Aw, who was he kidding? He wasn’t going back to drop off the application as soon as possible, or so she could meet Archer. He was going back so he could see her.
* * * *
Katherine gathered up the graded quizzes and put them into her book bag. She hadn’t assigned enough homework last week. She’d finished grading, and the weekend wasn’t halfway over. What was she supposed to do with the rest of it? She grimaced. Maybe she should devote time to her bustling social life. Why, she had two books checked out of the library. That alone was a huge time commitment. She moved away from her desk and studied the room.
She’d lined the walls with shelves constructed of milk crates and boards. Most of the shelves bowed under the weight of books. Shortly after they bought the house, she’d talked to the school janitor about building real shelves, but Gary nixed the idea. He said he’d make them himself. He never had. Time ran out.
Katherine hung her book bag on the doorknob. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe the office did have bad memories. She wandered to her living room, trying to think of some way to waste the rest of the weekend. Her friends told her to move on. It had been four years. Get out and date. Have fun. Start over. The whole idea made her feel ill.
She’d never been outgoing, and the notion of hanging around a smoky bar trying to meet a nice, intelligent guy who wasn’t trying to get himself killed for a living didn’t sound like fun. She’d rather live alone. There had to be other ways to meet men who weren’t heroes, teachers or, heaven forbid, school janitors. Maybe one would move in downstairs.
Like the guy she’d shown the apartment to this morning. He seemed nice and looked even nicer. She could recall the clever glint in his eyes and the timbre of his voice. Wrapping her arms around herself, she remembered how it felt when he caught her after the door burst open. The way his arms supported her. If he brought back the application, she’d know about his job. And if he moved in right downstairs, something might happen.
A vehicle pulled into the driveway. Jack Conley’s truck. What was he doing back already? Was the apartment that much of a bargain, or was he desperate to move? He climbed out, pushing something back inside, and closed the door. Immediately, a dog’s head poked out of the open driver’s side window.
Archer. At least that’s what she thought the name was.
He was big and black. Exactly the kind of dog a guy like Jack would have. And exactly the kind she’d always wanted to play with and have patrolling the backyard.
The sharp knock at the door startled her, even though she'd expected it. Katherine took a deep breath. A gorgeous man with a great dog, and he wanted to rent her first floor so much he’d returned the application before the ink was dry. Perfect, right? There had to be a catch. This was her life. There was always a catch. She answered the door trying to appear calm.
“Hello.”
He stood holding the paperwork out. “I filled this out. I thought I’d see if you were home.”
Katherine took it without looking, her heart fighting up her throat. “Thank you. Is that your dog?”
Jack glanced at the truck. “That’s Archer. You want to meet him?”
“Sure.” Katherine tried not to sound eager, but failed.
Jack led the way down the steps. Archer’s face swiveled from one to the other, his long pink tongue lolling out of his mouth. Jack scratched his ears and the dog closed his eyes, leaning into Jack’s hand. “Archer, this is Ms. Pelham. Ms. Pelham, this is Archer.”
“Call me Katherine.” She clasped her hands behind her back, afraid of what they might do given the opportunity. He was wearing the blue fleece jacket again. She wanted to pet him as much as she wanted to pet his dog. Maybe more.
“Katherine.” He grinned, leaning against the side of the truck with his hands in his pockets. “You can pet him. He doesn’t bite.”
She reached out to the dog cautiously. She’d been bitten before, but this dog didn’t look as if he would. As the tips of her fingers touched his head, he twisted and licked her hand with his sloppy tongue.
“Oh, thanks.” She wiped her hand on her jeans before trying again. This time Archer allowed her to stroke the top of his head. His short fur felt smooth and slick under her fingers. “He’s very pretty. Did you say you just got him?”
“A friend of mine had a kid. They were afraid to have a big dog around a baby.”
