“Writing speeding tickets and answering lost pet calls got tedious after a few years.” Ozzy shoved his hands in his pockets.
“Ozzy.” It was the way she said it, part disbelief, part daring that had him admitting what he’d only recently been able to see for himself.
“I guess I wanted to be in a position to help, rather than dealing with the aftermath.” It sounded sappy when he said it. “Firefighters and deputies, we see people on their difficult days. If I can make that day easier for them to deal with, then that’s what I want to do.”
She touched his arm. “I think that’s very noble of you.”
Noble. Ozzy’s lips twitched. Not a word he’d ever associated with himself before.
“The opportunity to switch over presented itself. There were new openings at the station house and we had more than enough deputies. Too many, actually. Matt and Fletcher belong there.”
“From what I could see, you do, too.”
“The job works well for them and I didn’t want to get in the way of that. Besides—” now he finally grinned “—being a firefighter means every day is a different adventure. We never know what’s going to come across as a call.”
“Butterfly Harbor isn’t a hub of criminal activity, then? Good to know.”
“Let’s say being a sheriff’s deputy got a bit predictable, routine, that sort of thing.”
“You like playing the hero?”
The words caught him off guard. “No.” Was that what she really thought? That he was in this for some kind of hero worship thing? “That’s not what it’s about.”
“Bad joke,” she apologized. “Of course it isn’t. It’s about doing the right thing at the right time. Sometimes the thing others aren’t capable of doing.”
The tension knotting in his stomach eased. Maybe she did understand, after all.
“I’m sorry if I offended you. But in my defense, firefighters are pretty darn heroic. It’s not everyone who runs into the flames. And I’d be lying if I didn’t say the idea of you doing something like that scares me a little. Forgive me?”
“That depends.” He narrowed his eyes. “Will you have dinner with me?” The request caught him off guard. But it had felt so natural, so...right. Not clumsy at all, if he did say so himself. “If you want to, I mean. Friends have dinner together, right?” Ah, there he went again.
“Let’s say we do lunch first and go from there.” She inclined her chin toward the diner across the street. “Like you said, the kidlet is hungry.”
* * *
ACCOMPLISHING TASKS KICKED her appetite into overdrive, and as she was almost done with her to-do list for the day, she was beginning to feel like she could plow through the diner’s entire menu.
Jo shouldn’t have been surprised that when they reached the Butterfly Diner Ozzy pulled the door open for her. She’d caught his uncertainty back at the sheriff’s station when she’d reached for the door first. As if he hadn’t considered a woman could open the door for herself. It had amused her to set him off-kilter.
He’d readjusted now, seemed to have found his footing, even if he had literally tripped a bit getting to the diner door first.
When she stepped inside, however, all other thoughts were obliterated by the instant feeling of...well, of home.
“Did I just walk through a time portal?” Save for the surprising color combination of black, orange and white—an ode, she instantly realized, to the town’s monarch namesake—the eatery definitely had that old-fashioned diner feel. Add in the distinct, excellent, growling-stomach-inducing aroma of grilling burgers, cooked onions and the promise of caloric enhancement, and she could understand why the diner was considered a town hub.
“Hey, Ozzy. Wherever you can grab a seat, go for it.” The tall, curvy brunette with plates balanced with practiced ease on her arms swept past them with a quick smile.
“We’re getting to go, actually.” Ozzy motioned toward a pair of empty orange upholstered stools at the counter. “Let’s sit so you can peruse the menu.”
At the far end of the counter a taller, thinner young woman flitted between customers, topping off coffee cups and clearing plates. Her straight black hair was tied back in a high ponytail and displayed a neon blue streak through its length. A hint of tattoos peeked out from the short sleeves of her black T-shirt carrying the diner’s logo on the front. She glanced their way, her gaze landing first on Ozzy with an unsurprising smile, then flicked curiously to Jo. “You ordering to go, Oz?”
