Her Holiday Fireman. Kathleen Y'Barbo

noise that could only come from the orange tabby interrupted Leah’s reading. She looked over her shoulder to spy Baby racing toward her with what appeared to be a rope-style dog toy. Following close behind was a massive and unfamiliar dog. When the cat ducked beneath Leah’s lounge chair, the canine attempted to follow.

      Her book and chair went one way while she and her water bottle went the other. Only when she stood to dust off the sand did she realize the enormous brindle-colored dog was now chasing the cat up the stairs.

      And the door was open.

      By the time she reached the threshold, the destruction was complete. Baby was perched atop the refrigerator in the corner of the kitchen hissing like mad while the oversize mutt barked as if calling her down to come and play.

      The warring pair had not gone straight to their current posts, however. Sandy paw prints the size of her fist raced across the wood floor and decorated the sofa. One of the gauze panels surrounding her bed hung askew as if the beast had gotten caught in it before tearing free.

      Leah reached for her copy of Texas Monthly and rolled it up then approached the dog carefully. A glance at the animal told her that he easily outweighed her. When he placed his mitt-sized paws on the counter and cast a look her way, their eyes were at the same height.

      Brandishing the magazine, she moved a step closer. “Get. Out. Of. Here,” she said through clenched jaw.

      The dog paused only long enough to blink twice then returned his attention to Baby, whose hissing and howling did nothing to help the situation. Again, Leah waved the magazine at the dog. This time, the animal ignored her completely though his tail thumped loudly against the cabinet door.

      Leah was poised to make another attempt when a shrill whistle split the air. The dog froze and looked back toward the open door. Another whistle and he loped past her, making a hasty exit.

      Tossing aside the magazine, she stormed out onto the deck and down the stairs in pursuit of whatever idiot owned the disaster with paws. At the bottom of the steps, she made a sharp left turn and slammed into a wall of gray fabric.

      The collision knocked her backward, and Leah went reeling into the stair rail. Her head slammed against the wood, and instantly she saw stars. A pair of strong arms caught her and pulled her upright to steady her on her feet.

      “Look out, there. Did you hit your head?”

      “I’m fine,” she said, though her field of vision was limited to a gray Firemen’s Training School T-shirt and, oddly, something that looked like a belt draped over one shoulder. When her brain caught up with her eyes, she realized the belt was actually a leash. Leah moved her gaze higher and noticed her rescuer looked very familiar.

      Ryan Owen.

      Before Leah could respond, the massive dog returned and began dancing circles around the two of them. Baby, now safely out of reach in the rafters over the carport, peered down with disdain, offering only the occasional hiss or switch of her tail.

      “Sit, Chief,” Ryan said sharply, and the dog obeyed at once. And though his tail continued to thump against the concrete, his attention was now completely on the man with the leash. The man who still held her in his grip.

      Their eyes met. One dark brow rose.

      “You’re my neighbor?” she said as she made the connection.

      “If you live here, then yes, I am.” He seemed even more surprised than Leah.

      “I guess that must be the reason Riley Burkett thought I’d seen your new place,” she said.

      “You feel a little unsteady on your feet,” he said as he leaned back to give her an appraising look.

      “I’m fine,” she said despite the fact the fireman’s presence was more than a little disconcerting. Especially when he held her this close. And she could smell the masculine combination of soap and salt air on his clothes. See the curve of his smile from a whole new angle.

      “Leah?”

      Her senses cleared. “Yes, I’m fine. Really.”

      When he released her, however, Leah took a step back and the horizon tilted. He caught her before her head could slam into the rail again.

      She said a quick prayer that the ground might swallow her up before she said, did or thought anything else that might cause further humiliation.

      “You need to sit down.” Ryan led her by the elbow to a chair. “Okay, now I’m going to go put Chief inside, but I’ll be right back.”

      He quickly attached the leash to the dog’s collar and led him away through a gap in the hedge. Leah let out a sigh as she closed her eyes and rested her hands in her lap. Above her, Baby yowled. She opened her eyes to look up. The cat appeared to be more upset with her than with the dog.

      “Look you,” she said to the fuzzy feline. “You’re the one who went over there and asked for trouble. Don’t blame me if it followed you home.”

      The sound of footsteps coming around the corner alerted Leah to Ryan’s return. She mustered a neutral expression.

      The fireman stepped into view. “Don’t think he’ll be paying you another visit anytime soon. At least I hope not. No clue what got into him.”

      “Oh, I know exactly what caused the excitement. Wait right here,” Leah said as she recalled the dog toy that Baby had hauled home. “I’ve got something that I think might belong to you.”

      She turned and grabbed for the nearest solid object to steady herself then made her way as best she could through the sun-dappled shade to the stairs. Reaching the second-floor deck, she heard the unmistakable tread of sneakers on wood behind her.

      Turning, she saw he’d followed, though at a respectable distance. “Looks like you listen about as well as your dog.” Regretting her harsh tone, Leah added a quick but somewhat nicer, “Please wait.”

      “No offense, but you’re looking a little unsteady. Just wanted to be sure you didn’t fall.” Ryan crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the rail. “If it looks appetizing, you’re welcome to keep it to cook for dinner.”