,

As authors, we’re often instructed to “write what we know.” While I thankfully have not had to experience life as a single mom, I have experienced life as a fireman’s wife and as an unemployed fireman’s wife. If this story was real, I would be Liz. My husband was laid off from our city’s fire department in December 2009 because of city budget cuts, just like in the story. He spent two years in service, missing family events and holidays for the job he wanted to make a lifelong career—for what seemed like nothing. My similarities with Liz stop at the circumstances, however, because she easily reached a level of trust in God that took me nearly a year to obtain. I had days of faith, but had more days when I looked at my toddler and simply cried, not understanding why God would have me reach my dream of becoming a stay-at-home mom only to send me straight back to the workforce nine months later. But like Liz realized early on, God is still God regardless of where paychecks come from. He always provides for His children—sometimes through other people, sometimes through the sweat of your brow and sometimes through mysterious envelopes of cash tucked into your child’s diaper bag at church. He did all of the above for us during our time of need and He’ll do the same for you if you seek Him first. He will never leave you and will not forsake you! Hold tightly to His promises today.

Many blessings,











Fireman Dad



Betsy St. Amant






















www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


I will not leave you nor forsake you.

—Joshua 1:5


To my husband, Brandon, for your heart. You’re my everyday hero.


Acknowledgments

Many thanks to my agent, Tamela Hancock Murray, for your encouragement and for always only being a phone call away. Also thanks to my editor, Emily Rodmell, for your excellent editing skills. I have the best team! Thanks also to my husband, Brandon, and to Kent Hathorn, for answering those endless, “would this be believable?” questions I asked about fire department rank, uniforms, cars, schedules and everything in betweeen. And to all firemen everywhere, but especially in my hometown—thanks for what you do. You have my full gratitude in a job that rarely sees any.




Chapter One


As usual, Marissa Hawthorne was one knight short of a fairy tale.

She stared at the flat rear tire of her well-used SUV, as if her glare might somehow put more air into the rubber. “Great.” Swiping a loose strand of blond hair out of her eyes, she let out a sigh. Just when she thought she’d finally adjusted to widowhood over the years—the empty right side of the bed, the leftovers from dinner, the struggles of single parenting—times like this highlighted the fact that she was truly alone.

Marissa tilted her head and studied the tire. She could probably figure out how to put on the spare, but she doubted her ability to jack up the car by herself. Not to mention the late morning Louisiana humidity had already sent a trail of perspiration down her back, despite the lingering remains of spring. At least she had made it to the parking lot of her event planning office, Your Special Day, before the mangled tire bent the rim and added that expense to the incident. She’d dropped Owen off at school and had turned on Spruce Street to head to work, when she felt the telltale thumping of the wheel.

Marissa braced one arm against the door of the hatch and briefly closed her eyes. Nothing to do but give it her best try—calling her dad was out of the question, nor did she want to shell out extra cash she didn’t have to spare for a road service crew.

God, You know I don’t ask for a lot of favors anymore. But can’t I get a break? Just one? She opened the rear door and tugged at the flooring that covered the spare. Here went nothing.

“Need a hand?”

Marissa jerked upright at the deep voice breaking the silence of the parking lot. A tall, dark-haired man wearing jeans and black sunglasses strolled toward her. She’d been so caught up in her own turmoil she hadn’t even heard his truck pull into a space across the lot. Marissa forced a smile, a polite no ready to roll off her lips, when the stranger whisked off his sunglasses. Pale blue eyes stared into hers, and her heart stuttered. The stranger’s clean-shaven jaw broke into a smile that could have easily thawed winter’s chill if the April sun hadn’t already long done so. She opened her mouth, but couldn’t find her voice.

“I’m Jacob Greene.” He held out his hand and she shook it, mentally kicking herself for the distraction. He’s only a man, Marissa, not a celebrity. Although he certainly could have been, with those chiseled good looks. In fact, he almost seemed familiar—but she couldn’t place how.

She cleared her throat. “Marissa Hawthorne. I own Your Special Day.” She released his hand and pointed to the store behind them.

“Then you’re the lady I was coming to see.” He smiled again, his teeth white and even against his tanned skin. His gaze drifted to her SUV. “And it looks like I was just in time.”

You have no idea. Maybe God was still in the business of answering her prayers after all. Marissa smiled back. “I hate to play the damsel in distress, but I have to admit, this one has me stumped. I’d say I was having a Monday, if this wasn’t Wednesday.”

Jacob laughed. “I know what you mean. We all have those days.” He easily removed the tire from the hatch and set it on the ground. “I can have you ready to go in a few minutes.”

“I really appreciate it. It’s not a big rush, since I’m already at work. I just need to be able to pick up my son later this afternoon from school.” She pushed up the sleeves of her thin, peasant-style blouse, trying to force her eyes away from the tight lines of muscle in Jacob’s arms as he worked the lug nuts loose on the flat.

Jacob’s eyes darted to hers, then back to the tire as he worked. “That shouldn’t be an issue. How old is your son?”

“Owen’s seven.” Marissa tugged absently at the necklace she wore every day—an amethyst symbolizing Owen’s February birthday—her stomach churning at the realization of how quickly her baby boy was growing up. Time was flying fast—too fast. Kevin had been dead almost five years now, and she’d been back in her hometown of Orchid Hill, Louisiana, for a little over a year. Sometimes it seemed as if the last few years were nothing but a dream.

Sometimes a nightmare.

“I have a niece who is about to turn seven.” Jacob wrestled the jack into place and began to hike up the SUV. He grunted with the effort. “She goes to Orchid Hill Elementary.”

“So does Owen.”

Jacob grinned. “Small world.”

“I’m not sure about that, but it’s definitely a small town.” Marissa looked away, her fingers zipping over the necklace chain as she pretended to study something over her shoulder. Did he have any idea the effect of those dimples? They were downright dangerous.

She shouldn’t notice such things. Dating was not a priority—Owen remained planted at the top of that short list, which meant work lingered a close second in order to provide for her son. Thankfully business had been good. At least the recession didn’t seem to stop people from celebrating the milestones in their lives.

A familiar tsunami of regret washed over Marissa, mingling with the wind that teased the loose hairs from her hastily applied clip. Happy as she was with Owen, Marissa couldn’t help the melancholy that sometimes took over when she was planning a wedding shower or anniversary party for a client. She and Kevin might not have had the happiest of marriages, and he might have put his firefighting career over his family to a fault—just like her father—but it was still hard to face the fact that she would likely never get to celebrate an anniversary again. As a single mom and a business owner, who had time for anything else?

She tore her gaze away from the navy T-shirt stretching across Jacob’s broad shoulders. Nope, no point in noticing his dimples. Or his muscles. Or the way his dark hair curled over his forehead—

Marissa jerked as the wrench clattered to the pavement. Jacob removed the flat tire and began to assemble the spare. “Be sure not to drive on this thing for very long—or very fast. The last thing you want is a blowout.”

“No kidding.” Marissa shuddered. “Thank you again for your help. I’d have been stuck.” If not physically stuck, then financially—or emotionally if she’d been forced to cave and call her dad to bail her out.

Jacob tightened the last of the lug nuts and stood, swiping his hands on the legs of his pants before placing the tools and the flat back into the hatch. “Think nothing of it. I’m glad to help a—what’d you call yourself? Damsel in distress?” He grinned, then shut the rear door and wiped sweat from his forehead with his shirtsleeve.

Marissa’s business skills snapped back into effect at his tired gesture, and she motioned toward her office. “Come on inside, let me get you some water. It’s the least I can do.”

“That sounds good.” Jacob fell into step beside her as they crossed the lot to her small, but functional, office space. He opened the door for her. “Ladies first.”

Apparently chivalry wasn’t dead in Orchid Hill, after all. Marissa thanked him and hurried to grab a bottle of water from the dorm fridge she kept beside her desk. She handed it to him. “Have a seat.”

“Nice place.” Jacob twisted the lid off the bottle and took a long sip as he looked around the open room, painted yellow with a mural of balloons and children on the far wall, and she couldn’t help but warm at the compliment. He paused to touch the top of a bobble-head clown on the bookshelf that held party theme books. “Festive. Olivia would love that.”

