Fireman Dad. Betsy Amant St.
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 argument 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