Tall, Strong & Cool Under Fire. Marie Ferrarella. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Marie Ferrarella
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия: Mills & Boon Vintage Cherish
Жанр произведения: Контркультура
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781472080219
Скачать книгу
him forward as she protested with feeling.

      “But he’s not a stranger, Mommy. I know his name. It’s Bryce Walker and he’s my new best friend. And he’s a firefighter, Mommy. That’s like a policeman, right, except nobody shoots at him. You said if I was ever lost, to only talk to a policeman or a police lady. Remember? Well, I couldn’t find a policeman, but I found him.”

      Lisa closed her eyes. There was no arguing with CeCe once she got started. She took after her grandmother that way—except worse. Lisa learned by experience to wait until the torrent of words subsided.

      When she opened her eyes again, she saw her daughter’s new best friend looking at her. She supposed he did deserve an apology.

      Rising Lisa brushed her hands against her shorts, a tingle of nerves unaccountably zigzagging through her. She wasn’t accustomed to thinking of herself as anything except CeCe’s mother. The firefighter wasn’t looking at her as if he thought of her as anyone’s mother.

      Lisa cleared her throat, nodding toward CeCe. “I’m sorry if she was any trouble.”

      She looked flustered, Bryce thought. He liked the slight tinge of pink that came into her cheeks. Looking down at his talkative new friend who had an iron grip on his hand, he grinned.

      “CeCe? No, she wasn’t any trouble at all. I was just about to give your daughter a tour of the fire station.” His grin extended to include CeCe’s mother as well. “I’m sure the tour group could be expanded by one if you’re interested.”

      “Thank you, but no.” Lisa saw CeCe’s face fall. Though she was completely right in turning down the invitation for more than one reason, Lisa still felt guilty. She always did whenever she denied CeCe anything. Wanting to give her daughter the world, the guilt that accompanied any refusal was something she continually had to wrestle with.

      “But Mommy—” CeCe began to protest.

      Lisa remained firm. She had to. “We’re in the middle of moving in and everything’s a big mess. I can’t spare the time right now, honey. Besides—” she suddenly remembered “—I have the movers all combing the neighborhood for you.”

      Confusion puckered the small brow. “Why do they want to comb me, Mommy?”

      Bryce bit back a laugh. “It’s just an expression, honey.” Very gently, he withdrew his hand from the small grasping fingers then raised his eyes to Lisa. “I can put the tour on hold, if you’d like. Consider it a raincheck.” He saw her open her mouth to protest. “Everyone should get to know their neighborhood firehouse. We’re not just for fires anymore.” He winked at CeCe, clearly winning her heart by becoming a coconspirator. “And on rare occasions, we even offer baby-sitting—um, big girl sitting services,” he amended seeing her small brows rise in indignation.

      CeCe Billings was, he thought, what his grandfather had been wont to call “a pistol.” He wished the old man was still around to meet the little girl. On second thought, his grandfather would have probably attempted to make a play for CeCe’s mom. The man had retained a twinkle in his eye until the day he died at age ninety-three.

      Bryce hoped the condition was hereditary and that he’d be half as spry when he got to that age.

      Lisa wished she had on something other than a tank top and shorts, but she had a feeling the man would make her aware of his gaze even if she were wearing sack cloth and ashes. She raised her chin, determined to retreat as quickly as possible.

      “That’s comforting to know, but I’m sure we won’t be bothering you again, Mr.—um—”

      “Walker.” He put out his hand to her. “Bryce Walker.”

      “I already told you, Mommy,” CeCe reminded her.

      Lisa hesitated, not wanting to waste any more precious time. Across the street, her mother and the movers were undoubtedly still searching for CeCe. She had to get back before her mother decided to call the police. Her mother had never believed in taking the slow approach to anything and was a firm believer in getting the system to work for her any way it could.

      But the firefighter was being awfully nice about having CeCe bend his ear and he had looked after the little girl for her. She didn’t want to think about what could have happened if CeCe had just continued to wander off on her own.

      So, with one foot out the door, holding her daughter firmly by the hand, Lisa extended her free one and slipped it into his. His grip was firm, hard. Warm. And his eyes were definitely unsettling, reminding her just how long it had been since she’d looked at any man as something other than a customer.

      “I’m Lisa Billings.” Her throat felt inordinately dry. She had to remember to stop and drink something once in a while, she told herself. All morning long, she’d worked like a whirling dervish, trying to get the new house organized. She had a limited amount of time before she had to get back to working on the store. The opening day was close. “Thank you for minding CeCe.”

      “It was a pleasure.”

      He was still holding her hand. And her attention. Fighting self-consciousness, she withdrew her hand from his. Uncoupled, she saw that he was nonetheless following her, step for step as she began to edge away.

      “CeCe says you’re new to the city.”

      She gave CeCe a reproving look. She was going to have to see about getting her daughter to be a little less forthcoming.

      “We are.”

      He wondered if it was his imagination that made him think she looked a little uneasy, talking to him. “And the state.”

      “That, too.” She glanced at her daughter again, making it across the threshold this time. Just how much did CeCe tell this man about them?

      He was still on duty until this evening, so he couldn’t very well take off with her, although there was something about her that tempted him to do just that.

      So instead, Bryce lingered in the doorway. “Well, since I seem to be one of the first citizens of Bedford you’ve encountered—and you’ll probably be too tired to cook after the movers leave—maybe you’d like to have some dinner?”

      “I’m sure I’ll have some dinner.” Lisa tossed her answer over her shoulder, turning away with CeCe.

      “I mean, with me,” he added.

      She never broke her stride as she looked at him. “I wouldn’t dream of putting you out.”

      “You wouldn’t be,” he called after her.

      But she was already hurrying across the street, her hand firmly wrapped around CeCe’s, leaving him to stand in the doorway of the station, feeling a little confused, rather like an adolescent who had just been rejected by the prom queen. It wasn’t anything he knew from firsthand experience.

      “First time for everything, eh, Walker?”

      He thought he was alone on the floor, having left the others in a hot poker game in the main room upstairs. Surprised, he turned around and saw Jack Riley standing next to the truck, laughter in his eyes. He and Riley went way back to a time when both their voices were higher and their permanent teeth hadn’t come in yet.

      He might have known this would amuse Riley.

      “Though I’d never thought I’d see the day when a woman would turn you down.” Jack laughed to himself, coming forward. “Hell, my mother would go out with you if you just showed a little interest.”

      Closer than brothers, they had trained together and signed on for the same station when the time came. Bryce hooked his thumbs in his belt loops, still watching Lisa and CeCe.

      “No offense, but I’m really not interested in having my neck separated from shoulders by your father.” There was no disguising the affection he bore for both of Riley’s parents. Riley’s father had been his own father’s best friend, and had willingly taken on the role of surrogate father to