Not every guy would take on the responsibility of a younger brother, make the kid his priority. Not every guy would take on a job he detested because it kept the roof over his and his brother’s heads. And the way his eyes lit up when he talked about the fire academy, the guys he was getting to know, how he liked Hop. She smiled in the darkness. They had that in common. They both liked Hop.
Above her head she heard Shane’s footfalls on the hardwood in the loft. It was impossible to not picture him up there, maybe stripped down to boxers. She remembered what he said about Dana only because she had asked him outright. He’d told her he and Dana dated for about six months, and in the beginning their relationship was fun, exciting. She knew lots of people and lots of places to go, and it had felt like a whirlwind. The truth now, he’d said, was their long-range plans didn’t seem to mesh. He’d shrugged, and she hadn’t pressed him further. She hadn’t wanted to know anything else about Dana.
Finally, thankfully, tiredness swept clear her crowded thoughts, and she fell asleep.
****
It had been a restless night, and this morning Shane ordered his coffee black at the local shop. He got a cup for Hop and drove over to the firehouse, where he knew the captain would be on duty.
Hop’s office was on the third floor of the old brick building. On his way up the staircase, he stopped off on the second floor where a large, open, multipurpose space stood quiet now. The room was used for meetings and social gatherings, and just off the space was the big, industrial-looking kitchen where, according to Hop, magical meals happened.
He peeked into the kitchen. Two firemen were unloading groceries and supplies from cardboard boxes.
“Hey, NG.”
Shane came closer. He didn’t know these guys by name yet, but he’d seen them during a drill or some other activity. He didn’t know how to respond because N and G were not his initials.
“Don’t mind him,” the other fireman said. He was a short, stocky man with spiky, black hair and a smirk of a smile. “Hi, I’m Larry. This is Dennis. In case you didn’t know, NG stands for new guy.”
“Oh.” Shane laughed. “I get it.”
“You here to see the captain?”
“Yes. Is he up in his office?”
The one named Larry nodded. “If you’re still around at lunchtime, come have some lunch. We’re making subs.”
He thanked them for the invitation before he climbed up the flight of stairs to the third floor. Hop’s office door was open, and Shane peered in. “Hey, Hop.”
The captain looked up from his computer screen. “Good thing you showed up, Irish. I was about to throw this damn thing out the window.”
Placing the two cardboard coffee cups on Hop’s desk, he came around to look at what was going on with his computer. The system was performing an update.
“I have no patience for this stuff.” Hop pointed to the coffee cups. “Which one is mine?”
Shane sat in a chair. He wasn’t even sure why he was here, but somehow he wanted to see a friendly face. Last night had been interesting, and he’d found himself unable to get comfortable in his new space in the loft of Kit’s house.
The time they spent together on the deck had given him insight on who this Kit woman was, what made her tick, where she came from, even if it was a study session so they could effectively pull the wool over her family’s eyes on Saturday.
“What’s on your mind, Irish?”
He shrugged. He didn’t know where to begin. Did he want advice? Did he want to spill his guts on what he was about to portray with his new landlord? No. He’d promised he wouldn’t tell anyone.
“Everything okay in your new digs?” Hop’s brow pinched.
“Yes, sure, it’s great. Kit wrote out a temporary lease agreement, and we’re going to the bank and have it notarized. The arrangement’s, uh, just what I needed. Thank you for helping make this happen.”
“Look, I brought you two together to solve each of your problems. Call me Mr. Fix-It.” Hop pushed up from his chair. “I’m done with this stupid computer for today. Slow as molasses. How do you rely on one of these machines to keep you in touch with your girlfriend? That’s got to drive you batty.”
He blew out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “I’m starting to think maybe it is a lot to try and hold on to a connection when one person is here and the other is in Europe. But to tell you the truth, Hop, it could be more that’s wrong with me and the girl.”
“I’ll tell you one thing, Irish. No job would have convinced me to move my ass clear across the world from my Ellie. And you know what? I’d swim the distance today if I thought she was there alive and waiting for me.”
