Charming the Firefighter (13 page)

“As long as you’re being true to yourself, it shouldn’t matter what other people think. I do believe, though, there are plenty of people who are part of the group because being
normal
—to use your term for it—is just who they are. They’re not pretending to be something or someone they’re not.” She stood and stretched, causing her shirt to rise, giving him a glimpse of her stomach. It wasn’t completely flat like Kennedy’s, but his mouth went dry seeing that flash of pale skin, the slight slope of her belly. “I’d better get home. I still have to finish reading for English.”

He didn’t want her to go, but wasn’t sure how to get her to stay without sounding pathetic. “What are you reading?”

“
To Kill a Mockingbird
. Have you read it?”

He nodded. “Two years ago. It’s pretty good.”

“Yeah, I’m enjoying it, though
Lord of the Flies
is still my favorite assigned-for-school book.”

He didn’t know any girls who liked
Lord of the Flies
. Then again, when he’d read it in middle school, he’d only been to class half the time and hadn’t had the nerve to talk to a lot of girls. “Have you read
Animal Farm?
” She shook her head. “It’s pretty good,” he said, trying to sound nonchalant. “It’s about how these animals take over their farm and how the power changes them.”

“I’ll have to get it,” she said. “By the way, I like your song.”

He stopped playing. “What do you mean?”

She nodded toward his guitar. “The song you were just playing. It’s one of yours, isn’t it? I’ve heard you practicing out here before when you first moved in and I recognized it.”

How had she known it was his? He ducked his head. “It’s just something I’ve been fooling around with.”

“It’s good. Really good.” She leaned close to him and his heart about stopped. “Don’t worry,” she whispered. “I won’t tell anyone the newest jock is a songwriter.”

She straightened and gave a little wave, the bright, full moon casting a golden glow over her hair. He watched her walk all the way to her house, told himself it was to make sure she got there safely, but really it was because he liked looking at her. Liked talking to her. Liked listening to her.

And when he lay in bed that night, he didn’t think of Kennedy and her confusing texts, didn’t remember Estelle and what it had been like to kiss her.

He thought about Gracie and how her hair looked in the moonlight.

* * *

P
ENELOPE
SIMPLY
DID
not get it.

At football practice Thursday afternoon, she watched her son and the other members of the team out on the field. She had a hard time following what they were doing, which mostly seemed like running into each other, though at times, a tall boy with the number 12 on his helmet would throw the ball.

More often than not, the throw would make its way to Andrew. He caught almost every one, diving or sliding on the ground or leaping into the air if need be. He did whatever it took, it seemed, to catch that ball, then he’d run like mad toward the end of the field.

He was having a good time, and she supposed if catching the ball and running fast meant he was good at the sport, then he must be excellent.

“Mind if I join you?”

Shading her eyes, she looked up to see the same elderly gentleman who’d been outside Leo’s office Monday when she’d first discovered Andrew was playing football. “Of course not.”

She shifted over and he sat on the hard metal bleacher. Held out his hand. “Leo Montesano.”

She blinked, shook his hand. “There’s another one?”

Her face warmed. Well, she hadn’t meant to say that. Must be something in the air in Shady Grove that had her blurting out whatever thought came to mind. She didn’t used to be that way. She would say only what she should, what was necessary and polite. After she’d thought it through carefully, of course.

He grinned and yes, she could definitely see Leo in the sparkle in his dark eyes, the charming smile. “The original one.” He winked and she could easily imagine Leo at this man’s age, except she hoped he trimmed his eyebrows. “The other Leo is my grandson. You can call me Big Leo or Pops.”

She didn’t point out that
Big Leo
didn’t really suit him as he was a good six inches shorter than his grandson. But she imagined when his family had named Leo after him, he’d seemed big compared to his grandson. “It’s so nice to meet you, Mr. Montesano.”

Because there was a certain way of doing things and there was no reason to change that or to be anything less than perfectly polite and respectful.

And because she could never call him, or anyone, Pops.

“That’ll do, too,” he said, not offended in the least. He nodded toward the field where the boys were in two separate circles. They clapped once, then lined up against each other. “Your boy’s a natural.”

“That’s what I’ve been told,” she murmured. “I know nothing about football so I’m afraid I can’t judge his abilities.”

