Читать книгу Tall, Strong & Cool Under Fire - Marie Ferrarella, Marie Ferrarella - Страница 8

There’d only been just enough time for him to grab the broom before Bryce had found himself being pulled into the house by the diminutive woman who had clamped her hands around his wrist. She was surprisingly strong, given her size.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said obediently, trying not to laugh. Obviously her mother and her daughter were a lot freer spirits than Lisa Billings was.

Out of the corner of his eye, Bryce saw CeCe come running into the room. The moment she saw him, she clapped her hands together in pure delight. Her grin was wide and welcoming.

Unlike, he noted, her mother’s expression. Nobody had to tell him that Lisa wasn’t happy about this turn of events, or the lack of immediate support she had.

CeCe fairly bounced in front of him, her eyes shining. “Hi, Bryce.”

Lisa didn’t want CeCe getting too friendly with the intrusive firefighter, even if this was just a onetime visit.

“Mr. Walker,” she corrected.

A little of the sunlight in CeCe’s eyes abated. Bryce was quick to wave Lisa’s admonishment aside. Too many children called him by his first name for CeCe to be singled out this way.

“That’s too much of a mouthful for someone her size, Lisa. Bryce is fine.”

Lisa didn’t like him calling her by her first name. It made this conversation entirely too personal. Besides, she had the feeling that he was conveying more to her than just a name preference when he said that Bryce was fine, but there was no way she was about to allow herself to be drawn into any sort of wordplay over that.

In the larger scheme of things, it was all a moot point. It wasn’t as if the man was going to be someone they interacted with on a regular basis. As soon as she managed to usher him on his way, she didn’t expect to ever see Bryce Walker again, barring a fire somewhere in the immediate area.

But before she could say anything, her mother was taking charge of the situation.

“Well, then, Bryce,” Cecilia said, smiling at him, “we were just about to sit down to dinner. Perhaps you will join us?”

For a second, the air left her lungs. Lisa felt completely outflanked. She knew from experience that sending her mother a glaring look would be utterly wasted on the woman, so she didn’t even bother—as much as she wanted to.

Instead she drew herself up and sent the withering look in Bryce’s direction. The last thing she needed at the tail end of a trying day was an invasion by an unwanted guest, no matter how handsome he was.

“I’m sure Mr. Walker has to be somewhere else, Mother.”

He returned the withering look with a long, slow appraisal that started at the top of her head and wound its way down to her bare toes. Lisa felt as if she suddenly had nothing on and felt all the hotter for it.

“No,” he assured her quietly, “as a matter of fact, I don’t.”

Triumphant, Cecilia hooked her arm through Bryce’s. She looked back at her daughter. “See?”

A thread of satisfaction wound through her words that she didn’t bother to hide. As far as Cecilia was concerned, Lisa had been hiding behind her work and her family in an effort to barricade herself away from the rest of the world and deny the fact that she had a heart that could still be hurt. If nothing was risked, nothing was gained.

Cecilia glanced at the broom Bryce was still holding. “By the way, what is all this you bring with you?”

“Yes,” Lisa seconded the question, her eyes sweeping over the bag he held in his other hand. “Just why are you dragging a broom around? Are you moonlighting as a broom salesman?” Maybe if she insulted him, he’d go away.

But instead of being insulted, he flashed a grin at her. “You and your mother think alike.”

Not hardly, Lisa thought, swallowing a groan. To her surprise, he presented the broom to her.

“It’s for you. A housewarming gift,” he explained when she only stared at it.

She raised her eyes to his face, wondering what he was up to. “I already have a broom. And a vacuum cleaner,” she added, in case he had one waiting in his car.

“Lisa, if the man wants to give you a broom, you must be polite and take it,” Cecilia told her kindly, taking the broom from Bryce as if he had just presented her with the crown jewels of England.

Bryce couldn’t read Lisa’s expression, but he figured he could take a calculated guess what was going on in her mind. Being a firefighter made him sensitive to highly volatile situations.

Time to defuse the moment, he thought. “Actually it’s an old tradition.” Lisa looked at him blankly. “The broom’s symbolic,” he told her. “You give someone moving into a new home a broom to sweep away any evil spirits that might still be lurking around, left over from the old tenants. And the loaf of bread—” he handed the bag he’d brought to Lisa “—is so that you never go hungry.”

She vaguely remembered hearing or reading about the tradition. But Bryce didn’t strike her as the kind of person who went in for old-fashioned customs. Looking at him uncertainly, she glanced inside the bag. It was a loaf of bread all right. Closing it, she looked at the bouquet he was still holding.

“And the flowers? What are they for?”

This part was a last-minute inspiration. As her mother watched approvingly, he offered the flowers to Lisa with a flourish. “To make you smile.”

“Oh.” It was a simple bouquet of daisies, but it left her flustered and at a loss for words. Her mouth curved slightly without her even realizing it as she accepted the bouquet and looked down at the clustered, bouncy petals. Daisies, to pick apart one by one, murmuring “he loves me, he loves me not.” “I see.”

