Charmed by Chase

by Theresa Paolo

  “Oh thank god!” Bex said, resting her hands on her knees and taking in a much-needed breath. “Willy, you are not getting any catnip tonight.” She looked up, ready to meet his one eye glare, but he wasn’t there. “Damn it Willy, where are you?” she called out as she spun around, scanning the area.

  She heard a soft mewling and froze, trying to figure out where it was coming from. Her eyes darted around the wooded area, down the dirt path and toward a large expanse of farmland, but no sign of her one-eyed white Persian. This time a meow echoed in the air, and Bex looked up only to find Willy propped way up high on a tree branch.

  Relief flooded her as his one blue eye met hers. She didn’t care how cute he was, he was in so much trouble.

  “Get down from there,” she demanded, pointing to the ground, but he didn’t move. He meowed again this time louder, making it perfectly clear while he was able to get up there, he was not capable of getting back down.

  Great. What was she supposed to do now?

  Chapter 2

  It was a slow day at the firehouse. Not a single call had come in that afternoon. Everything had been cleaned, including the truck, the kitchen, and the bathrooms. It was a dirty job, but there was no room in the budget to hire someone to do it.

  Chase was used to cleaning. He’d been helping his oldest sister keep a clean house most of his life. It was almost second nature at this point. He saw something out of place and he automatically picked it up and put it away. His sister Layla liked to claim she trained him well.

  Really, it was the least he could do. When their mom died and Layla took over the responsibilities of head of the household, Chase wasn’t old enough to get a job. He did what he could to help, even if it just was picking up after himself. Not that it made up for the attitude he carried with him after that dreaded day.

  Luckily, for him and for Layla, Sam, a local fireman, stepped in and brought him into the firehouse. It was the best damn thing that ever happened to him, and he was grateful to Sam every day.

  “Just got a call,” Sam, now the fire chief, said, dominating the doorway he stood in. His premature gray hair was cut short and the slight gap in his front teeth showed as he smiled, which only meant one thing.

  “It better not be no damn cat in a tree,” Chase said.

  He hated cats with a passion and did not sign up to be a fireman to save furry creatures that were the devil incarnate. It seemed to be the only call they got lately, and they’d resorted to drawing straws to see who the sucker would be who got stuck going. There was no point in the whole department going or even bothering to bring the truck. One of their ladders was always tall enough to reach the spry bastards.

  Sam ran a hand over his face, trying to cover his smirk.

  “I went last time,” Chase said and swung his gaze to Miguel who just sat down on the sofa and already had his feet up.

  “Oh no,” Miguel said. “I went this morning to Mrs. Wilkinson’s.”

  “Get the straws,” Sam said.

  Chase grabbed them off the table and handed them over to Sam. Sam held his closed hand out, and Miguel stood from the couch, grabbing a straw. He held it up, and Chase moved to pick his. As soon as it was in his hand he knew he was shit out of luck. “Damn it!” he muttered.

  “Sorry,” Sam said, not even bothering to try and cover up his amusement this time.

  “I thought we were firemen,” Chase said. “Not damn animal control.”

  Sam patted him on the back. “We also serve the community, and we do it with a smile on our faces. Now let me see that smile.”

  Chase refused to even let his lip curve up in the slightest. He was all about helping the community, but he drew the line at cats.

  “Come on,” Sam said, pointing at his lip in a mocking manner.

  Chase smacked his hand away. “Screw off.”

  “Now that is no way to speak to your Chief.”

  “He’s just pissed because the last cat clawed his arm,” Miguel said from the couch. He had his feet propped up, a pillow behind his head, and the remote in his hand, clearly rubbing it in.

  “Haven’t you ever heard of cat-scratch disease?” he asked Miguel who looked unconvinced. “It’s a real thing. Look it up.”

  “Just whatever you do, play nice,” Sam said. “My soon to be sister-in-law called it in. She has a friend staying at Cooper’s old place up at Basil Hill.”