“It’s a pretty simple game once you get the hang of it. Each team has the ball for a series of downs or tries. That’s when they’re on offense. During those four tries they have to move the ball at least ten yards. So when the first try starts, it’s first and ten. Each successive down you take away how many yards they gained.” A chubby boy in the center tossed the ball under his legs to number 12 who caught it and ran a few yards. “See that? He got three yards so now it’s second and seven. Second down—or try—and seven yards to go. Once you reach ten yards, your tries restart and you’re back to four tries.”

It was still a bit confusing, but she thought she could follow it better now. “That makes sense.” In a weird, two steps forward, three steps back way. Men. Why couldn’t they invent games that were simple and logical? “Thank you.”

“There’s plenty more to it than that, but if you start with those basics, you’ll catch on pretty quickly. And if you have any questions, you let me or that grandson of mine know.”

She smiled at him, feeling comfortable in his easy presence. “I appreciate the help.” Andrew got tackled and she tensed, her fingers curling into her thighs.

“He’s okay,” Mr. Montesano murmured, patting her hand. “See?”

He was right. Her son wasn’t broken and bleeding on the ground. He sprang to his feet, hit the kid who’d knocked him down on the side of the helmet, though not in an aggressive way.

“I’m nervous,” she admitted, then laughed. “But you already know that.”

“Leo mentioned you might be, so he asked me to come sit with you, see how you were holding up.”

He had? She sought him out, saw him on the sidelines, once again wearing a ball cap, his broad shoulders stretching the material of his sweatshirt. “That was...thoughtful of him.”

Thoughtful. Kind. He
was
kind, she realized. Behind that devil-may-care grin and that charming glint in his eyes was a very caring soul.

“He’s a good boy,” Mr. Montesano said. “Takes after his grandfather.”

She laughed. “It’s nice you two are coaching the team together.”

Mr. Montesano leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “He’s just being nice to an old man, letting me hang around, giving my two cents when they aren’t wanted or needed. Doesn’t stop me from giving them, though. It’s fun, being around him and the kids. They’re a great group of boys. Do you know many of them?”

She shook her head. “Only Luke Sapko. And I believe I’ve met that one—” she pointed to the boy kicking the ball “—once.”

“That’s Josh. He’s a decent kid, but gets cocky when you criticize him. Kids these days can’t take constructive criticism.”

“I thought that was only my son.”

“Andrew? He’s one of the few who stays respectful and doesn’t get all prickly about it. He just listens and then actually does what you suggest. You’re doing a good job with him.”

She flushed pleasantly. She was? “Thank you. There are times when I’m not sure.”

“Kids often push away those closest to them because they know they’ll always be there, that they won’t push back.”

If only it were so easy. “Sometimes I wonder if that’s all there is to it.” She smiled. “I worry about him too much—I know that—but he’s...he’s all I have.”

And admitting that was hard. Admitting her entire life revolved around her son, around keeping him safe, made her seem like less of her own person.

“I’ve been there,” Mr. Montesano said. “I have only one child. Believe me, I understand your concern about keeping Andrew safe. When my boy was little, his mother used to fret over every scrape he got into, every sniffle. But he got through them, got married and had himself four kids for me to spoil. Now I have three great-grandchildren and I still worry about all of them. You never stop.”

“Wonderful,” she said weakly, feeling suddenly overwhelmed. “I was actually hoping there’d be a cutoff date at some point.”

He laughed. “Afraid not. But you learn that worrying does neither you nor them any good. It’s better to teach them, to help them see what’s worth risking and what’s not. How to be careful and make smart choices, but also how to live. It’s a tough job, parenthood. But it’s the best one out there.”

She used to think so, too. And then Andrew got sick and she was constantly stressed. Yet even during that horrible time, she was so incredibly grateful to be his mother. To have him in her life. “I’m not sure any risks are worth taking.”

“Oh, I think you’re more of a risk taker than you realize.” Before she could assure him she wasn’t, he nodded toward the field again. “Looks like Leo’s finishing up practice.”

The boys were crowded around him, all kneeling on one knee, their helmets off, their undivided attention on their coach. “He’s good with them,” she said.

It was clear he related to the boys on a different level than a parent or teacher, but he wasn’t trying to be their buddy or friend.

You could use a friend,
he’d told her, and she thought he’d be a good one. And why couldn’t she be friends with a sexy, handsome, charming man? No, it hadn’t ever happened to her before in her life, but there was a first time for everything.