“Olivia?” His girlfriend, probably. Good thing she decided to put thoughts of his dimples far away. Marissa sat down behind her desk, grateful to be back on her own turf. She might not know anything about changing tires, but she knew party planning. Maybe she could offer Jacob—and Olivia—a discount for his help.

“Olivia is my niece.” Jacob took the chair across from her desk and finished his water with a quick swig.

Niece. Not girlfriend. Marissa tried to ignore the relief that seeped into her stomach and nodded for him to go on.

“That’s why I came to your store in the first place, actually,” Jacob continued.

“So it wasn’t because you received my desperate SOS signal?” Marissa grinned, then regretted the way her heart thumped when Jacob smiled back, dimples on high alert.

“I thought I heard something.” He laughed. “Seriously, though, I was hoping to hire you to plan my niece’s birthday party.”

“Sounds good.” Marissa flipped open her leather day planner and fanned through the pages. Hopefully he wouldn’t choose the weeks coming up that she had blocked off for the upcoming fundraiser. A city budget cut had recently led to a decision to lay off six firemen, and members of Orchid Hill Church asked Marissa to organize a big fundraiser for the affected families. As the daughter of one fireman and the widow of another, Marissa could relate all too easily to the families involved and was glad someone had come up with a way to help.

Even if her father, Fire Chief Lyle Brady, wasn’t nearly as thrilled by Marissa’s participation.

Marissa tapped her calendar with her pen. “What date did you have in mind?”

Jacob offered a sheepish shrug. “That’s where my next question comes in. It’s sort of short notice.”

Marissa looked up. “How short?”

“Less than three weeks away.”

“How much less?” Marissa’s eyebrows rose.

Jacob’s lips twisted to the side. “Four days?”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “The party is supposed to be in two weeks and three days?”

“Hey, you’re quick with math.” He winked, and her stomach flipped with regret at the thought of disappointing him. She had a policy about last-minute parties—she didn’t take them. But how could she turn him down when he had just done her a huge favor with her car?

She drew a deep breath. It was business, nothing personal. Surely he would understand. “I wish I could, but I have a policy against short notices. It takes time away from Owen.” She gestured to the framed photo on her cherry credenza, where Owen struck a muscle-man pose for the camera. Feeling wistful, she admired his silky blond hair that matched her own. “Being a single mom is rough enough without working overtime.” That was the understatement of the century.

“I’m sure it does.”

Why Marissa wanted to share more with him, she didn’t know. She swallowed. “I’m a widow.”

Jacob’s sky blue eyes met hers, full of compassion and something else she couldn’t identify. Respect? Admiration? “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Marissa lifted one shoulder in a shrug and forced a small smile. “It all happened a long time ago.” More like a lifetime.

Jacob nodded slowly. “Listen, Marissa. Normally I would accept your reasons and leave it at that, but I’m sort of desperate. I want my niece to have the celebration she deserves.” His expression tightened. “Olivia’s family has had a rough couple of weeks, and their budget is tight, to put it mildly. I don’t want that to affect her birthday. They’ve all been through enough.”

Marissa’s resolve weakened. Handsome, charming and a family man. She shouldn’t be following that train of thought, but it chugged into her head regardless as she stared at her day planner. Maybe she could squeeze in one birthday party for a deserving little girl—but no, she didn’t even have a location nailed down yet for the fundraiser. If she overbooked herself now, that event would suffer, and the families of the firemen would be even more disappointed than they already were.

She clicked her ballpoint pen on and off, debating, then slowly shook her head. “I admire that and wish I could make an exception. I really do—but a big festival has my schedule tighter than usual right now.”

“What festival is that?” Jacob leaned forward as if truly interested in what Marissa had to say. When was the last time a man had looked at her in that way?

She shook her head to clear it. “The Fireman’s Festival—to raise money for the families of the local firemen who were recently laid off.”

Jacob’s eyes widened. “You’re the woman organizing the fundraiser? My church is the one that hired you.” He smiled. “Like I said, small world.”

No kidding. If she knew guys like Jacob still went to church, she might have given it another try instead of spending Sundays sleeping in with Owen. Her faith took a hit after Kevin’s death, and so far church brought more grief than healing. It was easier to drown reality in iced Pop-Tarts and cartoons while snuggling with her little man. Marissa forced her thoughts back to the present. “How’d you hear about Your Special Day if not through your church?”

“Newspaper advertisement.”

Good to know that chunk of money had been a good investment. Though, at this point, a partially wasted one, since she wouldn’t be able to plan the birthday party for him and his niece.

Jacob hooked one ankle over the other, as if settling in for a long conversation. “I know the church appreciates your taking the job. Pastor Rob mentioned the generous discount you’re paying forward to the cause.”

A warm flush crept up Marissa’s neck. She’d hoped to keep that part quiet—it was embarrassing, especially if people found out how emotionally against the profession of firefighting she remained in the first place. No one would understand why she was doing it. But then again, most people weren’t twenty-eight-year-old widows of a fireman, struggling to raise a child alone. “It’s not a big deal. Not compared to what these guys are going through, I’m sure.”

Though, a part of her couldn’t help but think the laid-off firemen’s wives had to be relieved. After the uniformed men lowered Kevin’s casket into the ground, Marissa held Owen close and promised herself that if she ever dated again, any future prospects would have a desk job—something safe, with predictable hours and lots of free time for family. Between her late husband and her father, she was through with missed holidays and shift work. She wanted to be number one in someone’s life.

That is, if she ever figured out how to live again.

The first thing Jacob Greene had noticed when he had walked across the parking lot was the beautiful, petite blonde wrestling with the hatch floorboard of her SUV. After she’d mentioned her son, his heart sank. Of course someone like her would have been snatched up long ago. But the mention of her single status and that telltale bare ring finger lifted his spirits a second time.

Jacob smiled at Marissa from across her office desk. The water he’d chugged down churned in his stomach at her sweet grin of response. He hoped he hadn’t made too big an idiot of himself, staring at her the way he had outside when he first arrived. He’d been tempted to leave the sunglasses on to prevent her from noticing during his stroll across the lot. But she’d finally introduced herself in that confident, slightly Southern voice that warmed his insides like his favorite cinnamon rolls and settled in just as sweet, and he couldn’t help but relax.

And speaking of sweet—it took a special woman to get involved with a fundraiser like she was doing, for people she likely didn’t even know. Beautiful and compassionate. He hadn’t found that combination in a long time—and he’d certainly been looking.

With a start, Jacob realized he was staring again, but so was Marissa. He knew he should say something more to persuade her to plan his niece’s party—especially considering if a small business such as Your Special Day couldn’t find time to do him a favor, the larger companies in town were probably booked solid, too. But he was afraid that the moment he opened his mouth he’d mention something about how that flowered top brought out her green eyes, and he’d be in big trouble.

Marissa cleared her throat and broke the connection between them. “Again, I’m sorry. I wish there was time.”

Jacob hesitated. He hated being pushy, but he couldn’t bear the disappointment on Olivia’s face—or his sister-in-law’s—if he came home proverbially empty-handed. His brother’s wife, Liz, would insist it didn’t matter—but he said he’d do this for them, and he wanted to keep his word. Anyone could throw together a bunch of Mylar balloons and sprinkle confetti on a table. He wanted Olivia’s party to be done right. If their financial situation hadn’t changed, Liz would have gone all out for her only daughter, and he intended to do the same.

Hence his desperation for Marissa to take the job. Jacob could have just handed Liz the cash and told her to get whatever she wanted for the party, but she had enough on her plate. She deserved the break and the chance to be involved with Olivia on her big day instead of stuck in the kitchen cutting cake and cleaning up messes like in years past. He needed Marissa to say yes.

Jacob clicked his tongue, stalling. “Maybe I could help you out somehow with the fundraiser, so you’re not so swamped. Then you could do both.”

Marissa raised one eyebrow, and he took that as a sign that she was considering his random proposition. He rushed on before she lost interest. “I own a lawn business. I could help with ground prep or flower planting for the fundraiser. Whatever you needed—on one condition, of course.” He grinned, and Marissa smiled back before she glanced down at her planner.

