Читать книгу The Firefighter's Cinderella - Dominique Burton, Dominique Burton - Страница 7

Natasha Bennington could vaguely see mile marker 26 through blurry eyes.

She prayed her legs would hold for the final two-tenths of the marathon.

Normally she loved the vistas of Ocean Beach that Great Avenue Highway in San Francisco provided. Today Tasha couldn’t have cared less. All she could think about was reaching the finish line. She brought the water bottle to her lips, but no amount could quench her thirst.

The sun was so hot! She adjusted her visor again and hoped her body would keep moving. As a native of the cosmopolitan city on the bay, she couldn’t remember the weather ever being this suffocating in early September. Was she imagining the heat? She could feel herself slowing as she trudged along the sweltering route.

Over the music playing on her headphones, she could hear the shouting and screaming from onlookers who lined the streets to cheer on their loved ones. It hurt to know there was no one yelling for her, let alone waiting for her at the finish line.

As the only child of United States Congressman George Bennington, she had spent all twenty-seven years of her life as a side note in his demanding schedule. Her mother, Genevieve Armstrong Bennington, was his perfect counterpart, ready at a moment’s notice to attend parties, events and galas. Once he’d risen to power nothing stood in his way, especially not parental duties at home.

Rounding the last corner, Tasha could sense her mind becoming disjointed from her body. She’d heard marathons were ninety percent mental. Now she knew why. The only thing that kept her moving was the need to follow her fellow runners up Lincoln Way.

Why the pavement seemed hotter on this street than any other was beyond her ability to process.

And now her shoes were failing her—those trustworthy, failsafe, special pair of running shoes she’d bought three weeks ago. Her feet burned with every step she took. The heat was like venom, swiftly taking over her whole body.

As she passed the last water station, Tasha grabbed cup after cup to dump on her head in an attempt to cool herself off. She knew she looked like a disaster, but it didn’t matter. She tried to remember why her coworkers, who’d become her close friends this past year, weren’t going to be here. At this point it was difficult to remember any names.

Oh, yeah. Richard and Daphne.

Now, why were they gone?

Work?

Work!

She knew she needed to focus on something other than the pain so she wouldn’t collapse.

The bill from Arizona. She took another sip from her water bottle.

Focus! The damned Bill SB 1070 from Arizona! That bill impeded her cause of helping illegal immigrants already in America. She hated the term “Illegal Aliens.”

These were real people trying to get green cards and become citizens. It was because of bills like this one that she’d started her pro bono practice.

Her father had been furious with her for leaving the prestigious Bennington and Bennington law firm her grandfather had started with his brother. Tasha’s desire to help the very people her dad was determined to keep out of the country through his power as a congressman made things even worse.

Now, what are Richard and Daphne working on?

Oh, yeah. The Mendez case!

At the thought of the name, she could feel another kind of fire burning inside her. If there was one person in all Northern California who was her nemesis, it was Fernando Mendez.

The workers in the fields of his famous Napa Valley vineyards were all illegal immigrants. Mendez and his men lured innocent men and women from Mexico and Latin American countries to his grape fields with promises of green cards, or better yet, citizenship!

Except it was all a lie.

Once the workers got here, they were stuck, left with no choice but to work and live under deplorable conditions, hiding from the law.

Now that Mendez was under federal investigation for running a drug cartel and participating in money laundering, as well as other criminal activities, Tasha knew Border Patrol would be involved in raids. People working in the vineyards without papers would be sent home.

An old roommate of Tasha’s who worked the legal angle at Border Patrol had called her at ten last night. He’d warned there might be a raid at Mendez’s vineyard this weekend. As a precaution, she’d sent Daphne and Richard to see if one did occur, and if so, who was taken.

At least ten families had come to her firm for help. They depended on her and her team to keep their members together. Tasha and her two trusted coworkers wanted to help these poor people whose only crime was to strive for a better life.

That was what her forefathers had wanted when they’d immigrated to America.

For the past year, Tasha’s paralegal secretary, Daphne, had been like a sister to her. And Richard, the new attorney who’d come on board ten months ago, had been her biggest support in the courtroom—as well as for this marathon. He’d been her jogging buddy, teaching her how to run properly and train. If he hadn’t, she wouldn’t have been fit enough to do this race.

He’d also introduced her to a new way of eating. It was amazing how a low-carbohydrate, high-protein diet helped take the weight off, yet gave her lots of energy to train.