“He connects with them,” Mr. Montesano said. “For Leo it’s not about wins and losses so much as it’s about helping them grow and learn. He knows it’s important to be a mentor, to help them in all aspects of their lives. He has clear standards of what he expects from them, of their behavior on and off the field. He pushes them to work hard, is honest with them, and always finds something to compliment them on each day without laying it on too thick.”

“You’re very proud of him.”

“I’m proud of all my grandkids—though my great-grandkids are my greatest joys.”

With a wink reminiscent of his grandson, he stood and walked away.

Penelope’s nerves jumped to see Leo staring at her. The boys had taken off toward the school and Leo stood in the middle of the field. He raised his hands to indicate ten minutes.

Ten minutes until their coffee date.

Not a date, she corrected. A...friendly meeting. Just two people getting to know each other over coffee—possibly even chaperoned by her son. She nodded to let him know she’d wait, then settled in, anxious to get it over with.

More anxious to be with him.

CHAPTER TWELVE

L
EO
APPROACHED
P
ENELOPE
. He liked seeing her sitting in the bleachers, the wind picking up loose strands of hair. “You look real pretty with the sun on your face,” he told her.

She blushed. He liked that, too, how she got flustered from an honest compliment. She cleared her throat. “Thank you.”

He leaned against the rail. “What did you think of practice?”

“It was...interesting.”

He grinned. How could he not when she was so careful in everything she said and did? “Is that good or bad?”

“Interesting is just...interesting,” she said. “Actually, your grandfather explained a few things to me, which helped quite a bit.”

“Pops is a great teacher. If there’s something you don’t know or understand, you ask him and he’ll explain it.”

“He’s very proud of you,” she said, and he found himself caught in her intent stare. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that, her studying him so closely. He was the one who studied other people, who read them. He didn’t like or want anyone doing that to him. “And you obviously respect him a great deal to allow him to help you out. Most people tend to ignore the elderly in their family.”

Ignore Pops? That would be like cutting off his right arm. “He’s the best,” Leo said simply. “He’s part of our family and, despite his age, he’s still the head of it. What should we do? Put him adrift on an ice floe?”

“I’m only saying that it’s nice. Your family is obviously close.”

She sounded sad. Wistful. “Yours isn’t?”

“My parents were...are...very focused on their careers.”

“And your brother?”

“He’s quite a bit older than I am and was out of the house for most of my childhood.”

Leo touched her hand, glad when she didn’t flinch or pull away. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. It wasn’t horrible. And I have Andrew. He’s my family.”

“I can’t get away from family,” Leo said, because he hated her looking so sad and trying to act as if it didn’t bother her.

“Yes, your grandfather mentioned you have several siblings.”

“Two older brothers and a younger sister. They all work for my dad’s contracting company.”

The breeze picked up and she brushed strands of hair back. “Do you feel left out?”

“Out of the business? Yes, and that’s how I wanted it. I worked for my dad from the time I was old enough to haul scraps, put in my time during summers and after school. And while I can appreciate what they do and the craftsmanship that goes into building something, into building homes, it was never what I wanted.”

“You always wanted to be a firefighter?”

He laughed. “I wanted to be a jet fighter, but I blame that on my parents letting us watch
Top Gun
when we were little. I also, at various moments in my life, wanted to be a cop, a cowboy, a deep-sea diver and a firefighter. That last one stuck after I spent a few weeks shadowing a friend of my father’s who was the captain at the fire station.”

“You like it.”

“I love it.” There was nothing else he could imagine doing. Nothing else he wanted to do.

“Even when it’s hard?” she asked hesitantly. “When it’s dangerous or when you lose someone like that young girl over Labor Day?”

He tensed, but forced himself to relax. People in town were still talking about Sam and the accident. Most, like Penelope, were simply curious. Though Penelope’s curiosity was more about him than the gory details. Which was fine.

She couldn’t get more from him than he was willing to give.

“I don’t like those moments. What about you?” he asked, turning so their bodies were closer. She didn’t back away. “Did you dream of being an accountant as a little girl?”

He expected her to say no. What little girl dreams of being an accountant?

“Yes. It was all I’ve ever thought about for a career.”

He shook his head. “You’re kidding.”

Her mouth thinned. “Why would I joke about something like that?”

“It’s just that most kids have different dreams. Didn’t you ever want to be a movie star or ballerina or artist?”

