The Firefighter's Cinderella (Fire and Sparks)

by Sonya Weiss

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Find your Bliss with these great releases… A Family by Christmas

  In the Dog House

  The Boyfriend Contract

  Story of Us

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2019 by Sonya Weiss. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

  Entangled Publishing, LLC

  2614 South Timberline Road

  Suite 105, PMB 159

  Fort Collins, CO 80525

  rights@entangledpublishing.com

  Bliss is an imprint of Entangled Publishing, LLC.

  Edited by Stacy Abrams

  Cover design by Elizabeth Turner Stokes

  Cover photography from Shutterstock

  ISBN 978-1-64063-851-8

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  First Edition November 2019

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for supporting a small publisher! Entangled prides itself on bringing you the highest quality romance you’ve come to expect, and we couldn’t do it without your continued support. We love romance, and we hope this book leaves you with a smile on your face and joy in your heart.

  xoxo

  Liz Pelletier, Publisher

  For the minions.

  Chapter One

  Cinderella kicked Prince Charming in the face with her glass slipper. Arms flailing, he toppled backward off the stage.

  “Oh no!” Harper Bailey leaped from the chair and, with one hand on the silver tiara and the other holding the blue princess dress above her ankles to keep from tripping over it, ran down the steps toward him.

  Her recently hired employee and now fallen prince, Bobby Vernon, groaned. “You kicked me.”

  Harper winced at the sight of his rapidly swelling nose. “I’m so sorry. Your hand was cold. The kick was a reflex after you grabbed my leg to put the slipper on my foot.” She was so not equipped for the part of a fairy-tale princess.

  “No problem, Mom. Of course I can manage the place and take on the role of leading princess while you’re on medical leave for your anxiety,” Harper muttered, second-guessing herself for the hundredth time.

  Despite her belief in fairy tales and her dream of a happily ever after for herself, she royally sucked as Cinderella. Which was bad for the business, since creditors had already been banging down the door long before the added expense of her mother’s mental health wellness retreat. Kneeling on the cool stone of the castle’s throne room floor, she reached for Bobby.

  He shrieked like he was trying to hit a high note and batted her hand away. “Three times in one week you’ve nearly killed me. No wonder you can’t keep a prince. This is the last straw. I quit.”

  Nearly killed him? Bobby was prone to exaggeration, and Harper tried to reason with him, but he was having none of it.

  He rolled over and rose to his feet, put his hands on his hips, and voiced a laundry list of insults, questioning her intelligence and ability to run the business, before he stormed out.

  Great. The year so far was turning into a real winner. First the man she’d thought was her real Prince Charming broke up with her. Well, technically she’d broken up with him after catching him chasing Amy Bloomfield’s tonsils with his tongue. If he was going to act like one, he might as well show one was her thinking when, without saying a word, she’d cut the butt out of all his pants and had them delivered to his law office. He’d seemed to grasp that reconciliation wasn’t something she was going to entertain. Ever.

  Now the employee who was her acting Prince Charming was gone. Good riddance to both. She didn’t a need a man. She huffed out a breath and groaned. Except that she did. The show had to go on.

  Harper bit her lip as worries crowded in like eager puppies wanting attention. She’d promised her mother she’d keep Fairy Tales, the family amusement park plus wedding venue business, up and running while she was gone, and what had her only daughter done?

  She’d beaten up Prince Charming.

  In an attempt to bring in more customers, her mother had expanded the business last year, taking out risky loans that Harper had begged her not to take. She’d renovated the amusement park to include a medieval theme park complete with jousting tournaments. While it had thrilled the tourists, it hadn’t yet brought in enough in ticket sales to turn a decent profit.

  The room’s heavy wooden door, which Bobby had slammed shut behind him, swung open. Rafferty Bradford walked into the room right in the middle of her worrying.

  The mid-afternoon sunlight streaming in through a row of arched windows shone around him like a halo, making Harper want to snort with derision. She’d known him since elementary school, and they’d become the best of friends back then. But the friendship had gone horribly wrong. She’d trusted him with her heart, and he’d broken it.

  Then, as now, Rafferty was definitely not a candidate for sainthood. If there was an antidote to fairy tales, he was it.

  The sexy firefighter was the most popular bachelor in Morganville, Georgia, and though he was well liked in the community, she wasn’t a fan after what had happened between them.

  He had a devilish glint in his dark brown eyes, and his blue T-shirt stretched over abs that were “so hard…so warm,” as his latest fling had crooned loudly one table over from Harper’s at Tony’s Tavern last Friday night.

  He had the same dark-blond hair as his brothers and sister. Every summer, it lightened from the time he spent in the sun at the lake or on his frequent trips to surf at Tybee Island. She’d gone there with him and his family. In the before days. Before their friendship ended. Before she’d cried for weeks.

