My Wild Irish Dragon

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My Wild Irish Dragon Page 12

by Ashlyn Chase


  “So, you just assumed you could stick me with your African gray.”

  She was just about to turn and leave when she spotted a beautiful bird. The feathers were a soft silver color. It was larger and shaped differently than a mourning dove, and it had the sweetest face. “Hello. What’s your name?”

  “Gwendolyn,” the bird answered.

  Chloe gasped. “She speaks!”

  The guy whirled around, apparently unaware that Chloe had come in. “Yes. She’s an African gray parrot. They’re the breed with the largest vocabulary. I haven’t had time to train her to say much.”

  “In other words, Chloe, she’ll just screech and squawk most of the time,” Ryan said.

  “Oh, but she’s beautiful. I’d love to take her home, but I’m here for the next few days.”

  “That’s great,” the guy said. “I’m only going to be gone for a belated holiday weekend. My family gets together between Thanksgiving and Christmas and celebrates everything at once. You can understand why I have to go. She doesn’t need a lot of care. She stays in her cage…”

  “And poops in it,” Ryan added, “which you’ll need to clean up, plus the birdseed that lands everywhere.”

  “There’s a newspaper on the bottom that you can pull out and change here.” The guy tapped what looked like a thin drawer that ran the width of the cage.

  Chloe took another look at the bird’s hopeful face. “Does she bite?”

  “Not unless you poke or startle her.” The guy stuck out his hand. “I’m Private McCall, by the way.”

  “Oh! You’re a firefighter?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I work with Scrooge’s brother, Gabe.” He pointed over his shoulder with his thumb, indicating Ryan.

  She smiled. “Scrooge?” That wasn’t a name she’d want Ryan to get stuck with. He’d been generous with his time and help. He just didn’t want to take care of this bird, for some unknown reason. “I’ll do it,” she said.

  Ryan groaned.

  “That’s great! If she bothers you, just cover her cage with this.” McCall handed her a black fabric cover with gray stripes on it. “She’ll quiet right down. You won’t even know she’s there.”

  Ryan shook his head and stalked out of the kitchen.

  Chloe received instructions on the amount of birdseed needed and how to refill the water bottle.

  She cooed to Gwendolyn and the bird answered her with “Pretty lady.” That did it. She was officially in love.

  “I may not want to give her back,” she said with a smile.

  McCall grinned too. “I feel a lot better knowing she’s in good hands.”

  “So where are you going for Thanksgiving that you can’t take your pets?”

  “I’m from California originally. Most of the family is still there.”

  “California. I’ve never been there, but I’d like to go someday. It must be interesting to live near Hollywood and all that.”

  “I live closer to Oregon than Hollywood.”

  “Oh. So I guess you’re used to colder weather.”

  “Yeah, but that area gets a lot more rain than snow.” He stuck his hands in his jacket pockets. “I should get going. Where would you like to keep Gwendolyn? I’ll take her cage and stand if you’ll just grab her seed.” He pointed to a large bag of birdseed on the kitchen counter.

  “Sure. I can keep her in my room while I’m here. If she makes too much noise and keeps the guys up—”

  “She won’t,” he said. “But yeah. You could keep her in an office or the training room. Just don’t put her anywhere cold, like the basement, or where there are fumes, like the garage.”

  “Don’t worry about a thing. I’ll take very good care of her. If the guys complain, my brother may be willin’…although maybe not. He runs a bed-and-breakfast. You’re sure she won’t squawk all night?”

  “Positive. Just cover her cage.” He kissed her cheek and took the bird and stand into the hall just as Haggarty and the lieutenant strolled in. They halted, eyebrows raised.

  “I didn’t know you had a boyfriend, Arish,” Haggarty said.

  “I don’t.” She didn’t have time for chitchat. McCall was headed toward the stairs and he’d need to know which room was hers. She grabbed the seed and strode after him.

  “That’s not what it looked like to me,” she heard Haggarty say. “What did it look like to you, Lieutenant?”

