My Wild Irish Dragon

by Ashlyn Chase

  Rory looked up and raised his voice, “Amber?”

  She appeared beside him. “No need to shout, hon.” Then she hugged Chloe. “You look gorgeous. I don’t think I’ve seen you in a dress since Shannon’s wedding in Ballyhoo.”

  Chloe chuckled. “I don’t wear a lot of fussy dresses. I prefer to be comfortable.”

  “Dresses can be very comfortable. We should go shopping sometime.”

  “Why? Is this dress not fittin’ the tab?”

  “Um. I think you were going for ‘fitting the bill,’ but that’s not what I was saying. It’s perfect. I just thought you might like to have a couple of dresses in pretty colors, just in case. You’d look fabulous in hot pink or electric blue.”

  “Just in case of what?” Rory asked, looking genuinely perplexed.

  Amber bumped his elbow. “In case she has a hot date.”

  Rory made the mistake of leaning back and letting out a deep belly laugh.

  Chloe crossed her arms. “I think I’m insulted.”

  “You think?” Amber stomped on her boyfriend’s toe until he picked up his foot and hopped around. He didn’t stop laughing though.

  “Do you think no one will ever ask me for a date, Brother? Am I hideous?”

  “You’re not hideous, Chloe. But history has shown that any poor bloke who asks you for a date gets told to go on his way and never bother you again. If they don’t listen the first time, I usually see ’em runnin’ for their lives the second.”

  Chloe snickered. Her brother was right, but that was back in Ballyhoo where sons of sheepherders and fishermen held no appeal. Now things were different. She was different. And one Ryan Fierro was responsible for some of the uncomfortable changes.

  “I could date,” she said. “I was asked out recently.”

  Rory’s eyebrows shot up. “Is that a fact?”

  “’Tis indeed.”

  Amber clapped her hands. “Awesome! Let’s go shopping on your next day off. When will that be?”

  Chloe let out a sigh. “I’m not feelin’ much like shoppin’. It’s not like I was asked to go to the ballet or symphony. I was asked to go on a fishin’ trip.”

  “Fishin’?” Rory said. “After all the fish we had to catch and eat on our way to Iceland? I thought you said you’d never eat fish again.”

  “I did. Which is why I turned down the invitation.”

  “Oh…” Amber said, sounding disappointed. “Well, maybe someday…”

  Her brother and his girlfriend were really irritating. They seemed to think that her being asked for a date was a fluke that would never happen again. Well, she’d just turn the tables on them.

  “So, when are you two gettin’ married?”

  Rory barked a laugh. Amber didn’t seem quite as amused.

  “It’s not that we won’t, someday…” Rory said.

  “Well, I can’t imagine what you’re waitin’ for. Hell, you’ve been inseparable since the day you met.”

  She couldn’t hide the smirk creeping into her smile. The two of them had begun their relationship fighting over the same apartment, each of them refusing to leave.

  Suddenly Chloe realized she and Ryan had been thrown right into a similar situation. They had been competing for a single job.

  A year and a half ago, it had been clear to everyone except Rory and Amber that their struggle involved more than an apartment. The way they’d looked at each other, even when angry, couldn’t hide a smoldering sensuality.

  Is that what the captain saw when she and Ryan were glaring at each other?

  “Holy shite,” she muttered under her breath.

  Amber put her arm around Chloe’s shoulder. “There’s no need to stand here in the foyer. Let’s go sit in the living room.”

  A split second later she wobbled, light-headed, when she and Amber appeared in the fourth floor apartment in front of the sofa. “I may never get used to teleportation.”

  Amber smiled. “Have a seat. I’ll be right back.”

  She disappeared into thin air and a moment later returned holding Rory’s hand.

  “You didn’t have to do that. We can take the elevator like normal people,” Chloe said. “In fact, you-know-who would be very upset if she saw you usin’ your power where anyone walkin’ by could see.”