  “Then why the hell can’t Cooper go save the damn cat?” Chase asked. He was sure a cat in a tree was nothing compared to some of the adventures Cooper Hayes had embarked on.

  “He’s with Tommy at play practice.”

  Chase still couldn’t believe Cooper, the world traveler, settled down with a single mom and added to the threesome with a new baby.

  “I’m sure the cat can wait,” Chase said. “It’s obviously not going anywhere.”

  Sam tilted his head, hands landing on his hips in an authoritative stance—a clear sign that Sam was done discussing the cat.

  “Uh oh,” Miguel said, a stupid smirk forming on his face.

  Chase let out an exaggerated breath. “Fine, I’m going. But I swear if I come back missing an eye, it’s on you.”

  “It’s all about getting the animal to trust you,” Sam said.

  “Yeah, don’t piss it off,” Miguel chimed in. “You don’t want to wind up with cat-scratch disease.”

  “Shut up,” Chase said to Miguel before turning to Sam. “Get it to trust me,” he mocked. “Easy for you to say. You’re married to the animal whisperer.”

  Sam’s wife fostered dogs and helped run her parents’ farm. Animals loved her as much as she loved them. She was like a real-life version of Snow White. “I bet Hadley could coax the cat down. Why don’t we call her?” Chase suggested.

  “If you think I’m going to pawn your job off on my wife you’re crazy. Besides she’s dropping off our latest foster.”

  Out of options, Chase took the keys from Sam.

  “If you can’t get the cat with the ladder, call us and we’ll swing by with the truck,” Sam said and Chase gave him a nod.

  Chase walked away, Sam and Miguel’s laughter following him as he went. They could laugh it up all they wanted. He would get them back for this.

  It didn’t take long before Chase turned down the dirt road that would bring him to the tiny house Cooper had built on his parent’s farm. The road was a little bumpy but nothing Chase wasn’t used to. He spent a lot of his late teen years off-roading on much worse terrain.

  Finally, he saw the small structure and to the right of the house a woman with long brown hair, shoes five inches too high, looking up at the tree with her hands around her mouth. Her jeans were skin tight, hugging curves that made him do a double take before he threw the truck into park.

  The slam of the door got the attention of the brunette who jumped and stumbled slightly before spinning around. Her hand flung to her chest, and she sucked in a deep breath. “You scared me,” she said.

  Big sunglasses covered a majority of her face, the dark tint making it impossible to see her eyes. She smiled, revealing bright white teeth that contrasted with her glowing tan and made it obvious she wasn’t from these parts. It had been a long winter in Red Maple Falls with many sunless days, not nearly enough to get a tan.

  “You call about the cat?” he asked.

  She looked at him, chin set in a hard line, eyebrow peeking out from the brown plastic frames, like he should bow down at her feet with an apology, but he didn’t have time to play nice. He just wanted to get the damn cat out of the tree.

  “I did,” she finally said. “He took off after a squirrel and now he’s all the way up there. He’s not used to nature. We’re from… Well, we’re not from around here.”

  He glanced down at her too high heels before dragging his gaze up her body to her oversized sunglasses. . . “Obviously.” Even in those ridiculous heels he still had a good five inches on her.

  She held her head high as her lip curled in annoyance, bu
t he brushed it off.

  “Is the cat friendly?” he asked.

  “Yes, very.”

  “Name?”

  “Um.” She hesitated before holding her head up straight and declaring, “Rebecca.”

  “The cat’s name is Rebecca?”

  “No, I mean… Sorry that’s my name. The cat’s name is Willy.”

  That seemed like a dumb name for a cat, but he kept that comment to himself. After all, he had a turtle named Dick Tracy. Who was he to judge?

  The woman kept speaking, but he turned away to grab the ladder. The faster this was over and his feet were back on solid ground away from beady eyes and sharp claws, the happier he’d be.

  “Do you have a name?” she asked, following behind him.

  “Chase.”

