Chiseled - A Standalone Romance (A Super Sexy Western Romance)

by Naomi Niles

  Dad shoved his hands into his pockets, a grumpy look on his face. He was disappointed that Sean had made the grade. Dad was rather upside down in his thinking. When they were new, he wanted them to be really raw, really needing his training and wisdom. Then, when they could make the grade, he had something to take credit for. It was that sergeant in him.

  Sean, it appeared, didn’t need very much supervision or improvement. In fact, I ventured to gamble that he could outclimb, outrun and probably outlast any of the guys already in Dad’s station. This was not going to make him very popular. Since he’d be bunking for days at a time with his coworkers, I hoped he had the sense to downplay his skill. Otherwise, he was going to be the focus of every rotten prank and stupid joke they could think of. He was about to go through fireman initiation. I had heard stories from Dad about what that involved, although officially he had to turn his head and pretend he knew nothing about it. They could get pretty rank at times.

  I wondered momentarily whether I should interview some of the guys to get some of the better stories from the past. That could make for some good filler if I ran short of words. I’d have to ask Dad’s permission, of course, just like I agreed. I knew it was going to be important to appear as though I was doing what Dad asked. Therefore, for the really insignificant stuff, I would ask his permission loudly. When it came to the really gritty stuff that I knew would thrill the readers, I might not be so quick to ask Dad in advance. I think Dad pretty much expected that from me; it was a pattern I’d had set years before.

  Sean was trotting toward us now. He had a big, shit-eating grin on his face and he knew he had made the grade. Dad just waved him off, frowned, and motioned for me to get back in his car. Sean watched us pull away. I was glad he had sense not to spill the beans on me to Dad. He might just make it through initiation after all.

  CHAPTER 3

  Having gotten permission from Dad to talk to a few of the fellows, I made my way to the rec room as soon as we got back to the station house. I announced in a loud voice that I was now an official reporter and I wanted to do a little write up about their bravery and what it was like to live in the fraternal atmosphere that was a New York City firehouse. I told them I especially wanted to hear stories about the pranks they had played on one another. They were only too happy to oblige. Dad ignored me and went back in his office, and seemed to do some paperwork.

  I had just finished my first interview when the bell sounded and the men scrambled as though they themselves were on fire. I stood back, my back against the wall so that I was out of the way. In a matter of seconds, I heard the big door go up and the siren kick into action. The men were clambering aboard as the wheels had already begun to roll. They had just cleared the station house garage when Sean ran inside. He realized they’d left him behind and he was frowning. Perhaps he didn’t understand that he wouldn’t be ready to go until Dad had given the seal of approval. I could see he was disappointed. I sauntered over toward him casually to have a little talk.

  “So, you looked pretty good up there. I think Dad was a little disappointed even.”

  “Disappointed? Wasn’t I fast enough?” His face had that Midwest innocence on it and I sort of felt sorry for what was ahead of him. The guys would tear this one apart.

  “Oh, no, you are plenty fast enough. Dad sort of likes it when the guys are not in good shape at the beginning. He used to be in the Marines, you know. A drill sergeant, as a matter of fact. He likes giving orders.”

  “And you? Does he give orders to you?” He had a sort of wry smile, and for the first time I noticed he had a dimple in the cleft of his chin. Again, I wanted to swoon.

  “He thinks he does. I make a big show of asking him and he makes a big show of telling me what to do. Then we both go our separate ways, knowing full well that I’m going to do what I wanted to in the first place. We worked that out over the years and it seems to keep both of us happy.”

  “And your mother?”

  “Mom is dead. Cancer. A few years ago, but Dad acts like it was yesterday. He’s full of bluff and bluster, and if he tells you what to do, I suggest you do it. You won’t get away with what I do. But inside, he’s a marshmallow. He has seen a lot of things in his years with the department. He has saved a lot of lives personally. He deserves respect.”

  “Absolutely,” Sean nodded and replied. “That’s why I’m here. This has got to be the toughest firefighting job in the world. I want to be a part of it.”

  “Well, looks like you got your wish. Dad looked pretty grumpy, which means you must’ve done a damn fine job. So, now that you do have a job, where are you going to be stay?”

  “Not sure. I sort of used up my funds getting here. I was hoping maybe they had a spare bunk I could crash in until I get a few paychecks in the bank.”

  “No way. It’s against the rules. Something about balance in your life keeps you sane. They won’t let any guy work beyond his normal shifts. So you need to find some place to stay, is that right?”

  He shrugged. “I guess so. Any suggestions?”

  I nodded, as though considering his predicament. I took my time, even frowning a bit so it looked like it was giving it extensive thought. “You know, I’ve got an idea.”

  “Oh? What’s that?”

  “Well, it just so happens that for the heck of it, I bought an old firehouse not far from here. It was retired a few years ago and the city put it up for sale. I snagged it at an auction and have been working at breaking it into apartments ever since. I’m not very handy with a hammer, so I’ve had to pay everything out of pocket. You know anything about hammers?”

  I pretended to be a little nonchalant. I didn’t want him to get the idea that I was making a pass at him; he was going to be hard enough to snag without an ego twice the size of his head.

