by Lisa Lace
I placed the letter in my purse and stepped out of the post office. I began to head up the main street to Carla’s coffee shop. She had knocked on my apartment door the night before and told me to stop by if I was in town today.
Carla’s shop was a cute little place nestled between a shoe store and a nail salon. It had a large sign in cursive out front. The store had a simple name: Carla’s Coffee. The inside was light and airy, with wood floors and five little square tables, bare except for a small vase of brightly colored fresh flowers on each one. There was a counter displaying all the baked goods and signs hanging behind listing all the different kinds of drinks.
I noticed the front of the store was made up of large windows overlooking the fire station.
I headed for the counter, where a young girl was serving, and was about to order when I heard Carla call my name.
“Jenna! Put your money away, girl. For you, it’s on the house.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“How much are you planning to eat? A piece of cake and a latte won’t run us into the ground.”
Carla was wearing a red loose cotton blouse and a long, patterned skirt that reached the floor so that you couldn’t see her feet moving when she walked. It gave her the appearance of gliding across the room to sit with me at one of the two tables closest to the window. She called out to her assistant to bring over two lattes and two slices of cake and looked at me eagerly with a broad smile. She reached over the table and gave my wrist a quick, excitable squeeze like we’d been best friends forever.
“Tell me how you’re settling in.”
“Fine, I guess.”
“All unpacked?”
“There wasn’t much to unpack!”
“Have you got everything you need?”
“Just about. Some furniture arrived this morning. I’ve got a great new sofa. My bed was delivered too. I’ve spent most of the morning ordering new stuff online.”
“On top of things, then. When do you start work?”
“Tomorrow.”
Carla’s assistant arrived with a tray of coffee and cake and laid it down on the table. Carla thanked her with a smile before turning back to me. “Are you ready?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess. It’s been a while since I started somewhere new.”
“What were you doing before you came here?”
“Working retail.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yup. In a grocery store. I had to put my studies on hold so I could earn some extra income.”
“Retail is the worst, unless you own the place, of course!” Carla let out a light laugh and cut into her cake with a fork. “I worked retail for years before I started this place. My grandpa passed away and left me some money. I could never have dreamed about owning a shop without that help. God bless my Pops.”
“It’s a great place!”
“Thanks! My mother always said you can’t gossip for a living. I proved her wrong. Speaking of which, take a look out the window. The boys have arrived.”
I turned to follow her gaze to the engine bay of the fire station across the street. The roller was up, and the crew had just arrived to work on the engines. There were three of them.
The first was a man in his forties with dark hair starting to gray. He was short and walked with a bit of a swagger. The second was a younger man, closer to my age. He had blonde hair so long that he had to sweep it back off his face every now and then as he worked. Finally, there was a dark-haired firefighter who must have been in his early thirties. He had mid-length dark hair with just a slight curl to it, a chiseled jaw and ripped muscles so toned I could see the definition from across the street. I felt my heart skip a beat at the sight of a man who was pure, physical perfection.
I only realized I was biting down on my lip when Carla laughed and said, “My thoughts precisely.” Her eyes were positively glistening with glee. “Let me dish. See that older one? That’s Lewis Edlin. He’s married and has two sons. He doesn’t socialize much with the crew on account of being older and a real family man. When it’s time to clock out, he’s gone.”
She flicked her gaze to the next firefighter and lifted her finger in the direction of the blonde. “The next one’s Sam Mayden. He’s my man.”
I craned my neck to get a better look. Sam was handsome, too, but in a boyish way. He was grinning at something Lewis had said, and it made him look years younger, like a schoolboy playing a prank. He was well-toned and strong.
“Isn’t he gorgeous?” Carla beamed. “At first I wasn’t sure he was my type. I usually go for tall, dark and handsome, but there’s just something about Sam… He’s so sweet. A real romantic. You wouldn’t think that someone with a body like that would be the sensitive type, would you? But my God, he’s like a little puppy dog.”