But right now she felt so alone. No coach, no friends and no Tim. Oh, don’t think about him. It isn’t allowed, Tasha. You have to move on.

At the finish line, marked by an arbor of balloons, the official timer was ticking. Just above it stretched the banner reading The Tim McGinnis Firefighters against Cancer Foundation Marathon.

Seeing Tim’s name filled Tasha with renewed pain. One year ago today she’d lost him to cancer. He’d been her best friend since childhood, and the only man she’d ever loved.

Instead of wallowing in sorrow, she’d done all the legal work to put this race together. Tim was a person who’d lived life to the fullest. He was always running, biking, rock climbing and, of course, fighting fires.

Since she was five Tasha had been in love with him, even if he hadn’t felt the same way about her. Deep inside she’d hoped that one day his feelings would change and he would love her back.

“Stupid girl,” she muttered.

Drawing closer to the finish line, she saw several of Tim’s fellow firefighters, who were volunteering on their day off. They were hard at work cutting timer chips off the runners’ shoes and presenting them with medals.

Among them was Captain C. J. Powell, whom Tim had considered his best friend. She hadn’t seen C.J. since the funeral.

The funeral …

Tasha had tried so hard to focus on moving forward with her life that she rarely looked back to mourn the man she’d cared about her whole life. But now grief unexpectedly swamped her. This was one aspect of the day she hadn’t mentally prepared for. Reaching the finish line seemed impossible. As her mind began to shut down, her breathing grew shallow. It was just too much.

With only twenty feet or so to go, Tasha got a closer look at C.J. He hadn’t changed one bit. A tall, broad-shouldered man in his mid-thirties, he had dark curly hair and intense blue eyes. Oh, he was a handsome devil, but she knew better than to be deceived.

“Just a few more steps,” she muttered to herself through dry lips as her feet stumbled across the finish line. Her joy and relief were lost in a haze. She felt as if she was falling, and then as if she was being carried. It was a heavenly sensation.

The last thing she remembered seeing was the concern in a pair of blue eyes.

IN HONOR OF HIS LATE best friend, C. J. Powell had been handing out finisher medals at the end of the charity race. He would rather have spent the day at work, but this was for a good cause, and he was happy to help in some way console Tim’s parents in their grief.

He looked up at the bright blue sky and adjusted his sunglasses. The extreme heat had him worried. Many runners crossing the finish line were exhibiting signs of dehydration. If temperatures rose any higher, they could have a disaster on their hands.

He was so deep in his thoughts it took him a moment to notice a woman coming toward him, weaving on her feet. She was clearly overheated, and he could see she was going to collapse.

Fear gripped him as he ran to catch her. Luck was on his side, since she almost seemed to reach for him.

Once he had her slim form in his arms, his EMT training kicked into gear. The woman felt extremely hot. What he could see of her face not blocked by her sunglasses was red and flushed. She needed help, prompting him to shout to one of his colleagues. “Adam?”

The stocky older man jumped up from cutting timer chips off shoes. “Yes, Captain?”

“It’s too damn hot out here for these runners. Talk to Command. We may need to shut this race down.”

“Yes, sir.” The man looked at the woman in C.J.’s arms. “Do you know the patient?”

He glanced down at the willowy brunette and shook his head. “Afraid not, but I think she may have a case of heat exhaustion. I’ll be in triage if any of you need me.”

C.J. couldn’t explain his reaction to the woman he held so close, but it seemed right that he felt oddly protective of her. She had reached out to him. It was his job to get her to the paramedics quickly, and if needed, to an air-conditioned hospital.

A soft moan escaped the woman’s lips, interrupting his thoughts. C.J. hadn’t realized how fast he’d been maneuvering through the crowds. He slowed abruptly, not wanting to cause her any more distress.

The makeshift hospital was located away from the finishers’ corral, set up under some giant trees that offered a tiny bit of relief from the heat. Upon arrival he found a paramedic buddy of his from another station helping out.

“Jim?”

“Captain?”

“This runner may have a case of heatstroke.”

Jim eyed her legs, then lifted his eyebrows. “New girlfriend?”

C.J. was well used to his friend’s jocular manner. Yet for the first time since he’d known him, he didn’t like his teasing tone. C.J. held her closer and gave the other man a firm look that told him to back off.

“New patient.” He knew he sounded surly, but didn’t care.

“Let’s get her comfortable.” Jim led him to a makeshift cot in a shady corner. “By the way,” he said under his breath. “On behalf of our station, I’d like to thank you for the wonderful gift of three live chickens in our lockers.”

