Perfect for You (Short Story) (Fire and Icing)

by Evans, Jessie

  Other sexy, contemporary romances by Jessie Evans

  The Summerville Novels

  Always a Bridesmaid Series

  BETTING ON YOU (Always a Bridesmaid Book One)

  KEEPING YOU (Always a Bridesmaid Book Two)

  WILD FOR YOU (Always a Bridesmaid Book Three)

  CATCHING YOU (Always a Bridesmaid Four-Short Story)

  TAKING YOU (Always a Bridesmaid Five-Novella/Short Novel)

  Fire and Icing Series

  MELT WITH YOU (Fire and Icing Book One)

  HOT FOR YOU (Fire and Icing Book Two)

  SWEET TO YOU (Fire and Icing Book Three)

  PERFECT FOR YOU (Fire and Icing Book Four-Short Story)

  SAVING YOU (Fire and Icing Book Five-Novella/Short Novel)

  Cupid Island Novellas (Short Novels)

  AUDITIONING YOU (Cupid Island Two)

  A Cupid Island Christmas Anthology by Jessie Evans, Lila Ashe, and Ruby Laska

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  Or keep reading to enjoy an excerpt of SAVING YOU, the final book in the Fire and Icing series.

  About the Author

  Jessie Evans gave up a career as an international woman of mystery (and traditionally published author) to write the sexy, contemporary Southern romances she had always wanted to read.

  She's married to the man of her dreams, and together they're raising a few adorable, mischievous children in a tree house in the boonies. She grew up in rural Arkansas, spending summers running wild, being chewed by chiggers, and now appreciates her home in a chigger-free part of the world even more.

  When she's not writing, Jessie enjoys playing her dulcimer (badly), sewing the worlds ugliest quilts to give to her friends, going for bike rides with her house full of boys, and wandering through the woods, glass of wine and camera in hand, on the lookout for Bigfoot.

  A southern girl, born and bred, Jessie loves writing Southern romances with just the right amount of sizzle, and hopes you'll enjoy her stories set in the fictional town of Summerville, Georgia.

  Please enjoy this excerpt from SAVING YOU, by Jessie Evans, the fifth and final book in the Fire and Icing Series:

  SAVING YOU

  The bells tinkled and seconds later, a very drippy figure in a Summerville Fire Department raincoat stepped inside the bakery.

  “It’s really coming down out there,” the man said as he slid his hood off, revealing a dark blond buzz cut and blue-gray eyes set in a no-nonsense face.

  Brandon Nordstrom was one of the newest members of the SFD, but he was every bit as serious as his Captain, Jake Hanson. He was a six-foot, one-inch alpha male with broad shoulders, a sharp nose, and earnest manliness practically oozing from his pores.

  In short, he was the polar opposite of every man Lucy had ever dated. She tended toward artists and musicians, men who were as in touch with their feelings as their physical bodies and made a living with their brains, not their brawn. But Brandon was good people, and he couldn’t help not being Lucy’s favorite firefighter.

  Jamison Hansen—the youngest Hansen brother, and her boss, Maddie’s, fiancé—was Lucy’s firefighter spirit animal. Not in a romantic way, of course, but she appreciated Jamison’s enthusiasm for life, the way he wasn’t afraid to wear his heart on his sleeve and always found something to laugh about.

  Laughter was precious. After the things she’d witnessed working for the Atlanta P.D. and the loss she’d suffered last year, Lucy believed that with a ferocity matched only by her belief that animal testing was an abomination, and the melting polar ice caps the biggest threat facing mankind.

  “Would you rather I stay here by the door?” Brandon asked, running a hand over his face, wiping away the raindrops clinging to his nose. “I don’t want to track water everywhere.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Lucy said, rising and claiming her coffee mug before moving behind the counter. “I’ll get out the mop and keep it by the door. I’ll be mopping up all day, anyway. What can I get you guys this morning?”

  Brandon wandered over to the counter. “Just the usual. Half a dozen chocolate croissants, half a dozen plain, and a loaf of sourdough bread if you’ve got it.”

  “We do,” Lucy said, turning to snag the still-warm loaf from the basket behind her. “Fresh out of the oven.”

  “Great,” Brandon said. “That’s my favorite. I toast a slice with almond butter.”

  Lucy nodded absent-mindedly as she filled a pink bakery box with croissants. “That sounds good.”

  “It is,” Brandon said, shooting her a strange look as she set the box behind the bread and pushed them both across the counter. “Are you okay?”

  Lucy blinked. “Yeah. Fine, I…just woke up with a weird feeling today.”

  Brandon nodded. “I get that sometimes. Especially when it’s raining. Hard to keep your spirits up when the sky is peeing all over them.”

  Lucy’s lips twitched. Under normal circumstances she would have laughed, but she wasn’t in the mood. A bad feeling was bad enough, but a weird psychic premonition she couldn’t pin down a reason for was plain awful.

  “Is there anything I can do?” Brandon asked, gentleness in his tone that Lucy hadn’t noticed from Mr. Earnest and Manly before.

  She met his eyes, surprised to find herself saying, “I think I may be broken.”

  Brandon frowned. “In what way?”