Katherine rubbed Archer’s ears. “I’m sure he’d be fine. He looks so gentle. He’d be like Carl in the picture books.” As if to emphasize the point, Archer pressed his cheek against her hand and whimpered. Katherine laughed.
“My friend’s wife wasn’t so sure, so I said I’d take him. My landlord isn’t as happy about the arrangement. I have until the end of the month to get rid of Archer or find a new apartment.”
“So little time?”
Jack shrugged. “He doesn’t want the dog in the building.” He fished his keys out of his coat pocket. “Well, we shouldn’t keep you. You probably have Valentine’s plans.”
Katherine pursed her lips. “Not me.” Although walking up to the grocery store and buying a quart of ice cream for dinner sounded like a great idea.
“Really? I’m not doing anything either. You want to grab dinner? Nothing fancy, Wendy’s or something.”
“Are you serious?” Katherine warmed at the idea of seeing Jack again today. She didn’t know the appropriate words to describe how much she wanted to have dinner with him, fast food wrappers and all.
“Sure.” Jack shrugged. “Us singles should stick together.”
“I don’t know. We just met.” Katherine reined herself in. What was going on here? Did he want the place that much?
“I don’t bite, either. I can’t stand to see a beautiful woman alone on Valentine’s Day.” Jack glanced at his watch. “Listen, I have to take Archer to the park, but I’ll drop him home by about five and pick you up around six.”
Katherine looked up at him. His expression didn’t give her any real hints. This morning he hadn’t known she existed and now, based on two short conversations about an apartment, he was asking her to dinner. What if he didn’t need to move? What if he did think she was beautiful? And if he didn’t think she was beautiful and wanted the apartment, did it matter? She didn’t want to spend this holiday with Ben and Jerry’s again. She scratched behind Archer’s ear. “Okay. I’ll be ready at six. We’ll go Dutch.”
“Dutch? What does that mean? It’s not something rotten in the state of Denmark, is it?”
“Each pay our own way.” Katherine stifled the urge to giggle. He couldn’t possibly know a Shakespeare joke would win her over.
“If that’s what you want. I’ll see you then.”
Katherine stepped back so he could climb into his truck. While she waited, she skimmed his application. When she got to the employer line, air vanished from the atmosphere. “You work for the fire department?”
“Yeah.” He pulled the door closed. “I work up at nine.”
“You’re a fireman.” She said, hoping he wasn’t, but pretty sure it didn’t matter. He was one of the brotherhood. They were all heroes, or wanted to be.
“Firefighter,” he corrected.
“What?” She looked up from the traitorous application, blinking.
“Firefighter.” He smiled. “I’m not actually on fire, and I do my best to stay that way.”
“Oh. Firefighter. Right around the corner, you say.”
“Up on Garfield Street where Worcester dead ends.”
She nodded, but her head didn't feel attached to her neck. Naturally. The moment she saw him, she'd hit it in the head. The reason he looked as if he'd stepped out of an action adventure movie was because he had. His whole life was an action adventure movie. Cue soundtrack. Would this be the sweeping hero's theme or the ominous danger variation? Perhaps the comedy music. “I know where it is.” Drawing a deep breath, she pursed her lips. “Well, I guess I'll expect you at six.”
“I’ll be back at six. See ya then.”
“Yes.” She stepped back until her shoe bumped the bottom step. A firefighter. Even better than chasing armed bad guys, he ran into burning buildings. She must have a tattoo on her forehead, Heroes Only—normal guys need not apply. Wasn’t there one normal, intelligent guy in the entire city who would cross her path long enough to make an impression? Jack backed his truck down the driveway, pausing at the bottom long enough to wave before driving off. Katherine waved back. A firefighter. They were probably worse than cops.
Still, he might be a good tenant. He made enough money, judging by Gary’s city salary. If he was noisy, he’d be at work for long shifts. And he had a great dog. Who said they couldn’t be friends? Maybe he had friends who weren’t firemen—firefighters.
Katherine snorted at the likelihood and turned back to the house. At least now she knew what the catch was.