  He was thought-stallingly handsome, and he had that attitude. That confident male one that said, I’m sexy and you know it. His mouth tipped into a slight smile.

  Her body’s response was Well, hello! Harper hated her reaction to him. She couldn’t afford to like what she saw. Ever.

  Love and having a family, that was important to her. Forever was what she was looking for and the exact opposite of everything Rafferty wanted from life. He’d said as much when he’d dismissed their friendship like it had meant nothing to him.

  His gaze swept over her. “You look frustrated.”

  She wasn’t surprised he thought he could read her even after all their time cold-shouldering each other. Rafferty was Morganville’s expert on women. God knew he’d dated enough of them. And oh, the stories circulating on the gossip chain about his exploits… She hadn’t believed them at first, but then she’d learned the hard way that where there’s smoke, there’s fire.

  “I am frustrated,” she said, keeping her tone polite because that’s just how things were done in Morganville, Georgia. She could “bless
his heart” with the best of them. “I just lost my prince.” Oh, the irony, she thought, looking at him.

  His smile widened. “Don’t worry, Cinderella. We all know how the fairy tale ends.”

  For a second, the ghost of their past friendship hovered, but Harper didn’t let it in. No thanks. She wasn’t living with that kind of hurt again. Though his family and hers always had and still said they were “inevitable,” she could assure them they were not. Back when they were teenagers, she and Rafferty used to laugh and roll their eyes whenever their families would hint at their coupledom.

  She shot him a dark look. “Did you come in here just to torment me?”

  His smile faded. “I heard someone screaming and wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  “Oh. Thanks. It wasn’t me.” The consideration touched Harper despite her not wanting to feel anything, but she didn’t read anything personal into it. Acting heroic was part of Rafferty’s DNA. He came from a long family history of firefighters. He was six feet of hat-tipping, saying ma’am, chivalrous male.

  Every time they saw him, her friends stared, oohed, ahhed, and swore that he was a great guy, and maybe she’d once believed that, but not now. Everything had changed that last night in the before, when she’d thought, What the heck. Just kiss him and see if they were “meant to be together,” as their families kept saying.

  So she’d stood on her tiptoes, aiming her lips for his. He’d stopped her, a quizzical expression on his face, and said if she wanted to “just have fun,” then he was all for that.

  He’d asked her out on a date, and the way he’d asked, she’d known. She’d be just another number to him.

  It wasn’t like she was in love with him, and she’d said as much. Then had explained she thought she meant more to him than someone to “just have fun” with.

  He’d backed away like she was something contaminated, told her she was serious girlfriend material and that he didn’t have serious relationships. No woman would ever matter that much to him, he’d said. She shouldn’t try to make them into something more than a hookup, he’d said.

  They’d had a terrible argument, and that had been that. It wasn’t so much his words that destroyed everything, because she hadn’t had any romantic interest in him.

  No, it was the afterward, when he’d frozen her out of his life. And she’d realized Rafferty was the first guy after her father’s abandonment who she’d opened her heart to and trusted would always be there for her. And yet he’d abandoned her, too.

  Rafferty jerked his thumb toward the door. “Should have known it was Bobby screaming and not you, tough girl. Did you beat him up?”

  “Not on purpose.” She climbed the steps onto the stage and plopped down on one of the thrones. The dress billowed out on both sides, and she tucked it against her legs. “This stinks. I’ll probably have to cancel next week’s show.”

  “Why? Just find another guy to do it.”

  Harper gritted her teeth and thinned her lips for a moment. That was just like Rafferty. People were easily exchanged, easily dumped when the relationship got “too deep,” as he’d said.

  “It’s not that easy. They don’t exactly grow on trees.” Sighing at the prince-less dilemma facing her, she reached up to remove the pins holding her tiara in place, hoping it would ease her tension headache. She shook her head to fluff her hair, letting it tumble down around her shoulders.

  A reaction flared in the depths of his eyes, but Harper ignored it. The fairy tale, the happily ever after, and someone to share her life with wasn’t found at the end of that reaction. Not with a man who couldn’t even commit to a friendship.

  “Being a prince in your show…how hard can it be?” He sat on the throne beside her and leaned slightly forward, forearms on his thighs. Those hard, muscular thighs…

  Harper noticed, not because she felt any flicker of yearning but because she could see the reason why he might appeal to other women.

  “It’s a lot harder than you might think. There are fittings and rehearsals, dealing with lights and the heat when we’re in those heavy costumes.” As if to prove her point, she lifted her light-brown hair from off the back of her neck. She hated it when the days were hot like this. It made her hair as frizzy and attractive as a tumbleweed.