C.J. knew exactly what Jim was referring to, but kept his face stoic. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” For years their respective stations had been notorious for playing pranks on each other.

Jim left to get supplies without saying anything else. C.J. smiled and carefully laid his mystery woman on the cot. When he bent over to remove her visor and sunglasses, he realized there was something familiar about her.

He pushed the thought from his mind and undid the bib she wore, knowing she needed his help, not his ogling. An eye check first. Hers looked normal, if you could call eyes that looked like emerald pools normal. Again he seemed to recall something from his past.

C.J. shook his head and went to work. After checking her pulse, he put ice packs around her body and head. Even though she was bright red, with strands from her braided hair plastered to her cheeks and neck, he could tell she was a looker. The streaks of dried salt on the sides of her face accentuated her high cheekbones and full lips.

Once he had her settled, he tried to read the sweat-soaked race bib.

The sound of footsteps told C.J. his colleague was returning.

“Captain?” Jim said. “Just want you to know it only took us two hours to get the chickens out of the station house.” He laughed and chatted as he set up the IV.

It had been a long time since C.J. had laughed over a prank pulled at the station, which brought back memories of his old friend. Before Tim had died, he’d been a carefree man who’d laughed his way through life. If he were still alive, there was no way he’d have confessed to a practical joke they’d pulled.

C.J. and Tim had been known as the best pranksters the station had ever had. Now Troy, an EMT, and some rookies had taken over the job.

C.J. had lost any will to joke since Tim died, especially after he’d been made captain a year ago. But he’d allowed the pranks to continue as long as the boys didn’t get distracted from their work. If they were caught, it meant kitchen detail for a week.

When Jim could see he wasn’t making any progress in the teasing department, he said, “Have you read the patient’s bib? We need the information.”

“No,” C.J. answered curtly. “It’s wet. I’ve been trying to unpin it….”

“We have to get her to a hospital right away. Her temperature’s too high.”

“Pardon?” His thoughts were still caught up in Tim.

“Her temperature’s too high!” Jim repeated. “She needs more care than we can give her here.”

“I feared it might be that serious.” C.J. finally got the bib undone.

“Let’s move her to an ambulance now.” He took off to grab the closest paramedic with an ambulance on standby.

C.J. lifted the bib from her tank top, turning it around to find out the identity of the mystery patient. As he read the name, he did a double take, scanning the information three times to make sure his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him. This explained how he’d known her. Natasha Bennington!

C.J. could see vestiges of the old Tasha. Sure, she’d always had a pretty face, but she hadn’t looked like this.

Tasha had always been in love with Tim, the girl who’d never looked at another guy. No wonder those eyes had taken C.J. back in time. Natasha Bennington’s eyes often flashed a brilliant green whenever she was laughing or debating.

He shook his head in disbelief at this twist of fate, this strange link to the past. Natasha had loved Tim unconditionally, even knowing he felt only friendship in return.

In all his life C.J. had never seen anything like it. He’d often wondered what it would be like to have a woman love you so completely.

Tim had always claimed he’d been honest with Tasha. They were friends; that was all they ever would be. She understood that.

But Tim’s assessment of their relationship never set right with C.J. If a woman like Natasha had been in his life, he would never have let her just hang around. He would have dated her or ended it.

This new woman lying in front of him was difficult to fathom. He was still trying to figure it out when Jim hurried toward him with the other paramedics, who were ready to take her to the hospital.

“I’ll be accompanying the patient,” C.J. declared. “It turns out she’s a friend.”

“Sir? We need the vital information to contact her family,” one of the paramedics said.

“She’s Congressman Bennington’s daughter, Natasha. We have to keep this quiet. No leaks to the press. Is that understood?” He rose to his full height.

“But she wrote down another name.”

“I’ll check it out.”

The paramedic nodded with a puzzled expression. “I thought she was a heavier-set girl.”

“Well, she’s not anymore.”

C.J. followed the others, intending to keep his eye on the new Natasha. He had a few things he wanted to say to her.

THE LOUD SOUND OF SIRENS reverberated in Tasha’s head. She wondered where it was coming from. Had she slept in and missed the race?

She woke with a start, but found she couldn’t move very well. Looking down at her body, she found herself strapped to a gurney. It dawned on her that she was traveling in an ambulance.

“Tasha?” C.J. said, leaning over to speak to her. “Everything’s okay. We’re taking you to San Francisco General.”

“Those two statements are inconsistent. Tell me what’s going on.”

“Inconsistent?”