Hopefully they could strike a deal and both get something they needed. Besides, it was the least he could do to volunteer his side job services, after his brother’s job was cut at the station and not his own. Jacob had more seniority within the fire department, having worked three years longer than Ryan had, but he’d been the one to convince his little brother to go for it in the first place. Ryan had aced the academy and dedicated himself to two years of service, and what had it gotten him? A tiny severance and a big goodbye.

“That’s nice of you to offer.” Marissa looked up. “But I don’t even have a confirmed location yet. We can’t use your church because of weddings that are booked there the entire month of May. This is a busy time of year.”

He could fix that, too. “Hey, I have ten acres south of the city limits. That should be plenty of room for whatever you have planned.” He gave a pointed look to the blank pages in front of her. “Or will have planned.”

She laughed. “It is sort of hard to make arrangements when you aren’t sure of the venue.” Marissa rolled in her lower lip and she studied him in some sort of unofficial test. He met her gaze full-on, and tried to ignore the attraction flickering in his stomach. Business, this is business. Even if she was one of the most beautiful women he’d come across in a long time.

Marissa inhaled. “One condition, huh?”

“Two guesses what it might be.” He winked.

Her mouth twitched into a smile, and Jacob fought to keep his own in check. He must have passed her scrutiny, because she finally nodded. “I’ll have to see the property for myself before I can say for sure, but I think I will take you up on that offer. One last-minute party for ten acres of fundraising.” She held out her hand.

“It’s a deal.” Jacob shook her hand for the second time that day, trying not to dwell on how soft her palm felt against his calloused one. “You won’t regret it.” Not to mention having the festival on his own property would make the landscaping aspect easier, since he kept his yard up regularly. He’d never been a fan of the guys in the department who ran side businesses like his and didn’t even maintain their own yards. What would a client think if they drove by his house and saw knee-high weeds?

“I really appreciate this.” Marissa settled back into her chair, crossing one leg over the other and relaxing as if a burden had been lifted.

“What, being coerced?” Jacob laughed. “Happy to help.”

She chuckled. “Now that I have a location, I can get started on the fun stuff.”

“Which is?” he prodded, wanting her to keep smiling.

“The when and where are important,” she answered. “But the what—that’s the good part.”

She was cute when she was in her element. Jacob crossed his arms over his chest, his turn to study her now. “So what is your vision for the fundraiser?”

“I was originally hoping to pull off a mini-carnival, but was afraid I wouldn’t have the space.” She gestured at him. “But I think ten acres will suffice.”

“Well, it’s technically about nine. I do have a house on part of it.” He winced in mock dread. “Is that a deal breaker?”

A flirty spark lit Marissa’s eyes, and she held up one finger in a warning. “We already shook on it, so don’t think you can back out that easily.”

Her teasing gaze linked with his, and a rush of warmth filled Jacob’s chest. “Trust me. Backing out is not on the agenda.”




Chapter Two


Marissa inched her SUV forward in the line of cars, all waiting for Orchid Hill Elementary to open its doors and release a horde of children from its red-bricked depths. She kept one eye out for Owen, grateful the crossing guard was on duty in his bright yellow vest and hat. Owen was usually a pretty cautious child, but sometimes his excitement ran away with him and made him less than careful.

He was like his father that way.

Her cell rang and Marissa dug it out of her purse. “Hello?” She craned her head to see around the car in front of her. Owen must still be waiting with his teacher in the school yard.

“Marissa, hi. This is Jacob Greene.”

She was glad her foot was already on the brake, or she’d have jerked her SUV to a dead halt. “Oh! Hi. Hello.” The words filtered out more like a croak than a greeting, and she mentally chided herself for the lack of professionalism.

He hesitated. “Did I catch you at a bad time?”

“No, I’m just picking up Owen from school.” She cleared her throat, hoping to eliminate the frog that seemed to have taken up residence. When she gave Jacob her business card yesterday at the office, she never imagined he’d have called so soon—or at all, for that matter.

“Gotcha.” He laughed. “I’ve picked up Olivia before—I know that can be a rough crowd.”

“No kidding.”

Jacob continued. “Were you able to get that tire fixed?”

“Yes, after work yesterday. There was a nail, so they patched it. I’m good to go, thanks to you.”

“Nah, I didn’t do much. Nothing anyone else wouldn’t have done.” Jacob brushed off the compliment, and Marissa couldn’t help but admire the humility. Kevin had always soaked in—even sought out—praise, always trying to be the hero. But why was she comparing them?

She licked her dry lips. “So, what’s up? Did you have another idea for your niece’s party?” Surely he hadn’t called only to check on her tire.

“Actually, I was calling to ask you a question.” Now it was Jacob’s turn to clear his throat, and Marissa could have sworn she detected a hint of apprehension beneath the cough. “Do you have plans for Friday evening?”

She never had plans on a Friday night, unless you counted the occasional pizza-and-a-movie outing with Owen, or the weekends she spent with her laptop catching up on work. “Not at the moment.” She wanted to ask why, but held her tongue, afraid to hope. He wasn’t asking her out. They’d just met yesterday and he was hiring her as a professional event planner. Come back to real life, Marissa. This isn’t one of Owen’s Disney DVDs.

“I was wondering if you’d like to meet me at the Boardwalk downtown.”

Her cell phone slipped from her fingers into her lap. Marissa scrambled to grab it as the woman in the van behind her honked the horn. “The Boardwalk?” She accelerated into the vacated spot ahead in line, her thoughts racing even faster. The Orchid Hill Boardwalk was a huge shopping district on the river outside of downtown, with a movie theater, restaurants and a giant two-story carousal. It was considered to be a popular dating scene among couples of all ages, though family-oriented as well. She’d taken Owen a few Saturdays ago for an ice cream cone and new shoes. But going with Jacob on a Friday night—that was different. She’d need to find a babysitter, and something to wear, and—

“They have several party goods stores and a garden nursery, so I thought we could get a head start on the birthday party plans and what you might need for the fundraiser.”

Marissa jerked back to the present as reality crashed around her. Her heart thumped an unsteady rhythm and she gripped the steering wheel tighter with her free hand. Not a date. She ignored the rock of disappointment in her stomach. Probably for the best—business, she was used to. Dating, not so much.

Jacob’s voice rose slightly in volume. “Hello? Are you still there?”

She realized with a start she hadn’t answered. “Yes, sorry. Just … driving.” More like driving herself crazy. She briefly closed her eyes to straighten her shaky world back on its axis.

“Is that a yes to my invitation, or a yes that you’re still there?” Jacob’s teasing tone warmed her more than the sun reflecting off the dashboard and onto her bare forearms, and the disappointment faded slightly.

Marissa smiled. “Both.” Why not? Might as well discuss business outside on the Boardwalk instead of at her desk, where she stayed cooped up most days. She hadn’t been out with anyone other than Owen or her mother in a long time.

Too long.

“Great.” Jacob let out an exhale. “If you give me your address, I’d be happy to pick you up.”

“Thanks, but I’ll just meet you there.” Of course Jacob would be a gentleman and want to pick her up, even for a business meeting, but she had one hard-and-fast rule—Owen didn’t meet any men in her life until it had the potential to be serious. If this wasn’t even a date, then there was no need to confuse—or egg on—her son. Owen had been trying to convince Marissa to go on dates for months.

“No problem. I’ll see you at the Boardwalk at six-thirty, then.”

“See you then.” Marissa said goodbye and hung up, relieved Jacob hadn’t pushed the issue of meeting him. She would hate to make things awkward by explaining her reasons, but when it came to Owen, his welfare came first—even if that decision often had her keeping people at arm’s length.

Marissa peered around the car in front of her and finally spotted Owen jogging toward the SUV. She unlocked the back passenger door and he climbed inside, shrugging off his backpack and tossing it on the seat beside him. “Hey, buddy, how was your day?” Could he tell how flushed she felt? She aimed the AC vent toward her neck and turned to her son with a smile, trying to push aside the remaining disappointment lingering in her stomach. If Jacob had asked her on a real date, would she have even said yes? But it didn’t matter. There was no use analyzing what hadn’t happened.

Owen reached for his seat belt with a grin. “School was super cool!”

His hair was rumpled and he smelled like he’d had a little too much fun at recess, but that didn’t stop Marissa from stretching toward him. “Where’s my kiss?”