  He grabbed the ladder and walked past her. She hurried behind him to keep up but kept sidestepping twigs. At least, she wouldn’t be twisting an ankle on him.

  He propped the ladder against the tree, making sure it was in a secure position before he stepped up on the first wrung.

  “Do you want me to hold the ladder for you?” she asked. She pushed her big sunglasses up on her head, revealing stunning green eyes, an unexpected surprise that momentarily rendered him speechless.

  She blinked, long dark eyelashes brushing against high cheekbones.

  He cleared his throat and looked back up toward the white beast. It didn’t matter how pretty she was, he had a job to do. He probably should ask her to hold the ladder, but he’d imagined if it went astray she wouldn’t know how to right it in place anyway. He didn’t want to take the risk of her managing to hurt herself or him in her effort to be helpful so he shook his head no.

  “Not necessary.”

  “You sure? I mean I’m not an expert like you or anything, but I’m pretty sure you should have someone hold the ladder so you don’t have an accident.”

  Did she ever stop talking?

  Chase knew he should be nice; after all she was a friend of Sam’s family who happened to be friends of his as well, but with that damn cat above him, he couldn’t seem to remember his manners despite the fact that he was genuinely considered to be a nice guy. If his mother was alive she would surely have smacked him upside the head by now for being such a jerk. His sisters would no doubt give him hell if word got back to them.

  With a deep breath, he glanced back down at Rebecca. “I’m good. Just get ready to grab the cat from me.”

  “Okay.”

  Once this whole ordeal was over, he would apologize. There was no reason for his crass attitude to be directed toward her. Maybe he could explain his dislike of cats to her, and hopefully she wouldn’t immediately assume he was a bad person because of it. It’s not like he hated all animals. Just demon spawn with beady eyes.

  It wasn’t his fault his sister Brooke brought in a stray kitten when they were kids that liked to attack him when he was sleeping. At ten years old he’d been tortured enough for one lifetime, and ever since he had a bad taste in his mouth when it came to the four-legged creatures. He swore cats sensed his distaste, and they targeted him. Even the friendly ones which was why he wasn’t putting too much faith in Rebecca’s pledge that the cat was friendly.

  Chase continued up the ladder, keeping his eye on the cat’s backside. It must’ve chased the squirrel right up the trunk and once it got to the first branch realized he was in trouble. Hopefully, Willy learned his lesson. There was no way in hell Chase was drawing the shortest straw a second time and doing this again. Miguel could get his ass over here and handle it.

  Chase got to the same level as the cat and positioned himself to make sure he wouldn’t slip or misstep when he went in for the reach. He sent up a silent prayer and leaned over. As soon as he grabbed the cat it jolted in his arms, its mouth opened wide, swinging back in his direction. The claws shot up, swiping at him with relentless determination.

  “Son of a—” Chase’s words got lost to the late spring day as the ladder swayed slightly.

  “Oh no!” Rebecca cried.

  He stilled as much as he could with a possessed creature in his grasp. The ladder teetered back and forth before finally settling back into place.

  “I’m trying to help you here,” he said to the cat as if the cat cared. With another swipe of his claw, it was obvious he didn’t care at all. “Okay,” Chase said, trying for a more soothing tone. “Willy is it?” The cat’s paw retracted into itself as he titled its head. One bright blue eye stared back at him taking him by surprise. “I’m going to bring you down to your owner okay. I just need you to work with me here.”

  The cat’s one eye glared at him like he was bored with Chase and was ready for him to do his duty as a fireman and get him to safety. Chase didn’t give a damn that the cat appeared to be judging him. He secured it against his chest and slowly made his way down the ladder.

  As he reached the second to last wrung, Rebecca ran over and snatched Willy from his hands.

  “You scared him!” she exclaimed, hugging the white fluffball to her and raining kisses on his head.

  Unbelievable. The woman couldn’t even throw him a thank you. “Scared him?” Chase all but growled. “He nearly knocked me off the ladder.”