  “It’s still light out. People can’t see in, and we don’t have guests at the moment.” Amber set a tray of hot appetizers on the coffee table. Appetizers that hadn’t been in her hands a moment ago.

  “Now, tell us what’s bothering you.”

  “Who said anythin’s botherin’ me?”

  “You did. You want to stay in and your accent is back.”

  “That’s just because I’m with me brother. It comes floodin’ back in the presence of a fellow Irishman.”

  Amber folded her arms. “Do I need to loosen your tongue with some Irish whiskey?”

  Chloe grinned. “I’ll certainly let you try.”

  Rory laughed and took that as his cue to fetch the Bushmills. He poured two fingers for each of them and set one in front of his sister.

  She downed it in one gulp.

  “Jaysus, Chloe. Amber’s right. You must be upset. Since you’ve never done that unless dared, I assume it’s somethin’ terrible.”

  “It’s no biggo.”

  Rory’s glass paused on the way to his mouth. “Biggo?”

  Amber pushed away her drink and said, “I think she meant to say biggie. ‘It’s no biggie.’”

  Chloe’s face heated. Just when she thought she had all the American expressions down, she screwed up another one.

  Rory laughed. He stopped quickly though. “So, little sister. It doesn’t matter if the problem is little or biggo. If it’s a problem of yours, ’tis a problem of mine.”

  She stiffened. “Says who?”

  “Says someone who loves you.”

  As if the air went out of her, she sagged against the couch. “I’m sorry.” After a long pause, she blurted out, “There’s this man…”

  * * *

  At Sunday dinner, Jayce announced to the entire Fierro clan, “So, I hear Ryan has a new girlfriend.”

  Ryan sputtered, almost choking on his mother’s excellent manicotti. After the catcalls, congratulations, and lewd comments had died down, he said, “You heard wrong.”

  “Really? Because a couple of the guys have met her and whooeeee…” He waved his fingers as if they were on fire. “They said if they had seen her first…”

  Ryan narrowed his eyes at Jayce. “If they’d seen her first, they’d what? Ask her out? Tell those fools she’d eat ’em alive.”

  Mr. Fierro laughed. “It sounds as if my middle son might eat ’em alive.”

  Ryan shook his head. “Not at all. I’m just trying to save your buddies an unnecessary rejection…but if they like being shot down, tell ’em to go for it.”

  “So, she’s not looking for a hot date?” his youngest brother Luca asked. “Why not? Is she already seeing someone?”

  Ryan was silent. He could pretend he didn’t know, but Chloe had told him she didn’t have a husband or boyfriend.

  “I don’t know,” Ryan started. “But she has kind of a prickly vibe. Nice enough to the married guys, but she definitely gives out the ‘back off’ message if anyone tries to get too friendly. And her favorite phrase seems to be, ‘I can take care of meself.’”

  As the majority of the men guessed that meant Chloe was gay, his mother raised her hands. “Now, now, Jayce, Miguel, Gabe, Ryan, Dante, Noah, and Luca…don’t forget…it’s not about a person’s sex or sexual orientation. If they can do the job, that’s all that matters.”

  The Fierro patriarch shook his head. “How do you remember all their names? And in order, no less.”

  The sons chuckled. Good ol’ Dad could be counted on to bring
the comic relief to any situation—whether he meant to or not.

  Dante folded his arms and focused on Ryan. “Maybe she’s just independent. So, you’re saying you wouldn’t go out with her if she asked you?”

  Ryan tried to keep a straight face. “Yeah, that’ll happen when hell freezes over.”

  Gabe, his next older brother, the one who probably knew him best, asked, “So if we set you up on a blind date, you’d go?”

  “Hell no. I don’t go on blind dates. You know that.”

  He shrugged. “I just thought I’d ask. It’s been a long time since Melanie. Now that you’re in a pretty much all-male job, you might need help meeting eligible females.”

  Ryan snorted. “I don’t need any help in that department.”

  Miguel, the second son, who was happily married, said, “There’s always the girls who hang around the station hoping to snag a date with a firefighter.”

