The Firefighter's Cinderella (Fire and Sparks)

by Sonya Weiss

  He’d finally given up and put in some more time studying for the exam. He wanted the next promotion ceremony to be his. He made sure his skills were current, and he was always the first to volunteer for anything the station needed. But he knew that while the exam carried weight with the chief, how a man conducted himself in his personal life did, too. Which was why he had to find a way to convince Harper to let him have the part. It would prove he could keep a commitment.

  He finished his morning duties before he left and was standing in front of the bays talking to some of the other guys when Mac whistled. “Look at that.”

  Rafferty turned to see Harper walking toward them with a gentle sway of her hips.

  He swept his gaze from her black shorts up to the white T-shirt that hinted at a lacy pink bra beneath.

  She walked the way she always did. Shoulders back, taking small determined steps, her face a mask of I-don’t-want-to-do-this. Harper rarely came to the station, and he figured there was only one reason she was here today.

  He hated that things were bad for her, but he wasn’t sorry she needed him, because the need was mutual. Working with her was the key to getting what he wanted.

  Keeping a death grip on the strap of the purse slung over one shoulder, she smiled tightly at the men standing with him. Rafferty guessed she didn’t want to do this in front of them. With the back of his hand, he smacked Mac on the chest. “I’ll see you guys later.”

  They took the hint and scattered.

  Rafferty waited, letting the silence lengthen between them. Finally, he said, “Did you come to admire me, or do you have something to say?”

  She dragged her glance over his freshly washed hair down the length of his jeans. “I came to say that you’ll do.”

  He wasn’t letting her off that easy. “I’ll do what?”

  “As Prince Charming. Please,” she said stiffly.

  He shook his head. “I’m not feeling it.”

  “Feeling what?”

  “The nice apology I mentioned in your office.”

  Her blue eyes flashed with a message that was anything but apologetic. “I apologize that you were offended by anything I said or did.”

  “The way you worded that…” He rubbed his chin. “It’s not very sincere.”

  “You don’t know me well enough anymore to know whether I’m sincere or not.”

  “Right back at you.”

  She shook her head. “I know you well enough to know that you’re still a player. A heartbreaker.”

  Rafferty didn’t like labels. He didn’t lie to women or lead them on. True, he dated around, but he wasn’t a jerk about it. Three dates weren’t enough time for anyone to fall in love with him. He couldn’t walk that road again. Couldn’t face the almosts and the regrets. Couldn’t be the reason someone’s life ended.

  Harper shifted impatiently, and Rafferty’s thoughts snapped back to her. Spending time together, they’d surely butt heads. She rubbed him the wrong way. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Maybe there was an easier way to prove he could keep a commitment. He caught a quick hint of trembling pride in her eyes, that I-need-help look even though he knew she’d never admit it, and he softened.

  “Okay. I’ll take the job.”

  “Great.” She let out a long, relieved breath. “The next step is to get all the forms filled out and put you on the payroll. We’ll work around your schedule here. Any questions?”

  “Just one,” he said as it occurred to him. “If you can’t stand to be around me, how are you ever going to make it through the show’s kissing scene?”

  She smiled sweetly but with a touch of devilment in her eyes. “The right question is how are you going to make it through kissing me? Because once you’ve tasted me, the rest won’t satisfy, and there goes your dating life.”

  “I guess we’ll see, then.”

  “Guess we will.” She arched a brow in their silent battle of wills. “If you’re free now, you can follow me to the castle.”

  “Whatever you say, boss.” Rafferty jauntily saluted and headed toward his car.

  Harper fell into step beside him but kept an arm’s length between them. He glanced at her. He liked women uncomplicated. Fun. Spontaneous. Everything Harper Bailey wasn’t.

  When they reached the parking lot, she left him standing at his car and marched to her van without a word.

  Shaking his head, he got into his car and pulled away from the station after her.