  She didn’t hear his answer, and she didn’t want to. She simply wanted to get the bird up to her room. She’d cover her if anyone was sleeping. It could be days before anyone knew the beautiful African gray was there.

  With any luck.

  * * *

  Ryan returned to the kitchen. He never had gotten the cup of coffee he’d gone there for in the first place.

  Haggarty and Streeter glanced up at him.

  “Did you know Chloe and McCall are seeing each other?” Haggarty asked him with a sly smile.

  If Haggarty thinks he’s going to get a rise out of me, he has another thing coming. Ryan returned his smirk. “If by that you mean they have eyeballs and are probably looking at each other when they talk, then yeah. I guess they’re ‘seeing’ each other.” He used air quotes to rub in the sarcasm.

  “He kissed her.”

  Shit. How should he respond to that news? Not with the jealousy that suddenly surged through him. That would set tongues wagging. He simply shrugged.

  “You don’t seem to care. So, if he’s not asking her out right now, you wouldn’t mind if I do?” Haggarty asked.

  Ryan leaned back and burst out laughing. He hadn’t had a good belly laugh like that in a while.

  Haggarty was frowning. “What’s so funny? Oh, you mean because I’ve given her a hard time? Some chicks dig that, and if not she’ll be flattered anyway.”

  Ryan had to struggle to get his mirth under control. When he could finally speak, he said, “Go right ahead. I’d just like to watch when she shoots you down.”

  He reared back, looking offended. “What makes you think she’ll shoot me down?”

  Think fast. You can’t say “because she hates your guts.” “I overheard her being asked out by one of our fellow trainees. I think she said something about hell freezing over before she dates a firefighter.”

  “Yeah. Okay. I can see why she might not want to do that.”

  The lieutenant, who’d been quiet up to that point, looked relieved. “I’m glad she thinks it’s a bad idea.”

  “Why’s that?” Haggarty asked.

  “Because it is.”

  “Well, I just came in for a cup of coffee,” Ryan said. “Thanks for the, um, interesting conversation.”

  “Hey, you won’t say anything to Arish, right?” Haggarty narrowed his eyes.

  “Of course not. What am I, twelve?” Ryan grabbed his coffee and left the kitchen. He took determined strides to the third-floor stairway—and Chloe.

  * * *

  Ryan stepped inside Chloe’s room and closed the door. “Did you know Haggarty was thinking of asking you out?”

  She almost dropped the bird’s dirty newspaper. “What did you say?”

  Ryan folded his arms and leaned against her closed door, smirking. “I said Haggarty wants to ask you out.”

  “On a date or to meet a firing squad?”

  Ryan chuckled and scratched his head. “I know, huh? I was as shocked as you are.”

  “Are you sure you’re talkin’ about feckin’ Haggarty? The feckin’ thorn in my rib since I got here?”

  “Positive. He asked if you were seeing McCall first.”

  She crumpled up the old newspaper and tossed it in the wastebasket. “Idjit. He saw McCall give me that unasked-for, unwelcome kiss on the cheek for takin’ care of Gwendolyn.”

  “That’s what I thought too. But there’s something you should know abo
ut American men.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “Sometimes the more they seem to hate you, the more they like you.”

  She rolled her eyes as she peeled off a couple of new layers of newspaper. “Irish lads can be like that, but they usually outgrow it. One laddie actually tried to put gum in my hair once.”

  Ryan groaned. “What happened to him?”

  A sly smile crossed her face. “Let’s just say the gum landed on the end of his nose, and then his nose landed in the dirt.”

  Ryan laughed.

  She laid the clean newspaper in the bottom of Gwendolyn’s cage and continued puzzling out the information she’d been given. “But men do this here in America? I’d have thought they’d grow out of that behavior quick when they finally realize what they want us females for. Or do your women sleep with them even if they’re treated badly?”

  Ryan plopped down onto her bed. “Some do. I’ve never understood that, but it happens.”