  It was the middle of May, and while the temperature wasn’t bad, the humidity was high. The castle had been modernized to add air conditioning, but Harper didn’t usually turn it on until June to save on the electric costs. Which she couldn’t afford to pay if she didn’t find a replacement prince for the show to go on.

  “None of that sounds difficult.”

  Only because she and the other employees worked long hours to make the show successful. The audience never knew about the problems behind the scenes. “After everything is in place, there’s the show itself,” she said.

  “I still say it sounds easy. All the actor has to do is waltz with you, slip a glass slipper on your foot, and promise you forever.”

  “I’m surprised you can say ‘promise you forever’ without breaking out in hives.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Come on, Rafferty. I know how you operate. What are you on? Woman number thirty-four?”

  “Do you think I treat women as a number? Like they don’t matter?”

  That’s exactly what you did to me. Harper gathered the folds of her dress and stood. “No. I think you treat women like they do matter, and that’s the problem.” It had been her problem, anyway. She’d believed nothing could ever break apart their friendship. “They think they’re going to be the one to bring Morganville’s most eligible bachelor to his knees. Despite the warning signs, they fall for you.”

  “The warning signs?” He rose, too, his tone baffled.

  “I need to find the slipper and get to work hiring a prince. I don’t have time for this.” Harper looked around for the shoe that had come off when she’d kicked Bobby.

  “Don’t chicken out now. You used to tell me exactly what you thought before, so speak your mind. What warning signs?”

  “Okay, you asked for it.” She blew a puff of breath to push her hair away from her face and steeled herself. How was it he couldn’t see how difficult it was for her to stand here in the ashes of their once-friendship? Had he ever once missed her the way she’d missed him?

  “Warning sign number one: your three-date rule, which plainly says you’re not the guy who sticks around. Warning sign number two: sleeping with most of the town’s population, which enhances—and no doubt wildly exaggerates—the rumors regarding your bedroom skills.”

  “There’s no exaggeration on the skills, but contrary to the gossip, I don’t sleep around,” he said softly but with enough bite to it that Harper knew she’d hit ego dead center.

  She hadn’t meant to be unkind. Every time she thought she’d dealt with the grief and pain of losing their friendship, raw emotions rose to the surface. People had told her “time heals all wounds,” to which she said “bull.” All time did was march on, carrying the hurt right along with it.

  When he raised his eyebrows, Harper said, “You’re a player, Rafferty. You always have been.”

  Throwing her hands out, she made a noise of frustration and gave up searching for the slipper.

  “Yeah? And you’ve always been scared to step outside of the safe little circle you’ve drawn around yourself.”

  She couldn’t believe he was returning to the parting shot he’d uttered during their friendship breakup. “Better safe than sorry.”

  “Which is the same thing you said to me a year ago after you heard a promotion might be opening and I wanted to move up at the station.”

  “The only reason you want that is because being the boss would make it harder for anyone to call you out on the risks you take.” She’d wanted him to be okay, to be safe.

  After being abandoned by her father—she coul
d still feel the wetness of the fall leaves under her bare feet as she watched the taillights of his car drive away—and now what she’d experienced with her ex-boyfriend, there was nothing wrong with wanting safety, with bracing herself against the wrong kind of man. Present company included. “Now if you don’t mind, I’ve got a million things to do.”

  …

  Rafferty had hoped to fix this mountain between them, but each year it grew wider and more difficult to scale. He’d wanted to find his way back to his friend, but every time they had a conversation, it only made things worse.

  He let her words about his character roll off him without taking offense. He’d earned his reputation and didn’t have a problem with it. But he didn’t play games for a good reason. Experience was a teacher who’d painfully taught him how fragile a heart could be.

  He’d dropped the ball once. Never again. He didn’t engage in romantic relationships. Emotional entanglements were dangerous, not just to the heart, but they could end someone’s life. He’d walked through that darkness and grief and come out on the other side knowing that remaining a bachelor was the best way to live.

  No one had a problem with him. Except his ex-friend, the prim, uptight Harper Bailey with the curvy body, blue eyes that didn’t used to hide her emotions from him, and just-got-out-of-bed hair.

  He walked closer, and she backed up until her legs were flush against one of the thrones. When he leaned into her, she lowered herself into the seat, her gaze firmly fixed on his lips until he smiled, and then her gaze flew to his.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded, looking at him with those big, beautiful eyes.

  “I’m helping you.” He went down to one knee and reached beneath the throne to extract the shoe she’d searched for. His gaze never leaving hers, he slid his hand beneath the mounds of dress. Her shoulders stiffened, and a small rush of air escaped her lips.

  Rafferty cupped the back of her leg, lifted it slowly, and rested her ankle on his thigh before sliding the shoe snugly onto her foot. He ran his thumb across the top of the soft skin. “There you go, Cinderella.” He moved her foot slowly across his thigh then lowered it and stood.