She claimed her mug, and then took a seat at the table again since she didn’t think she’d survive any more pool lessons tonight. But as she watched Rick joke around with his friends, she ran his words through her head again.
Remind me next time not to agree to that in advance.
Next time.
Chapter Nine
By the time the hockey game rolled around on Saturday, Rick was almost numb with exhaustion. The normal twenty-four-hour shifts didn’t bother him. He could usually get enough sleep to function just fine and he liked having five days to play with. Sometimes he’d cover a tour for somebody else, but he’d been starting to play with the idea of a second job. He just needed to figure out what he wanted to do.
But sometimes the stars were out of alignment or the moon was full or maybe there was something in the water, but they ran their asses off for twenty-four hours and made do with battle naps when and where they could grab them. That had been Friday.
He’d managed to sleep for a few hours in his own bed, but what he really wanted to do was close the room-darkening blinds and hibernate for the entire weekend.
Instead, it was time to go downstairs and see if the Broussards were ready to head to the rink. There were guys from a few different stations playing, since they couldn’t all play, but any firefighters from the representing stations who didn’t show up with a toy better have a good excuse.
As soon as he stepped out onto his deck, he winced. The weather was turning and there was a cold snap in the forecast. Trying not to imagine all the space heater, woodstove and chimney disasters in the city’s future, he made his way down the stairs and walked through their back door.
The second he stepped into the kitchen, he realized he wasn’t as exhausted as he thought. Jessica was in jeans, with her hair in a ponytail and only the lightest touch of makeup on her face. And she was wearing a navy blue sweatshirt that was too big for her, but said Boston Fire across the chest.
He wanted to back her up against the counter and kiss those strawberry-tinted lips until their legs wouldn’t support them anymore and they slid to the tile floor in a tangle of arms and legs.
“Hey, Rick,” Joe said, and Rick jerked his attention to the older man standing in the doorway. “I already put the toys in the trunk. I swear Marie thinks she’s Santa Claus.”
Rick swallowed hard and managed a smile. “It’s all for a good cause. And I see you also got Jess a sweatshirt.”
“Yup. Marie only has the one she wears, but I have two, so I lent her one. People need to know which side she’s on.”
His side, Rick thought. As beat as he’d felt this afternoon, he almost wished he was playing just so he could spot Jess in the crowd, cheering for him and calling his name.
Marie walked into the kitchen wearing a sweatshirt that matched the other two. Rick was wearing his T-shirt with a hoodie over it because he tended to run hot and crew neck sweatshirts drove him crazy. And since he hadn’t totally cooled off yet from the passionate, if imaginary, kiss with Jessica, he was ready to get back outside.
“We need to get going,” he said. “It’s Jess’s first time, so we want good seats.”
And so started a debate between Joe and Marie that lasted all the way to the rink as to what constituted good seats. And since Joe was in the shotgun seat next to Rick and Marie was in the backseat with Jessica, it meant the older man spent a lot of time turned in his seat, yelling past Rick’s ear.
“You sit close and you can hear everything and practically smell the sweat,” Joe said.
“But if you sit near the top, you can see everything,” Marie argued.
“I’d like to see everything,” Jessica said, “but it’s hard to resist the smell of sweat.”
She said it so sincerely, Rick had to choke back a laugh. He didn’t offer an opinion, though. Truth be told, the other guys from the station and their families would have staked out a section already. They’d take the best four seats that were left together.
Getting inside, dropping the bags of toys in the collection box, and making their way to those seats was probably quite the adventure for Jess, though. It didn’t seem as if they could walk ten feet before she had to be introduced to somebody else. When they finally found the guys from his station, though, he was pleasantly surprised by how many of their names she remembered.
He knew she’d met some of them a couple of times—at the station when Marie stopped by, and then at the bar—but the first time had been nothing but a barrage of names, and some of them hadn’t been at Kincaid’s the other night. Remembering names was probably a skill that helped make her good at her job, he thought. It made people feel valued.
Another thing that surprised him was how often he had to stop himself from touching her. He wanted to put his hand on the small of her back to guide her through the crowd. Or lace his fingers through hers when they were talking to people. And maybe if she’d been any other woman, he would have. But whenever the temptation got too strong, he’d remember they were there with Joe and Marie. And they were trying not to do the kissing thing anymore, by mutual agreement.
“Aidan!” he heard her say, and watched her shake the other guy’s hand. “It’s good to see you again.”
Then he watched her greet everybody else, amazingly able to keep them all straight. Aidan was engaged to Lydia, who was Scott’s sister. And their dad, Tommy, was in attendance, as well. And Scott and Lydia’s sister, Ashley, who was married to Danny Walsh. He wondered if she’d made a spreadsheet or something in advance and studied it.
“I had a great time at your bar the other night,” she told Tommy, who grinned at the praise. “And the burger was to die for.”
“I’m glad you liked it,” the old, retired firefighter said, his chest puffing a little. “Heard you played a little pool with the guys.”