  “Oh, I’ve swung one or two in my time,” he was saying, obviously being just as nonchalant. “What did you have in mind?”

  “What about a swap? You come over and we will set you up a bunk downstairs. I live upstairs. Completely separate quarters, locked doors. When you’re off shift, you can do some remodeling to earn your keep. Nothing out of your pocket. It keeps you in shape, I get my apartments. Everybody’s happy. What you think?”

  “Well… I will admit I’m a little short on funds at the moment. And now I have a car to fix…” he said, a subtle grin lighting that handsome face. “I suppose we could see how it would work out. Heaven knows I have nowhere to go tonight. How soon can I move in?”

  “Two rules. The first is I live upstairs and you live downstairs; no switching things up. Rule number two: my father does not learn about this. He would have me walloped if he knew. He has always kept me away from his crew, and for good reason.”

  “It’s a deal. I agree to your terms. When do we go?”

  “Follow me.” I started walking out the door. I turned to see if he was following, but he was looking around as though puzzled about what to do next. I called to him, “If you follow me, at least you won’t get hit in the rear end.”

  He nodded in agreement and caught up with me. I gave him my address just in case we got separated. “It’s an old firehouse; you can’t miss it.”

  * * *

  “Well, I see you made it.” I was standing in one of the garage bays waiting for him. “Nice thing about this place is there’s plenty of parking. Just pull around to the back and choose a spot. Eventually, when I have tenants, I’ll parcel them out to the various apartments.”

  He gave a short wave of his hand, nodded, and drove around to the back. I saw his marred bumper as he passed by and I made a mental note that I would have it fixed. The guy was broke, and there was no reason that he should suffer a loss just because he was a decent guy.

  Sean entered the bay and I hit the button to lower the door.

  “It’s going to snow at any moment. I’ve been keeping the heat pretty low down here since it’s just empty space. Now that you’re here, we’ll crank it up so you’ll be more comfortable. Have
you had anything to eat?”

  “Nope. Not yet. I was going to grab something after I got my gear in here.”

  “Tell you what: get your gear and I was just headed upstairs to throw together a taco salad. I’ve got plenty for two and I’ll leave my door unlocked. Come on up and let’s celebrate your new job.”

  “That’s pretty generous of you. Are you hoping I’ll overlook the bumper?” he winked at me. Those gorgeous, blue eyes danced and the dimple in his chin appeared. I thought I had died and gone to heaven.

  “You can forget about the bumper, if you want to, but I’d rather repair it for you. You saved my tail by not telling my dad. The meal is just because I’d like to invite you to dinner. It’s that simple.”

  He turned his head at an angle and looked at me carefully. “You know, I sort of like you. I didn’t think I’d find anyone who was just dead honest here; not New York City.”

  “Oh, we’ve sent all the liars over to Jersey. Go on, get your gear and I’ll see you upstairs when you’re done.”

  Chapter 4

  I trotted upstairs as quickly as I could. All I could think of was my dirty laundry I’d thrown on the floor in the bathroom that morning. I needed to get it out of sight, and quickly. I had been in a hurry, wanting to get to my interview. I had two hands full when I heard his voice behind me.

  “A little last-minute housekeeping?” The dimple was there again.

  “Okay, you caught me. I was in a hurry to get to my job interview this morning. Don’t tell me you’ve never left a mess behind.”

  He held both hands up waist high, the palms floating toward the floor. “Okay, okay, settle down. I wasn’t being critical, was just teasing you. So, you had a job interview today, too?”

  I nodded, pushing the rest of my clothes with my foot behind the hamper. “Sure did. You’re looking at a brand-spanking-new reporter.”

  “No kidding. Now there’s a coincidence. My folks used to run a small weekly back in Iowa. Spent a lot of time there as a kid. What made you choose that?”

  “You know, I can’t really put it into words, no pun intended. My dad taught me to have respect for people; old or young, rich or poor. There’s a part of me that wants to keep the voice of the underdog alive, to tell his or her story. We all need to be heard. Then, there’s the other side of me that is a bit of a rebel. My dad’s pretty strict; I guess you figured that out. He couldn’t be as strict with me as he wanted to because I was a girl. But he was still pretty tough on me. Dad didn’t want me to become a journalist. He wanted me to have a nice, ladylike job, such as a nurse or a schoolteacher. So, the first thing I did was go out and choose a career that would annoy him. Dad has always avoided the press and considered them pretty much a waste of a perfectly good education. Dad is used to taking and giving orders; he never explores the reasons why. There… now you have it. Why don’t we go into the living room so I can get dinner started?”

  Sean nodded in a way that told me he respected what I had said. “Can I help?”

  “No, I’ve got it. Consider this your day off. Go on over and pick something on the TV. Starting tomorrow, you’re going to be picking up that hammer, remember?”

  “Not a problem.”

  The upstairs apartment where I was living had an open floor plan. It used to be the sleeping and eating quarters for the firemen who stayed there. So, when I moved in, I just left it the way it was. I sold the bunks on Craigslist but kept the rest of it pretty much the same. The kitchen and living areas were divided by a counter where you could sit and eat while you watched television. I liked efficiency; I was never one for clutter. This suited me just fine.

