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Fireman Dad Page 4
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Jacob opened the door to the party store and motioned for Marissa to walk in first. “Olivia’s mom—Liz—suggested anything pink, frilly or princess. Pretty much everything I know nothing about.” He snorted. “If she wanted a superhero, however, I’d be her man.”
Marissa grabbed a shopping basket and led Jacob toward the far right section of the store where the girlier items were located. “Closet comic book fan, huh?”
He offered a guilty grin, pausing to examine a box full of old-fashioned Slinky toys. “It’s not that big a secret. My coworkers tease me all the time whenever a new superhero movie comes out.”
She could see that. After all, Jacob already possessed a superhero vibe, playing the role of rescuer to his brother’s family and even saving her from a lonely Friday night.
But his potential hero status had nothing to do with the party plans in question, and she’d only get in trouble following that line of thought. She led the way past the balloon counter. Interesting that he referred to his lawn service employees as coworkers. Such humility, if that’s what it was, would certainly be a refreshing attribute in a man. Not that it mattered—Jacob was her client.
So why was she constantly reminding herself of that fact?
She shook her head to clear it, trying to focus on their conversation instead of on her own wayward thoughts. “Hey, there’s nothing wrong with superheroes. Owen would attest to that.”
“I don’t think Olivia would agree. She’s easy to please, but evil villains and red capes at her party is pushing it.” He chuckled.
They rounded the corner and were suddenly surrounded by pink fluff. Jacob threw his arms up to shield his face in an exaggerated, dramatic duck. “Yikes, it’s the princess row.”
“Nothing on this aisle bites, I promise.” Marissa laughed, swatting his arm. “It’s the right decision, trust me. Girls Olivia’s age usually love a princess theme, and there are a ton of options for games and food. It’s a win-win.”
Jacob picked up a plastic jeweled tiara. “I guess you’re right. Every girl—or woman, for that matter—deserves to be a princess for a day.”
Their gazes collided and lingered before Marissa quickly looked away. Did she agree? Princess for a day—nice concept for a seven-year-old, not so realistic for a single mother. She lifted her chin, hoping to steer the conversation back on course and away from the heavy. “So, princess theme it is?”
“Princess theme it is.” Jacob picked up a sparkly fairy wand from a box on the shelf. “What about some of these?” He waved it through the air, sending a shower of glitter cascading to the floor. “On second thought, Liz might kill me—or even worse, make me vacuum after the party is over.”
Marissa took the wand and replaced it on the shelf. “I actually already have some less glittery versions of these in my leftover-prop box at the office, along with some other things the girls will like.” She smiled. “The biggest problem with this party is going to be narrowing down my list of ideas.”
“Good. I was hoping this would be easy, since I railroaded you into the short-notice favor.”
Marissa shook her head as she paused in front of a huge display of stickers. “No, trust me—you’re doing me the favor by letting me host the fundraiser on your land.” She tossed several packages of princess stickers into the basket she held. “Speaking of, we should probably plan a time for me to see your property. I need a visual of the layout so I can get things moving for the festival.”
“Good idea. Let me check my schedule.” Jacob pulled out his phone and clicked a few buttons. His eyes skimmed the contents. “How’s Monday around one-thirty?”
Marissa set the basket on the floor, then plucked her day planner from her purse. “Fine with me.” She made a quick notation. “That would give me plenty of time before I need to pick up Owen from school.”
Jacob gestured to the planner. “Does that thing travel everywhere with you?”
“Everywhere. It’s funny, I got used to carrying Owen’s diaper bag for so many years that when he got older, I kept feeling like I was forgetting something every time I left the house.” She tucked it back inside her purse. “This is my new security blanket.”
“Well, I just admitted I’m a comic fan, so your secret is safe with me.”
Safe. Now, there was a concept. Marissa risked a glance into his eyes, now a darker blue, as he picked up the basket from the floor and handed it to her. The teasing lilt had left his gaze, replaced with something deeper.