  He wondered what she’d be like if she ever let go of the control she clung so tightly to, and he imagined for a quick not-thinking-above-the-belt moment what it’d be like if that man was him. Rafferty put the brakes on that thought when he nearly rear-ended Harper’s pink minivan.

  She leaned out the driver’s side window, miming how close he’d almost come to hitting her vehicle, and then threw her arm up in exasperation. He acknowledged her with a nod, and she popped back into the van and rolled her window up, no doubt muttering to herself about his driving skills.

  Chagrined, Rafferty didn’t know what had just happened. Losing his concentration wasn’t something that happened to him. Harper made him feel out of sorts. No woman had ever put him in the position of lying in bed wondering what she was doing. If she needed anything. If she tasted as good as she looked.

  Prim and proper Harper Bailey was buzzing around in his mind, derailing his focus, and he didn’t like it. Not one bit.

  Chapter Four

  “We do rehearsals once a week except the week of the annual barbecue festival,” Harper said, unlocking the office door and stepping back to allow Rafferty to pass her. She hated the tightening in her stomach as he brushed against her arm. She hated—okay, she was woman enough to admit it to herself—that she was so aware of him. It felt dangerous. Like sneaking up behind a bear, slapping it on the butt, and then trying to outrun it.

  She closed the door, walked around him, and sat behind the desk to open a drawer. Taking out various forms, she placed them neatly in front of herself. “Once you read these, sign on the bottom line. The first one is a non-disclosure—”

  “In case I decide to go be a prince elsewhere?” he teased.

  “Something like that. You’ll have a three-week trial period where you’ll need to prove that you’re the right man for the job. If at the end of three weeks I decide you’re not, then I’ll let you go.”

  “I’m always the right man.” He smiled.

  Harper steeled herself against responding to the pull of his charm and didn’t return the smile. “The trial period will be the judge of that.”

  “Then I’ll make sure I don’t give you any reason to fire me.” He held his hand out.

  She passed the contract to him, careful not to make contact with his hand. Steepling her fingers, she waited for him to finish reading and sign.

  He paused, the pen poised above a line. “If the show’s the same thing every week, why is more than one rehearsal needed?”

  “Because we sometimes have new people playing the parts, such as yourself. Rehearsal is to make sure everyone knows their mark and remembers their lines.”

  “You never just wing it?”

  “No, we don’t ‘just wing it,’ and rehearsal is mandatory. Miss two and you’re fired. Miss a show for any reason other than an emergency and you’re fired. There’s also a morality clause. If you do something offensive that could jeopardize the castle’s reputation, you’ll be fired.”

  “Tough crowd.”

  “That’s life,” she said briskly then pulled out a calendar. “List the dates when you’re unavailable so I can work around that. Rehearsal starts tomorrow, so hopefully we’ll get you ready to go by the first show.”

  “No problem.” He signed the last page with a flourish.

  She took the papers from him and stashed them in her desk, locked it, and rose. “Follow me. I wa
nt you to try on the costume to make sure it fits.”

  Rafferty beat her to the door and held it open for her.

  Harper led the way from the office to the room where the costumes were cared for and stored. An elderly man everyone called Papa Ron looked up and smiled when they entered. She’d found him sitting outside a coffee shop in the rain, his suitcase beside him. After listening to his tale, that his wife had died and he was fulfilling their bucket list of seeing the world and needed to work for a few months to earn more traveling money, Harper had hired him. Turned out he was handy at everything, including sewing.

  Over the weeks, a friendship had developed between the two, and she thought of him in the same light as her late grandfather, someone filled with kindness and wisdom.

  He motioned to a princess costume hanging on a dress form. “I rushed fixing the torn seam. I knew one of the stepsisters needed it.”

  “Thank you, Papa Ron.” She indicated Rafferty. “This is our new prince. We need to get his clothes fit in time for the show.”

  Ron shook Rafferty’s hand and then gave him a pair of dark-blue pants with a gold stripe down the side and a white long-sleeve shirt with gold epaulets. “Try on the shirt first and I’ll mark it for adjustments.”

