Patrick went back to his office/bedroom to log personnel and equipment on to the computer and wrap up a few other administrative ends.
The room that he spent more time in than he spent in his own bedroom at home housed a desk, a twin bed, a couple of chairs, a computer and printer. The décor probably left a lot to be desired for most folks. The beige-and-brown comforter on the bed and the cream plaid chairs didn’t exactly scream high-end. But it was sufficient for the work he needed to get done.
His cell phone started ringing and he glanced at the caller ID before answering.
“Yes, Aunt Sophie?”
“How’s my favorite nephew this morning?” Her voice was way too pleasant for the time of morning and for her demeanor in general.
Something was up. She was that pleasant only when she was trying to hook him up with some woman she thought would be perfect for him.
Been there, done that and got the divorce papers to prove it.
There was no way he was going to allow her to reel him in and hook him up. Plus, if he weren’t at work it would be too early for his aunt to be calling him anyway. She must be trying to catch him when he was sleepy and groggy and liable to agree to anything.
“I’m fine, Aunt Sophie. But I’m at work and I can’t talk now. I need to run the guys through a drill and we have to handle chores at the station before a group of kids come through for a tour in a few.” He almost felt guilty rushing her off the phone. Almost. “So how about I give you a call later this week? In fact, I’ll try and make time to take my favorite aunt out to lunch. Okay? I really have to go now.”
“Well…okay…I guess I can run some things by you over lunch. I just think you’ve been single too long and it’s time for you to just—”
“Yeah, this is definitely a lunchtime conversation.” Not. “I’ll give you a call later this week and we can set up a time. Love you, Aunt Sophie. I’ll talk with you later. Bye-bye.”
“Well…fine…bye, Patrick. We will talk later—I have some ideas. I’m concerned about your happiness. I don’t think you’ve ever gotten over Courtney. And—”
“Sorry, gotta run, Aunt Sophie. I’ll call you. Bye.”
Yeah, he had to cut her off before she went there. Bringing up the ex-wife was a good enough reason for the dial tone. Sophie was lucky he had respect for his elders. He hung up the phone. The last thing he needed this early in the morning was a reminder of the biggest mistake of his life.
Shaking his head, he got up and started the drill exercise for the morning. They had just enough time to run through it before the kiddies came through.
People had these outrageous images of firemen just sitting around the firehouse playing cards and dominoes and waiting for the alarm to ring. Those images went out with Ward and Beaver. Today’s firemen were constantly learning and growing on the job, with multiple drills performed daily, as well as video training and lectures. They also had to clean the firehouse, cook and perform community outreach by going to schools and offering tours to students. The job was multifaceted and he loved that part of it, almost as much as he loved running into a blaze and saving lives.
He put the team through a drill of working the hose while on the ladder. And soon the little ones were coming through the door. He fully intended to greet them and then get the heck out of Dodge.
“Welcome to Fire Station No. 5, girls and boys. My name is Fire Captain Patrick Hightower.” He paused and gave them a chance to settle down a little. They were clearly hyped from the walk over, and some of them seemed literally ready to bounce off the walls. He scanned the crowd of munchkins, then sought out their teacher.
Good, he thought; there are two of them. They should be able to keep the kids corralled. His eyes skimmed right over the young woman with the weird boots, even though she did look familiar. Did she go to his church? She seemed to be striking a pose as if she was waiting to be noticed or something.
The other teacher was bent over, consoling a little girl who had apparently tripped coming into the building. He zeroed in on her behind and chastised himself even as he checked her out. A backside like that deserved more than a passing glance, but he knew it wasn’t the time or the place.
She was good with the little kid, though. She seemed to have the right amount of patience and kindness needed to deal with kids at such a tender age. The little girl seemed more embarrassed than actually hurt. But the teacher treated the child as if she were the center of the universe. And soon the little girl was cracking a snaggle-toothed grin.
The teacher stood up. “Sorry about that, Captain….” Her voice trailed off as she caught his gaze. The most beautiful brown eyes he’d ever seen caught his eyes and held them.
He opened his mouth and closed it several times. The little ones had long since settled down, and they were looking at him expectantly.
She was stunning.
He stared. He couldn’t help it. And apparently neither could she, because she just kept looking at him as if she couldn’t pull her gaze away.
He cleared his throat, still keeping his focus on her. “As I said, welcome to Fire Station No. 5. I’m Captain Patrick Hightower and I’m going to leave you in the very capable hands of Firefighter Reggie Smith. He’ll be guiding your tour today and answering all of your questions. Enjoy yourselves.”
He should have left and gone back to his office then. But he couldn’t. He just couldn’t.
Chapter 2
As many times as Patrick had given the welcoming spiel, as many times as he had handed over the reins of the student visits to the firehouse to some poor rookie who had the pleasure of leading the schoolchildren on their tour, Patrick couldn’t figure out why he couldn’t move his legs. And what in the hell was wrong with his tongue?
He looked her up and down. She came to about his shoulder and had a curvy body, skin that was a rich shade of brown with reddish undertones, and wore her long, brown hair away from her face with a dark blue headband. Her eyes looked as if someone had taken canes of light and dark brown sugar and spun them together. Yes, she was sugar and spice and everything nice…
Staring at the woman, who made navy blue slacks, a powder-blue sweater twinset, pearl earrings and a necklace look like one of Victoria’s deepest, most scintillating secrets, he realized the kindergarten teacher had something to do with his sudden speechlessness. Patrick had always been good at warding off any chance of having his heart stolen again.
He just didn’t know how it managed to happen, and how he never had a chance to stop it. But if the erratic thumping in his chest and the sudden clamminess in his hands were any indication, he was smitten with the sexy schoolteacher.
Oh, he didn’t have a problem with the opposite sex, per se. He just has a problem with being so taken by a woman he couldn’t move or speak. Short, hot, steamy affairs he could do and do again. But this…
This was new. This was dangerous. This was worse than running headfirst into a five-alarm blaze with no gear and no clue. And this…
This was inevitable.
At the age of forty, after thinking he would dodge this ever happening to him again, Patrick Hightower had just met a woman he actually wanted to get to know better.
Some men just take up all the space and air in the room. And given that fact, Aisha Miller sized him up.
Tall, dark and handsome had nothing on this towering wall of muscles or the way he filled out that navy blue-and-white uniform. She didn’t think she had a thing for men in uniform. Thick, muscular thighs, strong pipes for arms, official and authoritative clothing…her heart raced.
She