“Thanks, Twyla. We are.” Ozzy remained on his feet rather than sitting and handed Jo a menu. “Twyla, this is Jo Bertoletti. She’s the new supervisor—”
“For the construction project.” Twyla let out an all-too-identifiable sigh of relief. “Okay. That explains it. Coffee?” Twyla held up the coffeepot.
“No, thanks.” Jo was never going to get used to having to kick caffeine. “It’s nice to meet you, Twyla.”
“You, too.” Twyla eyed Ozzy in a way that should have amused Jo. Ah, to be twentysomething again with a massive crush on the hot single firefighter. Twyla may as well have it tattooed on her forehead. How many times had Jo herself issued that same lash-fluttering, cartoon heart–hammering expression over the years? Except... Jo frowned. She really should have found Twyla’s attention more amusing than she did.
Ridiculous. Jo tried to focus on her menu. She had no cause or right to be jealous of anyone. Though Ozzy would tick most, if not all, the boxes for perfect boyfriend material anywhere. He was a good-looking, fit, sweet-natured firefighter. Heck, they’d probably broken the mold with him, and if what she suspected was true and he was sporting a new version of himself, Twyla’s rapt attention made even more sense. That gnawing in Jo’s insides was just hunger. Yep. That’s all it was. Anything else was simply unacceptable.
“You sure I can’t tempt you with a mocha shake, Oz?” Twyla kicked out a hip and tapped her fingers against her very flat apron-topped stomach. “It’s been a while since you’ve had one.”
“No, thanks, Twyla.” Ozzy just gave her one of those smiles Jo had come to expect. “How about it, Jo? You going with that patty melt, or do you see something else you want?”
“Huh?” Jo blinked, her confusion lasting for a moment before she cleared her throat and focused. “Oh, yeah.” Wow. Now who sounded like a teenager with a crush? “I’ll take the patty melt. Can I get that with hot sauce on the side?”
“Sure.” Twyla scribbled on her pad. “I can have Ursula add some jalapeños to the onions if you want to give it more of a kick.”
“That sounds great, thanks.” Okay, now her stomach was rumbling with anticipation.
“Should be about ten minutes,” Twyla said. “You want anything to drink?”
“Just water for me,” Ozzy said.
“Same,” Jo agreed, then leaned her chin on her hand as Twyla darted off to deliver their orders. She caught Ozzy scanning the filled booths behind them. He gave a few waves, then his eyes sharpened. “What?”
“Kyle said you wanted to reach out to Jed Bishop.” He inclined his head. “That’s him there. Unless you wanted to do what you need to over the phone?”
Jo shifted so she could see the man. The middle-aged guy with distinguished gray at his temples was eating his lunch and reading on his phone. “I’m all about the personal touch.” Hesitating, she wondered if it was best to approach him in the middle of what she assumed was gossip central for the town. But why waste time and a special trip to track the foreman down? Opportunity, she reminded herself. “Thanks, Oz. I’ll be back in a few.”
She slid off the stool and approached Jed. “Mr. Bishop? Sorry to bother you. I’m Jo Bertoletti.”
Jed’s bright blue eyes sparked with recognition as he wiped his mouth then held out his hand. “Good to put a face to the name.” That glint of humor in his eyes eased some of the nerves knotting in her stomach.
Every project had a guardian at the gate. Whether Jed had committed to coming back or not, he was still the main person she needed on her side if they were going to bring this project to completion. “I heard you hit town ahead of schedule.”
“Do you mind if I sit for a minute?”
“Not at all.” He gestured to the bench across from him, then let out a chuckle when she had to sort of back in and turn before facing him. “Kind of like operating a forklift, huh? My wife’s joke,” he added at Jo’s arched brow. “We have three kids. Mostly grown now, but I do remember those days. And so does she, believe me.”
Jo wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to that comment. “Mr. Bishop—”
“Jed.”
“Great. Jed. I’ve spoken with each of your crew members and they’ll be back on the job Wednesday morning.”
“Yep.” Jed took a drink of his coffee. “Word got around.”
“Right.” Jo pressed her lips into a thin line.