Owen rolled his eyes, but leaned forward and allowed a quick kiss on his forehead before he buckled in. Marissa fastened her own belt and merged into traffic. “What was the super cool part?” With Owen, that could be anything from finding a frog at recess to getting a decent grade on a math quiz. Either would be equally shocking. At least he made up for his lack of math ability with excellent reading and writing skills.

“Firemen came to our school today!”

Marissa’s eyes darted to the rearview mirror. Her own shock stared back in the reflection. Owen bounced in his seat, his eyes lit with excitement. “They talked about safety and stuff. We should check the batteries in our smoke detectors. Have you checked them?” He bounced again. “Have you?”

Marissa’s hands clenched around the steering wheel and she worked to keep her voice even. “Yes, buddy, I did a few weeks ago.” How could his class have done a fire safety demonstration without a notice? The teacher should have sent something out to the parents—though most parents wouldn’t have the same issues with it that she did. Her knuckles whitened. If her father had arranged for this and didn’t even bother to tell her—

“One of the firemen pulled a quarter from my ear and he let me keep it!” Owen held up a shiny coin and flipped it from one palm to the other. “See? He was so cool! He told me all about firefighting and how I could do it one day, too, if I wanted. Like Grandpa and Daddy.”

Marissa forced a smile in the mirror at Owen as she flipped on the blinker. “That is pretty exciting.” Only halfway listening as he rattled on about fire trucks and all the equipment the firefighters had shown him, Marissa made a sharp left and veered off course toward Oak Street.

She had a stop to make.

“Grandpa!” Owen ran inside Central Station ahead of Marissa into his grandfather’s office.

Fire Chief Lyle Brady twisted in his leather swivel chair, eyes widening with a flicker of surprise. “Well, this is a shock. What brings you two by?”

Marissa leaned against the doorjamb as her dad opened his arms to Owen. Owen hesitated, then edged toward him with a shy grin—which promptly faded upon inspection of his grandfather’s desk. All evidence of shyness erased, Owen tilted his head to one side. “Hey, where’s the candy? You used to have caramel squares on your desk.”

Marissa bit back a snort. There was the son she knew and loved.

“The receptionist has it at her desk now.” Chief patted his ample stomach. “It was too tempting at close range.”

“Can I have a piece?” Owen asked his grandpa, then caught himself and met Marissa’s gaze instead. “I mean, may I have a piece, Mom?”

“Sure, buddy. You go get some candy and let me talk to Grandpa alone for a minute.” She stepped sideways as Owen barreled past to charm the receptionist out of her candy bowl.

“That doesn’t sound good.” Chief crossed his arms over his chest. “But you haven’t been by in months, so I’m not surprised there’s some kind of reason now.”

“The door opens both ways, Dad.” Marissa folded her arms in front of her racing heart, mirroring her father’s image.

“Is this about the fundraiser and the layoffs?” His thick eyebrows furrowed nearly into one. “I told you it’s not good politics for family to be involved in business. This thing could get messy.”

Marissa inhaled, intending to count to ten but only getting to four. “Trust me, you’ve made your stand on that clear. But that’s not why I came.”

“Go on.” He leaned forward.

Marissa bit her lip, fighting the swirl of emotions raging in her stomach. She waited until the boiling cauldron settled. “I can’t believe you arranged for your men to speak to Owen’s class at school and didn’t at least warn me.”

“Warn you? Is that all?” Her father laughed, a booming, husky sound she never heard often enough growing up. He relaxed backward, his bulk causing the chair to squeak. “They were telling the kids to stay away from matches, not escorting them through a live drill.”

“It was more than that, and you know it.” Marissa’s voice rose against her will and she quickly glanced over her shoulder down the hall into the lobby. Owen was attempting to juggle three caramel squares as he told the receptionist about his homework assignment. Just in case, Marissa stepped inside the office and shut the door behind her all but a crack.

Her father’s eyebrows rose, but to his credit he waited for her to finish.

“All Owen talked about the entire drive here was how cool the firemen were and how he wants to drive a fire truck when he grows up.” She bit back the rest of Owen’s sentence before the words could leave her mouth. Just like Grandpa.

She swallowed. Just like Daddy.

He shrugged. “Hey, firemen are pretty cool.”

“Dad.” Marissa’s eyes narrowed. Would he ever take her seriously? Did he not care that she lost her family because of the career he held in such high esteem?

Chief Brady released a heavy sigh and braced his elbows against the desk. “Marissa, you’re overreacting.” Creases marred the skin by his eyes, more so than she remembered noticing the last time she’d seen him. But that had been like he said—months ago. In fact, probably not since Owen’s school play around President’s Day. Even though she’d been back in Orchid Hill for some time now, her father remained absent as usual. Her mom made efforts to stop by at least once a week with treats for Owen, but the chief rarely came along, choosing to spend his time at the office instead.

Not that she minded all that much. Over the years, Marissa and her father had reached some kind of silent agreement to disagree, about—well, everything. Sometimes the absence made it easier.

Even if it did still rub her heart raw.

Her dad continued, “Owen is seven, not seventeen. He’s going to want to be a cowboy, an astronaut and a pro ball player over the next couple of years. Take it with a grain of salt.” He shrugged. “He’s a boy. Boys have big dreams.”

“But we don’t have anyone in our family who flies into space or rides rodeos for a living.” Marissa shot a pointed glance at the framed certificates, awards and degrees decorating the office walls. “Your career is already an influence on him.” A fact that kept her up more nights than she liked to admit, locked in fear of the future because of the past. Maybe Kevin’s death was chalked up to an accident, but accidents happened in the world of firefighting.

A lot.

Her dad flexed his hands, popping his knuckles. “It’s a career I happen to love, Marissa.”

No kidding. The bitterness felt heavy on her tongue and Marissa swallowed, looking away as emotion burned in her throat. She wouldn’t get into the past here, not now. It wouldn’t matter anyway—she’d learned that tear-filled lesson years ago. With her Dad, work always came first.

Apparently it still did.

“I can’t promise to go out of my way to steer Owen in an opposite direction.” Chief Brady shrugged, one broad shoulder straining against the neck of his white uniform. “I’m sorry, but if he wants to be a fireman one day, there are worse careers to have.”

“There are also much safer ones.”

Chief tapped his fingers against his desktop, a tick that meant he’d reached a new level of frustration and was trying to hold it back. She might not have learned the sound of his laughter over the years, but she’d certainly learned his tells of anger. He released a sigh. “Marissa, there’s enough stress around this office right now with the layoffs and negative publicity from the press. This isn’t a big deal, and I beg you not to make it one.”

Marissa lowered her voice until it whispered through her lips. “In case you forgot, Owen doesn’t have a dad and I don’t have a husband because of your beloved career.”

Chief didn’t meet her eyes, but the tapping increased as he stared at his desk calendar. A flicker of guilt made Marissa wonder if she’d gone too far, but she pushed it aside. It was impossible to go too far with Chief. He was never around to notice. He might have climbed the ranks in the department faster than most men his age, but at what cost? His desk, organized and neat like his dresser and nightstand had always been at home, lay void of anything personal or resembling family. No photos. No mementos.

No, some things never changed at all.

Marissa drew a steadying breath. “Listen, I don’t expect you to understand. I just expect you to treat me with the respect I deserve as a mother—and not warning me about your men doing a presentation for Owen’s class feels disrespectful. Not to mention that one of your men crossed the line by turning a safety presentation into a personal recruiting session. I should have a say in who and what influences my child.”

“It’s the teacher’s job to notify parents about school demonstrations, not the department’s.”

“But you’re my father.”

He flinched, a movement so fast Marissa wondered if she’d imagined it. “Forget it. I shouldn’t have come.” She turned to the door and wrenched it open.

Chief coughed. “If it makes you happy, I’ll make sure you’re aware of any future presentations. Okay?”

Her back turned, Marissa nodded with little conviction. It was as much of an olive branch as her dad could offer right now.

And as much of one as she was willing to take.

Marissa plastered on a smile as she started down the hallway, stepping back into the comfortable, if not slightly worn, shoes of her role as Mommy. “Come on, Owen! Time to go home.” They were done here.