* * * *
“What just happened?” Jack asked Archer.
Archer looked at him.
“One minute she’s all for going out with me and the next, Wham! She’s gone. I thought she’d walked back into the house and left her body behind.”
Archer snuffled.
“I like her, buddy.” Jack chewed his lip. “I wonder if she’s always stiff or if it’s nerves. She's too cute to be snooty.”
Archer looked out the passenger window.
“Some help you are.” Jack sighed. “Well, she liked you. She said you were pretty. What do you think about being pretty?”
Archer ignored him, demonstrating his entire opinion of his prettiness.
“Maybe if she likes you enough, she’ll give me a chance, too. What do you think?”
Archer stood up on the seat still looking out the passenger window, offering Jack a view of his docked tail.
“Thanks a lot, pal.” Jack patted the dog. She’d been adorably pleased to see Archer, but a little suspicious of his dinner invitation. He knew he’d rushed it, but the delighted flush on her cheeks was worth the risk, and she’d agreed. He’d have to remember the word she used. Dutch. He might get another blush if he worked it into conversation.
Then, she’d looked at the application, and her eyes went big as saucers. What had she seen?
He had one whole dinner to figure it out. After that, he might never see her again. Providing she didn’t call off the dinner.
Now he wasn’t sure which he wanted more, the woman or the apartment.
Chapter 2
“So, do you think I should go to dinner with him?” Katherine twisted her office chair back and forth. She could picture her friend Pam leaning on her kitchen counter, arms folded with the phone wedged between her ear and her shoulder, puzzling out Katherine's question. Katherine had decided a long time ago that she trusted Pam’s judgment so much because they were so different. Pam was as opposite as possible without being a man, and if she came to the same conclusion, then it was probably correct.
“Wait a minute, I thought you were about to rent the downstairs to him. Why wouldn’t you go to dinner with him? Honey, don’t do that.” Pam scolded one of her kids. “In a minute. I’m on the phone. Did you call his references?”
“Well, yes. I called his landlord. He’s been living in the same place for seven years. Always on time with the rent. Quiet, polite. No damage the landlord knows about. Usually fixes things himself when they break. The way the guy moaned about losing him, I wondered why he didn’t change his rule on pets.” Katherine tangled the phone cord around her finger.
“Did you ask?”
Katherine heard banging on the other end of the line. “Yes, he said if he bent the rule for one, he’d have to bend it for everybody.”
“Then there’s your answer. This Jack is obviously a good tenant. You said your instincts were for him. Honey, stop that!”
The banging stopped.
“He seemed like a really nice guy. And he said he works at the fire station right around the corner.”
“Really? Right around the corner? He sounds like a great catch. For a tenant.”
“I can’t go through another Gary.” Katherine's jaw tightened at the thought of living that life again. Lonely and anxious when he was on duty and lonely when he wasn’t. No, she couldn’t go through another Gary.
“So don’t. Listen, you’re renting an apartment to this guy, not marrying him. A little perspective, huh?”
“But should I have dinner with him?”
“You’re going Dutch treat, right? It’s dinner with a friend. A new friend. Honestly Katherine, you need to get out some. Meet new people. Going out for fast food doesn’t mean you’re committed to marry him or sleep with him, or even kiss him goodnight for that matter.”
“I don’t want to lead him on.”
“You’re not. Friends go out to dinner all the time. You’d go out to dinner with me once in a while if I didn’t have the rugrats to deal with. Take it easy and enjoy being single. You got engaged out of high school. Be free for a while. Gary’s been gone for a long time. You’ve got to let him go.”
“It’s not that. I mean, he's gone and nothing’s going to bring him back. I know that. It’s not Gary at all. I don’t feel strange about going out to dinner with a man. I feel strange having dinner with this man.”
“Strange like your intuition is trying to tell you something, or strange like you've lost all your one-on-one social skills?”