He’d known Hop loved his wife, but his open sentimentality surprised him. Being a widower for a long time, Hop obviously longed for the woman he’d lost.
Shane’s heart tugged. Did love like that exist nowadays?
Maybe. It was hard to fathom when the woman he was supposed to be involved with became more and more distant as the days and weeks went by. And the evidence in her hotel room gave him reason to wonder if there was someone else.
If it were true, he wasn’t sure how he even felt about that. His thoughts were a jumble. What did not help one bit was his agreeing to the deal he’d made with Kit. He was actually practicing how to be someone’s pretend boyfriend. He was love’s worst enemy.
“Come on, Irish. Let’s go down to the kitchen and see what those guys are doing about lunch.”
Chapter Twelve
Kit pulled Hop’s uniform’s double-breasted jacket from the back seat of her car. He had an important meeting coming up, and the brass buttons had needed securing, especially the ones that fastened over his belly. She’d keep that to herself.
She went in through the side door and took the steps to the second floor. Passing the kitchen, she paused in the doorway. Hop and Shane sat on tall wooden stools at the large worktable, and two other guys were with them. Each man chomped on a sandwich the size of a football.
“There she is.” Hop wiped his hands on a napkin. “You hungry?”
She went into the room. A short guy with black hair gelled up in points picked up a brown paper bag. “We’ve got more rolls if you’re interested in a sandwich. I make my own dressing.”
“Thank you, but I’m good.”
“I’m Larry. This is Dennis, and you know Hop, and this is—”
Shane stopped him. “Kit and I already know each other.”
Larry’s brows rose. “You do?”
“She’s my landlord. Temporary landlord until my apartment’s ready. Remember I was telling you about that?”
“Ah,” Larry said. “Good to meet you. It’s Kit?”
“Yes,” she said. “Nice to see you guys. Hop, I’ve got your jacket ready.” She lifted the garment covered in a plastic bag by the hook of the hanger. “Good as new.”
“You’re too good to me, kid.”
“Don’t I know it.” She reached over and plucked a potato chip from his paper plate.
He playfully swatted at her hand. “Come on.” He scrambled off the stool. “Go with me to my office. I want to talk with you about something.”
She caught Shane’s eye, and a rush of heat climbed her face. He had such expressive eyes, and it amazed her that after only knowing him for a short while, she was starting to read him. Right now he looked about as awkward as she felt.
“Bye, guys.” Painting on a smile, she avoided looking at Shane.
****
Up in Hop’s office, she sat in the guest chair. She snickered when he went around the side of his desk and gave his laptop a disgruntled shove.
“Hate that thing.” He wrestled the suit jacket from the bag and slipped it off the hanger. He shrugged into it and buttoned the buttons.
“How do I look?”
“Like a movie star.”
“I do, don’t I?” He touched a finger to each button. “You did good, kid.”
“I aim to pleas
e.”
He took off the coat and put it back on its hanger, then hooked it over the top of his door. “Seriously, thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“So how’s it going with your new tenant?” He plopped down into his chair. “I can’t tell you what a lifesaver you are for him. I know you did this for me, though, so I appreciate it.”
She didn’t like deceiving this man who tended to slay her dragons on a regular basis. She caught herself grimacing. “Hop, there’s something I should tell you about that.”
“Oh jeez. Already?”
“Hear me out, please, and don’t lecture me either.”
“This ought to be good.” He clasped his hands behind his head. “Okay, lay it on me.”
“First off, my mother’s coming home from her cruise.”
“Whoop-dee-do.”
He liked her mother about as much as she liked him. Now was not the time to debate their mutual disdain.
“And as you know, my cousin is getting married soon.”
“Yes, to the putz that used to be your boyfriend.”
“And she’s asked me to do the alterations of my grandmother’s wedding gown for her.”
“How nice of her. How about a pint of blood to go with it?”