Jacob kicked his booted feet up on the coffee table, glad this wasn’t his night to cook at the station. They’d just gotten back from working a wreck involving an eighteen-wheeler, a flipped car and one severely dented guardrail. Two hours in the relentless sun doing hazardous material checks and getting the truck driver transported from mangled cab to gurney proved exhausting. Thankfully the driver of the car was all right and had gone to the E.R. as a precaution. Some nights, that wasn’t the case.

Some nights, Jacob possessed no appetite for dinner at all.

“Jacob, Captain said he heard there’s a chance to catch an overtime shift tomorrow. You interested?” Steve Mitchell, driver for their station, hollered from the kitchen, around the corner from where Jacob sat.

“If they hadn’t let six men go, they wouldn’t have an overtime shift to fill.” Regret coated Jacob’s tongue and he bit back any more negative comments. As much as he struggled to keep business and family separate, the city council was making it tricky. If Jacob wasn’t offended by their actions, then he felt guilty of not being a good brother. But if he clung to the guilt, then he grew afraid his work ethic would crash or his bitterness would be revealed to the chiefs—and then his own job would be at risk if there were more layoffs. But that train of thought carried him full circle back to a new guilt of caring for his own welfare when his brother’s was tossed aside.

He was getting sick of no-win situations.

“Couldn’t hear you.” Steve popped his head around the corner, wiping his hands on a dish towel. Whatever he was cooking already smelled burnt, and Jacob’s stomach protested with disappointment. If he had the energy, he would’ve taken over with the wooden spoon, but not tonight.

Jacob tugged the leg of his pants further down over his boot. “Just think it’s strange they’re offering overtime right now.”

“Well, they do have a sudden lack of manpower.” Steve disappeared back into the kitchen.

“Exactly.” It wasn’t the first time Jacob had questioned the political aspects of the department—though it was likely for the best not to know all the details. Maybe once his brother found a new job, Jacob could relax and work would once again be like it used to be. He raised his voice so Steve could hear above the hum of the oven range vent. “Count me out. If you want to sign up for the shift, go ahead.”

Steve’s head poked around the frame a second time, reminding Jacob of a prairie dog. “That’s weird. You used to always jump at overtime offers. What’s changed?”

“Nothing.” Nothing other than his meeting with Marissa tomorrow, that is. But that was none of Steve’s business, and if Steve knew, he’d definitely take it out of context. Jacob had his fill of department gossip a few months ago when a woman he took out one time decided to pop in the station the next day with two dozen brownies. Needless to say, she hadn’t taken his gentle rejection very well. He shuddered at the memory.

“There’s got to be something,” Steve persisted. “Another hot date?” The food on the stove splattered and hissed behind him, and he darted back into the kitchen. “Make sure this one brings brownies again.” He laughed.

“No date. Business.” But even though Jacob said they’d discuss the fundraiser and the birthday party for Olivia, more and more it seemed the only thing he really wanted to discuss was Marissa Hawthorne. Who was she? What did she like? What did she do in her free time? Something about her smile seemed infectious, and business or not, he was looking forward to tomorrow night probably more than he should.

Steve let out an exaggerated sigh from the kitchen. “Surprise, surprise. You never date—with the exception of the brownie girl.”

“Her name was Lisa.”

“You should have taken her out again. She could cook.”

It figured Steve found that one particular quality alone worthy of a long-time commitment. Jacob snorted and grabbed a motorcycle magazine from the coffee table. “Why don’t you worry more about our food in there and less about my love life, huh?” He flipped through the glossy pages. More like lack of love life. It was true he hadn’t dated a lot lately. To his regret, the last few women he’d taken out were like Lisa—overeager, clingy and more interested in the physical than getting to know one another. He might be a red-blooded male, but his faith came first. Besides, they hadn’t connected. It was simple—either the spark was there, or it wasn’t.

With Marissa, there were so many sparks his palm felt like the Fourth of July when they shook hands.

He turned another page. Not that it mattered. They were going to be planning a fundraiser together, so her beauty didn’t count in that respect. So what if she was sweet? He smiled. And funny. And had eyes that seemed to reach clear—

The smoke detector in the kitchen blared at the same time as the overhead distress alarms. Time to go. Jacob jumped up and tossed the magazine on the table, glad he’d left his boots on. Steve moaned from the kitchen as a lid slammed against a pot. “Figures! Right when dinner is almost ready.”

Captain Walker brushed past them toward the bay, snorting as he headed for the trucks. “We’ve had enough soot and ash today already, Steve. It’ll keep.”

“It wasn’t looking that bad.” Steve grabbed the broom they kept in the pantry and jabbed the smoke detector on the ceiling. The piercing shriek stopped, but the fire alarms continued to sound.

“Engine four, trauma four. Fire reported at 6500 Dudley Square. Flames and smoke visible.” The dispatcher’s tone echoed through the small living area. “First party report. All units advise.”

“House fire.” Adrenaline rushed through Jacob’s chest, overflowing his senses with the familiar combination of anxiety and excitement. He followed Captain into the bay, the scent of exhaust fumes and disinfectant assaulting his nostrils. He hoped this house wouldn’t be a goner like the last one his shift had worked a few weeks back. As often as he saw the destruction left behind by a fire’s greedy pulse, the sight of ruined memories and heirlooms never failed to burn something deep inside him. Jacob grabbed his bunker gear from the hooks on the wall and shrugged his arms into the sleeves before swinging up inside the backseat of the cab.

Steve took the driver’s seat and cranked the engine, his earlier joking set aside as professionalism took over. Captain buckled his seat belt as Steve flipped on the sirens. “Here we go.”

Jacob tugged on his Nomex hood, then grabbed the overhead bar as they squealed onto the street, lights flashing. He peered out the window as they accelerated around the curve. Man, he loved his job. Despite the politics, firefighting ran in his blood. Around him, the world continued to revolve as usual—drivers heading to various destinations, pedestrians strolling the sidewalks and enjoying the warm spring air and the aroma of flowers blooming on the landscaped street corners. But a few blocks away, someone’s world had gotten yanked off center.

And with God’s help, he would help make it right again.




Chapter Three


Thick clouds threatened to block the warm evening sun as Marissa exited the parking garage and strolled across the imitation cobblestoned street of the Boardwalk. Her high heel wobbled once, and she suddenly wished she’d worn flip-flops and jeans. Owen had been the one to choose the silky red top she paired with black dress pants—probably because he’d been racing his equally red fire truck around her closet floor at the time. Was the look too professional for the Boardwalk? The shade of red too loud for a date?

Not date—business outing, she corrected. In which case color shouldn’t matter. Too late now, anyway. She was already five minutes late after dropping Owen off at her neighbor’s.

Marissa paused by a cotton candy vendor and scanned the open pavilion of shops for Jacob, willing the nerves in her stomach to settle. Although she often met clients outside the office to discuss party plans, it was usually at their homes or for a casual lunch. Never had she met a single, attractive male—in the evening. Alone. Did it give the wrong impression?

A mild breeze cooled the perspiration on the back of Marissa’s neck and fluttered the hem of a child’s sundress as she ran past Marissa, clutching a tall cone of cotton candy. A teenage couple ambled by, holding hands, and a handsome man in a pale blue dress shirt leaned against the railing overlooking the colored water fountain a few yards to her left. He turned as if he felt Marissa’s scrutiny, and raised his arm with a smile.

Jacob. Marissa’s breath caught and she clutched the thin strap of her purse. He looked different than he had the other day, more distinguished—yet still borderline familiar somehow. Dark hair, almost touching his collar, set off his tanned, healthy complexion, and a hint of five o’clock stubble dotted his jaw. He’d been clean-shaven last time she saw him.

She couldn’t decide which look made him more handsome.

At least he’d dressed up a little, too, which eased her apprehension about her own attire. Marissa made her way toward Jacob, hoping her smile revealed professionalism and not lingering nerves. She really should get out more if a mere business meeting set her off like this.

“Hey, there.” Jacob’s gaze, seemingly electric against the blue of his shirt, drew her in as she joined him at the railing. A myriad of colored water sprayed cheerily into the air before them. If she didn’t know better, she would have found the setting more than a little romantic.