“My parents encouraged me to pick a career that was both stable and one where I was guaranteed to succeed.” She crossed her arms. “I like my job.”

Shit. He’d pissed her off. Again. He’d never had so much trouble reading a woman. “I’m sure you do, and I bet you’re great at it.”

She unbent enough to give him a shy smile. “I manage quite well. I like when things add up, when everything’s in a neat row, all lined up in orderly fashion.”

“It suits you,” he murmured, seeing how her eyes lit. She actually got excited talking about numbers. It was fascinating.

“Hey,” Drew said as he joined them, his duffel bag slung over his shoulder. His gaze bounced between them, and Penelope quickly stepped away. “Luke and some of the guys are going out for pizza and want me to come. Can I?”

“Actually,” Penelope said, sending Leo a nervous glance. “Leo and I were going to go out for coffee and I thought you could join us.”

Drew’s jaw dropped and he stared at Leo. “What? You’re going out with my mom?” He looked and sounded shocked. “Why?”

“Ouch,” Penelope muttered, giving her son a narrow-eyed glare.

“Are you two going to talk about me?” the kid went on, having no idea it was past time for him to shut up. “Is she trying to convince you to kick me off the team?” He rounded on his mother. “You promised you’d give me a shot.”

“I am giving you a shot,” she said, sounding resigned and weary. Then again, if the kid argued with her all the time like this, Leo would be weary, too. And way more pissed than Penelope seemed to be. “Coach...Leo and I are...we’re...”

“We’re going out on a coffee date,” Leo interjected smoothly. “I asked your mother out because I’m interested in getting to know her better. The only reason we invited you to join us was to be nice and considerate of your feelings. But since you obviously don’t care about doing the same for your mother, we rescind our offer.”

Drew seemed confused. “You want to date my mom?” he asked in a whisper, glancing around as if afraid someone would overhear.

“Yep.”

“That is so weird,” he said.

“Adults are a weird bunch,” Leo told him solemnly. “You’ll get used to it and join our ranks one day. Now, do you need dropped off anywhere?”

“Nah, I’m riding with Luke.” He looked at his mom. “If that’s okay.”

“Of course. I’ll see you when I get home. I won’t be long.”

Now Drew grinned. “Dude, you have your work cut out for you.”

“No kidding,” Leo muttered. They hadn’t even left yet and already Penelope was ready to end the date. Talk about an ego crusher. “You ready?” he asked her as Drew walked away.

“I can meet you at the coffee shop since I have my car here.”

“I’d rather ride with you. Pops brought me.” He’d figured she’d want to drive separate and was afraid if she preferred to meet him somewhere, she might not show up at all.

“Oh. Of course.” They walked across the parking lot in silence. She jiggled the keys and glanced at him over the top of her car. “Do you think Andrew was upset? About us going out. As friends,” she added.

“I think if you let your sixteen-year-old son make all the decisions and let him control how you feel and what you do, you’re never going to have his respect or his obedience.”

“It’s just...I haven’t dated,” she blurted. “Since the divorce. And to be honest, I didn’t date all that much before I was married.”

How could he stay upset with her when she was so honest, even when it was hard on her? Yes, she gave her son too much power over her, but Leo could understand why. “That’s okay. It’s a lot easier than you think. We’ll have some coffee, maybe a sandwich because I’m starving, and we’ll talk. I’ll ask you questions, you’ll ask me some, and at the end, if one of us decides you were right and we really don’t have anything in common, we’ll go our separate ways.”

He really hoped they didn’t go their separate ways.

* * *

T
HREE
HOURS
LATER
, Penelope stopped in front of Leo’s place. It was a cute, small house, one story with a wide porch and big windows that made it look warm and welcoming.

Three hours. She couldn’t believe they’d spent so much time at the coffee shop. Couldn’t believe she’d enjoyed herself so much. She could understand why Andrew looked up to Leo. He was smart, charming and funny.

He’d told her about growing up in Shady Grove. About his family—his brothers and sister and their significant others, his nephew and preteen niece and the little girl of the woman his brother Eddie was seeing whom they all considered family already. Leo amused her with stories of life at the station where the firefighters seemed more like a brotherhood than coworkers.

He’d even persuaded her to open up a bit about living in California and growing up in so many different places. How she’d been so different from her classmates, how she’d considered it a badge of honor to be herself and how she worried about Andrew not feeling the same way.

