She got a funny feeling in her stomach when she looked up and their gazes met. She was toast. The man only had to look at her and smile, and she was ready to follow him anywhere.
When Mike stopped and held up his hand for his friend to stop, Pat stared at him. “Hurts that much?”
“Yeah.” Mike’s face contorted for a moment as he gave in to the pain before shrugging it off. “Guess I might need to sit out for a little while.”
Grace moved to put her arm around Mike, leading him over to the bench, where Meg and Cait were waiting to ease him off his feet. Grace moved a folding chair over so Mike could elevate his knee.
“We can use the ice in the cooler,” Cait said. “Be right back with a baggie and a towel.”
Pat looked from Mike to Grace and back. And nothing surprised Grace more than the clipped tone of Patrick’s voice or the warning for Mike to keep his hands to himself as he rejoined the guys on the field.
Mike’s lightning quick grin would be lethal to a woman’s heart if her heart wasn’t already taken with another.
Grace decided to let Patrick know how she felt. Jogging to catch up to him, she grabbed his arm from behind. He spun around, and just before he could ask what she wanted, she was in arms, locking lips with him, putting everything she felt into the kiss. But he surprised her by kissing the breath out of her. When she was weak as a kitten, he brushed a knuckle across her cheek and winked at her before sprinting back onto the field to rejoin the game.
“So,” Mike said as she walked back over, “I just have to ask: Are you sure you know what you’re getting into?”
Grace considered his question for a moment before answering, “Absolutely. Why?”
The expression on Mike’s face changed from teasing to concerned. “Garahan loves his job as much as I do, maybe more. It’s in his blood.”
“I know. He doesn’t have a girlfriend,” Grace said. “And from what he’s said about his job and the long hours, not much time for one. Are you trying to warn me away?”
Mike waited until she’d sat beside him to answer. “Maybe I’m thinking of warning him to stay away from you.”
Grace couldn’t keep the censure from her voice when she said, “I thought he was your friend.”
Mike grimaced as he shifted his weight. “He’s a brother.”
“Oh.” Mike didn’t have to say the words for her to know he wasn’t ready to approve of her. Maybe when he got to know her better. Changing the subject, she asked, “So, have you two been in the same firehouse long?”
“Since he came on board,” Mike said. “We were lucky to have a man with his experience. His firehouse was one of the busiest in New York. I wonder if he ever did more than eat, sleep, and fight fires.”
Cait came back outside and walked over to the cooler, preparing the ice bag for Mike. When it was ready, she eased it onto Mike’s knee. He smiled at her through gritted teeth.
She hesitated. “Do you want Jack to look at it?”
Mike shook his head. “It’s an old injury, flares up now and again.”
Grace got him a glass of water and some aspirin. Despite the fact that he didn’t think she was the right woman for his friend, she couldn’t fault him for that. She’d been in his shoes with Kate more than once over the years. “After you take this, you’re sticking to water or switching to soda—no more beer.” She wasn’t about to take no for an answer.
Her father and Mary walked around the front of the house with the twins tagging along behind. Jack walked over as Joe was asking what happened. His son-in-law’s shrug said more than words.
“I can’t believe you kicked him, Doc.”
“Hey,” Jack said, raising his hands in the air. “I was going for the ball—not his knee.”
“From the side,” Mike said. “He missed.”
“Ah,” her father said. “Old sports injury?” Mike nodded. “Gracie, there’s pain reliever—”
“Already gave it to him.”
“No more beer.” Jack frowned, watching the way Mike shifted on the bench. “You might need an X-ray.”
“This from the man responsible,” Mike quipped.
The others walked over and huddled around the injured man. “We taking a break?” Sledge asked.
“Is the game over?” Jimmy wanted to know.
Bear and Finney muscled their way through the crowd to squat next to Mike’s knee. Neither one was smiling.
“Not much fun without Mike trying to take everybody out,” Bear said.
“Hey, I was only trying to take the ball away from Jack, well, and then Doyle—”
“Yeah, yeah,” Pat said. “You know what they say about payback.”