“Hi. Sorry I’m a little late. Owen couldn’t decide what he wanted to bring with him to the babysitter’s.” Marissa braced her weight against the railing. “I had to talk him out of taking every toy he owns.”

Jacob grinned. “If Owen is anything like my niece, I’d guess that wasn’t the first time you’ve had that conversation.”

“You’d guess right.” Marissa relaxed under his appreciative gaze. “My mom usually comes over to watch Owen on the rare occasions I need to go out, but she wasn’t available tonight. Nanas tend to have more patience with that sort of thing.”

“I know my parents spoil Olivia rotten. But she’s a good enough kid not to let it go to her head.” Jacob gestured to the row of shops to their right. “Shall we start with the plant nursery?”

“Sounds good.” Marissa’s spine tingled at the light pressure of Jacob’s guiding hand as they turned toward the garden store. She’d been around attractive men before, but something about Jacob felt different. Unnerving, and a little foreign—in a good way.

Maybe too good. He was, after all, her new client.

They walked side by side past the storefronts. Jacob paused in front of a toy store window and grinned. “I’ve always found it funny how kids seem to instantly know which family member they can wrap around their finger the tightest. With Olivia, that person is definitely her papa—my dad. Of course, he never minds.”

Marissa turned her lips up in a smile, but the motion felt forced. Hopefully Jacob wouldn’t notice. This wasn’t the time to get into a conversation about Owen’s lack of relationship with his own grandfather. But she couldn’t help the melancholy ache that spread across her chest. Memories of their argument from yesterday clouded her previously good mood. She pretended to study the collection of dolls on display until the heavy moment passed.

“You okay?” Jacob turned away from the window toward her, concern etched in his expression.

Marissa tried to brighten the plastic smile as they started walking again. “I’m fine. It’s that … Owen isn’t close to his grandparents. My mom, somewhat, but not my dad.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Which is partly my fault. I’m not close with my dad, either.” She looked away, sudden heat flooding her neck. Great, Marissa, why don’t you just plop your family issues right here on the cobblestones in front of him?

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Jacob hesitated before pulling open the door of the nursery. “Would you like to talk about it?”

Marissa shook her head abruptly. “No. Thanks, though. It’s not a big deal. I’d rather talk about the fundraiser.”

“If you’re sure.” Concern lingered in his expression as he pulled open the door.

It was sweet of him to care. But this wasn’t the time—and with him as her client, there would never be the right time. It simply wasn’t his business.

Even if the sympathy in his eyes made her want to spill the whole story.

Marissa took a deep breath and allowed the air-conditioning rushing through the open doorway to cool her flushed face. “Maybe this place will give us some ideas for what we’ll need to finish the festival. I’d really like to find a way to include the kids that attend.”

“This nursery is one of the best.” Jacob pointed to a row of plants lining the far wall. The large store, built onto the end of a row of shops, featured an open greenhouse area in the back that was crowded with a variety of bushes and flowers. “I often buy here for my clients.”

Marissa gently touched the red petals of a nearby Gerber daisy. “How long have you been in the yard service industry?”

Jacob squinted as if mentally calculating the total. “Off and on, about ten years now, I’d guess.”

“You must really like it.”

“It’s not bad. Hey, look!” Jacob fairly tugged Marissa to a display at the end of the next aisle. “Olivia loves these mini-cacti. We could have a table at the festival set up with individual cartons of dirt for kids to plant in. Some of these minis don’t have sharp needles. We could set an age limit for the table.”

“We could also set out gloves as a precaution. They are pretty cute.” Each tiny cactus had one or more equally small blooms in red, pink or yellow sprouting from the top of the plant. “I could see Owen liking something like this. He’s always digging in our flower beds with a spade.” She wrinkled her nose. “I say flower bed loosely. It’s seen better days.”

“Kids and dirt are usually a winning combo, regardless of how worthy the flower bed.” Jacob winked. “These are on sale, and I get a discount here. If you want, I can come back and buy a few flats of the cacti to store at my house.”

“That’d be great. I wouldn’t know what to do with them until the festival, otherwise.” Marissa stepped back as Jacob made arrangements with a salesman to reserve the cacti for pickup, then they headed back outside into the fading sunlight.

“That went well.” Jacob checked his watch. “Where to next?”

Marissa pointed down the row of shops. “We could check out the party supply store. It’s right around the corner.”

They headed in that direction. “Any suggestions for Olivia’s big day?” Marissa asked. As hectic as her schedule was, she was looking forward to helping make the birthday girl’s party a hit. Girl parties were usually more involved, but also more fun—probably because it gave Marissa a break from the constant little-boy-world of superheroes, worms and fire trucks in which she daily resided.

Jacob opened the door to the party store and motioned for Marissa to walk in first. “Olivia’s mom—Liz—suggested anything pink, frilly or princess. Pretty much everything I know nothing about.” He snorted. “If she wanted a superhero, however, I’d be her man.”

Marissa grabbed a shopping basket and led Jacob toward the far right section of the store where the girlier items were located. “Closet comic book fan, huh?”

He offered a guilty grin, pausing to examine a box full of old-fashioned Slinky toys. “It’s not that big a secret. My coworkers tease me all the time whenever a new superhero movie comes out.”

She could see that. After all, Jacob already possessed a superhero vibe, playing the role of rescuer to his brother’s family and even saving her from a lonely Friday night.

But his potential hero status had nothing to do with the party plans in question, and she’d only get in trouble following that line of thought. She led the way past the balloon counter. Interesting that he referred to his lawn service employees as coworkers. Such humility, if that’s what it was, would certainly be a refreshing attribute in a man. Not that it mattered—Jacob was her client.

So why was she constantly reminding herself of that fact?

She shook her head to clear it, trying to focus on their conversation instead of on her own wayward thoughts. “Hey, there’s nothing wrong with superheroes. Owen would attest to that.”

“I don’t think Olivia would agree. She’s easy to please, but evil villains and red capes at her party is pushing it.” He chuckled.

They rounded the corner and were suddenly surrounded by pink fluff. Jacob threw his arms up to shield his face in an exaggerated, dramatic duck. “Yikes, it’s the princess row.”

“Nothing on this aisle bites, I promise.” Marissa laughed, swatting his arm. “It’s the right decision, trust me. Girls Olivia’s age usually love a princess theme, and there are a ton of options for games and food. It’s a win-win.”

Jacob picked up a plastic jeweled tiara. “I guess you’re right. Every girl—or woman, for that matter—deserves to be a princess for a day.”

Their gazes collided and lingered before Marissa quickly looked away. Did she agree? Princess for a day—nice concept for a seven-year-old, not so realistic for a single mother. She lifted her chin, hoping to steer the conversation back on course and away from the heavy. “So, princess theme it is?”

“Princess theme it is.” Jacob picked up a sparkly fairy wand from a box on the shelf. “What about some of these?” He waved it through the air, sending a shower of glitter cascading to the floor. “On second thought, Liz might kill me—or even worse, make me vacuum after the party is over.”

Marissa took the wand and replaced it on the shelf. “I actually already have some less glittery versions of these in my leftover-prop box at the office, along with some other things the girls will like.” She smiled. “The biggest problem with this party is going to be narrowing down my list of ideas.”

“Good. I was hoping this would be easy, since I railroaded you into the short-notice favor.”

Marissa shook her head as she paused in front of a huge display of stickers. “No, trust me—you’re doing me the favor by letting me host the fundraiser on your land.” She tossed several packages of princess stickers into the basket she held. “Speaking of, we should probably plan a time for me to see your property. I need a visual of the layout so I can get things moving for the festival.”

“Good idea. Let me check my schedule.” Jacob pulled out his phone and clicked a few buttons. His eyes skimmed the contents. “How’s Monday around one-thirty?”

Marissa set the basket on the floor, then plucked her day planner from her purse. “Fine with me.” She made a quick notation. “That would give me plenty of time before I need to pick up Owen from school.”

Jacob gestured to the planner. “Does that thing travel everywhere with you?”

“Everywhere. It’s funny, I got used to carrying Owen’s diaper bag for so many years that when he got older, I kept feeling like I was forgetting something every time I left the house.” She tucked it back inside her purse. “This is my new security blanket.”