She liked Leo. It was a surprising fact to acknowledge. And daunting. She wasn’t in the same league as him when it came to looks or dating experience. There were still plenty of reasons for them to be apart, plenty she’d been right about, such as their age difference and her having a son. But they’d also had several things in common—their taste in music, for example, though his favorite movies tended to be action thrillers while she preferred more cerebral films.

She was flattered he’d been so persistent in pursuing her. And there was a definite spark between them, one she’d never experienced before. She’d always dismissed sexual or physical attraction as a fleeting thing, thinking that once the burning desire was satiated, the flame would simply die out. And then what would you have?

No, her marriage had been based on common ground, interests and goals.

Too bad it hadn’t worked out. It had looked so good on paper.

“Admit it,” Leo teased, playing with her hair. “You had a good time.”

She couldn’t deny it when she’d voluntarily spent three hours with the man, but she still wasn’t used to his charm, how he was so comfortable touching her casually, his fingers brushing her hand or trailing her neck. The way he laid his palm on the small of her back to let her precede him.

“It wasn’t as torturous as I’d imagined,” she told him.

He grinned, quick and honest. “I knew that sense of humor was in there somewhere.”

She liked that she could tease him. “Well, I suppose I can admit, in this instance, you were right.” She paused, unsure of what to say, then decided to say what was on her mind, in her heart. “I had fun. Thank you.”

Before she could change her mind, she leaned forward and brushed her mouth against his cheek, as he had kissed her the other night. His skin was warm and he smelled wonderful, like fresh air and sunshine mixed with the spicy scent of his aftershave.

She leaned back and their eyes locked. The interior of the car seemed to shrink. Heated. His eyes narrowed slightly and his hand curved around her neck, tugging her against him.

She pressed both hands to his chest. “Wha—what are you doing?”

“I’m going to kiss you.”

His words, the tone of his voice, sent a shiver through her from head to toe. She’d never had a man look at her so heatedly, with so much intent. “You said we were going to be friends,” she reminded him, but her voice sounded weak.

“Friends can kiss,” he told her, still bringing her closer, slowly, so slowly she had every opportunity to break free, to push him away.

She didn’t move.

His eyes open and on hers, he closed the distance between them and gently brushed his mouth against hers. “See?” he murmured.

Her eyes widened. That was it? Disappointment and a deep, crushing panic filled her. That was all she got? All he was going to take?

And she realized he wouldn’t take. Not more than she was ready to give. Not more than she offered freely. And she had hardly done that, had she? She had no idea how to flirt with him, or seduce him into kissing her again. “I don’t want us to be friends,” she blurted.

He raised his eyebrows. “You don’t?”

She shook her head. “I don’t think it’s the wisest course of action.”

Disappointment settled over his features and he eased back. Leaned his head against the seat. “I see.” His grin masked, but didn’t hide, his frustration. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.” He reached for the door handle.

Oh, no, he was leaving.

“No.” She grabbed his arm. “You don’t understand.”

He glanced at her hand, then at her face. “I guess I don’t. Why don’t you explain it to me?”

“I’m not sure I can.”

He patted her hand. “You can,” he told her, sounding emphatic, as if he believed in her, in her ability to do this even though it was difficult and went against every instinct she possessed.

She believed it, too, if only to prove him right. To show him his faith in her was appreciated.

“I don’t want to be your friend,” she whispered, swallowing the fear and self-doubts crowding her throat, trying to stop her words. “I want...”

“Tell me,” he said softly after a few moments.

She could do this. In her car on the dark street, it felt safe. She felt safe with him. In this instance, she could take a risk. Could be brave.

If only once.

“I want you.”

His eyes flashed, but she didn’t wait for him to refuse her or to take the lead. She yanked him forward and kissed him, hard. He jolted in surprise but then he groaned. His tongue swept into her mouth and his hands caressed her from shoulder to waist and up again. She had no idea how long they stayed that way, hands clutching, mouths fused, but when they finally separated and stared at each other, both were breathing hard, the windows of the car fogging up.

“I want to ask you to come inside,” he said. “I want to take you to bed, Penelope.”

Wow.
Wow, wow, wow.
It was flattering and frightening. Too much too fast. “I can’t. Not yet. You need to know, maybe not ever.”

He nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I figured.” Still, he leaned forward and gave her a sweet, warm kiss. “Too soon. That’s okay, I’m a patient guy. I can wait for you.”