“Luckily there’s no lack of males in my family. Sean’s got lots of guys around, maybe too many, when they get to butting heads.” She smiled again. “It’s really nice for you to think of him, though.”
Nate’s fingers stilled. “Nice. Right. Okay, I’ll be seeing you around, Fiona.” He shook his head as he walked toward the door, glancing toward the gaggle of women by the window who were openly staring at his muscular arms. He shot them a grin. “Ladies.”
Fiona rubbed a hand over her eyes. For the most part, she hadn’t had to fend off many advances over the last couple of years. Maybe the guys around here had figured she was still grieving or maybe they were scared of her cop brothers. Maybe Nate was just trying to be nice. Or maybe it was open season on the Widow Cobb.
Merry walked with the preschoolers to their moms and nannies in the front of the store. “Okay, mommies, we’re all finished. Today we did a project on the letter B and read a couple favorites by Sandra Boynton. We have the books we read today plus some others by the same author on the round table right over there. Let me know if you have any questions.”
The moms wandered off and Merry leaned on the counter by Fiona. “So.”
Fiona flicked her eyes up to meet her assistant’s pretty, brown, amused eyes. “So?”
“Nate Santos? He’s really cute.”
“Why is it that newly paired-off people always want other single people to get fixed up? I’ve known Nate since high school, Merry. He’s not my type. I’d tell you to go for it, except you’re off the market. My brother is a lucky man.”
Merry’s face lit up and she wiggled her ring finger so it caught the light from the display window. “Why, yes. Yes, he is. It’ll be official next month. I can’t believe it.”
“I can’t, either. I thought Douglas was a confirmed bachelor, way too set in his ways. I guess it just took the right woman.”
“Obviously.” Merry’s curls bounced as she laughed.
Fee reached under the counter and pulled out a stack of magazines and books wrapped with a blue satin ribbon. “I pulled these last night. I thought they might help with the planning.”
Merry’s eyes widened. “Oh, you darling. I can’t wait to dig into these—on my lunch hour, of course.” She grabbed Fiona’s face and kissed her cheek. “It’s going to be so much fun to be sisters for real.”
Fee laughed. “I can’t wait for that, too. Christmas is going to be really fun this year.”
One by one, it seemed that the Fitzgerald siblings were finding their mates. First it had been Merry and Douglas, then Keira had started dating Nick Delfino. Just last month, her brother Owen had declared his love for his high school sweetheart, Victoria Evans, the innkeeper.
It was nice to have something good to think about. She pointed to a dress on the front of Bridesmaids magazine that made her shudder and grinned at Merry. “Just don’t make me wear an avocado-green bridesmaid’s dress and we’ll still be friends when it’s all over.”
One of the moms from Story Time came to the counter with a stack of Sandra Boynton books. “I don’t know how you girls do it, but you always seem to know what the kids are going to like. I don’t think we’ll get out of here without buying these.”
Fiona began ringing up the books. “Now that’s what I like to hear. Children who like to read.”
The door chimed again. Fiona glanced up. Today must be the day for firefighters in the bookstore. It was Brennan Fox. He and Jimmy had been on the same shift until Jimmy had died and when Hunter made the move to B-shift, so did Brennan. Regardless, the fire department was pretty small. There were only twelve career firefighters. “Hi, Brennan, let me know if I can help you find anything.”
He didn’t say anything, just nodded and headed for the back of the store. She didn’t know him that well, but he looked terrible. Circles under his eyes, his dirty-blond hair sticking up all over his head, and he had at least a three-day beard, something a firefighter wouldn’t be sporting on duty.
“Hope you enjoy those, Marianne. See you next week.” She handed the bag of books to the young mom, but watched out of the corner of her eye as Brennan poked his head into her storeroom before grabbing a couple books off the shelf. Another nosy information seeker?
Brennan walked toward her with two books in his hands. “I’ll take these.”
“Sure thing, Brennan. You doing okay?” She rang the first book—Parenting: Birth to Three—and put it in a bag. He didn’t look okay. His hands were shaking.
“Fine. I’m in a hurry though.” He glanced around the shop and back to her as she rang up the second book—Tough Times Survival Guide—and added it to his bag. He handed her a couple twenties and told her to keep the change before grabbing the bag and rushing out the door. Weird choice of books. She knew he was a single guy with no kids, so maybe the books were a gift.
Also weird—Brennan worked B-shift and Hunter was working today. She made a mental note to mention it to Hunter. Something definitely wasn’t right with Brennan Fox.
* * *
Max Lavigne pulled the steak pinwheels out of the oven. The other members of B-shift crowded around. Max stopped. “Dude. Back off. They’ll be on a plate in about one minute.”
“Aah, that smells good.” Hunter leaned forward, imagining that first cheesy-rich bite. He had finished his workout an hour ago and was starving.
“Where did you learn to cook like that?” The rookie, Lance, looking about twelve with his freckled face and curly brown hair, pushed his way into the crowd at the stove.
“My dad was a chef.” Max slid the first steak onto a plate as the tones sounded. With a sigh, Max pushed the steak again onto the pan and shoved the entire thing back into the still-warm oven.
Hunter stepped into his turnout pants, pulling them up and over his uniform pants as the dispatcher gave the details of the call and listed a downtown address.
Danny Fitzgerald pulled his suspenders over his shoulders and grabbed his coat and hat as he ran for the attack engine. “Never fails. Dinnertime, we get a callout. Why?”
“Builds character.” Hunter slid into his seat and pulled the headphones down over his head. The probie firefighter jumped on board as the big engine roared out of the bay, pulling in his arm just in time to keep it from getting smashed as they turned out of the bay and onto the street.
“Dispatch, Fire-Rescue One is responding. Can you repeat?”
“Fire-Rescue One, this is dispatch. Respond to a bomb threat at 214 Cherry Street.”
Shock slammed through Hunter as the dispatcher repeated Fiona’s address. He shook his head trying to assimilate the information, regain his mental balance. “Dispatch, is the house currently occupied?”
“The house is unoccupied, Fire-Rescue One. Repeat, the house is currently unoccupied. Fitzgerald Bay police are on site. State police also en route.”
He looked at the firefighter sitting directly across from him—Fiona’s cousin, Danny. Danny obviously recognized the address, too. Any hint of complaint or teasing had disappeared. His jaw had hardened into a determined line.
Horn blaring, they went through the intersection and pulled up in front of Fiona’s. Red-and-blue lights flared across the gray shingles of her Cape Cod–style house. The four firefighters barreled out into the driveway, only to be met by Douglas Fitzgerald. “No one’s going in right now. You guys are strictly precautionary.”
Hunter gritted his teeth and held his