She couldn’t help it. Despite her nerves, she laughed, then quickly cleared her throat. “So here’s what happened. Shane came to my job to talk with me about the possibility of moving in. My cousin was there with my aunt and the dress and overheard the conversation between Shane and me. They came to the wrong conclusion that he and I were moving in together because we are a couple.” She used air quotes for that last word.
“Oh brother. This can’t be good.”
“Well, I made a split-second decision to let the two of them and eventually everyone else in my family think it’s the truth. And, um, he agreed to go along with the phony story, and that’s why I rented him the loft.”
Hop scratched at his bald head. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“I’m telling you this for two reasons. I’m not fond of fibbing to you, and in case you come in contact with my mom or anyone else in my family, I’m going to need you to play along.”
He studied her face. “This could blow up in your face, kid. Are you aware of that?”
“It’s only for a little while.”
He shook his head. “A lot can happen in a little while. But I’ll play your silly game.” A smirk claimed his mouth. “Anything to show up that rotten cousin of yours.”
She bit the inside of her mouth to banish the emotion that swelled in her. “Thanks, Hop.”
“Hey, what’s that old saying? ‘All the world’s a stage.’ Right?” He scratched at his head again. “Let’s hope it goes like you want it to.”
Yes. Let’s hope.
Chapter Thirteen
With their busy schedules, Kit and Shane’s paths crisscrossed over the next two days. Relief washed over her when she’d come home and discover he wasn’t there. His presence made her think until her head hurt. She focused on having to get through the dinner at Aunt Dee Dee’s house. And in a blink, Saturday sneaked up on her like a thief.
A surreal calm blanketed her as she stared into her open closet. She perused the garments, the favorites she wore for fancier occasions. Since Christmas Eve’s incident, sugar had been her drug of choice, and some of the dresses didn’t fit her at the moment. But they would someday.
At the back of the closet were the impulse buys that had been one-hit wonders or hadn’t even lost their tags. What had she been thinking buying floral palazzo pants? She shoved the hanger back even farther in the closet.
Her hand instinctively went to the navy shirtwaist, a comfortable, nice, and loose staple designed to hide a multitude of sins like paneling put up to remedy bumpy old walls. She stared at the garment. Would she ever break away from the nondescript? As she was about to unhook the hanger from the wooden dowel, her eye caught the tomato-red number all the way at the back of the row of dresses. She’d bought the dress on sale at the mall, had promised herself she would become the kind of person who was comfortable in a red, slim-fit dress.
She withdrew the sheath and before overthinking it, pulled down the zipper and slipped the dress over her head. The zipper resisted when she tugged it up, but all in all, somehow the dress fit, and mostly she was able to breathe in it. She slipped her feet into the nude-toned, heeled sandals and stepped in front of the full-length mirror behind her bedroom door. Not bad. She had to admit it. She took in views from each side. Did she want to make a statement like this when she arrived at the dinner party? Wouldn’t it be better to blend into the woodwork, go unnoticed at her aunt’s fussy soirée?
She tilted her head and studied the image in the glass. She decided she felt like Scarlett in her red dress when a widow’s propriety called for head-to-toe black. Miss O’Hara hadn’t wanted the label of being the woman left alone without a man. A thump of daring quickened her heart. Could she do it? Yup.
Shane waited for her in the living room. He stood by the fireplace, looking at the lineup of framed photographs on the mantel. Despite her resolve to stop noticing his appeal, Shane Dugan quickened her heartbeats. He wore black trousers and a pinstriped dress shirt open at the collar. He lifted his gaze to meet hers, and a grin broke across his face and traveled up to his eyes, making them sparkle like jewels. Lordy.
“You look nice.” His gaze held hers.
She swallowed hard. “Back at you, Irish.”
He pointed a thumb at the rest of the photos on display. “Are any of these memories something I should know about?”
“No, not for today anyway. Why? Are you getting worried?” Panic was quick to pinch her gut.
He blew out a lungful of air. “I’ve never done anything like this.”