  “Because you scared him. You can’t sneak up on him on the right side, he can’t see you.”

  “How the hell was I supposed to know the cat only has one eye?”

  “Maybe if you would have let me tell you, you would have known!”

  What little patience Chase had left waned. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to ease the tension coursing through every ounce of his body. “I don’t have time for this. Put the damn thing on a leash so I don’t ever have to come back here.”

  She scoffed. “How would you like it if I put you on a leash?”

  “I know how to control myself unlike this white ball of terror.”

  “Really? Because if you ask me, you’re rude.”

  Yes, maybe he was being rude, but at this point he honestly felt it was called for. He met her angry gaze and smirked. Anger looked good on her. “Two totally different things, sweetheart.”

  “Don’t call me that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’m not your sweetheart, and quite frankly, I can’t imagine anybody who would want to be around an attitude like yours. Cute will only get you so far in life, buddy.”

  His lip quirked at the edge as she continued to glare at him with those green eyes. “So you’re saying I’m cute?”

  “That’s what you focus on?” she asked, her voice raising a few octaves. If she went any higher, she’d have every dog in a ten-mile radius coming to her. “After everything I just said. Wow, someone is a bit full of himself.”

  “And someone likes to hear herself talk.”

  “Thank you for getting Willy out of the tree. You can leave now.”

  “Gladly.” He grabbed the ladder from the ground and hauled it back to the truck. He didn’t get paid enough for dealing with crazy cat ladies no matter how beautiful they were. He could’ve plummeted to the ground from twenty feet, and all she cared about was that he’d scared her precious cat.

  “I was told everyone was nice here. I guess they never met you.”

  “Consider yourself lucky then,” he said, tossing the ladder into place.

  With a perturbed exhale, she spun on her too high heel and headed for the tiny house. He watched her cuddle the fuzz ball before disappearing into the house and slamming the door.

  Chapter 3

  The fireman was brash and unapologetic, but he did save Willy, and for that Bex felt like she owed the jerk which was why she stood in front of the firehouse with a six pack in her arms and an appreciative smile on her face.

  The only time she’d ever been in a firehouse was on the set of one of her movies. The façade was meant to look like a firehouse but the inside was nothing more than a few fake walls that made the space appear much larger than it actually was. It was nothing like the real buildi
ng standing in front of her now filled with real history and stories of heroism.

  Her cellphone vibrated in her bag, and she pulled it out, glancing at her publicist’s phone number and declining the call. Notifications popped up on her screen, including twenty-two missed calls and a few texts from Calla.

  It wasn’t her fault this town had shoddy service. She ignored the icon that told her she had one too many voicemails and shoved her phone back into her bag. She wasn’t ready to deal with anything yet or listen to her publicist talk damage control and her manager scold her for her stupidity.

  She knew running away from her problems wasn’t the answer, but taking a vacation from them? Well, there was nothing wrong with that. She deserved a vacation. She’d filmed back to back films without a week’s rest in between. Afterward, she was on the promotion circuit, going from one talk show to the next. She was tired of putting on a smile and acting happy to see everyone.

  Last week was her first week away from the grueling schedule, and what an absolute disaster that had turned into. She managed to escape undetected and planned on hiding out for as long as she could. In order to do that, though, she needed to make peace with the cranky fireman. The cranky fireman who had the sexiest gray eyes she’d ever seen despite the fact he mostly glared at her with irritation since she met him.

  The garage door of the firehouse was open, so she let herself in, walking past the bright red truck that seemed to sparkle in the early afternoon sun. She looked around, admiring how clean the place was. It was pretty impressive, or at least she assumed it was. She wasn’t exactly sure.

  “Hello?” she called out into the abyss. Her voice echoed around her as she waited.

  A head covered in dark hair popped out from a back room. His deep rich brown eyes widened as he took her in, and that was when she realized she wasn’t hiding behind her sunglasses. She had pushed them up on her head, putting her face on full display for anyone to see.