With Jed Bishop there was a physicality about him, beneath the polite tenor and neat appearance. Sturdy, she thought. And, judging by his record, dependable. “The word I hear is that you aren’t sure you want to come back.”
He toasted her with his mug. “Word is rarely wrong.”
“I’ve spent my entire life in construction,” Jo said to break the ice. “And I wouldn’t be lying if I said I understood your reluctance. I’ve been witness to a number of accidents, but I’ve never been involved in something as devastating as I’m sure this was.”
“Watching your crew get trapped beneath steel and concrete isn’t something I’d recommend.” Even now she could see the ghosts hovering around him. “For the record, the supplier we used was not my first choice. But then my recommendation—”
“Was twenty percent above what most other bids came in on and money was the deciding factor.” Now this was something Jo understood. “You and I both know that money, at least in this situation, can buy a certain level of security and confidence. I read the original bids and your recommendation. I would have agreed with you.” Something she’d conveyed to the mayor during their conversation this morning. “That’s something I’ve already rectified. The new supplies will be arriving late next week. I’d very much like you to be there to accept them.”
Jed tilted his head. “I’m used to being the boss. I’m not used to working with a supervisor looking over my shoulder, and to be honest, the one time I did, disaster struck.”
Jo waved off his concern. “I’m a damage control specialist and supervisor who only wants to get this project back on track. To do that I need the best people for the job. That’s you. And to be honest, you’re the only person on my list.”
“Chuck Elington’s a good man. If I were recommending someone—”
“Chuck isn’t you.” She feigned struggling for words. “Okay, I’m just going to be honest. I spoke with Kyle Knight a while ago.”
“How’s he doing?” Guilt was a difficult emotion to hide, especially for someone who clearly cared about his crew the way she suspected Jed did. “I saw him in the hospital, but not since he got out.”
Guilt and avoidance, Jo knew, often went hand in hand.
“He’s doing okay, actually. I made him an offer to come back, but like you, he’s hesitant.” A white lie here or there wasn’t going to hurt. Especially since she wouldn’t be here long enough for it to matter after a few months. “I offered him an office job, being an administrative assistant, but also thought, considering his plans for the future, he could work closely with you.”
“With me?”
“He needs guidance. He wants to learn. And he needs to feel safe while he’s doing it. He feels safe with you, Jed. He trusts you. That tells me a lot about both of you. If it would help him get back on his feet—”
“So to speak?” Jed asked.
“Yeah.” Relief washed through her. She liked Jed. He got it. And, if she wasn’t mistaken, he was leaning in her favor. “If coming back will help him get over the rough patches, maybe it’s something you can think about?”
He pushed his plate away, sat back and folded his arms over his chest. “How much oversight is there going to be? I understand the need for caution and I even understand the need for a special supervisor. But I need to know I have the final say with my crew.”
It was a logical concern. She’d have been surprised if he hadn’t brought it up. “I can promise you this. If I don’t agree with something, I’ll address it with you in private. We will work together on a plan of action, and unless I get the feeling you’re going completely off the rails, you’ll have free rein. I’ll be signing off on the paperwork and orders until completion, which means most of that just got lifted off your shoulders. That also means if you want back on the crew yourself, I’ve got no problem with that. But we’d be a partnership, Jed. And you’d have to be okay with that from the jump.”
He considered her for a good long moment, offered the brunette server a quick smile when she set his bill on the edge of the table. “I need to talk it over with my wife. She hasn’t been entirely unhappy that I’ve been home more. That’s what she says, anyway.”
“While work will officially begin on Wednesday, I’ve called for a crew meeting Monday morning. Six a.m.,” she told him. “I’ll expect to see you at the same time.”
Jed frowned, the creases in his slightly tanned forehead showing a bit of his age. “I haven’t said yes yet.”
“No, you haven’t.” She scooted to the edge of the booth. “But you will. I’m a good judge of people, Jed. The second I said Kyle needed your help you were in.” Once she managed to get to her feet, she smiled at his befuddled expression. “I look forward to working with you.”