“Yes, as in, how am I okay if I’m going to the hospital with you in an ambulance?”

“You’ve always been the feistiest thing.”

“And your point?”

“You’re extremely dehydrated and you fainted in my arms at the finish line. I don’t know if you have heatstroke or heat exhaustion. We have to get you checked out.”

“I’m sure I didn’t faint.”

“Oh, you fainted all right.”

At the memory of collapsing in C.J.’s arms Tasha could feel her cheeks heating. How embarrassing.

“I tried to call your friend Richard, who was listed as your emergency contact. When I reached him, he said he wasn’t in town, and told us to go ahead and call your parents. He seemed very worried.”

“You called my parents?”

“Protocol.”

Her mind raced while she figured out how to handle what was coming. The press would be at the hospital when she was taken from the ambulance. Her day seemed to be getting worse by the minute.

With her dad running for reelection this year, he never missed a chance to be interviewed. She could see him calling his PR team to tip off reporters, so he could get on the evening news tonight.

“Who’s Richard?” C.J. asked.

“Pardon?”

“Richard. Who is he?”

She thought C.J. looked flustered. The fact that he wouldn’t take his eyes off her made her feel a little uncomfortable. For years she’d wondered what it would be like to be the object of his attention.

Better to keep him at arm’s length, she decided. It hurt to be around him because memories of Tim kept surfacing, reminding her of the woman she used to be. Reminding her of the man she’d loved.

“He’s my running buddy.”

“And your boyfriend?”

Tasha refused to answer, but glanced around the ambulance interior, noticing the paramedic. Normally she wasn’t aware of anyone else when C.J. was present, because he was larger than life.

“How close are we to the hospital?” she asked.

“Tasha? Look at me.” He sat on the other gurney, staring at her so intently it made her pulse quicken. “You win,” he eventually muttered. “We’re two minutes away. If you don’t want to talk about Richard, we won’t, but I’m curious.”

“When have you ever been curious about me?”

“You act like I was horrible to you.” He leaned forward.

With his face so close to hers, Tasha had to struggle to think. She could see his clean-shaven jaw and smell his cologne. “You weren’t horrible, but you were never that friendly, either.”

“You, me and Tim were all buds.”

“No, we were never buddies.”

“Tasha … I don’t know you like this. When did you change?”

She flashed him an icy smile. “Let’s see…. I’m not feeling well and I unexpectedly bump into a person from my past. And now I look different and you’re nice to me. Oh please, C.J. You’ll never change, will you?”

He frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You were always so shallow.”

“That’s not true,” he retorted.

“Of course it is! I’m skinny now, so you’re paying attention to me.”

“Captain?” the paramedic interrupted.

C.J. sat up. “Yes?”

“We’ve arrived at the hospital.”

The doors opened. Just as Tasha had feared, cameras flashed and reporters rushed forward to get the scoop on the congressman’s daughter.

As she was being transported into the hospital, she cried, “I’ll get you for this, Powell!”

But he’d jumped out of the ambulance to shelter her from the reporters with those wide shoulders of his. “I’ll take care of the press and be up to see you in a few minutes.”

He winked at her before the gurney was rolled through the entrance to the hospital.

“DARLIN’, YOUR FATHER AND I are worried about you,” Genevieve cooed in her Texas drawl. She sat on her daughter’s hospital bed in her tan trousers and white linen blouse. Both fit her lean figure to perfection.

“Mother, you heard the doctor. My blood work and vitals are all normal.” Tasha was determined to keep her voice low and cool. “I was dehydrated. It occasionally happens when you run a marathon.”

She leaned in to caress her daughter’s cheek, her bracelets clinking. “My, you’re such a beauty now.”

The emphasis on now stung every time Tasha heard it. How could a girl compete when her mother was beauty personified? Genevieve Bennington was a tall blonde with big blue eyes set in an oval face.

She could have been a model, and made sure to remind Tasha of that every chance she got. Instead, she’d chosen to be a wife and mother. Natasha often wondered why.

“Thank you, Hal.” George Bennington had finally decided to come in from the hall and talk to her. He closed his cell phone and put it in his trouser pocket.

Tasha knew Hal was her father’s private doctor. She wondered what her dad had in store for her.

She could see he’d been tanning again. His skin was too dark for the lifestyle he lived. George was a tall, handsome man in his early sixties with a full head of hair dyed chestnut-brown.

He had the hardened green eyes and the polished smile of a politician. He was known for being cruel in political races. Unfortunately, that was how she saw him, too.

