Fireman Dad (2 page)

Jacob smiled at Marissa from across her office desk. The water he’d chugged down churned in his stomach at
her sweet grin of response. He hoped he hadn’t made too big an idiot of himself, staring at her the way he had outside when he first arrived. He’d been tempted to leave the sunglasses on to prevent her from noticing during his stroll across the lot. But she’d finally introduced herself in that confident, slightly Southern voice that warmed his insides like his favorite cinnamon rolls and settled in just as sweet, and he couldn’t help but relax.

And speaking of sweet—it took a special woman to get involved with a fundraiser like she was doing, for people she likely didn’t even know. Beautiful
and
compassionate. He hadn’t found that combination in a long time—and he’d certainly been looking.

With a start, Jacob realized he was staring again, but so was Marissa. He knew he should say something more to persuade her to plan his niece’s party—especially considering if a small business such as Your Special Day couldn’t find time to do him a favor, the larger companies in town were probably booked solid, too. But he was afraid that the moment he opened his mouth he’d mention something about how that flowered top brought out her green eyes, and he’d be in big trouble.

Marissa cleared her throat and broke the connection between them. “Again, I’m sorry. I wish there was time.”

Jacob hesitated. He hated being pushy, but he couldn’t bear the disappointment on Olivia’s face—or his sister-in-law’s—if he came home proverbially empty-handed. His brother’s wife, Liz, would insist it didn’t matter—but he said he’d do this for them, and he wanted to keep his word. Anyone could throw together a bunch of Mylar balloons and sprinkle confetti on a table. He wanted Olivia’s party to be done right. If their financial situation hadn’t changed, Liz would have gone all out for her only daughter, and he intended to do the same.

Hence his desperation for Marissa to take the job. Jacob could have just handed Liz the cash and told her to get whatever she wanted for the party, but she had enough on her plate. She deserved the break and the chance to be involved with Olivia on her big day instead of stuck in the kitchen cutting cake and cleaning up messes like in years past. He needed Marissa to say yes.

Jacob clicked his tongue, stalling. “Maybe I could help you out somehow with the fundraiser, so you’re not so swamped. Then you could do both.”

Marissa raised one eyebrow, and he took that as a sign that she was considering his random proposition. He rushed on before she lost interest. “I own a lawn business. I could help with ground prep or flower planting for the fundraiser. Whatever you needed—on one condition, of course.” He grinned, and Marissa smiled back before she glanced down at her planner.

Hopefully they could strike a deal and both get something they needed. Besides, it was the least he could do to volunteer his side job services, after his brother’s job was cut at the station and not his own. Jacob had more seniority within the fire department, having worked three years longer than Ryan had, but he’d been the one to convince his little brother to go for it in the first place. Ryan had aced the academy and dedicated himself to two years of service, and what had it gotten him? A tiny severance and a big goodbye.

“That’s nice of you to offer.” Marissa looked up. “But I don’t even have a confirmed location yet. We can’t use your church because of weddings that are booked there the entire month of May. This is a busy time of year.”

He could fix that, too. “Hey, I have ten acres south of the city limits. That should be plenty of room for
whatever you have planned.” He gave a pointed look to the blank pages in front of her. “Or
will
have planned.”

She laughed. “It is sort of hard to make arrangements when you aren’t sure of the venue.” Marissa rolled in her lower lip and she studied him in some sort of unofficial test. He met her gaze full-on, and tried to ignore the attraction flickering in his stomach.
Business, this is business.
Even if she was one of the most beautiful women he’d come across in a long time.

Marissa inhaled. “One condition, huh?”

“Two guesses what it might be.” He winked.

Her mouth twitched into a smile, and Jacob fought to keep his own in check. He must have passed her scrutiny, because she finally nodded. “I’ll have to see the property for myself before I can say for sure, but I think I will take you up on that offer. One last-minute party for ten acres of fundraising.” She held out her hand.

“It’s a deal.” Jacob shook her hand for the second time that day, trying not to dwell on how soft her palm felt against his calloused one. “You won’t regret it.” Not to mention having the festival on his own property would make the landscaping aspect easier, since he kept his yard up regularly. He’d never been a fan of the guys in the department who ran side businesses like his and didn’t even maintain their own yards. What would a client think if they drove by his house and saw knee-high weeds?

“I really appreciate this.” Marissa settled back into her chair, crossing one leg over the other and relaxing as if a burden had been lifted.

“What, being coerced?” Jacob laughed. “Happy to help.”

She chuckled. “Now that I have a location, I can get started on the fun stuff.”