Katherine thought for a minute. For no apparent reason, she’d trusted Jack immediately after she’d gotten past being alone with him in the house. And she’d thought about that, too. When the door clicked closed behind him, she hadn’t been afraid of what he would do. She’d been more afraid of what she might do.
“I don’t think he's an ax murderer if that’s what you mean.”
“Okay. Just remember that this guy is a tenant, not a roommate. Get me?”
“I get you.” Katherine bit her lip. She didn’t want to get Pam, but she did.
“I gotta go before the kids tear the place apart. Are you going to give him the keys?”
“I want to call his employer first. The book said to check all references.”
“Okay, you do what the book says and call me tomorrow. I want to know what happens tonight. Bye.”
“Good-bye.” Katherine hung up the phone and finished the game of solitaire she had on her desk. She wasn’t sure she’d gotten what she wanted out of Pam. She’d called her brash friend hoping for some kind of set answer, not a ‘see what happens.’ But then earlier, when she’d called his landlord, she’d hoped to find out he always paid his rent late and trashed the place. And before calling Pam, she’d called all his personal references hoping for something she could use for a reason to keep him out of the apartment. He acted rashly, took chances, didn’t keep house well, something. Instead the first one, Kevin Marshall, had said he was solid and reliable and he knew how to do plumbing. The second had been an old lady whose plants he cared for when she went to Florida to visit her niece. She claimed her plants were healthier when she returned than they had been when she left. The last one had been Archer’s former owner who assured her Archer was well behaved, except for a tendency to tear up newspapers, and a good watch dog.
They should have been things she wanted to hear. So why was she looking for reasons not to rent to him, and even better, not go to dinner with him?
He was too good to be true. Just because he had friends who would vouch for him, and a landlord bemoaning his fate at losing him, did not change the fact that he was a glory hounding firefighter bound to get himself killed and leave her alone again. But that shouldn’t matter because he would just be a tenant, right? If something happened to him it would be sad, but not the end of the world. She’d just have to find a new tenant.
Katherine swept the cards together and rubber banded them together before dropping them into their place in her desk drawer. If she was going to dinner with a friend, she should get dressed.
She went into her bedroom and looked over her closet. Her clothing choices wen
t straight from school clothes to weekend sweats with no lengthy stops in between. Her school wardrobe would be too dressy for fast food, even on Valentine’s Day. What would Jack think if she turned up in a dress for this not-date? She hadn’t bothered to keep a decent casual wardrobe since Gary died. As things wore out, she got rid of them. It didn’t seem important when she never went out.
In the end, she chose a black chenille turtleneck and the least worn jeans she owned. This was as dressed up as she was willing to get for fast food. Running a comb through her hair, she cast a longing glance at her makeup. No, no makeup. Not for a non-date with a potential tenant. Even though the magazine she'd just gotten out of the library claimed that a little definition to her eyes would change her whole look. She reached for the eye liner.
At that moment she heard a knock at the door. Katherine glanced at the clock beside the bed. He was prompt, too. She picked up her purse and coat and headed down the stairs.
“Hey! We match.” Jack announced as soon as she opened the door.
The soft navy jacket was back over a pair of excellently fitted black jeans. The V of the jacket revealed the round neck of a gray knit shirt, making her wonder how much time he'd spent on his wardrobe. Shrugging into her black wool coat, she said, “It must be the season. I bring out the black in my wardrobe.”
“Here, I’ll get the door.” He hurried to the passenger side of the truck while she locked up the house. “So where do you want to go? We’ve got every fast food joint known to man within fifteen minutes of here.”
“Wendy’s is fine with me.” Katherine climbed in. The truck smelled Armor All clean and the dashboard gleamed in the cab light. She didn’t even see dog hair on the seat. Did it always smell that way, or had he taken the time to clean it out? And if he had, what did that mean? That she probably should have put on eyeliner.
“East or west?” He closed the door and spoke through the open window.
Three Alarm Tenant Page 2