“We’ve been told you’re healthy, but I don’t trust that doctor. I’d rather have Hal come check you out.”

Tasha leaned forward in her bed. “Dad, that’s ridiculous and you know it.”

He took a no-nonsense stance. “Now listen here. He’s going to fly up from Cedars Sinai in L.A., and is leaving now. This is not the time to argue.”

“As an adult I have the right to refuse his services. I’m in the best shape of my life. It was hot and I got dehydrated. End of story.” Tasha was doing her best not to scream.

“You were heavy for so many years,” her mother murmured. “I worry if that has any implications on your health now.”

“Unbelievable!” Tasha had to fight not to feel that old inferiority complex she’d wrestled with all her life. This was C.J.’s fault. Why had he phoned her parents? Very few people had their private number. He must have called Tim’s parents to get it.

Tim. If he were here, he would never have let this happen.

Tasha could feel her stomach tightening. The pain of his death was as real now as it had been at his funeral. Why did people say that time heals all wounds? Time hadn’t touched hers.

“Tasha, are you listening?” her father demanded.

Of course she was listening. All she did was listen to them belittle her. Life was better when she avoided them. If she’d had her way, they wouldn’t have found out what had happened until she’d gone back to her condo.

Unfortunately, she was stuck here in a hospital gown, at their mercy, while she tried to calm them down. “Mom and Dad, I’ve been given a clean bill of health. When this IV bag is empty, I’m leaving.”

“I’ve heard you have a reputation for being a bulldog in court, never giving an inch. But I can’t believe you’re being this way with your own parents,” her father said in his smooth, icy voice. “We’re trying to help you.”

“Help? You call this help? Coming in here and—”

C.J. knocked on the door, interrupting them. His blue eyes found hers as he walked into the room, and he gave her his “hero” smile.

She used to label his smiles back in the good old days, but until now she’d never thought about the way they affected the opposite sex. No wonder females fell under his spell. For her it was odd to be the focus of a man’s attention these days, especially this man.

“Congressman Bennington, am I intruding?”

“No. It’s good to see you, son.”

“Nice to see you too.” C.J.’s presence calmed the room. He shook her father’s hand, then glanced at Tasha again. It confused her and caused her heart to pound. For some strange, alarming reason her body came alive around him.

His eyes strayed to her mother for a moment. “Genevieve, you look stunning as usual.”

Tasha cast a glance at her mother and started laughing inside. She was eyeing C.J. the way she did all attractive men, but he didn’t seem to notice. For once someone was looking at the ugly daughter. Hah!

“It’s wonderful to see you, C.J.” Her mother sauntered over to him and hugged him, then kissed him on both cheeks. “When Gina McGinnis called and told us our Natasha was being rushed to the hospital, we were terrified.” She took a step back and put her hands on his large biceps. “The only bright spot is that Tim’s best friend saved our daughter. You’re a hero today.”

She paused, then asked, “Are you coming to the fundraiser ball tonight? I know the McGinnises are praying you’ll attend. They reserved a seat for you and a guest months ago, when the invitations went out.”

Tasha could see that her mom and Tim’s were as gaga over C.J. as the rest of the female population. How pathetic!

“Mom, I’m sure C.J. would rather do anything than go to a ball. I know for a fact he hates them.”

C.J.’s chest rumbled with laughter. “How do you know I hate them?” He looked at her curiously. “I don’t mind them if I have a beautiful date.”

He stepped away from her mom and moved closer to Tasha’s bed. “Since Richard’s out of town, I’m guessing he’s not taking you.”

“No,” Tasha squeaked. His close proximity and her exhaustion from the race seemed to be making her mind go fuzzy. All she wanted to do was go home and sleep.

C.J. looked at her parents. “How about I escort Natasha to the ball tonight? I’m a trained EMT. If I see any distress signs, I’ll make certain she’s taken straight home.” His mouth curved in a smile, but his eyes were tense, questioning.

“I’m not sure if she’s up for it tonight,” George stated as he walked around C.J. to come closer. “I won’t feel comfortable until my doctor comes and does a full evaluation of my little girl.”

Tasha stared at him as he were a stranger. Since when had he ever called her his little girl? Big, large, fat girl. Those were the words that came to mind. Little girl? Never. What had gotten into him?

In a contrary state of mind, she said, “Fine, C.J. I’ll go with you, but not as a date. We’ll go as friends, in memory of Tim. I’ll be by your place at seven. Oh—” she frowned “—do you still live at the same address?”