  Harper was caught off guard when Rafferty laid the pants on a table then reached behind his head to grasp his T-shirt and pull it off. The muscles in his bare back bunched and tensed, moving like a well-oiled machine as he picked up the other shirt.

  She chewed the side of her lip when he twisted at the waist to slide one arm into a sleeve. His stomach muscles contracted, making his abdominal V incredibly noticeable. And of course, he’d have to look at her in that moment and catch her admiring the view.

  Moving to the window, she pretended her interest was captured by the new flowers the lawn care company had planted on the grounds. Pretending, because she was really paying attention to the conversation between Rafferty and Papa Ron. They traded tales of adventure. Mountain climbing. Sailing. Backpacking across different countries. The beauty of the places. Their close calls. Their injuries.

  When the topic switched to dating, Harper didn’t know why it irritated her. She spun around, fixing her hands on her hips. “I forgot to mention. Rehearsals can run late, so you might want to let whoever you’re dating know that.”

  Rafferty regarded her steadily. “Tell you what. I’ll take care of the women in my life and you take care of the men in yours.”

  Papa Ron snorted. “Harper’s dating life is a little dusty. I’d say it could qualify as a ghost town at this point. She prefers to watch a movie and eat one of them TV dinners.”

  Could he make my life sound any more thrilling? “I’m trying to keep this place from collapsing. Some of us have to work long hours.”

  Papa Ron studied her, and Harper held her breath. They’d had dinner together the night she’d discovered her ex’s unfaithfulness, and she’d cried about her lonely nights and her dreams of wanting someone to share her life with. The older man had brought up Rafferty’s name as one of the dateable men in town, and she’d paused long enough to make Papa Ron question whether she’d entertained a lingering thought about the sexy firefighter.

  Which she’d laughed at and vehemently denied.

  Papa Ron turned his attention away from her. “Harper’s investment in you is purely for the castle’s sake.” He motioned to Rafferty. “Hold your arms out.”

  Thankful Papa Ron had her back, Harper let go of the breath she’d held.

  Rafferty raised his arms for the sleeves to be marked. Unlike the former prince, he filled the shirt to the point that his build strained the material.

  Papa Ron clucked his tongue as he walked around Rafferty. Whipping out a tape measure, he pressed it against the shirt and made notations in a tiny notepad he carried everywhere. “Try the pants now.”

  Rafferty reached for the button on his jeans and arched a brow at Harper. “I don’t mind if you stay, but one look and it’ll make your knees go weak.”

  “No thanks.” Harper walked out of the room and closed the door behind her. Deep breath and exhale.

  Her toes had curled when he’d stripped off the shirt, but there was a logical explanation for that. He worked out. He was fit. Of course she’d notice in the same way she’d notice a beautiful painting. Pure admiration for beauty. Nothing more.

  Several minutes later, footsteps approached, and she pushed away from the door, whirling around a split second before it opened, acting like she hadn’t been straining to listen in.

  “Got everything you need?” she asked Papa Ron, using her most authoritative this-is-business tone.

  “Yep.” He nodded at Rafferty. “I’ll leave the clothes here for you tonight when I’m done. Thanks for the invitation to next week’s poker game. I’ll be there.”

  Harper walked with him to the employee break room. Handing him a key, she pointed to a locker. “You can store your wallet and valuables there during the performances.”

  Rafferty tapped the locker. “You don’t have to give me the grand tour. I’m sure I can find my way around.”

  Obviously, he’s as eager to get out of my company as I am his. “Fine by me. Papa Ron should be done with the outfit by eight. Can I trust you to be here on time?”

  He didn’t answer. Didn’t move. Just looked at her.

  She put her hands in the pockets of her shorts and met his stare, refusing to back down and be the first to look away.

  He walked slowly toward her. If he took another step, he’d collide with her. She braced for the impact. For the heat against her body.