Sam must have felt Carla watching him because he looked up at us and grinned widely. Carla smiled back, giving him a little wave before blowing him a kiss. Sam pretended to catch it and blew one back.
“See what I mean? He’s a total sweetheart.”
My eyes wandered to the last firefighter who hadn’t been profiled. My God, he was sexy. He was probably the most delicious damn man I’d ever laid eyes on. He was washing down the engine and with every sweep of his arm, I could see his biceps rippling. He was wearing a white T-shirt, and I could imagine the six-pack underneath the cotton. He turned to see what Sam was looking at, and I got a better glimpse at his face as he turned our way. Each feature was chiseled to perfection. He had a strong, defined jaw. When he spotted Carla, his lips curved into a smile and revealed perfect, straight teeth.
I quickly looked away and hid my face with my hand. I felt shy all of a sudden, and guilty for looking at a man and letting my heart race when I was supposed to be done with them. I cleared my throat, feeling my cheeks flush.
Carla laughed. “I see you’re experiencing the Nate effect.”
“What’s that?”
“Weak knees, racing heart? They’re all symptoms of Nate Blaze.”
“That’s his name? You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Nope. That man was born to fight fires and wear a tight T-shirt. He must be the poster-boy for hot firemen. Am I right?”
“He is good looking.”
“Didn’t I tell you? I knew you’d change your mind when you saw him.”
“Change my mind on what?”
“Setting you guys up!”
I laughed and waved away the offer, tucking my hair behind my ear and looking down into my empty coffee cup. “No. I’m still not interested.”
“What! What kind of single, hot-blooded woman doesn’t want a piece of that?”
“The kind who’s starting a new job tomorrow and has more to worry about than getting a hot date.” Still, my eyes couldn’t help but stay fixed on Nate. I was biting my lip again. I let out a long breath and cleared my throat once more. “It’s not the right time.”
Carla rolled her eyes and sighed. “It’s a shame. I think you two would be great together. Nate’s been alone for so long. Having a woman in his life again would do him a world of good.”
“I can’t believe that a man who looks like that is single. What’s the catch?”
I wasn’t sure what I’d said wrong, but I felt like I’d put my foot in it somehow when I saw Carla’s smile fade, and she cast Nate a look that was more sorrowful than hungry. “There’s nothing wrong with him. It’s a depressing story, actually. He was married.”
“He was?”
“Yes. Her name was Marie. He adored her.”
“They divorced?”
“No. She died.”
I gasped, and a hand flew to my mouth. I looked over at Nate again and felt my heart well up with pity for him. He was so young to be a widower. “That’s awful.”
“Tell me about it. They have a daughter together, too.”
“No!”
“Yeah. Four years old. She’s a darling little girl.”
“Don�
�t make me cry. How terrible. Nobody should have to go through that.”
Carla sat back in her chair and flipped her hair back out of her face. She looked reflectively at Nate. “He used to be a bit of a player before Marie. He had every girl after him and took his pick. After he met her he was a changed man. He had tunnel vision for that woman. He’s not been the same since she passed. It’s been three years.”
“That’s dreadful.”
“I want to see him smile again, you know? He was always laughing before, but he’s so serious these days.”
“It takes time to heal wounds.”
“I think Nate would spend the rest of his life grieving if nobody stepped in. He doesn’t know how to move on. He should be happy again. He deserves that.”
“Another reason for me to stay far away.” I saw Carla’s shocked look and realized she thought that I was suggesting Nate was damaged goods. I was quick to correct her. “What I mean, is that I’ve got my own baggage. It’s not fair to lay my troubles on someone who’s already gone through so much. I’d be no good for him. No good for him at all.”
I heard my own words hang in the air, and I knew they were true. Ever since I’d met Victor Malone, I’d signed myself up to a lifetime of misery. It wasn’t fair to put it on someone else. It would be better for me to keep my head low and stay alone so I couldn’t burden anyone with my issues, and not be hurt again.