Rick hoped that was all he’d heard, but Jess just smiled. “Did you close down to come for the game? It looks like you’re all here.”
“Nope. Karen’s watching the place for us tonight. She’s a friend of Rick’s.”
“We should find some seats,” Rick said before that conversation could go any deeper. “Good to see you, Tommy.”
They finally found an empty stretch of bleacher long enough for the four of them. Rick had assumed Jessica would sit between her grandparents, but Joe went in first, with Marie on his heels. Jessica sat next to her, leaving Rick at her side on the end. It wasn’t a big deal, except for the fact he was going to spend the entire game with his thigh pressed against hers.
“How do you remember everybody’s names?” he asked her while they waited for things to get under way.
“It’s just a knack I have. I tend to remember details about people pretty easily if I’m trying. When I was growing up, I always wanted to be an event planner. Even now, one of my favorite things to do is plan the annual holiday party we throw for our employees and some of our clients. Doing it at a distance isn’t as fun, but I still get to handle the details.”
“How come you didn’t do that, then, if that’s what you wanted to be and you’re good at it?”
She laughed. “My father would never have gone for that. And what’s the point of building a successful business if your only child is organizing baby shower party favors or wedding venues?”
“So you have to live his dream because you’re an only child?”
She gave him a sharp sideways look and he shut his mouth. Luckily, the announcer chose that moment to turn their attention to the ice, and Jessica not only laughed but clapped her hands for the guy dressed as Santa on skates.
As always, the crowd noise rose to earsplitting decibels during the team introductions. The police department’s team skated out first, followed by the fire department. Judging by the explosion of sound when Aidan and Scott were introduced, Lydia and Ashley were sitting not to
o far behind them and off to the left.
Once the game started, it quieted a little, though. He watched the play, but he was also very aware of Jess’s long leg pressed against his. Especially when, about halfway through the game, she tilted the rest of her body toward his to ask a question.
“How come they’re not punching each other?”
Rick leaned closer, because there was no way he could have heard her correctly. “Did you ask me why they’re not punching each other?”
“Yes, or hitting each other with the sticks or something. Except for sometimes pushing each other into the walls, they’re not hitting each other at all.”
So he had heard her correctly. “I have to say, you keep this bloodthirsty side of yourself pretty well hidden.”
“I’ve seen highlights during news broadcasts, of course, and when I found out we were coming here, I read up on hockey on the internet. I thought there would be fighting and blood and stuff.”
“It’s a charity game being played by guys whose calling in life is to help people.”
“Yes, I get that. Protect and serve and all that.” She waved her hand. “But this is hockey. I had expectations.”
He forced himself not to laugh at her, because he didn’t want her to feel foolish. But it was hard when that pretty face seemed so genuinely dismayed by the lack of violence. “Sorry to disappoint you, but the game’s not over yet. There’s still a chance Kincaid could get riled up. He’s got a bit of a temper.”
“Scott and Aidan are both from your station, so how come you didn’t play?” She gave him a slow once-over that would have made his cheeks red if he was the blushing kind. “Not good enough?”
His eyebrow arched and he held her gaze until she proved she was the blushing kind. “Oh, I’m good enough, honey. Trust me.”
“Don’t call me honey.”
“Don’t question my manhood.”
She really blushed then. “I didn’t question your...manhood. I questioned your ability to play hockey.”
“Same thing.”
“What an incredibly guy thing to say.”
“Thank you.”
She turned her attention back to the ice with an exasperated sigh, and he had to stifle a chuckle. When he nudged her knee with his, she crossed her arms and tilted her chin a little, so it was clear she was ignoring him. But a smile played with the corner of her mouth and that was good enough.
He might have been tired earlier in the day but now, as far as he was concerned, this game could go on all night.
* * *
Jessica couldn’t remember enjoying an event as much as she enjoyed the hockey game. Of course it didn’t hurt that the fire department won and the crowd had managed to set a new record for tickets sold and the number of toys collected for charity.
She probably shouldn’t have had a steamed hot dog, though. Or the nachos. Or the popcorn or the cotton candy. And she didn’t even want to think about how much soda she’d had. But as best she could tell, questionable food choices and sports were a package deal.
When it was time to leave, she stood and put her hands to her back to stretch. She had no idea how Joe and Marie managed to sit on the bleachers for so long, but maybe they were just used to it. And her leg felt cold without the constant hot pressure of Rick’s thigh against hers. At first, she’d felt compelled to draw her knee away to give him more space and to save herself from the distraction, but there simply hadn’t been enough room.
When the crowd they were being swept along with finally got through the exit, the cold night air was like a slap in Jessica’s face. It hadn’t been cold when they left the house and she had a shirt on under the sweatshirt, so she hadn’t bothered with a coat.
“I’ll go get the car,” Rick told Joe and Marie, who were chatting with friends on the sidewalk. “Save you the walk. And it’ll take a bit in this traffic, so you’ll have time to visit.”