“Which is?” he prodded, wanting her to keep smiling.

“The
when
and
where
are important,” she answered. “But the
what
—that’s the good part.”

She was cute when she was in her element. Jacob crossed his arms over his chest, his turn to study her now. “So
what
is your vision for the fundraiser?”

“I was originally hoping to pull off a mini-carnival, but was afraid I wouldn’t have the space.” She gestured at him. “But I think ten acres will suffice.”

“Well, it’s technically about nine. I do have a house on part of it.” He winced in mock dread. “Is that a deal breaker?”

A flirty spark lit Marissa’s eyes, and she held up one finger in a warning. “We already shook on it, so don’t think you can back out that easily.”

Her teasing gaze linked with his, and a rush of warmth filled Jacob’s chest. “Trust me. Backing out is not on the agenda.”

M
arissa inched her SUV forward in the line of cars, all waiting for Orchid Hill Elementary to open its doors and release a horde of children from its red-bricked depths. She kept one eye out for Owen, grateful the crossing guard was on duty in his bright yellow vest and hat. Owen was usually a pretty cautious child, but sometimes his excitement ran away with him and made him less than careful.

He was like his father that way.

Her cell rang and Marissa dug it out of her purse. “Hello?” She craned her head to see around the car in front of her. Owen must still be waiting with his teacher in the school yard.

“Marissa, hi. This is Jacob Greene.”

She was glad her foot was already on the brake, or she’d have jerked her SUV to a dead halt. “Oh! Hi. Hello.” The words filtered out more like a croak than a greeting, and she mentally chided herself for the lack of professionalism.

He hesitated. “Did I catch you at a bad time?”

“No, I’m just picking up Owen from school.” She cleared her throat, hoping to eliminate the frog that
seemed to have taken up residence. When she gave Jacob her business card yesterday at the office, she never imagined he’d have called so soon—or at all, for that matter.

“Gotcha.” He laughed. “I’ve picked up Olivia before—I know that can be a rough crowd.”

“No kidding.”

Jacob continued. “Were you able to get that tire fixed?”

“Yes, after work yesterday. There was a nail, so they patched it. I’m good to go, thanks to you.”

“Nah, I didn’t do much. Nothing anyone else wouldn’t have done.” Jacob brushed off the compliment, and Marissa couldn’t help but admire the humility. Kevin had always soaked in—even sought out—praise, always trying to be the hero. But why was she comparing them?

She licked her dry lips. “So, what’s up? Did you have another idea for your niece’s party?” Surely he hadn’t called only to check on her tire.

“Actually, I was calling to ask you a question.” Now it was Jacob’s turn to clear his throat, and Marissa could have sworn she detected a hint of apprehension beneath the cough. “Do you have plans for Friday evening?”

She never had plans on a Friday night, unless you counted the occasional pizza-and-a-movie outing with Owen, or the weekends she spent with her laptop catching up on work. “Not at the moment.” She wanted to ask why, but held her tongue, afraid to hope. He wasn’t asking her out. They’d just met yesterday and he was hiring her as a professional event planner.
Come back to real life, Marissa. This isn’t one of Owen’s Disney DVDs.

“I was wondering if you’d like to meet me at the Boardwalk downtown.”

Her cell phone slipped from her fingers into her lap. Marissa scrambled to grab it as the woman in the van behind her honked the horn. “The Boardwalk?” She accelerated into the vacated spot ahead in line, her thoughts racing even faster. The Orchid Hill Boardwalk was a huge shopping district on the river outside of downtown, with a movie theater, restaurants and a giant two-story carousal. It was considered to be a popular dating scene among couples of all ages, though family-oriented as well. She’d taken Owen a few Saturdays ago for an ice cream cone and new shoes. But going with Jacob on a Friday night—that was different. She’d need to find a babysitter, and something to wear, and—

“They have several party goods stores and a garden nursery, so I thought we could get a head start on the birthday party plans and what you might need for the fundraiser.”

Marissa jerked back to the present as reality crashed around her. Her heart thumped an unsteady rhythm and she gripped the steering wheel tighter with her free hand. Not a date. She ignored the rock of disappointment in her stomach. Probably for the best—business, she was used to. Dating, not so much.

Jacob’s voice rose slightly in volume. “Hello? Are you still there?”

She realized with a start she hadn’t answered. “Yes, sorry. Just … driving.” More like driving herself crazy. She briefly closed her eyes to straighten her shaky world back on its axis.