“I don’t want a train party! I want a zoo party!” A child in the next aisle screamed a tantrum, and Marissa jerked, losing the moment. Or had she only imagined the chemistry sizzling between them?
“At least she’s a young woman who knows what she wants.” Jacob nodded toward the commotion with a laugh. “Hey, how about feather boas?”
“Of course. Grab the purple ones, too.” Marissa sneaked a glance at Jacob’s profile as he draped the boas into the basket. There was something incredibly endearing about watching a grown man pick out and handle little-girl toys.
She wished she could recapture the moment they’d shared before the distraction from the next row shattered it with reality. But as the parent in the next aisle knew all too well, reality came with being a mom. There was a reason fairy tale princesses didn’t have children—it wasn’t always happily ever after and romance. Maybe the interruption had been for the best. Anything other than a business relationship would be a joke. Marissa was a mommy first and entrepreneur second, with little room for a third label.
Even if for the first time since Kevin’s death, she sort of wanted one.
The wind teased the edges of Marissa’s blond hair and blew several strands across her cheek as they ambled toward the parking garage. Jacob wished he could brush them back, but the night had gone so well, he wasn’t about to mess it up now with something that forward. The moon cut a path between the clouds, providing them with a momentary spotlight before they walked under the cover of the concrete garage.
After leaving the party store, they’d gotten burgers and ice cream cones and sat outside on a bench by the river to eat. In between bites, they talked about Owen, Marissa’s business, Jacob’s brother and family, and various plans for the upcoming festival. The more they talked, the better they connected, bouncing ideas off each other and feeding upon the other’s creativity. The longer he remained in Marissa’s presence, the more he felt like he’d known her forever.
“Where’d you park?” He scanned the almost empty bottom level of the garage, a reminder of how late the evening had gotten—and how quickly it had passed.
“I think … over there? My sense of direction isn’t the best.” Marissa pointed toward the back with a shrug. “It’s sort of a guessing game every time I leave a restaurant or the mall. Owen usually remembers better than I do.”
Jacob grinned. “Then let’s see how you did without him.” He led the way, unable to help but picture several more nights exactly like this one—maybe next time holding hands or bringing Owen along for a ride on the two-story carousal. If the kid was anything like his mother, he had to be one amazing little boy.
What would it be like to have a family of his own? Sure, there would be fights and tantrums, like the little girl displayed in the party store, but the good times would outweigh the bad. Hanging out with Ryan, Liz and Olivia reminded Jacob of his desire for his own family more and more lately—and everything about him and Marissa seemed to mesh. They had several things in common—their mutual love for kids, the outdoors and double-scoop ice cream cones—but enough differences between them to keep the conversation interesting. She was a great mom—that much was obvious in the way her eyes sparkled as she told stories of Owen’s antics—not to mention a confident businesswoman.
And there was no question she was beautiful.
They reached Marissa’s SUV, and Jacob paused beside it. “I almost didn’t recognize it without a flat tire.”
Marissa laughed as she stashed their shopping ba
gs into the backseat. “Let’s hope that was a one-time thing.” She checked her watch and grimaced. “I better hurry. I told Owen’s babysitter I’d be back by nine.”
Jacob opened the driver’s door for her and grinned. “Mommy to the rescue.” He supposed dating Marissa—if she ever even agreed to a real date—would be like that. Owen came first, and he had absolutely no problem with the fact. He’d actually be upset if that wasn’t the case.
“Thanks for asking me here.” Marissa fumbled with her car keys. “I’m, uh—really looking forward to working with you.”
A truck rumbled down their row, and Jacob eased a step closer to be heard over the noise—or so he told himself. “So am I.” He held out his hand to assist her into the driver’s seat, and fought the urge to let his grip linger. Don’t rush it, his conscience whispered a warning, and he pulled free before his fingers refused to obey. But he couldn’t pass up the chance to ask Marissa out. Who knew when he’d get another one? He hesitated, then braced one arm against the door to keep it open. “Would you like to do this again sometime?”