Chapter Three
Nate
“I don’t wanna go!”
I’d been listening to my four-year-old daughter, Harriet, wailing her protests ever since we left home. It was the end of summer, and Harriet did not want to go back to preschool. Why should she have to share the grown-ups’ attention with all those other kids when at home she had Grandma, Daddy and Aunt Kacey all to herself? Harriet wanted to live in an eternal summer, baking with Grandma, playing hide-and-seek with Aunt Kacey, and watching cartoons with Daddy.
“I know honey, but it’s time to go back to school.”
“Why?”
“So you can learn and make new friends.”
“I don’t wanna make new friends.”
I chuckled and looked over at Harriet fondly. She was a cute kid, but acted like she was four going on fourteen. She looked like her mother with blonde hair I had helped her wrestle into two pigtails. Freckles spattered across her chubby cheeks and big, brown eyes could wrap you around her little finger when she put on a puppy-dog stare.
“Of course you want to make friends, Harriet! Don’t you remember how much fun you had last year?”
Harriet folded her arms stubbornly across her chest. Her bottom lip began to wobble. I kept one eye on the road as I reached out to tickle her tummy. “Come on now, baby. Let’s see your smile.”
She tried to stay stubborn but tickles always won, and she began to giggle. “Daddy!”
I laughed and returned my hand to the wheel. “You’re going to have the best time. You’ll have the sand pit and tricycles. You can even play with Samantha. All summer long you were asking if Samantha could come over and play. Now you don’t want to see her?”
“I wanna stay at home.”
“Sorry, kiddo, but Daddy and Aunt Kacey have work. Grandma gets tired easily nowadays. You have a lot of energy, you know. It’s only three days a week. You can manage that.”
“Nooooo!”
“What do you mean ‘no’? I thought you were a big girl now. Going to school is what big girls do. You’ll have fun with Samantha today, and on Thursday, Grandma told me you’re going to make cookies with her.”
I pulled up on the street outside the preschool and managed to pull a very reluctant girl out of her booster seat. Harriet dragged her feet dramatically and threw her head back with a groan, eventually stomping after me with a grimace, her little backpack on her shoulders.
I took her to the classroom and raised my eyebrows in surprise when I peered around the doorway and saw how many kids they had this year. There were dozens of them, already running around and throwing tantrums, making messes and falling over. It looked like Mrs. Gatsby had her work cut out for her this semester.
I knelt down to talk to Harriet. She wrapped her arms around my legs like a capuchin monkey and was burying her head tearfully into my thigh. I peeled her away from me and held her by the shoulders, trying to catch her eye as she hung her head dolefully.
“Look at how many kids there are to play with this year! You’re going make so many friends!”
Harriet burst into tears. “I… wanna… stay… with… you!”
“I know, sweetie, but Daddy’s gotta work.”
“I… wanna… stay… with… Grandma!”
I smiled and raised my eyebrows. “And if Grandma’s busy, I’ll bet you want to stay with Aunt Kacey… am I right?”
Harriet sniffled and sobbed, clinging to my hand. I glanced at the clock and sighed. “It’s only for a few hours, Harriet. I know you can do it.”
I heard a light laugh behind me and turned around to see a woman who was not the familiar middle-aged Mrs. Gatsby in her sagging stockings and hand-knitted cardigan. This was a young woman — late twenties, I guessed — with a slim figure, mid-length dark hair and gentle, smiling eyes. Kneeling down, I found myself at her feet, and couldn’t help but let my eyes wander up her shapely calves, to her waist, and finally to her face. She had high cheekbones, dusted lightly with blush, and her shapely lips were colored a deep red.
She knelt down beside me, and I caught the scent of jasmine perfume. I felt my blood run hotter and took a longer glance at this stranger. She wore a short-sleeved white blouse made of a silky material that clung to her hourglass figure and a knee-length pencil skirt accentuating her ass. I felt like I recognized her from somewhere.