Mike hung his head. “I guess I had it coming.”
“Let me wash up and get my bag.” Jack didn’t wait for a response; he sprinted up the steps, slamming the door behind him.
“One of these days, I’ll get a real door that will stay closed when you shut it,” Joe grumbled.
“I like the screen door,” Mary said. “It suits the house. Besides,” she continued, “new isn’t always better.”
“Hey, Grace!” Timmy McCormack swiped the sweat dripping into his eyes. “Heard from my cousin that you’re back in town. Katie’s really missed you.”
“She’s too busy at the diner to miss me.”
Timmy was shaking his head as Tommy Hawkins tossed him a beer.
Dan stuck his hand out and snagged the beer midair. “Your mom would have my hide—no beer for you until you’re legal.”
“Come on, Coach,” Timmy groaned. “I drank all the time out at school.”
“That was then; this is now. I’m responsible for you three as long as you’re with me.”
“We drove,” Hawkins reminded him.
“You’re twenty-one”—Dan narrowed his gaze at his former students—“and only having one—as long as you’re staying to eat.”
“Damn, Coach,” Doyle grumbled. “His birthday’s next week.”
Dan grinned. “And I’ll buy him his first beer at Slater’s Mill, just like I did for you and Hawkins.”
The boys shrugged and tossed Timmy a soda. “Guess you’ll have to deal,” Doyle told him.
Jack grinned. “My brother-in-law’s a hard-ass, but he’s right.” He set his bag on the ground and squatted down to examine the damage to Mike’s knee. Dan and Pat passed around cold bottles of beer and the bowl of chips while they waited for Jack to finish.
“You cannot be on active duty with your knee like that,” Bear reminded him.
The other firefighters agreed, and Patrick said, “You’d better call Big Jim now, so he can move people around and we can start filling your shifts.”
Mike leaned back and closed his eyes. “My next one is tonight.”
“With me,” Pat added.
Grace wondered what the next two weeks would be like if Pat would be filling in for Mike. “Do you have more than one person to cover open shifts?”
Pat nodded. “And there’s a set number of hours you can work. Big Jim’s careful not to overwork his men. We’re the best of the best.” She noticed Patrick was smiling and could hear the pride in his voice when he said, “Nobody’s beat our record in the firefighter Olympics yet.”
“You have games?”
“Yeah,” Mike answered. “Because different towns host the games every year, they aren’t always held the same weekend or month.”
“When are they this year?”
“The first weekend in August.”
“You’ll be back to work long before then,” Jack reassured him.
“Hey, Grace,” Mike said, “wanna go with me?”
Pat thumped Mike on the head as he walked past him to join his friends on the field. “Go find your own woman,” he warned.
Mike looked at Meg and then Cait. “But they’re all taken.”
To keep from laughing at the sad look on Mike’s face—and the reason for it—Grace sought out Patrick in the group of men talking. The cutoffs he’d
worn to play soccer were ragged and hit his leg midthigh, leaving a lot of exposed bronzed skin and a fair amount of scars along one leg that wrapped around to the back of his knee.
“Do you need us to drive him to the hospital for an X-ray?” Pat asked. When he noticed the direction of Grace’s gaze he said, “Not job related. I earned those when I got pushed out of our tree house.”
Incredulous, she asked, “Did you say earned them?”
“Yep.” He slipped away from the group and walked toward her. “Half the scars on my body are from growing up second in line of seven kids.”
What could she possibly say to that? “We, um, didn’t fight much as kids.”
His grin was quick and lethal to her heart, and from the expression on his face, he knew the power of his smile. “That’s ’cause you’re a girl and you only had sisters.”
Grace had a snappy comeback about his sexist comment but decided to let it go for now. Why spoil a good thing? Right now, what they had going was definitely great. “If you wash up, you can help me serve the meatball sandwiches.” She was already in the kitchen, washing her hands in the sink when he started to nudge her aside with his hip.
“Oh no. Men as dirty as you have to wash up in the bathroom.”