“Shop and eat junk food?” A teasing spark lit her eyes, and he thought for the hundredth time how beautiful she was.
“If you want.” Jacob smiled back. “But I was thinking about something a little more official.” He swallowed. If he’d read her signals wrong and she said no, then he had just officially made their working relationship awkward. But he had to know.
Surprise lit Marissa’s deep green eyes, and he could almost read the conflicting emotions darting across her expression. Interest. Doubt. Regret. Which would win? He waited, a knot slowly forming in his stomach.
“That would be … nice.”
Jacob let out his breath, unable to decipher who was more surprised by her answer—him or her. But regardless, he’d take it.
“Great.” He lowered his arm as she inserted the key into the wheel, the ignition dinging. “We’ll talk about that soon.” Very soon.
“I’d like that.” They smiled, then Marissa broke the connection as she pulled on her seat belt. “If I haven’t said so yet, this is a great thing you’re doing for the families of the laid off firemen. They’re going to appreciate it a lot.”
“It’s nothing much. My brother deserves a break after the layoffs. I only wish I could do more.” He could never do enough to ease the guilt he felt, but he’d go down trying.
“Wait—the fire department layoff?” Marissa tilted her head to one side in surprise.
Jacob blinked. “I didn’t mention that before now? Ryan was one of the firemen let go. That’s why I’m helping out with Olivia’s party.”
“No, you never mentioned the specifics, just that he was suddenly unemployed. Wow, I’m sorry to hear that.” Admiration flickered in Marissa’s gaze. “But I’m sure your helping with the fundraiser will encourage your brother. Family support is so important.”
“I hope so. None of the guys deserved this.” Jacob’s stomach tightened. It had been like losing family after the first round of cuts. The worst part was that rumor had it the city council wasn’t done yet. But no need to stir up the bitterness when tonight had gone so well. Come to think of it, had he even mentioned he was a fireman? They’d talked about the party, the fundraiser and Owen and Olivia most of the night.
Marissa started the engine with a roar, interrupting his thoughts. “I wish everyone was as supportive of the fundraiser as you are—like my dad, for instance.” She raised her voice above the rumble.
He knew she needed to leave, but now he was confused. Why would her father not care about the affected firemen and their families? How could any civilian not care? Ever since the layoffs, the local newspapers had been flooded with letters to the editor about their concerns. He couldn’t imagine someone feeling the opposite. “What do you mean, your dad?”
She gripped the steering wheel with both hands. “Fire Chief Brady.”
Jacob’s heart slammed against his rib cage with a catastrophic jolt.
“He says it’s a conflict of interest for me to be involved, but I believe it’s the right thing to do. Not only for my business, but as a person. I just couldn’t turn down the church when they asked.” She kept talking but her words rushed straight over Jacob’s head and into the stifling air of the garage as he desperately tried to comprehend this new truth. Chief Brady. His boss. Marissa’s father. Marissa Brady Hawthorne.
“Oh, no, it’s nine o’clock now. I’ll see you Monday afternoon.” Marissa held up her hand in a quick wave. “Good night.”
“Good night.” The words croaked from Jacob’s tight throat as the SUV door slammed shut between them.
Then she was gone.
Chapter Four
Marissa punched the button in her SUV to open the garage door, her headlights piercing the late evening darkness and reminding her how badly she needed to power-wash the house. Usually such chores only served as a gateway into overwhelming reminders of how she didn’t have backup anymore—no man around to take out the trash or mow the yard, no husband to change burned out lightbulbs, check the oil in her car or get rid of scary bugs in the bathroom.
But tonight, for the first time in a while, the familiar cloak of regret didn’t settle itself around her shoulders. Instead, an image of Jacob chasing a fly around her living room flitted through her mind, and she shook her head with a grin. Not even one official date behind them, and already she fantasized about the poor man doing grunt work. But with the way he so easily fit into her imagination, it felt as if she’d already known him forever.