  “Sheesh.” Chloe wagged her head. “Feckin’ Haggarty. So what did you tell him?”

  “I made up a little white lie. I said I’d overheard you turn down a date with a fellow trainee of ours. And then for good measure I added that you’d said hell would freeze over before you’d date a firefighter.”

  She walked over to him, grabbed him underneath the arms, and hauled him onto his feet. “That sounds like somethin’ I’d say.”

  He grinned. “Maybe this isn’t the best timing, but I got two tickets to a Celtics game. Do you still want to go?”

  “Ha. If you were considerin’ it a date, then ’tis poor timin’ indeed. But if you saved me from havin’ to turn down a feckin’ date with feckin’ Haggarty, then you did me a major favor. I’d be happy to accompany you to this Celtics game if I have the night free.”

  “I picked one of our days off next week and avoided Friday. I think that’s when you play at the tearoom, right?”

  “This crazy schedule may mess up some sessions, but I plan to be there whenever I can. My sister Shannon will fill in for me if I can’t be there.”

  “Our tickets are for Wednesday.”

  “About a week before Christmas then.”

  “Yeah. Is that doable?”

  Her eyebrows raised. “Doable?”

  He smiled. “Yeah. It means, can you do that?”

  “Ah. In that case, yes. I’m doable.”

  He grinned at her but didn’t say anything.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. You’re just…adorkable.” With that, he swooped in and gave her a quick kiss, then opened the door and sauntered away, whistling.

  “Feckin’ men…” she muttered.

  “Feckin’ Haggarty!” Gwendolyn announced.

  “Shite!” Chloe threw the cover over the cage. “You will forget those words if you want your next meal, birdie. If not, he’ll probably have Nagle make parrot for dinner.”

  * * *

  The following Tuesday, Ryan grabbed Chloe in the hallway and pulled her into one of the vacant offices, shutting the door.

  “What’s goin’ on?” she demanded.

  He grinned as he pulled two tickets out of his pocket. “Are you ready to be introduced to an American sport with an Irish flair?”

  “Drinkin’ whiskey and brawlin’?”

  He laughed. “Probably not. How about beer and basketball?”

  “I guess it sounds okay. A little tame though.” A slow smile crept across her lips.

  He couldn’t help himself. He hadn’t kissed her in days. He swooped in and captured her delectable mouth. She responded instantly, wrapping her arms around his neck and meeting his tongue with hers.

  Perhaps she’d missed his kisses as much as he’d missed hers. But they had to be careful. Chances are the lieutenant would tell the captain, and then…who knew what would happen? If one of them wasn’t transferred right away, they’d at least be operating under a high level of scrutiny.

  Ryan had tried to casually ask about couples on the same shift at the most recent family Sunday dinner.

  There was precious little information since in-house females were rare, but Jayce had said he knew of a couple in another city. Apparently they had been split and were now working in different groups. It was a pain trying to get together, so they eventually broke up. Or maybe they’d broken up and then one of them had to change groups. Jayce wasn’t sure.

  Ryan’s father had reminisced about one of the earliest female firefighters. She was already married and became a firefighter after helping her husband study for his exams. Apparently what her husband was doing to help people made an impression on her. She wound up retiring as a chief…and they stayed together.

  None of that had really helped. It seemed like things could go either way. He wondered if the couple who’d split up would have reconciled if they’d continued to work side by side.

  He’d dropped the subject as soon as his brothers started getting suspicious. When Noah came right out and asked if he was interested in the new female probie in his firehouse, he’d laughed. Then he told the same lie he’d told to Haggarty—about her declaring she wouldn’t date a firefighter until hell froze over. She hadn’t seemed to mind his saying it the first time, so he figured he’d be in the clear if it ever got back to her.

  Miguel and Jayce gave each other a look, as if they had been talking beforehand and were thinking the same thing. Sometimes the Fierros seemed to have a psychic shorthand. They weren’t telepaths. They just had some sort of nonverbal communication where a significant glance conveyed something specific and was usually interpreted correctly.