  “How long have you lived here?” Sean was looking around, studying the pictures of the old days when the firehouse was still in use. “Wow. Look at that equipment. It’s a wonder they put the fire out in a one-story house with just that.”

  “Isn’t it? I just love this old place. It has so much character; so many stories began and ended here. Maybe that’s why it appeals to me; I like characters and I like their stories.”

  “I get that. I’m sort of the same way, except I’m not a writer. I want to help people, too, and that’s why I’m here. There were a lot of jobs for firemen between here and Iowa, believe me. But I thought if I came to New York City, I would learn more about people who come from different places around the world. Their stories would be new, interesting, and completely different from anything I have heard or been around before. I think that I’ve grown up fairly privileged because I lived in a safe place, had two parents, went to a good school, and had plenty to eat. Not everybody is so lucky. I hope I can help a few of them.”

  “I don’t mean to be a pessimist, but the city can be a pretty rough place.” I was chopping lettuce and the beef was browning in the pan behind me on the stove. “You’ll never be able to help everyone here. There’s just too many people and too many troubles. I admire you for wanting to give it a shot, though. I suppose it takes a pebble to make a ripple, and that’s enough to begin a wave.”

  “I like the way you think.” He was not being condescending or making a joke at my expense; he was completely sincere and I could see it in those gorgeous, blue eyes.

  “I like the way you look,” I blurted out and was immediately mortified. What had made me say such a thing?

  He chuckled. “Why, thank you. I don’t think I’ve ever been so charmed as I am right now. I happen to like the way you look, too.”

  I turned quickly to stir the beef, desperately trying to settle an awkward moment. I could be such an idiot sometimes. The beef was done and I pulled two, large bowls from the cupboard, lining them with tortilla chips and adding layers of beef, refried beans, green onion, cheese, and lettuce, and topped it all with sour cream and salsa. “Come and get it,” I said, holding the bowl out toward him and then placing it on the counter where he could retrieve it.

  We sat side by side on the sofa, only because that was the only place to sit. We each sat crisscross, a bowl in our left hand and a fork in our right. I hadn’t gotten cable installed yet, so the only thing I could pick up was Jeopardy.

  We took turns shouting questions for the game answers. Some of our questions were pretty off the wall and we came close to choking once or twice as we laughed. I was having a ball. I couldn’t remember spending time with a guy and having that much fun. I never thought of guys and fun in the same sentence. Well, maybe they had fun, but I just continued to think of them as someone who wanted to get into my pants. Ironically, there I was, wanting someone to get into my pants and he appeared to be the consummate gentleman. Damn those mothers in Iowa!

  Sean finished his salad and my bowl was already sitting on the coffee table. He picked it up and just as if he had lived there forever, carried it with his own into the kitchen and washed them out in the sink. “Are you already trying for a raise?” I teased him from my perch on the sofa.

  “Would it work?”

  “No way.”

  “Then I’m not. Listen, I have to be at the station house at seven. I think I’ll be probably back by six in the evening. What did you want me to get started on first?”

  Of course I knew the answer to that, but that was not what he was hired to do. I improvised. “If you don’t mind, why don’t you take some measurements of the square footage and maybe make some rough drawings about how we could divide it into three or four small apartments. Take into consideration things like the wet wall and access to the street or back parking. I’m pretty sure you know what you’re doing.” These last words were said with absolute certainty.

  I knew there was one problem with his staying there: eventually I would want to move away from being his landlord and jump his bones. That would be breaking my own rule, first of all, and secondly, it could muck up the whole thing and he’d take off on me. Then there was my dad to consider; he wasn’t going to be happy if he found out about this relationship. Platonic as it might have been, Dad knew what men and women did when they got together. He would jum
p to the worst conclusion and Sean would probably get fired. This was a bridge that would have to be crossed very cautiously.

  “Sounds good to me. I’ll be heading downstairs now. See you sometime tomorrow.” With that, he saluted me jauntily and locked the door behind himself as he left.

  The room felt almost claustrophobic suddenly. It was his, as if he had taken the air with him. Listlessly, I used the remote to surf back and forth between the two channels I could get. I wanted to go down and talk with him more, maybe play a game of cards, or even better yet, offer to share my bed. I had no idea what was wrong with me. I’d never had these kinds of thoughts before. Had I started a new chapter of my life simply because I was out of school and now had a job of my own? Or was it all due to Sean Delaney and those gorgeous, blue eyes?

  Chapter 5

  I heard the door shut when Sean left the next morning. I rolled out of my warm bed and into a semi-hot shower. “This is one thing that’s going on his list,” I said to myself aloud. “I would like, just one time, to have a hot shower.”

  After dressing and a quick breakfast, I popped open my laptop and began writing. I was working on the piece about the life of a firefighter when my phone buzzed. “Hello?”

  John Warner was on the line. “Where the hell are you?”

  “I’m working; what do you mean?”

  “You’re supposed to be here in the office.”

  “I am? I thought I was supposed to be writing. I don’t need to come into the office to do that. I’m pretty much portable, you know?”