  “I’m psychic,” Lucy said, ignoring Brandon’s raised brows the way she’d ignored every Doubting Thomas she’d encountered since she was a little girl. “I have been since I was a kid. Usually if I get a bad feeling, it isn’t long before I know the reason for it. Or at least have a hunch, you know?”

  Brandon slowly shook his head. “Um…”

  “But today I searched for a reason and I couldn’t find anything,” Lucy pressed on, needing to talk to someone before the bad feeling ate away her stomach lining. “I’ve been trying so hard to shut off that part of myself, but maybe…” She twined her fingers together on top of the counter. “Maybe I tried too hard, and now…I’m broken.”

  Brandon let out a long, measured breath. “You confuse me sometimes, Lucy.”

  Lucy sighed. “Thanks.”

  “But I like you,” Brandon said with a smile. “And I know what it’s like to get down in the dumps, so…if you ever need someone to talk to, I’m right across the street.”

  Lucy cocked her head, studying Brandon, reading the genuine concern in his pale eyes. “You lost someone?” she asked. “To depression?”

  Brandon’s eyes opened a little wider. “Yeah…I did. The year before high school.”

  “I didn’t read your mind,” Lucy said, rushing to reassure him. “That wasn’t being psychic, just perceptive. I’m sorry for your loss, whoever it was.”

  Brandon nodded, the muscle in his jaw leaping. “Thanks.”

  “But I’m not depressed, don’t worry,” Lucy said, feeling for the guy, and hoping she could put his mind at ease. “And I’m not crazy, either. There are just more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”

  Brandon’s eyes narrowed. “Shakespeare?”

  “Yeah,” Lucy said, surprised. “Hamlet.”

  “We studied that in high school,” Brandon said. “Wasn’t really my thing.”

  “Mine either,” Lucy said. “I just like the quote. My Gram cross-stitched it on a pillow for me when I was little. She always told me that God made us this way and God doesn’t make mistakes. Some people say being psychic goes against the church, but I’ve only ever used what I can do to help people.” Lucy paused, screwing up her nose before she confessed, “Except that one time I used it to bet on a horse so I could pay my electric bill, but I felt guilty about it after.”

  Brandon shot her a bemused smile. “Then why were you trying to turn it off? If you use it to help people?”

>   Lucy swallowed. “I needed a break. Just for a little while. But I didn’t want it to go away forever.”

  Brandon shrugged. “Well…maybe it’s like working out. Maybe you need some time to get back in top condition. If I quit lifting for a week, I can’t jump right back in where I left off, you know.”

  “Maybe…” Lucy nodded, mildly cheered. “That’s a thought.”

  “I have those sometimes,” Brandon said, making Lucy chuckle when she realized he’d made a joke.

  She looked up at him, seeing him through a different lens. “Thanks, Brandon. It was really nice talking to you this morning.”

  “You too,” he said, eyes dropping to the pink box and bread on the counter between them before his gaze returned to Lucy. “So…think you might want to talk again some time? Maybe over pizza or something?”

  Lucy stared at him for a long moment before the meaning of his words penetrated. It had been so long since she’d been asked out on a date, she’d almost forgotten the warning signs.

  “Oh,” she said, blinking fast, not sure what else to say. “Um…I…I don’t know, Brandon. I think I’m a lot older than you are.”

  Brandon’s brows drew together. “Doubt it. I’m twenty-one.”

  “I’m twenty-seven,” Lucy said, accustomed to people thinking she was younger than she actually was. It was a hazard of being five-two, on the scrawny side, and preferring to wear one’s hair in pigtails.

  Brandon shrugged. “That’s only six years. Doesn’t seem like such a big deal.”

  “But you think I’m crazy,” Lucy said.

  “No, I don’t,” Brandon said, smiling. “You’re different. But in a good way. An interesting way. I’ve never met anyone like you before.”

  “And I’ve never been out on a date with anyone like you,” Lucy said. “I’m more into beta males.”

  Brandon frowned. “Beta males? Like…feminine guys?”

  “Sort of,” Lucy said. “Guys who aren’t afraid of their emotions. Guys who don’t mind letting a woman take the lead if she’s more qualified or in the mood to be the boss on a given day. Guys who aren’t a full foot taller than I am.”

  Brandon frowned harder. “You’re discriminating against me because of my age and height. Isn’t that illegal?”

  “I’m not discriminating,” Lucy said, vaguely troubled by the notion that she was, whether she liked to admit it or not. “And besides, I’m not an employer, I’m a girl, and all’s fair in love and war.”

  Brandon sighed, nodding as he grabbed the bread and pink box and tucked them inside his coat to stay dry. “Gotcha. Forget I asked.”

  “I’m sorry,” Lucy called after him as he stomped toward the door, feeling awful for hurting his feelings. “I’m not myself this morning. I didn’t mean to—”

  The door closed behind him, cutting off Lucy’s apology. She watched Brandon run through the rain to the firehouse across the street with a miserable feeling in her stomach. But this time, the misery had nothing to do with psychic phenomenon.

  It was the feeling a girl gets when she realizes she’s let a perfectly decent guy—a guy with hidden depths, a sweet smile, and eyes that seemed to be searching for answers, even if they aren’t the answers he expects to find—slip through her fingers.

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