  The only look he received that he could interpret was one of sympathy from Miguel’s wife.

  Had they been feeling sorry for him? That would truly suck. He wished he could tell them about his relationship with Chloe, but he didn’t know what it was yet.

  He didn’t want to spook her by asking her out on a date. At this point, it was enough just to spend time with her. Her smile, which used to be seen so rarely, seemed to appear just for him as soon as he walked into any room. He couldn’t help returning it too.

  No wonder the guys suspected their attraction. He had to figure out a way to make this thing work—whatever it was.

  * * *

  “So how are we gettin’ to this game?” Chloe asked. “Together? Or should I meet you there?”

  Ryan chuckled. “I’d better take you since you’ve never been to the Garden. The place is huge.”

  “You’re not worried about anyone seein’ us together?”

  “The odds are pretty slim.”

  Chloe had been trying to figure out if this was a date or just a couple of buddies enjoying a game together. Either way, if he planned to pick her up, she wanted him to keep thinking she lived at Rory and Amber’s place. Her apartment in the building next door was right across the hall from the city’s only paranormal club. An accidental fang sighting near her apartment would be hard to explain.

  “Okay. Well, you know where I live. What time should I be ready?”

  He glanced at the tickets. “The game is at seven thirty. Would you like to grab a bite to eat beforehand?”

  She sighed inwardly. Again, the invitation could go either way. “A bite to eat” could be a casual date or just buddies filling their bellies. Well, she’d put the ball back in his court. From her quick research on the game of basketball, she’d finally made sense of another American expression.

  “What would you like to do?” she asked.

  He shrugged.

  At last she lost her patience. “Oh, I give up! Is this a date or isn’t it? It makes no difference to me either way. I just want to know.”

  He laughed. “I was trying to figure that out myself.”

  “Good lord. We’re a couple of pathetic friends, aren’t we?”

  Ryan mov
ed closer and whispered, “I don’t think friends kiss with tongue.”

  At last she had her answer. This was a date. Now she just had to figure out how she felt about that.

  Aw, hell. She was delighted.

  Chapter 10

  “I don’t see a garden,” Chloe said as she glanced around the steel, glass, and concrete structure. Their bleacher seats were a few rows from the hardwood. “Even the restaurant didn’t have a hint of green.”

  Ryan laughed. “The name goes way back. I don’t know if it ever had anything to do with flowers. This isn’t the same building that used to be called The Boston Garden. That thing was condemned and this new one was rebuilt on the same spot.”

  “So why is it called the TD Garden?” Chloe asked. “Does that stand for something, like ‘Total Dude’s Garden’?”

  He grinned, but at least he didn’t laugh at her. “No. It was named after a bank.”

  “A bank? What does banking have to do with basketball?”

  “Well, I’m not sure how to answer that. I’d have to say ‘nothing and everything.’ Most arenas and stadiums are named after whoever put up the most money to build it.”

  “Oh.” She couldn’t help sounding disappointed. Modern America seemed to worship nothing but the almighty dollar. She wondered what Mother Nature would think of this “garden.”

  Ryan gazed at her. “Were you expecting a botanical garden or something? We have one of those too. Just not here.”

  She smiled. “No. I didn’t have any real expectations. I’m just interested in seeing this new game of yours.”

  “New game?” He laughed. “Are you one of those Europeans who think everything in America is modern just because we’ve only been a country for two hundred and fifty years or so?”

  She snorted. She quickly covered her nostril in case she accidentally blew out a stream of smoke. He certainly didn’t know that most of what existed in Ireland was modern to her.

  St. Patrick had tried to evict all reptiles from Ireland in the fourth century. Her race had managed to survive in caves off the western coast, so they existed even before that. No one knew when the original dragons appeared. She supposed she could ask Mother Nature sometime, but chances are she’d get some kind of snarky or bored response.

 

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