“I know. Me neither.”
“I’m kind of concerned about being separated from you and feeling cornered in a conversation.” He uttered a nervous-sounding chuckle. “Maybe we should come up with a rescue phrase in case one of us gets stuck.”
She mulled the suggestion. “That’s a great idea. See, Fireman, you were born to rescue.”
“It’s got to be something that triggers us. Like an SOS.”
“Okay,” she said. “Let me think. An SOS.”
He snapped his fingers. “I know. If I feel like a conversation is getting sticky, I’ll say ‘Hey, honey, let’s share our surprise.’ ”
“Yeah, I get it, but then we need a surprise to share. We don’t need to make things more complicated than they already are.”
“How about we say ‘Hey, what time is your appointment tomorrow?’ ”
“That could work,” she said. “Let’s just hope we won’t need it.”
****
They took Shane’s truck for the drive to Aunt Dee Dee’s. Kit was anxious to see her mother, who would be arriving by driver from the airport. Her stomach was like a blender whipping up a smoothie when she thought about her mom with her sharp eye and keen intuition.
As far as the other guests were concerned, Kit didn’t know who else would be at the party, but she wasn’t worried about fooling anyone as much as she was concerned about Mom. Aunt Dee Dee would be immersed in her hostess role, one she was born to perform, and Co-Co was notoriously so self-absorbed she wouldn’t be a threat to their ruse. And Brian. Lordy. This would be the first time she’d be in the same room with him since The Incident. Oh, to blow off the event and go in search of a good chili dog.
“Okay.” Shane cast her a glance. “One more time. Your middle name is Taylor, named after your paternal grandfather, you broke your arm in the fourth grade when you fell off the monkey bars, you never needed braces, your mom is Regina, and your aunt is Dee Dee, short for Deirdre. I know who Co-Co is, can’t wait to see what this Brian looks like, and the rest of the people I’ll just have to wing it as I go.”
An easy chuckle escaped her lips. “You go to the head of the class. How about the story on how we
met? Have we got that down?”
“Yes. We met at Jabberwocky’s one night while you were waiting for your friend Rylee. I bought you a glass of chardonnay.”
“Zinfandel, but yes, and I gave you my number, and our first date was dinner downtown at the Admiral Inn.”
“I’m glad we kept it simple. I think we’ve got it, Kit.”
She liked his smile and the way he said her name. As much as she’d promised herself not to keep noticing this fireman’s appeal, nothing about her would cooperate. Her eyeballs liked the candy that he was. Her senses enjoyed his piney, manly man scent. She stole a glance as he kept his eyes on the road. Everyone would think she’d done well. A brick sat in her belly, though. This was not her man. She detested being a fraud.
“Turn here,” she said as they approached Aunt Dee Dee’s street. “And then it’s the third house on the right.”
“Wow. Lots of cars.”
“Yes. And what timing.” Her words escaped on a shaky breath. “That’s my mother getting out of that gray sedan.”
Shane shot her a smile. “You okay?”
“Hope so.”
He flashed a reassuring grin. “We’ve got this.”
“I’m glad you’re so sure.”
“Remember. SOS, if we need it.”
He winked. She swallowed with a throat so parched it felt as if she were attempting to gulp down razor blades.
Chapter Fourteen
“My darling.” Regina Baxter, arms spread wide, was flanked by a pearl-gray suitcase and matching carry-on at her feet. “Hello, hello,” she chimed in that Oprah-style climb of intonation.
Kit and Shane walked together toward Mom, and with each step her heart gave a little pop, as if corn kernels were exploding in her chest.
Regina embraced her daughter, crushing her against an ample chest. “My baby,” she said into Kit’s hair. She pushed Kit away to give herself enough room to assess. “You look wonderful, baby. Healthy.” She turned her attention to Shane, who stood by silently, his hands clasped behind his back. “Well, well,” Mom said with an appreciative eye. “Hello there. You must be the new man.”
Mr. Maybe Page 8