“Seriously?”
“Ask Pop if you don’t believe me.”
“Ask me what?” Her father ushered the twins inside and down the hallway.
“Only Grace can wash up in the kitchen?”
Joe grinned. “The cook calls the shots around these parts. Come on, boys,” he said. “Time to wash up.”
They raced down the hallway after their grandfather, leaving Grace and Patrick alone for another moment.
He leaned close to capture her lips in a kiss just this side of scorching.
“I’d touch you,” he rasped before he eased back, “but my hands are dirty.” He held them up and laughed as he danced down the hallway toward the bathroom.
“Men,” Grace grumbled.
“Can’t live with ’em,” Meg said, walking into the kitchen. “No fun trying to live without ’em.”
“Amen,” Cait said, joining them. “The guys said they’re too dirty to come in and clean up and are asking for special dispensation to gorge on your meatball sandwiches outside—grass, dirt, blood, and all.”
Jack stood on the other side of the screen door, grinning like a loon. “Can we, please, Gracie?” he asked in a high-pitched youthful voice. “Just this once?”
She laughed and shook her head at him. “Go and take care of your patient, and don’t let him have any beer!”
“Too late!” Dan hollered.
“Will you be driving Mike home?” Grace asked, handing Patrick the hot stockpot.
“Not part of my plans for later. Bear and Sledge will make sure he gets home.” Pat took the pot and used his shoulder to open the door. “Besides, we’ve got a date to go for a drive after this.” The look he shot her way was dark, dangerous, and had her heart pumping double time.
Grace couldn’t speak—her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth—so she nodded and followed after him with a huge basket filled with Italian rolls.
***
“This tastes great, Grace,” Mike told her. Everyone agreed.
“I can’t take credit; it’s Kate’s mom’s recipe.”
Timmy shook his head. “It’s Gram’s recipe, but she never follows it, says recipes are a guideline and every cook adds their own special ingredients.”
“McCormack likes to cook,” Doyle teased his friend.
“So?” Timmy asked. “I’ll probably be working over at the diner—and not waiting tables.”
Grace smiled. “Your cousins have been holding down the fort ever since their mom retired. I’m sure they’d appreciate your help.”
“Yeah,” Timmy said. “They wanted me to serve people, but that’s woman’s work. I can cook.”
Cait and Meg were laughing when Grace set down her sandwich and turned to stare at Timmy. “Is that so?” Grace asked. “And where did you hear that?”
Timmy must have realized he’d said something to upset her; he paled and every single one of his freckles stood out. “I, uh, well…that is—”
“Best just to keep eating,” Joe advised. “A wise man never tries to tell a woman what to do.”
The answering rumble of laughter among the men had Grace taking pity on the white-faced young man sitting across from her.
“I’m sorry, Gracie,” he said, using Kate’s nickname for her. “Mom says I talk before I think.”
Grace leaned across the table toward him and asked, “Who should Mulcahys send to your house the next time your furnace stops working or your plumbing springs a leak?”
Timmy looked from Meg to Cait and back to Grace and said, “Just ignore the freckle-faced kid,” earning a nod of approval from Joe.
“I taught my girls everything they know about fixing things, woodworking, plumbing—”
“Too bad they’re all spoken for,” Finney said from his end of the table.
Patrick slid his arm around Grace’s neck and ate one-handed, licking the excess sauce before it had a chance to spill out of the roll. “You should stop at the Apple Grove Diner on your way back to the firehouse—Kate and Peggy are amazing cooks. And Kate’s single.”
Bear leaned toward Sledge and said, “Notice he didn’t say anything about what they looked like.”
Finney grinned. “Maybe we can sweet-talk Peggy into being single. Besides if they can cook—it doesn’t matter what they look like.”
Timmy’s head shot up. “My cousins are real lookers, right, Coach?”
Dan nodded. “Pretty blonde, and curves that go on for—” He ducked as Meg took a swing at his head. “Hey, it’s always best to tell the truth,” he said, snagging her arm and tucking her against his side. “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,” he told Meg, “and I’m beholdin’ a beauty right now.”