“Well, I just admitted I’m a comic fan, so your secret is safe with me.”

Safe. Now, there was a concept. Marissa risked a glance into his eyes, now a darker blue, as he picked up the basket from the floor and handed it to her. The teasing lilt had left his gaze, replaced with something deeper.

“I don’t want a train party! I want a zoo party!” A child in the next aisle screamed a tantrum, and Marissa jerked, losing the moment. Or had she only imagined the chemistry sizzling between them?

“At least she’s a young woman who knows what she wants.” Jacob nodded toward the commotion with a laugh. “Hey, how about feather boas?”

“Of course. Grab the purple ones, too.” Marissa sneaked a glance at Jacob’s profile as he draped the boas into the basket. There was something incredibly endearing about watching a grown man pick out and handle little-girl toys.

She wished she could recapture the moment they’d shared before the distraction from the next row shattered it with reality. But as the parent in the next aisle knew all too well, reality came with being a mom. There was a reason fairy tale princesses didn’t have children—it wasn’t always happily ever after and romance. Maybe the interruption had been for the best. Anything other than a business relationship would be a joke. Marissa was a mommy first and entrepreneur second, with little room for a third label.

Even if for the first time since Kevin’s death, she sort of wanted one.

The wind teased the edges of Marissa’s blond hair and blew several strands across her cheek as they ambled toward the parking garage. Jacob wished he could brush them back, but the night had gone so well, he wasn’t about to mess it up now with something that forward. The moon cut a path between the clouds, providing them with a momentary spotlight before they walked under the cover of the concrete garage.

After leaving the party store, they’d gotten burgers and ice cream cones and sat outside on a bench by the river to eat. In between bites, they talked about Owen, Marissa’s business, Jacob’s brother and family, and various plans for the upcoming festival. The more they talked, the better they connected, bouncing ideas off each other and feeding upon the other’s creativity. The longer he remained in Marissa’s presence, the more he felt like he’d known her forever.

“Where’d you park?” He scanned the almost empty bottom level of the garage, a reminder of how late the evening had gotten—and how quickly it had passed.

“I think … over there? My sense of direction isn’t the best.” Marissa pointed toward the back with a shrug. “It’s sort of a guessing game every time I leave a restaurant or the mall. Owen usually remembers better than I do.”

Jacob grinned. “Then let’s see how you did without him.” He led the way, unable to help but picture several more nights exactly like this one—maybe next time holding hands or bringing Owen along for a ride on the two-story carousal. If the kid was anything like his mother, he had to be one amazing little boy.

What would it be like to have a family of his own? Sure, there would be fights and tantrums, like the little girl displayed in the party store, but the good times would outweigh the bad. Hanging out with Ryan, Liz and Olivia reminded Jacob of his desire for his own family more and more lately—and everything about him and Marissa seemed to mesh. They had several things in common—their mutual love for kids, the outdoors and double-scoop ice cream cones—but enough differences between them to keep the conversation interesting. She was a great mom—that much was obvious in the way her eyes sparkled as she told stories of Owen’s antics—not to mention a confident businesswoman.

And there was no question she was beautiful.

They reached Marissa’s SUV, and Jacob paused beside it. “I almost didn’t recognize it without a flat tire.”

Marissa laughed as she stashed their shopping bags into the backseat. “Let’s hope that was a one-time thing.” She checked her watch and grimaced. “I better hurry. I told Owen’s babysitter I’d be back by nine.”

Jacob opened the driver’s door for her and grinned. “Mommy to the rescue.” He supposed dating Marissa—if she ever even agreed to a real date—would be like that. Owen came first, and he had absolutely no problem with the fact. He’d actually be upset if that wasn’t the case.

“Thanks for asking me here.” Marissa fumbled with her car keys. “I’m, uh—really looking forward to working with you.”

A truck rumbled down their row, and Jacob eased a step closer to be heard over the noise—or so he told himself. “So am I.” He held out his hand to assist her into the driver’s seat, and fought the urge to let his grip linger. Don’t rush it, his conscience whispered a warning, and he pulled free before his fingers refused to obey. But he couldn’t pass up the chance to ask Marissa out. Who knew when he’d get another one? He hesitated, then braced one arm against the door to keep it open. “Would you like to do this again sometime?”

“Shop and eat junk food?” A teasing spark lit her eyes, and he thought for the hundredth time how beautiful she was.

“If you want.” Jacob smiled back. “But I was thinking about something a little more official.” He swallowed. If he’d read her signals wrong and she said no, then he had just officially made their working relationship awkward. But he had to know.

Surprise lit Marissa’s deep green eyes, and he could almost read the conflicting emotions darting across her expression. Interest. Doubt. Regret. Which would win? He waited, a knot slowly forming in his stomach.

“That would be … nice.”

Jacob let out his breath, unable to decipher who was more surprised by her answer—him or her. But regardless, he’d take it.

“Great.” He lowered his arm as she inserted the key into the wheel, the ignition dinging. “We’ll talk about that soon.” Very soon.

“I’d like that.” They smiled, then Marissa broke the connection as she pulled on her seat belt. “If I haven’t said so yet, this is a great thing you’re doing for the families of the laid off firemen. They’re going to appreciate it a lot.”

“It’s nothing much. My brother deserves a break after the layoffs. I only wish I could do more.” He could never do enough to ease the guilt he felt, but he’d go down trying.

“Wait—the fire department layoff?” Marissa tilted her head to one side in surprise.

Jacob blinked. “I didn’t mention that before now? Ryan was one of the firemen let go. That’s why I’m helping out with Olivia’s party.”

“No, you never mentioned the specifics, just that he was suddenly unemployed. Wow, I’m sorry to hear that.” Admiration flickered in Marissa’s gaze. “But I’m sure your helping with the fundraiser will encourage your brother. Family support is so important.”

“I hope so. None of the guys deserved this.” Jacob’s stomach tightened. It had been like losing family after the first round of cuts. The worst part was that rumor had it the city council wasn’t done yet. But no need to stir up the bitterness when tonight had gone so well. Come to think of it, had he even mentioned he was a fireman? They’d talked about the party, the fundraiser and Owen and Olivia most of the night.

Marissa started the engine with a roar, interrupting his thoughts. “I wish everyone was as supportive of the fundraiser as you are—like my dad, for instance.” She raised her voice above the rumble.

He knew she needed to leave, but now he was confused. Why would her father not care about the affected firemen and their families? How could any civilian not care? Ever since the layoffs, the local newspapers had been flooded with letters to the editor about their concerns. He couldn’t imagine someone feeling the opposite. “What do you mean, your dad?”

She gripped the steering wheel with both hands. “Fire Chief Brady.”

Jacob’s heart slammed against his rib cage with a catastrophic jolt.

“He says it’s a conflict of interest for me to be involved, but I believe it’s the right thing to do. Not only for my business, but as a person. I just couldn’t turn down the church when they asked.” She kept talking but her words rushed straight over Jacob’s head and into the stifling air of the garage as he desperately tried to comprehend this new truth. Chief Brady. His boss. Marissa’s father. Marissa Brady Hawthorne.

“Oh, no, it’s nine o’clock now. I’ll see you Monday afternoon.” Marissa held up her hand in a quick wave. “Good night.”

“Good night.” The words croaked from Jacob’s tight throat as the SUV door slammed shut between them.

Then she was gone.




Chapter Four


Marissa punched the button in her SUV to open the garage door, her headlights piercing the late evening darkness and reminding her how badly she needed to power-wash the house. Usually such chores only served as a gateway into overwhelming reminders of how she didn’t have backup anymore—no man around to take out the trash or mow the yard, no husband to change burned out lightbulbs, check the oil in her car or get rid of scary bugs in the bathroom.

But tonight, for the first time in a while, the familiar cloak of regret didn’t settle itself around her shoulders. Instead, an image of Jacob chasing a fly around her living room flitted through her mind, and she shook her head with a grin. Not even one official date behind them, and already she fantasized about the poor man doing grunt work. But with the way he so easily fit into her imagination, it felt as if she’d already known him forever.