“Having trouble?”
“My little girl doesn’t feel like going to school today.”
The woman turned to Harriet with mock shock on her face. “Are you kidding me! What’s your name?”
“Harriet.”
“Tell me, Harriet, what’s your favorite thing to do?”
Harriet grew shy and tried to hide behind me. I gave her an encouraging nudge.
“Painting.”
“Painting! No way! Guess what, Harriet? That’s exactly what we’re doing today. How about you sit at my table, ok? I’ve got some great colors. What’s your favorite color?”
“Pink.”
“Really? Mine, too! Well, I’ll make sure I save us the pink paint. Will you paint me a picture today?”
Harriet’s shy smile turned into a grin, and she nodded. There was nothing Harriet liked more than having the full attention of a grown-up all to herself.
“My desk is over there.” The woman pointed to a low, round table covered with building blocks. “Go save us a seat, and let me take your backpack for you. I’ll hang it up and keep it safe.”
Miraculously, Harriet did as she was told. I stood up from where I had been crouching. I turned to the stranger with an impressed smile. “You’re good.” Suddenly, I realized how I knew this woman. Hadn’t Carla been telling me about a new preschool teacher’s assistant? Looking at the woman again, I thought I remembered her looking at me from the coffee shop across the street a couple of days ago. “You’re new, right?”
“It’s my first day.”
“I hope it’s a good one. I’m Nate, by the way. Harriet’s Dad.” I reached out to shake her hand. She closed her fingers around mine, and it took me a moment to realize I had touched her skin for a fraction of a second longer than necessary. I noticed her blushing at the extended contact. “I didn’t catch your name.”
“Jenna.”
I folded my arms across my chest into a more casual position. I caught Jenna’s eyes traveling to my biceps and noticed her blush even more. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and bowed her head.
“How are you finding everything so far?”
Jenna let out a light laugh. “It only took me five minutes to make an absolute fool of myself.”
“What happened?”
She gestured towards a playmat near the door. “I tripped the second I stepped into the classroom and fell flat on my face, ripping my pantyhose.”
She lifted her skirt slightly to show me the long tear on her thigh, and I felt my cock stiffen. Jenna was a beautiful woman with great legs. As if she realized the effect she was having on me, Jenna quickly let her skirt fall down and took an embarrassing step back. She raised her hands in a little shrug. “Clumsy, much? Not a great first impression.”
“That’s nothing,” I told her. “When I first started at the station, I was a little too eager to use the fireman’s pole. I leapt on that thing like I was Tarzan. Problem was the bell started to ring. I missed it by a mile and fell an entire floor, landing on my back. The boys thought it was about the funniest thing they ever saw. I still haven’t lived it down.”
Jenna laughed at my story, and I saw a slight sparkle in her eye. She tilted her head slightly and looked at me with interest, and I saw her bite down on her lip. I don’t think she even realized she was doing it and for some reason it was crazy sexy to me. I’d attracted a lot of women in my life, and they almost always wanted to make sure I knew they were available. They’d flutter their eyelashes or let down one more button than necessary on their blouse. They’d flash me flirtatious smiles or twirl their hair suggestively. It was always deliberate and coy.
Jenna, though — she had an attraction she was trying to hide, and her attempt to be demure was more alluring than anything Carla had ever done to try and get my attention. The slight pink hue rising on her neck that she couldn’t control and the way she looked away as soon as she realized she’d stared too long… There was something about her drawing me in and turning me on.
“You’re a firefighter, then?”
I grinned. I was pretty sure Jenna already knew I was a firefighter, but she was trying to pretend she didn’t. Maybe she didn’t want me to realize she had been staring at me this weekend, but it was too late for that. I was onto her. “That’s right. The station is right across from a great little coffee shop, Carla’s Coffee.”