Grace watched the fight go out of her oldest sister. The love that shone between Dan and Meg warmed Grace’s heart, but she didn’t get to think about it too long because Sledge and Bear started a heated debate.
When Bear shot to his feet, Grace looked up at the size of him and decided whatever the man wanted to do, she’d let him.
“I said I’m going to the diner,” Sledge said, pushing Bear, but the man didn’t budge.
Patrick leaned close and asked, “Are you going to finish that?”
Grace stared down at the half a sandwich left on her plate and shook her head. “I’m full. You want it?”
He slid his hand along the curve of her shoulder and down the length of her arm to her wrist. His hand expertly slipped to the inside of her wrist and he grinned. “Thinking about me or worried about those two goons?”
Grace had trouble concentrating when his voice dropped to that low seductive rumble. He must have taken her silence as a yes. He lifted her limp hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to one knuckle at a time.
“Maybe we should stay a little longer,” Bear said, nodding toward Patrick.
Sledge nudged Finney, who elbowed Jimmy before saying, “I’m thinking we should ask Grace if she’d like to come to the firehouse and cook for us.”
Grace heard her name, but nothing else because Patrick had turned her hand over and placed a kiss on the center of her palm. Who knew that the palm of one’s hand was an erogenous zone?
“No deal, guys. Grace only comes to the firehouse if I’m there.”
The hard, clipped tone of Patrick’s voice had her looking up to see every one of the Newark firefighters staring at her and smiling.
“What?” she asked, looking at her sisters and realizing everyone had stopped talking. “Maybe we should get the apple pie,” she said, rising to her feet.
“I’ll give you a hand,” Patrick offered.
***
“Five bucks says he proposes by Christmas,” Finney said as the pair walked away.
Jimmy reached into his pocket, whipped out a
ten, and slapped it to the table. “Ten bucks says he caves by Thanksgiving.”
Joe tried not to smile. “That’s my baby girl you’re betting on.”
The five firefighters shook their heads. “We’re betting on Garahan, Mr. Mulcahy,” Finney explained.
“He’s never been so far gone over a woman,” Bear added.
“Not in the four years he’s been with the Newark Fire Department,” Sledge added.
“What about my daughter?” Joe glared at his sons-in-law until they stopped laughing.
Dan was the first to reach into his pocket. “My money’s on Grace. She’s an amazing woman—she just doesn’t realize it. He’ll be proposing, all right.”
Jack stood and reached into his pocket but came up empty. He turned to Cait and held out his hand. She shook her head. “Come on, babe, we’re betting on a sure thing here. Don’t you want your baby sister to be as happy as we are?”
Cait punched him in the shoulder and stood up to reach in her jeans pocket. “If you tell Gracie that I bet money on her and Patrick, I’m moving in with my pop.”
Joe chuckled. “You’re always welcome here, Caitlin.”
“Pop!” Meg said. “Don’t encourage their betting. Come on, boys,” she said to her sons. “Let’s go see if Deidre’s awake.”
“I’m coming too,” Cait said, following her sister.
Joe shook his head. “You men are on dangerous ground. You have no idea what it’s like when one of my darling girls gets her Irish up.”
Finney chuckled. “My ma’s got a tongue that’d clip a hedge when she’s mad.”
Sledge and Bear were watching the back door. “What’s keeping them with the pie?”
Dan and Jack started to laugh until Mary stood up and they both fell silent.
“I’ll go and see if your girls need help.”
Joe waited until she left before standing up and reaching into his pocket. “Twenty bucks says my darling girl captures his heart before the summer’s over.”
There was a good deal of discussion between the men before Finney nodded. “We’ll take that bet.”
Jimmy grumbled, “Who’s gonna keep the money until Thanksgiving?”
“Christmas,” Finney interrupted.
“You’re both wrong,” Joe said. “Labor Day.”
Welcome Back to Apple Grove Page 13