  Ryan’s brows shot up. “The Fire Hoes? No way.”

  His dad laughed. “In my day we called them Jake groupies, but I like your term better.”

  “Leave him alone, boys,” his mother said. “Ryan may not be ready for love, despite what you all think.”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  “Who said anything about love?” Noah, the next to the youngest, asked. “It’s just weird he’s been celibate for a year.” He leaned out enough to see Ryan. “You must be ready for a little fun.”

  “Again, I can find my own fun.” Ryan drained his wineglass. “May I be excused?”

  “You may not,” his father said. “Your mother works hard to put together Sunday dinner each week. The least you can do is sit and suffer through it.”

  His mother glared at her husband. “Suffer through it?”

  “Sorry, hon. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

  She rose. “I’d like Ryan’s help in the kitchen, if you don’t mind. There’s still dessert to ‘suffer though.’”

  Her sons protested that her tiramisu was nothing they had to suffer through, and they all offered to help.

  “The only one I want in there right now is Ryan. Thank you for the offers, though.” She smiled at her sons and shot her husband a parting hairy eyeball.

  “Oh boy, Dad. You really stepped in it,” Gabe said.

  “Yeah.” Mr. Fierro placed his elbow on the table and cradled his chin. “I’ll probably get the smallest piece and a lecture about my waistline.”

  Chapter 6

  “Chief, may I talk with you privately?” Haggarty asked. “It’s about Firefighter Arish.”

  “Already?”

  John Haggarty hadn’t expected the district chief to drop in and welcome Chloe and Ryan to the firehouse personally, but now that he was here, seizing the opportunity seemed like the right thing to do.

  “Uh. If you have time… It’ll only take a couple of minutes.”

  “Sure. I like to say my door is always open, except when it’s closed. Looks like it’s open at the moment.” He ushered Haggarty into the office he used when he was at this particular firehouse. His position covered more than one.

  As they sat, John said, “First off, I want to thank you for hiring two firefighters. I know it couldn’t have been easy to get the extra funding.”

  The chief chuckled. “Don’t worry. We’ll have a bake sale or something.”

  The guy seemed to be in a good mood, so Haggarty relaxed. “This is kind of related to that, actually. I was just wondering if Firefighter Arish’s background check was…well…”

  “Spit it out, Haggarty.”

  “Thorough,” he said. There. He might not have to worry about his position in the department, but he still wanted to be sure he stayed alive. A petite female firefighter could never rescue his six-foot-two, slightly pudgy frame.

  The chief leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands. “What makes you think it wasn’t?”

  “I don’t know anything for sure, but one night me and the guys were out for a drink and Fierro came in. He was talking about the blonde being fresh off the boat. And just a little while ago, I asked her if she’d ever been to Trinity College in Dublin. She acted as if she didn’t know the school. I thought it was world-famous.”

  “Hmmm… It could be that she didn’t travel much in Ireland. She’s from Northern Ireland, you know. Have you noticed anything that can’t be explained by individual preferences?”

  “Well, maybe. When I was talking to a firefighter from District 3, he said his wife met her on the day she arrived—by boat.”

  The chief shrugged. “And?”

  “Well, I thought that was kind of suspicious. She hates boats. She turned down a fishing trip because of it.”

  The captain laughed. “Ever heard of a white lie, John? She was probably just letting you down easy.”

  “I don’t think so, sir. Besides, I’m not the one who asked her. She said she’d be willing to do something else with the guys, but no boats.”

  The chief frowned. “I really don’t see what this has to do with her background check.”

  He hated to spell it out, but the chief wasn’t getting it. “Are you sure she came into the country legally? If someone hates boats and has to cross an ocean, they’d probably fly. Wouldn’t they? Unless they didn’t have a passport or were on a no-fly list.”

  Chief O’Brien raised his eyebrows. “Are you saying you think she’s an undocumented immigrant—or a terrorist?”

  “I don’t know, sir. I just wondered.”