“It works!” CeCe announced with enthusiasm, grinning broadly. Then the grin began to fade away as she looked skeptically at the broom her grandmother was holding. She lowered her voice in a hushed whisper, inclining her head toward Bryce. “Does that mean we have evil spirits to sweep away?”

He saw the beginning of fear in her eyes. He’d meant to charm the mother, not frighten the daughter.

“They’re all gone already,” he told her solemnly. “It’s the fire department’s job to send any evil spirits packing a whole month before anyone new moves in. This—” he tapped the handle with his finger “—is just to remind them to stay away. Forever.”

“Oh.” Relieved, CeCe released a sigh that seemed twice as large as she was.

“Hey, I almost forgot. This is for you.” With a gesture every bit as grand as the flourish he’d used to present the flowers to Lisa, he awarded the coloring book he had tucked under his arm to CeCe. “It’s all about different fire trucks.” He winked at her. “Something the department keeps around for Bedford’s future taxpayers.”

She hugged the thin booklet to her, pleased to be remembered. “Mommy, where are my crayons?”

“We’ll find them after dinner.” Otherwise, Lisa knew that there would be no prying CeCe away from the coloring book until she was finished.

It suddenly occurred to Bryce that he hadn’t brought anything to give Lisa’s mother. Admittedly, the woman had not been on his mind when he was planning his strategy. He turned to her now a tad sheepishly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t bring anything for you.”

“Oh, but you did, Bryce,” Cecilia replied with a soft smile he could only wish would grace her daughter’s lips. The smile filtered into her eyes, putting him completely at ease. “You brought me your company. Now, how do you feel about pierogi?”

Unfamiliar with the word, he could only shake his head. “I’m afraid I don’t have any feelings about it one way or another.”

“You will,” Cecilia promised, patting his arm. “In time.” She gestured toward what looked to be the dining area. “Now, you and Lisa go sit and wait. CeCe and I will bring the food. You are in for a treat.” Cecilia winked, then taking the bag with the loaf of bread from her daughter, she commandeered her granddaughter’s attention. With a nod of her head, she led the way into the kitchen. Leaving Bryce and Lisa alone.

Awkwardness descended immediately, draping itself heavily on her shoulders. Lisa wished her mother had let her be the one to bring in the meal, but she knew better. This whole scene couldn’t have been playing itself out any better than if her mother had written it all out with specific stage directions.

Taking a deep breath, Lisa told herself she’d get through this. Abruptly she turned toward Bryce. “My mother worked at an embassy overseas when she was younger, she never completely got over ordering people around.”

“I think she’s great,” Bryce said. Cecilia reminded him a little of Riley’s mother, a woman who had been closer to him in his adolescent years than his own mother had been.

Lisa nodded, acknowledging the compliment. “Most people do,” she remarked. “You really don’t have to stay, you know.”

He studied her face, trying to sort out her signals and his own wishful thinking. “Is that your polite way of saying get lost?”

She caught her tongue between her teeth, fighting the urge to tell him just that. She didn’t need a bone-meltingly good-looking man putting ideas into her mother’s head just by his very presence. Her mother was incorrigible enough as it was, ceaselessly promoting the idea that she should get back out there amid the sharks and swim until she found someone special to swim through life with.

As if that was ever going to happen.

To find someone she had to be looking. And she wasn’t. Having her heart kicked in once was more than enough to teach her the pitfalls of wearing her heart on her sleeve. Of loving one man to distraction and placing all her faith, all her hopes and dreams into his careless hands.

She had loved Kyle, but he had loved his freedom even more. Watching him walk away, walk away from her and the promise of the family that was to be, was something she knew would remain with her for the rest of her life. She wasn’t about to put herself into the position of experiencing that again even in the remotest sense.

Still, since Bryce had been exceptionally kind to her daughter and mother, it wouldn’t kill her to be nice, she reasoned. Besides, if she sent him away now, before dinner, she knew her mother would never let her hear the end of it.

So Lisa resigned herself to suffering through the next hour or so. “If I wanted you to get lost,” she informed him tersely, “I would say so.”

“Glad to hear it.” He waited until she walked into the dining room, then followed behind her. “So, what’s this pier—pier—” Fumbling for the word he hadn’t quite grasped, he looked at her for help. Amusement curved her mouth. He had a feeling she liked him at a disadvantage. “Help me out, here.”

“Pierogi. It’s the Polish answer to ravioli,” she elaborated.

He pulled out a chair for her. “You’re Polish?”

“Yes, anything wrong with that?” She sat down and allowed him to push the chair in for her. The next moment, she felt her pulse scrambling as he lowered his face next to hers. She could have sworn she felt his breath along her cheek.