“Is that a yes to my invitation, or a yes that you’re still there?” Jacob’s teasing tone warmed her more than the sun reflecting off the dashboard and onto her bare forearms, and the disappointment faded slightly.

Marissa smiled. “Both.” Why not? Might as well
discuss business outside on the Boardwalk instead of at her desk, where she stayed cooped up most days. She hadn’t been out with anyone other than Owen or her mother in a long time.

Too long.

“Great.” Jacob let out an exhale. “If you give me your address, I’d be happy to pick you up.”

“Thanks, but I’ll just meet you there.” Of course Jacob would be a gentleman and want to pick her up, even for a business meeting, but she had one hard-and-fast rule—Owen didn’t meet any men in her life until it had the potential to be serious. If this wasn’t even a date, then there was no need to confuse—or egg on—her son. Owen had been trying to convince Marissa to go on dates for months.

“No problem. I’ll see you at the Boardwalk at six-thirty, then.”

“See you then.” Marissa said goodbye and hung up, relieved Jacob hadn’t pushed the issue of meeting him. She would hate to make things awkward by explaining her reasons, but when it came to Owen, his welfare came first—even if that decision often had her keeping people at arm’s length.

Marissa peered around the car in front of her and finally spotted Owen jogging toward the SUV. She unlocked the back passenger door and he climbed inside, shrugging off his backpack and tossing it on the seat beside him. “Hey, buddy, how was your day?” Could he tell how flushed she felt? She aimed the AC vent toward her neck and turned to her son with a smile, trying to push aside the remaining disappointment lingering in her stomach. If Jacob had asked her on a real date, would she have even said yes? But it didn’t matter. There was no use analyzing what hadn’t happened.

Owen reached for his seat belt with a grin. “School was super cool!”

His hair was rumpled and he smelled like he’d had a little too much fun at recess, but that didn’t stop Marissa from stretching toward him. “Where’s my kiss?”

Owen rolled his eyes, but leaned forward and allowed a quick kiss on his forehead before he buckled in. Marissa fastened her own belt and merged into traffic. “What was the super cool part?” With Owen, that could be anything from finding a frog at recess to getting a decent grade on a math quiz. Either would be equally shocking. At least he made up for his lack of math ability with excellent reading and writing skills.

“Firemen came to our school today!”

Marissa’s eyes darted to the rearview mirror. Her own shock stared back in the reflection. Owen bounced in his seat, his eyes lit with excitement. “They talked about safety and stuff. We should check the batteries in our smoke detectors. Have you checked them?” He bounced again. “Have you?”

Marissa’s hands clenched around the steering wheel and she worked to keep her voice even. “Yes, buddy, I did a few weeks ago.” How could his class have done a fire safety demonstration without a notice? The teacher should have sent something out to the parents—though most parents wouldn’t have the same issues with it that she did. Her knuckles whitened. If her father had arranged for this and didn’t even bother to tell her—

“One of the firemen pulled a quarter from my ear and he let me keep it!” Owen held up a shiny coin and flipped it from one palm to the other. “See? He was so cool! He told me all about firefighting and how I could do it one day, too, if I wanted. Like Grandpa and Daddy.”

Marissa forced a smile in the mirror at Owen as she flipped on the blinker. “That is pretty exciting.” Only halfway listening as he rattled on about fire trucks and all the equipment the firefighters had shown him, Marissa made a sharp left and veered off course toward Oak Street.

She had a stop to make.

“Grandpa!” Owen ran inside Central Station ahead of Marissa into his grandfather’s office.

Fire Chief Lyle Brady twisted in his leather swivel chair, eyes widening with a flicker of surprise. “Well, this is a shock. What brings you two by?”

Marissa leaned against the doorjamb as her dad opened his arms to Owen. Owen hesitated, then edged toward him with a shy grin—which promptly faded upon inspection of his grandfather’s desk. All evidence of shyness erased, Owen tilted his head to one side. “Hey, where’s the candy? You used to have caramel squares on your desk.”

Marissa bit back a snort. There was the son she knew and loved.

“The receptionist has it at her desk now.” Chief patted his ample stomach. “It was too tempting at close range.”

“Can I have a piece?” Owen asked his grandpa, then caught himself and met Marissa’s gaze instead. “I mean, may I have a piece, Mom?”

“Sure, buddy. You go get some candy and let me talk to Grandpa alone for a minute.” She stepped sideways as Owen barreled past to charm the receptionist out of her candy bowl.

“That doesn’t sound good.” Chief crossed his arms over his chest. “But you haven’t been by in months, so I’m not surprised there’s some kind of reason now.”