He nodded, but he didn’t look happy. When she glanced at her parents, she could see their dismay, as well.

How am I going to survive the night?

NATASHA PULLED UP to C.J.’s apartment building with trepidation. The clock in her car read six-fifty. Why had she gotten herself into this predicament?

She put her head on the steering wheel and tried belly breathing, as she’d learned to do in yoga. “You can do this, Tasha.” She opened the door of the car and attempted to climb out.

Someone had told her it would be hard to move after the race, but this was ridiculous. Her beloved Lexus, a cherry-red convertible sports car, was built for speed, not ease and comfort.

Tasha glanced up to where C.J.’s window overlooked the street. “Please don’t let him be watching.”

Relief flooded her system when she discovered the room appeared dark, and the blinds were drawn. The last thing she wanted was C.J. witnessing her struggle. She had to lift each leg out of the car and push herself to a standing position while she leaned on the door. Why hadn’t she thought of hiring a limo?

While she waited for her legs to stop shaking, her long, sleeveless dress danced in the breeze. One thing she’d done right was get herself a personal shopper.

Daphne, her paralegal, had offered to do the job. Before she’d become Tasha’s go-to lady, she’d been a beauty consultant for Neiman Marcus. It was how she’d paid her way through school.

Tasha remembered being curious about why a girl who worked at Neiman Marcus would want to work at a pro bono law firm. On paper it didn’t make sense, because Tasha simply couldn’t pay her what the big firms offered.

That was until she met her. From the moment Daphne walked in, with her short, blond, pixie hairdo, they’d clicked. She and Daphne both had the same dream. They wanted to help immigrants get fair legal treatment.

Daphne had definitely gone out of her way to find the right outfit for tonight’s big event—a silky, melon-colored Armani gown. The filmy material flowed around Tasha’s feet, clad in dainty ballet flats. After the marathon, heels were out of the question.

When she’d first put the dress on, she couldn’t believe how well it fit. The scooped neckline gave her curves she hadn’t known she possessed, and showed off her newly toned arms. The ruched waistline made her torso look tiny. She’d never dreamed she could wear something like this before. But then, she’d never before been so slim.

After she’d arrived home from the hospital, she’d taken a nap. Then, as prearranged, a friend of Daphne’s had brought a full team to help Tasha get ready for the night.

She would have to remember to give Daphne a bonus for this. The condo had quickly become a salon. The team did everything from nails, hair and makeup to getting her dress put on correctly.

It was amazing what money could buy. No wonder her mother looked flawless every time she went out. Tasha just couldn’t imagine wasting that much time and money on herself every day when she barely had time to sleep.

The balmy air caressed her shoulders, weaving a magical spell around her. She hoped the unseasonably warm night would bring a large crowd to the fundraiser.

Before the marathon, Tasha had assumed she would suffer post-race exhaustion. Never would she have anticipated dehydration and fainting.

Thoughts of C.J. in the ambulance and at the hospital suddenly came to mind. She felt a little shiver and hobbled toward his apartment complex. By the time she arrived in the entryway, there were butterflies in her stomach.

Her anxiety level skyrocketed as she dialed the number on the speaker system. When there was no answer, Tasha tried again, with no response. “Typical!”

She was angry at herself for letting C.J. put her in this position. But before she jumped to conclusions, she pulled her cell from her clutch to see if there was a message.

Maybe he’d been called in to work. He was a fireman, after all. Being a captain now meant more responsibility. She checked her phone. Seven o’clock. No messages. “You’re a fool, Tasha!”

That was when she heard a loud noise outside. She looked around and saw C.J. climbing out of the restored black Mustang, his prized possession. He and Tim had called it the chick magnet. She had some lovely metaphors of her own for his car, but kept them to herself.

As C.J. approached, he looked like a movie star. He was dressed in a tux, and his jet-black hair had been washed and combed back, accentuating his blue eyes.

He closed in faster than she’d anticipated. She felt like a trapped animal in the glass entryway. C.J.’s tall muscular fireman’s build and his perfect features—aquiline nose, high cheekbones and full mouth—were a lethal combination.

It shocked her that she’d spent two years around him and had never noticed him like this before. What was going on? Maybe she should have stayed at the hospital as her dad had wanted.

That was when it hit her that Tim had blinded her to other men. Seeing C.J. like this reminded her of a quote she’d always loved and never fully understood until now: “One kiss breaches the distance between friendship and love.” She wondered if that was what would happen with them.