“Not a thing.” He saw the pulse in her throat jump as her jaw tightened. Bryce smiled to himself as he straightened again. Nice to know a graceful body like hers wasn’t entirely sculpted out of ice. “It’s just that Billings doesn’t sound very Polish.”

Her eyes were cold as he rounded the table to sit down.

“Billings was my married name.” She’d toyed with changing it back to her maiden name, but there was CeCe to think of. The little girl was incredibly bright, but she was still a four-year-old with a four-year-old’s emotions. Having a different name than her mother might be too confusing for her at this point.

“Was,” he echoed. So his guess had been right. But he pushed the envelope a tiny bit further. “As in—I’m not stepping on anyone’s toes by being here?”

His eyes were just a little too green, a little too warm for her. “Would you care?” Lisa asked.

He had his principles and that included never cutting in on another man’s territory once it was staked out. “Very much so.”

Honor was not the first word she thought of when Lisa thought of men in general. She’d learned the hard way that men like her father didn’t exist anymore. They were far too practical. “Why? Because it would get you into a confrontational situation?”

She was the one who was looking for a confrontational situation, he thought. “Because I socialize with married women in a different way than I socialize with unmarried women,” he told her amiably. And then he leaned forward and asked, “Do you find it gives you a backache?”

Her brows narrowed. She had no idea what he was talking about. “What does?”

Bryce nodded toward her shoulders. “That huge chip you’re carrying around on your shoulder. I’d imagine it might make you stoop a lot less if you weren’t lugging it around into every conversation.”

He’d never seen blue lightning flash before. He did now, in her eyes as she drew herself up, a pugnacious tilt to her head. “I don’t have a chip on my shoulder. I’m just careful. And suspicious.”

Something stirred within him and Bryce knew that Riley had been right. He did love a challenge. Any challenge, but particularly one that came dressed in white cuffed shorts and a tank top made for stirring up erotic fantasies in his mind. He leaned in closer to her. “Of people in general, men specifically, or just me?”

Her gaze never wavered as she met his head-on. Only her stomach did a minor flip-flop, but that was for her to know and him not to find out, she thought. “No, maybe and yes.”

He was game. “Why me?”

She would have thought that easy enough to see. “Why are you here?”

He repeated the offer he’d made earlier, in the fire station. “I thought that since you were new in the neighborhood, I’d offer my services.”

Lisa had to concentrate to keep her skin from feeling as if it were tingling, responding to the way his eyes seemed to caress her—while an all-too-knowing smile graced his lips. “What kind of services?”

“Any kind you’d like.” Sitting here in her dining room, it occurred to Bryce that he would very much like to discover what kissing her would be like. He had more than a hunch that the lady wasn’t nearly as cool as she was trying to pretend. “I’m handy with my hands.”

She tossed her head, needing to do something to keep from sinking, knee deep, into the look in his eyes. “I just bet you are.”

“Bet he is what?”

Lisa’s head snapped up, whirling in the direction her mother’s voice was coming from. She hadn’t even heard either her mother or her daughter enter the room. CeCe was right behind Cecilia carrying another place setting for the table. Her mother had her hands full, bringing in a huge platter of pierogi. It was still steaming, with whiffs of heat rising up from the melting pats of butter.

It occurred to Bryce that both mother and grandmother were placing a great deal of faith in the child’s equilibrium. Rising, he quickly crossed to the little girl, reaching for the place setting. “Thanks, CeCe. I’ll take it from here.”

CeCe surrendered the plate and silverware without a word. But the look in her eyes said it all. It was obvious to Lisa that her daughter was completely smitten with Bryce.

Lisa didn’t like what she was seeing here. Her mother was taking all this in and, from the look in her eyes, giving Bryce points. And it was clear that CeCe was already crazy about him. That made it two against one if he decided to make another appearance on her doorstep anytime soon.

Blowing out a long breath, all Lisa could do was hope that she could put him off from trying.

“Bet he is what?” CeCe repeated, looking from her mother to Bryce.

The kid was a sponge, Bryce thought. And probably part bull terrier. He’d be willing to bet that once she latched on to something, she didn’t give up until she got what she was after.

“Handy with my hands,” he told her.

“Like how?” CeCe asked eagerly. She was quick to take the place right beside him at the table. “Can you do tricks?”

“I don’t know about tricks,” he confided even as he produced a coin from behind her ear and then presented it to her. “But I can pretty much repair anything that needs fixing.”

Her eyes as big as saucers, CeCe took the coin from him, staring at it as if he’d just handed her magic in a solid form.

“Wow.” Clutching the coin to her, afraid it might disappear, she looked at her mother. “Did you see that, Mommy?”

Lisa cocked her head, studying their guest. Wondering just how much more there was to Bryce Walker than met the eye. She still had no idea why he’d planted himself on her doorstep. It wasn’t as if she’d encouraged him in any way. The girl within her who had flirted and taken life at face value had long since died. Reality had done that. Reality and Kyle.