Pin-Up Fireman. Vonnie Davis

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      “No.” He sighed. “Maybe. Was my night to cook and I burned the lasagna. We had a marine rescue earlier this afternoon, so I thought if turned the oven up to five hundred, supper would get done quicker.”

      She laughed. “Oh no. Who puts the oven up that high?”

      “A man whose hungry, that’s who. All it did was set off the smoke alarms and cause me to get my ass chewed out. I’m trying to figure how to get the scorched cheese and meat out of the pans. Hey, you don’t do dishes do you?” A tinge of his humor was in his voice. “Have you ever eaten lasagna with a fork in one hand and a chainsaw in another?”

      Once she stopped laughing, she made a suggestion. “Run a knife along the edge to get out what you can and then soak them in hot, soapy water for a while. I’m just calling to make sure the team will be there if I come by.”

      “As of now, we’re just cleaning equipment. Routine stuff. Come on over.”

      When she pulled into the parking lot of Fire and Marine Rescue Station Thirty-two, Wolf and a curvy redhead were sitting at a picnic table under a palm tree. A German shepherd sat on Wolf’s lap as if he hadn’t seen his master for weeks. Wolf waved her over as she pulled out a canvas bag of calendars and a portfolio of pictures.

      “Graci-Ella, come meet my wife, Becca. Don’t you think she glows with her pregnancy?” The man’s smile nearly split his face in two. He reached for his wife’s hand and kissed her knuckles.

      Becca pursed her lips and blushed. “I’m surprised you don’t make me wear a sandwich sign that reads, ‘This woman is pregnant!’ She stood and shook Graci-Ella’s hand. “Never mind him. He’s just happy we finally got it right. So, you’re the photographer everyone’s teasing Tiny about?”

      Something in the woman’s kind demeanor made Graci-Ella smile. “Yes, I’m the photographer, but why are folks ragging Tiny about me?”

      Becca leaned in. “Because he hasn’t dated since he was served with custody papers for his little boy. He’s trying so hard to be Mr. Perfect. You evidently rattled his celibacy cage when you showed up this morning.”

      Was that why he was so adamant about not being in the calendar? Did he think avoiding women would look favorable to the court? Was he divorced or still married? That would be the deciding factor, that and how often he left his son with a sitter overnight.

      The dog looked at Wolf as if he were insulted and whined. He licked Wolf’s chin, no doubt to remind him he was there.

      Wolf rubbed the canine’s head. “Sorry, buddy. Graci-Ella, this is Einstein. If you call him over, he’ll offer you his paw to shake. He’s the best dog in the world.”

      Einstein barked and jumped down. Graci-Ella called him over and he pranced around the end of the picnic table, his tongue lolling crooked from his mouth. He sat in front of her and held out his paw. She shook it gently. “My, aren’t you handsome? Do you have a leash along? I’ll walk you around the building.”

      Einstein romped to Becca and gently took a leash from her hand before giving it to Graci-Ella. “Does he enjoy running?” She petted Einstein as she clipped the leash onto his collar.

      “He loves a good run. Wolf won’t let me take him on runs anymore, just slow jogs.”

      Graci-Ella stood and rubbed the dog’s neck. “Einstein, sounds like we could both use some fast exercise. Two times around the building.”

      Wolf laughed. “If you sense twenty pair of male eyes on you, it’s not a phantom feeling.”

      Right, as if I haven’t had men watch me run before. She and Einstein took off.

       CHAPTER THREE

      Feet pounded past the opened kitchen windows while Boyd and Quinn were rinsing dishes and loading dishwashers. Boyd’s neck snapped a fast second glance, and he nearly got whiplash. He kept holding a plate under the water spray as he leaned toward the screen to watch Graci-Ella—her come-to-Jesus legs in navy shorts, full breasts in an apricot tank top and a long ponytail that swished back and forth with each stride. His heart pounded with every pace she made.

      Quinn jerked the plate from Boyd’s hand. “Man, I don’t know who’s breathing faster right now. Her running or you watching.”

      “Bite me.” Boyd leaned farther toward the window so he could keep his eyes on her after she passed by with Einstein. Quinn shifted behind him and shouldered Boyd’s ass until his knees were on the counter. “What the fuckin’ hell, Quinn?” A giggling shove and Boyd’s knees slipped into the double sink—one side full of hot soapy water soaking lasagna pans and the other with the faucet running cold water.

      Quinn, the bastard, was laughing and grabbing for the sprayer.

      “Oh no! Oh, hell no!” Boyd struggled for the sprayer, too, in an effort to avoid the shower he was about to get. In the scuffle, he slipped forward and banged his chin on the window sill, which gave Quinn enough time to gain control of the sprayer and douse him good with cold water.

      Boyd elbowed his co-worker, who lost his balance, slipped on the wet floor and ripped the sprayer’s hose from the faucet assembly. Water flew. Guys came running to see what all the commotion was about. Boyd didn’t doubt for a minute he made a fine sight with his ass in the air and his knees in the sink. He pushed off the window sill and flipped backwards, his sneakers skidding in two different directions until his back hit the floor.

      Quinn, bless his demented ass, laughed so loud it evidently drew the captain out of his office.

      “What in the God damn hell is going on? Someone turn off the water and fix the hose. One of you little boys better mop up the floor.” Captain Steele was known for having spic and span station and that included the kitchen.

      Quinn was known for his big mouth. “Hell, captain, I was only helping Tiny watch the photographer run by the building with Einstein.”

      Feet stampeded to the windows on the other side of the building. Whistles and crude remarks exploded from the gang at the other windows. Damn the rest of the guys for watching her run. They had no right to drool over her.

      Boyd was so pissed, he spun to head for the mop and bucket, shooting Quinn a glare as he stormed to where the cleaning supplies were stored. Never one to back down, Quinn grabbed Boyd’s bicep and leaned in. “If you want her, you better make it known.”

      “Oh, like you did with Cassie? You damn near drove her away. Besides, I’ve got that custody hearing…”

      Quinn’s voice softened. “Don’t pound the hell out of me for this, but I think you’ve got a worthless lawyer. He’s got you scared to do anything but work and take care of Matt. What do you do the weekends the kid’s with his mother? Do you party, date, bay at the moon? No.”

      “I get together with you guys when you have picnics or basketball games.”

      “You need to live, brother. An occasional date would not make you a bad parent. The hell with what that lawyer told СКАЧАТЬ