“Take Jessica with you,” Marie said. “I can tell she’s already freezing.”
While she wanted to protest and try to at least pretend she could hang with the native New Englanders, the idea of a warm car and a nicely contoured seat was too much temptation to resist. She walked up the street next to Rick, trying to remember how far away the car was parked and hoping they got there before she embarrassed him by freezing to death in the midst of a bunch of people who didn’t even look cold.
Then she stepped in a shallow puddle. Or rather, she stepped onto it. Her foot slipped on the ice and she would have landed hard on her ass if not for Rick’s quick reflexes. In a flash, his arm was looped under hers and he yanked her upright before she could actually fall. It wasn’t comfortable, but it was better than a busted tailbone.
“Thanks. I guess I should add ice being slippery to my journal of things I learned in Boston.”
“I can throw you over my shoulder if you want. I’ve had professional training.”
She gave him a look that might have scorched that fancy fire coat he wore. “Do they give classes on being a caveman at the fire academy?”
“That part just comes naturally to some of us. But they have to teach us how to lift with our legs and not with our backs, I guess.”
This was ridiculous. Jessica was freezing, and now Rick had threatened to throw her over his shoulder.
Okay, that wasn’t really fair, she forced herself to admit. He’d offered to throw her over his shoulder. A small distinction, but one he’d probably consider an important one. “I think I can manage on my feet, thank you.”
“Let me know if you change your mind. Practice keeps the skills sharp.”
She realized they’d continued on walking, and his arm was still tucked under hers, with his hand curled around her elbow. Whether he was afraid she’d slip on ice or if he just liked it there, she couldn’t be sure. But she certainly didn’t mind it, so she just kept walking.
“Did you have a good time tonight?”
“I definitely did, though I ate a lot of foods I don’t think were meant to go together.”
“Any food eaten while watching sports is exempt from any kind of nutritional standards.” He smiled at her, his teeth gleaming in the dim light. “Especially if you’re actually at the arena or stadium in person. Ask any sports fan.”
“I should watch a game on TV. With professional hockey players, I mean.”
“Just so you know, there’s not always fighting and blood in professional hockey, either.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Not for the fighting. I had a really good time tonight and I think I could become a fan.”
“It’s too bad you’re not staying longer. I could probably get Bruins tickets.”
“I’m not sure which team I’m supposed to root for. I think I’ve heard the news talk about Ducks. Does that sound right?”
His expression made it clear he didn’t think much of that. “You’ve gotta be a Boston Bruins fan. Your family’s from here. This is where you were introduced to hockey. And why have a duck when you can have a bear?”
“There probably aren’t many Bruins fans in San Diego.”
“That just makes you exceptional in a city with very little taste.”
She laughed and bumped against him, taking him off guard and knocking him a couple of steps sideways. Since his arm was hooked in hers, she went with him. He nudged her back and she was tempted to rest her head against his arm as they walked. It was nice, just the two of them.
But then she saw the car and it brought reality back. This wasn’t a date. It was a family outing planned before she’d even arrived. And they’d agreed they weren’t going to kiss anymore, so there would be no kiss good-night.
Once she was in the car and the engine started generating enough heat to spare some for the vents, Jessica sighed and snuggled into the comfort. Considering how many people had told
her it wasn’t even cold yet and she should experience January and February, she should probably be thankful she was going home soon.
“The Bruins play Monday night,” Rick said as he worked the car through the traffic toward where they’d left Joe and Marie. “I’ll be watching it if you want to come up and watch it with me.”
Okay, that sounded almost like a date. “You don’t watch the games with Joe?”
He shook his head. “He follows the Bruins box scores and he likes the charity games, like tonight, but he doesn’t watch many of the games until postseason. He’s more of a baseball guy.”
“Okay.” She probably should have said no, but that wasn’t what came out of her mouth. “I’ll bring some junk food.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
A plan. Not a date. Just a plan, like friends would make. But it was a plan she was already looking forward to.
Chapter Ten
On Sunday afternoon, Rick glanced out his window and happened to notice the side door to the garage was open. Since he was too bored to watch television, but not bored enough to reach out to his friends and see if anybody was doing anything interesting, he decided he’d take a walk down and see what Joe was up to.
Rick found him in front of the work bench along the back wall of the garage, rummaging through one of the many chock-full drawers in the various storage towers and toolboxes. “Hey, Joe. Looking for something specific?”
“No, just looking. When did I accumulate all this junk?”
Rick shook his head. “Before I got here, although I’ve probably helped contribute to the collection since I moved in.”
“Why would I ever think I needed to save some of this?” He held up a bolt that had seen better days, judging by the fact the nut screwed onto it looked rusted right to the threads.
“You never know what you might need.” Rick was pretty sure it was just a guy thing. He’d never met a garage-owning man yet who didn’t have jars and coffee cans full of miscellaneous metal things. “Soak it in some oil and it’ll work just fine.”
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