She sneaked a peek in her rearview mirror at Owen, sound asleep in the back. He’d had a fun night with his friend from school, and Mrs. Johnson hadn’t minded her being late at all. “You need to get out more, enjoy life.” The middle-aged woman’s soft voice prodded Marissa’s conscience as she helped buckle Owen into the backseat. “You’re a mom, Marissa, but you’re still a woman who deserves to have fun. I’m glad you seem to be remembering that again.”
Mrs. Johnson must have misunderstood, since the evening was simply a business meeting. But Jacob still provided Marissa with a much-needed reminder of how nice it was to be treated like a lady, not just a boss, a friend or a parent. The way he insisted on opening doors for her and letting her walk first, the way he’d looked into her eyes as if what she said really meant something, proved there were still bona fide gentlemen in Orchid Hill after all. He even listened to her talk about her business and Owen for a good portion of the evening as if there were nothing else he’d rather hear. It was a refreshing change.
One she could get used to.
Marissa inched her SUV into the dark garage and powered the door closed behind them. She twisted around in her seat, mouth open to wake Owen, but the words faded on her lips. Her son slept peacefully, one hand tucked under his cheek, a swatch of hair crowding his forehead and his other hand holding one end of the fire truck he’d been determined to take with him.
Moments like these were few and far between lately. “You’re growing up fast.” Her whisper, so soft she could barely hear it, lingered in the air between them like a benediction. One of the greatest tragedies of Kevin’s death was Owen losing a father figure. No one could ever replace Kevin in Owen’s life, but he needed a positive male influence. Unfortunately, it didn’t look as if Owen could get that from his grandfather, either.
Marissa smiled wistfully as Owen stirred into a more comfortable position. Maybe she’d been depriving Owen in the long run by devoting all her time to her business, trying to guarantee financial security instead of taking time to date and find her son a potential stepfather. Maybe it was hurting Owen that she avoided the social scene and rarely took time to fill her own emotional needs. But wasn’t that part of being a good mom?
Too heavy a topic to think about after such a wonderful evening.
Marissa climbed out and opened Owen’s door, unbuckled his seat belt and tried to remove the fire truck from his grip. At least tonight had been a distraction from the arg
ument with her father at his office, and the anger she still felt simmering in her stomach whenever she thought of a busybody fireman trying to influence her son into a career she dreaded. The familiar wave of indignation washed over her at the memory, and she shook her head to clear it. No sense in ending the night with sour thoughts. Those issues would keep until tomorrow.
“Wake up, buddy.” She jostled Owen’s shoulder. He stirred again, but didn’t wake up. Marissa shook a little harder, wishing she was strong enough to carry him to bed like she did years before. Owen muttered in his sleep, then flung his arm sideways, clocking her in the side of the head with the fire truck.
Marissa jerked upright, biting back the frustration that rushed to her lips. She closed her eyes and rubbed the offended spot on her head as Owen let out a fresh snore.
She really didn’t like that truck.
Jacob loved fire trucks. Even on days like today when he was stuck washing them, he couldn’t help but admire what the trucks symbolized. Rescue. Redemption. This one vehicle could do everything from putting out a fire that threatened to consume someone’s life and belongings, to stretching a ladder into a tree to rescue a family pet. Of course, the latter was typically more annoying than the former, especially at 2:00 a.m., but he never tired of seeing a child’s face light up at the return of a furry friend.
Besides, focusing on how much he loved his job distracted him from the memory of Marissa’s smile.
Jacob dropped his sponge back into the bucket of sudsy water and reached for the garden hose. “Crank it,” he hollered from the driveway outside the bay to Steve. He waited for the water to gurgle, then aimed the green tube at the top of the truck. Water gushed out and Jacob wiped his sweating forehead with his shirtsleeve as he sprayed. Try as he might, he couldn’t erase the dreaded repeat of Marissa’s words at the end of last night. “My dad—Fire Chief Brady.” The simple sentence pulverized his brain until he could barely think straight. Of all the dads in all of the world, why did hers have to be his boss?