“The door opens both ways, Dad.” Marissa folded her arms in front of her racing heart, mirroring her father’s image.

“Is this about the fundraiser and the layoffs?” His thick eyebrows furrowed nearly into one. “I told you it’s not good politics for family to be involved in business. This thing could get messy.”

Marissa inhaled, intending to count to ten but only getting to four. “Trust me, you’ve made your stand on that clear. But that’s not why I came.”

“Go on.” He leaned forward.

Marissa bit her lip, fighting the swirl of emotions raging in her stomach. She waited until the boiling cauldron settled. “I can’t believe you arranged for your men to speak to Owen’s class at school and didn’t at least warn me.”

“Warn you? Is that all?” Her father laughed, a booming, husky sound she never heard often enough growing up. He relaxed backward, his bulk causing the chair to squeak. “They were telling the kids to stay away from matches, not escorting them through a live drill.”

“It was more than that, and you know it.” Marissa’s voice rose against her will and she quickly glanced over her shoulder down the hall into the lobby. Owen was attempting to juggle three caramel squares as he told the receptionist about his homework assignment. Just in case, Marissa stepped inside the office and shut the door behind her all but a crack.

Her father’s eyebrows rose, but to his credit he waited for her to finish.

“All Owen talked about the entire drive here was how cool the firemen were and how he wants to drive a fire truck when he grows up.” She bit back the rest of Owen’s
sentence before the words could leave her mouth.
Just like Grandpa.

She swallowed.
Just like Daddy.

He shrugged. “Hey, firemen
are
pretty cool.”

“Dad.” Marissa’s eyes narrowed. Would he ever take her seriously? Did he not care that she lost her family because of the career he held in such high esteem?

Chief Brady released a heavy sigh and braced his elbows against the desk. “Marissa, you’re overreacting.” Creases marred the skin by his eyes, more so than she remembered noticing the last time she’d seen him. But that had been like he said—months ago. In fact, probably not since Owen’s school play around President’s Day. Even though she’d been back in Orchid Hill for some time now, her father remained absent as usual. Her mom made efforts to stop by at least once a week with treats for Owen, but the chief rarely came along, choosing to spend his time at the office instead.

Not that she minded all that much. Over the years, Marissa and her father had reached some kind of silent agreement to disagree, about—well, everything. Sometimes the absence made it easier.

Even if it did still rub her heart raw.

Her dad continued, “Owen is seven, not seventeen. He’s going to want to be a cowboy, an astronaut and a pro ball player over the next couple of years. Take it with a grain of salt.” He shrugged. “He’s a boy. Boys have big dreams.”

“But we don’t have anyone in our family who flies into space or rides rodeos for a living.” Marissa shot a pointed glance at the framed certificates, awards and degrees decorating the office walls. “Your career is already an influence on him.” A fact that kept her up
more nights than she liked to admit, locked in fear of the future because of the past. Maybe Kevin’s death was chalked up to an accident, but accidents happened in the world of firefighting.

A lot.

Her dad flexed his hands, popping his knuckles. “It’s a career I happen to love, Marissa.”

No kidding. The bitterness felt heavy on her tongue and Marissa swallowed, looking away as emotion burned in her throat. She wouldn’t get into the past here, not now. It wouldn’t matter anyway—she’d learned that tear-filled lesson years ago. With her Dad, work always came first.

Apparently it still did.

“I can’t promise to go out of my way to steer Owen in an opposite direction.” Chief Brady shrugged, one broad shoulder straining against the neck of his white uniform. “I’m sorry, but if he wants to be a fireman one day, there are worse careers to have.”

“There are also much safer ones.”

Chief tapped his fingers against his desktop, a tick that meant he’d reached a new level of frustration and was trying to hold it back. She might not have learned the sound of his laughter over the years, but she’d certainly learned his tells of anger. He released a sigh. “Marissa, there’s enough stress around this office right now with the layoffs and negative publicity from the press. This isn’t a big deal, and I beg you not to make it one.”

Marissa lowered her voice until it whispered through her lips. “In case you forgot, Owen doesn’t have a dad and I don’t have a husband because of your
beloved
career.”

Chief didn’t meet her eyes, but the tapping increased
as he stared at his desk calendar. A flicker of guilt made Marissa wonder if she’d gone too far, but she pushed it aside. It was impossible to go too far with Chief. He was never around to notice. He might have climbed the ranks in the department faster than most men his age, but at what cost? His desk, organized and neat like his dresser and nightstand had always been at home, lay void of anything personal or resembling family. No photos. No mementos.