  He wanted to push her buttons. Make her lose control. Well, she wasn’t falling for it. Here it comes. His head lowering. I’ll shut him down so fast… Her lips parted.

  “Excuse me. You’re blocking the door,” he said.

  Flustered, she closed her mouth and quickly stepped to one side.

  He stopped beside her. “Inhale slowly and don’t think about me. It’ll help calm your breathing.”

  “You—”

  “See you at eight.”

  Harper wanted to slap herself. She was an intelligent woman and could hold her own with any guy in town. But Rafferty knew what buttons to push to wind her up. She never should have allowed herself to become friends with him in the first place. Never trust a guy who couldn’t commit. One who lived life on the edge.

  She breathed in and out slowly, centering herself, searching for inner peace. But her mind went right back to Rafferty and all the ways he could hurt her heart all over again if she wasn’t careful.

  …

  Rafferty sat in the driveway at his parents’ house after leaving the castle. If I survive hanging around Harper, it’ll be a miracle.

  When headlights swept over the interior of his car, he got out and waited for Lincoln and Josie. Kent and Casey were already here, as was Grayson and his grandmother.

  “Why do you think Mom called a family meeting?” he asked, stepping onto the porch after skirting one of his mother’s ceramic planters brimming with colorful flowers.

  “I don’t know. What’d you do?”

  Rafferty shook his head. “I’m as innocent as a lamb.”

  “How you keep from getting struck by lightning is beyond me,” Lincoln said.

  Rafferty pulled open the front door and was instantly drawn into the smothering love and chaos that made up his family. Something with a delicious aroma simmered on the stove, laughter filled the room, and everyone talked at once.

  Casey’s face was red, her eyes puffy from crying.

  In instant protection mode, Rafferty sent a dark look Kent’s way. “What’d you do?”

  “He didn’t do anything. Well, I mean he did. We’re going to have a baby!” Casey laughed in the middle of letting out a sob.

  His mom immediately wrapped her arms around Ca
sey and beamed.

  Rafferty let the announcement sink in and then shook Kent’s hand. Everyone began hugging and congratulating the couple.

  “Better you than me,” he joked.

  Kent laughed, not looking at all freaked out like Rafferty knew he would if he were in his brother-in-law’s shoes.

  Jean eased her way through all the hugging and cheerfulness until she was beside Rafferty. “Take notes. That’s going to be you someday.”

  “It’s not Halloween for months yet. Stop with the horror stories.”

  His grandmother laughed. “How’d it go with Harper today?”

  “Speaking of horror…how’d you know about that?”

  “I know all the available old geezers. They’re my information pipeline. Papa Ron called me.”

  Rafferty shrugged. “It went okay,” he said. What he didn’t say was that Harper was as grating as ever. He didn’t like that his thoughts kept returning to her. Picturing the two of them together. Making love until the sun rose…

  Right. Like that’s going to happen. He’d need a blowtorch and a heatwave combined to thaw her iciness.

  “Just okay?” Jean needled. “That means she didn’t let you charm her pants off.”

  “I didn’t even try,” he said.

  “Uh-huh.”

  Rafferty looked around to make sure no one could overhear him or he’d catch hell if they did. “I never thought I’d say this about a woman, but she’s not my type.”

  “Shot you down, did she?”

  “No.” Affronted, Rafferty crossed his arms. “I wasn’t even off the ground because I don’t want Harper. The only thing that was ever between us was friendship, and now we’re not even that anymore.”

  Jean leaned into him. “Pay attention. I’m about to give you some life-changing advice.”

  Rafferty lowered his head.

  “Horse pucky.” Jean tweaked his ear and straightened. “You may not want to want her, but you do. I’ll bet my thong that you get tingles running like a herd of stampeding cattle every time you lay eyes on her.”

  Rafferty put his fist up to his mouth and puffed out his cheeks in a pseudo gag. “Don’t talk about thongs at your age. You’ll give me mental scars.”