Before he could respond, she returned to the counter where Ozzy was skimming through his phone. She peeked over his shoulder, saw the collection of feminine faces smiling up from his screen and recognized the layout of a popular dating app. She grimaced, thinking about her own disastrous experience with online dating. She wouldn’t wish that on anyone, let alone a sweetheart of a guy like Ozzy. Swallowing that uncomfortable and unwanted lump in her throat, she gave a discreet cough before sliding back onto the stool.
Ozzy clicked his phone off so fast she might have imagined it was there in the first place.
“How’d it go?” he asked.
“About as I expected.” She sipped her water and watched Twyla bop back and forth behind the counter. “I’ll know for sure in a few minutes. So—” she chewed an ice cube “—you two ever gone out?”
“Me and Jed?”
“No.” Jo gestured toward Twyla.
Ozzy scoffed. “Me and Twyla? No.” His tone would not, Jo thought, have gone over well with their server. “No, I’ve known Twyla since we were kids. She was a few years behind me in school.”
“So? She’s cute,” Jo said. “And she likes you,” she whispered conspiratorially. “You should think about doing something about it.” Why was she pushing so hard?
“Mama mama mama mama!” The shrill cry of a little one’s voice had Jo swiveling on her stool toward the back corner booth. The server who had greeted them earlier detoured and quickly bent down to scoop up a toddler scooting out from under the table. After a quick conversation with two boys—one significantly older with thick round glasses and a faded superhero T-shirt—she gestured to the stack of coloring books on the closest windowsill. The older boy grabbed one and handed a crayon to the other boy sitting beside him.
Without missing a beat, the woman pivoted and headed around the counter, the little girl with short dark pigtails sticking out of the sides of her head perched on one hip. “Sometimes no one other than Mama will do,” she said with a smile. “Enjoying your day off, Oz?”
“You know it,” Ozzy confirmed. “Holly, this is Jo—”
“Bertoletti,” Holly finished for him and offered Jo a quick w
elcoming nod. “Luke called and said you were heading over. That’s so great of you to offer Kyle a job. How are you finding things, Jo?”
“Interesting.” Jo couldn’t bring herself to stop looking at the little girl in Holly’s arms. In just a few months this would be her, juggling her job and a little demanding life that clung to her. The reality of it hit her like a sledgehammer. “Hello there, little one.”
“Hi!” The girl’s round face lit up and she grinned before turning her face into her mother’s shoulder.
“This is Zoe.” Holly rubbed Zoe’s back. “She and her brother Jake over there take turns being the loud ones.”
“Their brother Simon’s a good distraction,” Ozzy added.
“That’s an apt description,” Holly laughed. “Most of the time he loves being a big brother. Other times?”
“Other times he’s trying to take over the world,” Ozzy muttered and earned appreciative nods of agreement from other diners who overheard. “Remind me to tell you about the time Simon hacked into his neighbor’s Wi-Fi—”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Oz,” Holly snapped good-naturedly. “That was a bazillion years ago. He doesn’t do that anymore.”
“He was an eight-year-old bored computer genius,” Ozzy clarified for Jo. “But his actions are also partially responsible for Holly marrying Luke. She had to marry the town sheriff to keep her son out of trouble.”
“He’s oversimplifying things,” Holly argued as Jo found herself enjoying the playful banter and retrospective town gossip. “Mostly. Oh, coming, Penny!” Holly gestured over Jo’s head at one of her customers. “Here, sweetheart. Go with your uncle Ozzy for a few minutes, okay?”
“Zee!” Zoe let out a squeal of delight and practically dived out of her mother’s arms.
Ozzy stood up and reached out as Holly handed Zoe over the counter. “There’s my girl. Hey, there, Zoe. How ya doing?” He settled back down with Zoe in his lap. Jo watched, amazed, as the toddler settled against him and let out what was a definitive sigh of contentment. “You using that playground we built for you yet?”
Building a Surprise Family Page 8