She sneaked a peek in her rearview mirror at Owen, sound asleep in the back. He’d had a fun night with his friend from school, and Mrs. Johnson hadn’t minded her being late at all. “You need to get out more, enjoy life.” The middle-aged woman’s soft voice prodded Marissa’s conscience as she helped buckle Owen into the backseat. “You’re a mom, Marissa, but you’re still a woman who deserves to have fun. I’m glad you seem to be remembering that again.”

Mrs. Johnson must have misunderstood, since the evening was simply a business meeting. But Jacob still provided Marissa with a much-needed reminder of how nice it was to be treated like a lady, not just a boss, a friend or a parent. The way he insisted on opening doors for her and letting her walk first, the way he’d looked into her eyes as if what she said really meant something, proved there were still bona fide gentlemen in Orchid Hill after all. He even listened to her talk about her business and Owen for a good portion of the evening as if there were nothing else he’d rather hear. It was a refreshing change.

One she could get used to.

Marissa inched her SUV into the dark garage and powered the door closed behind them. She twisted around in her seat, mouth open to wake Owen, but the words faded on her lips. Her son slept peacefully, one hand tucked under his cheek, a swatch of hair crowding his forehead and his other hand holding one end of the fire truck he’d been determined to take with him.

Moments like these were few and far between lately. “You’re growing up fast.” Her whisper, so soft she could barely hear it, lingered in the air between them like a benediction. One of the greatest tragedies of Kevin’s death was Owen losing a father figure. No one could ever replace Kevin in Owen’s life, but he needed a positive male influence. Unfortunately, it didn’t look as if Owen could get that from his grandfather, either.

Marissa smiled wistfully as Owen stirred into a more comfortable position. Maybe she’d been depriving Owen in the long run by devoting all her time to her business, trying to guarantee financial security instead of taking time to date and find her son a potential stepfather. Maybe it was hurting Owen that she avoided the social scene and rarely took time to fill her own emotional needs. But wasn’t that part of being a good mom?

Too heavy a topic to think about after such a wonderful evening.

Marissa climbed out and opened Owen’s door, unbuckled his seat belt and tried to remove the fire truck from his grip. At least tonight had been a distraction from the argument with her father at his office, and the anger she still felt simmering in her stomach whenever she thought of a busybody fireman trying to influence her son into a career she dreaded. The familiar wave of indignation washed over her at the memory, and she shook her head to clear it. No sense in ending the night with sour thoughts. Those issues would keep until tomorrow.

“Wake up, buddy.” She jostled Owen’s shoulder. He stirred again, but didn’t wake up. Marissa shook a little harder, wishing she was strong enough to carry him to bed like she did years before. Owen muttered in his sleep, then flung his arm sideways, clocking her in the side of the head with the fire truck.

Marissa jerked upright, biting back the frustration that rushed to her lips. She closed her eyes and rubbed the offended spot on her head as Owen let out a fresh snore.

She really didn’t like that truck.

Jacob loved fire trucks. Even on days like today when he was stuck washing them, he couldn’t help but admire what the trucks symbolized. Rescue. Redemption. This one vehicle could do everything from putting out a fire that threatened to consume someone’s life and belongings, to stretching a ladder into a tree to rescue a family pet. Of course, the latter was typically more annoying than the former, especially at 2:00 a.m., but he never tired of seeing a child’s face light up at the return of a furry friend.

Besides, focusing on how much he loved his job distracted him from the memory of Marissa’s smile.

Jacob dropped his sponge back into the bucket of sudsy water and reached for the garden hose. “Crank it,” he hollered from the driveway outside the bay to Steve. He waited for the water to gurgle, then aimed the green tube at the top of the truck. Water gushed out and Jacob wiped his sweating forehead with his shirtsleeve as he sprayed. Try as he might, he couldn’t erase the dreaded repeat of Marissa’s words at the end of last night. “My dad—Fire Chief Brady.” The simple sentence pulverized his brain until he could barely think straight. Of all the dads in all of the world, why did hers have to be his boss?

His boss, who not even a year ago made life so miserable for one of the men on Jacob’s shift, that the guy finally requested a transfer—all because of an overheard crude comment about his daughter. Chief Brady played by the rules of the union and their laws about seniority, but if he needed those rules bent for his own purposes, he wasn’t above stretching whatever lines he could—hence the reason his old coworker was now in Baton Rouge instead of Orchid Hill. No, offending Chief Brady wasn’t a good idea—and one of his firemen dating his only daughter was sure to be considered offensive, even if Jacob’s intentions were more honorable than his coworker’s lewd comment.

Well, make that former intentions.

Jacob leveled the hose at the truck tires, and mentally kicked himself for not connecting the dots sooner. He’d known the chief’s daughter’s name was Marissa, but since she obviously still went by her married last name, he had no reason to assume it was the same woman he’d taken out last night.

Disappointment sucker punched Jacob’s stomach like a heavy fist. How was he going to help plan Olivia’s birthday party and host the Fireman’s Festival with Marissa, knowing he could look but never touch? Last night in the parking garage, he’d asked Marissa on a real date. Now he was going to have to forego on his word, something he hated to do, all because the world was much, much too small.

Jacob drew a tight breath in an attempt to battle his frustration. “Okay, kill it.” He waited for Steve to shut off the water, but several moments passed and it continued to spew from the hose. “Steve! I said kill it.” If his coworker had gone back inside to catch the end of the soccer game on TV … Jacob’s frustration, combined with the heat of the sun beating down on his head and neck, boiled over and he stomped around the far end of the truck with the hose. “Steve! Where did—”

He stopped short, nearly running into a pair of shiny black boots and starched white dress shirt, as the water continued to pour.

Straight onto Fire Chief Brady.

Jacob watched any chances of pursuing Marissa’s heart drip off the top of Chief’s hat and onto his pressed pants. “Chief Brady, I am so sorry. I didn’t see you.” He opened his mouth to apologize further but clamped it shut as the chief removed his wet black sunglasses.

“I suppose that’s what I get for making a surprise visit.” He rubbed the lenses on his shirt, but they were so wet that it didn’t seem to help. He smiled, but in the afternoon sun it came across more as a grimace.

Jacob suddenly realized the hose was still gushing water, now down the driveway toward the street. He quickly dropped it and jogged to the faucet on the side of the brick station. With a quick yank, he stopped the flow. The sudden quiet seemed overwhelming. Chief pointedly cleared his throat.

“Let me get you a towel.” Jacob headed into the bay, mortification heating his neck hotter than the sunburn he could feel tingling the tips of his ears. A hand towel from the station kitchen wouldn’t do much good, but he couldn’t stand there staring at the chief’s undershirt beneath his uniform any longer.

He snagged a towel and brought it to the chief, who had followed him to the front door of the station. Steve jumped off the couch and shut off the soccer game with a quick click of the remote control. Jacob shot him a glare. He owed Jacob—kitchen duty for a month, at least. Though, come to think of it, that might be more a punishment on Jacob’s part.

Captain Walker breezed in from his office by the kitchen, did a double take at Chief Brady standing in the doorway patting his neck with a dish rag and raised his eyebrows at Jacob. Jacob shook his head.

“Afternoon, Chief. What brings you by?” Captain Walker extended one arm to offer the chief access inside, then hesitated at the puddle forming by the older man’s boots on the concrete walk.

Steve snorted back a laugh, and Jacob elbowed his ribs.

“Come on in. My boys will handle the mess, don’t worry.” Captain Walker gestured to the chief, confusion puzzling his brow.

“That’s all right. I need to get back and get a fresh uniform now.” Chief Brady handed over the wet towel. “I’m heading to each station to give notice in person that we’ve received more emails from locals upset about the layoffs.”

Jacob’s back stiffened and he shifted his weight, hoping to hide the obvious frustration welling in his chest. Did the chief know Jacob by his full name? Would he immediately connect the fact that his brother was one of the firefighters let go?

Or worse yet, that he had taken his daughter out to the Boardwalk last night? He swallowed.

“Threatening emails?” Captain Walker rested one hand against the door frame. “Or angry citizens blowing smoke?”

“Some of each. Let’s keep an eye out in case things get violent. If there’s any suspicious activity around the station, let me know immediately. One of our men’s personal vehicles at Station 3 was broken into last night, but Captain May seems to think it’s unrelated.”




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