  The chief rose and strolled to the door. “Well, don’t worry about it. All naturalized citizens are investigated thoroughly. Her documents were checked and nothing out of the ordinary was found.”

  Haggarty realized the conversation was over when the chief opened the door. “Yes, sir.” He crossed in front of him and left, but the officer didn’t follow. Instead he returned to his desk, and Haggarty was somewhat gratified when he saw him reaching for the phone. Perhaps he’d planted a tiny seed of doubt.

  Hopefully he hadn’t made it look like he simply disliked her and wanted her gone for that reason. He knew full well that working closely with other people was a crapshoot. Sometimes you liked each other and sometimes you didn’t. As long as it didn’t affect the work, the top brass didn’t give a shit.

  Maybe his next move should be to invite her to do something else with them. If he didn’t like her, he’d avoid her company, especially on their days off, right?

  When he reentered the kitchen, the guys seemed a little more interested in their new female probie than he’d expected them to be. Not just interested, but downright charmed. Chloe was smiling and seemed more relaxed than when he’d left.

  So why did that bother him?

  “Hey, Arish,” he said. “We hang out sometimes. Is there anything you like to do besides sewing circles and shopping?”

  One side of her lip turned up slowly. “I’m not much for either sewing or shopping. Can’t you see a woman doing anything else?”

  “Don’t worry. I won’t ask you to go fishing.” He winked.

  Ryan Fierro rose and approached him slowly. “She knows how to ‘hang out,’ Haggarty.” He used air quotes and his tone sounded downright offended.

  “Are you saying you and Arish are hanging out, Fierro? As in dating?”

  Chloe snorted. “I won’t be datin’ any of me coworkers, boys. That’s a recipe for disappointment.”

  “I think you mean ‘a recipe for disaster,’” Ryan corrected her.

  She looked at him wide-eyed. “I’d hardly call a bad date a disaster. No one should matter that much.”

  The guys laughed.

  Lieutenant Streeter spoke up. “I won’t be asking. I’m married, and my wife is disappointed enough.”

  More laughter filled the kitchen.

  “So it sounds like you’re expecting a date with
a firefighter would be a disappointment,” Haggarty said.

  Ryan whispered something to the guy next to him. It sounded like, “If he’s genuinely thinking of asking her out, I can’t wait to see her shut him down.”

  “Not a’tall,” Chloe answered. “I simply wouldn’t want it to be awkward, workin’ alongside any of you fine fellows if things went pear-shaped. I imagine it might affect the workplace.”

  “Pear-shaped?” Haggarty mumbled.

  “You’re probably right,” Ryan said. “But if things got that bad, one of you would be transferred to another house.”

  “And I don’t want it to be me,” she asserted. “I live within walkin’ distance, and I like it that way. Drivin’ around Boston is a ‘recipe for disaster.’”

  They all laughed.

  “You got that right,” Streeter said.

  She looked up at John innocently. “So, what were you thinkin’ when you mentioned hanging out?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. I heard you didn’t like fishing when you were invited. So what do you like to do?”

  She hesitated. “Up until now I enjoyed helpin’ me brother remodel his B and B. But it’s finished. I miss the physical activity.”

  “We could go to a gym,” Ryan suggested. “Spot each other, lift weights. Maybe try out some equipment we don’t have here at the station.”

  Haggarty snorted. “That wouldn’t interest me much. I like to box, but I won’t be hitting a woman.”

  Chloe seemed to perk up. “I’d like to see a first-class gym. The few donated things they have here wouldn’t keep me occupied for long.”

  “Great,” Ryan said. “I used to go to a place in the financial district. They had ProForm equipment, treadmills, hybrid trainers, Tour de France exercise bikes, ellipticals, and all kinds of weights. Anyone else know of something like that nearby?”

  The quiet ones shook their heads, but Streeter suggested a place in Kenmore Square. “They have some good weight training equipment,” he said, looking directly at Chloe.

  At that moment, the tones rang out. A dispatcher announced over a loudspeaker where they’d be going.