Sweet Surprise

by Candis Terry

  All was right in the world–at least for the moment. And that’s when Mike decided to strike while the iron was hot.

  “So . . . as long as I’m her favorite person right now, would this be a good time to tell her about us?”

  Twenty-four hours ago, if anyone had told Fiona she’d have a gorgeous man in her house or a nippy, yappy bundle of fur hopping around on her floor, she would have told them they were crazy. In a good way.

  Mike had followed them home to help Izzy and her puppy get settled in and to bring in the box full of dog food, toys, and assorted other necessities–such as a piddle pad–which Fiona had never even heard of.

  From the kitchen, she watched Mike and her daughter on the floor playing with the puppy and laughing side by side. Her heart melted. Together, they’d told Izzy that they were seeing each other, and she’d accepted it like it was no big deal. Maybe her little girl knew better than she what she needed. A spontaneous jolt of happiness moistened Fiona’s eyes as she turned back toward her original task.

  Mike came into the kitchen, where she was trying to throw together a spontaneous dinner with the limited ingredients she had available. “Can I help you with that?” He stood close behind her, and the heat from his big muscular body sent a dance of awareness down her spine.

  “Sure. How good are you at chopping onions?”

  “Excellent.” He took the knife from the counter and slid a sweet onion beneath the sharp edge. They stood shoulder to shoulder as he chopped the vegetable like a pro. His biceps flexed with each drop of the knife. “We all have to share cooking duties at the station.”

  “What’s your specialty?”

  “My grandmother had a knack for throwing things together.” He smiled with the memory. “Sometimes, the ingredients didn’t seem like they’d blend, but it always tasted delicious. My sisters and I have always called her casseroles Avó’s Surprise because you never really knew what was in it. I tend to follow in her footsteps. Though unlike her, I’ve never been able to re-create what I made. Each time becomes a culinary experimentation. Sometimes it turns out great. Other times, it ends up in the garbage.”

  “Really?”

  He looked up, miraculously without onion-induced tears in his dark eyes. “How about you put me to the test?”

  “You want to cook?”

  “Sure. Why not?”

  Eager to see what he could create and, she had to admit, enjoy a little break, she lifted her hands. “Have at it.”

  “Great. Then how about you go play?”

  “Play?” There were thoughts she allowed in her mind when she was in the presence of her daughter. The images flashing through now were totally inappropriate.

  “With Izzy and the pup.” His sensuous lips curled into a smile. “What did you think I meant?”

  There was no way she could blurt out that she’d been thinking of him taking off that black T-shirt and running her hands all over him.

  “I don’t know.” She grabbed her sweet tea off the counter and took a drink. “I haven’t been able to play for a long time.”

  “Then take advantage of it now.” He nodded toward the living room. “I’ve got this covered.”

  “Are you sure?”

  His gaze fell to her mouth and lingered before coming back up to her eyes. “Damned sure.”

  Several minutes later, Fiona fought to keep her focus on the puppy’s new trick of chasing her tail and not the sexy man in her kitchen whipping up something that smelled delicious.

  “Have you given her a name yet?” she asked Izzy.

  “Biscuit.”

  “That’s a great name, Izzy,” Mike called from the kitchen. “How about you take Biscuit outside to go to the bathroom, then wash your hands for dinner?”

  “Okay.”

  Fiona picked up the pup so no accidents occurred on the way to the door. Izzy followed, happily skipping out onto the front lawn. Two sniffs and a squat later, they all headed back into the house. Fiona placed the pup in the large crate Mike had brought along with a blanket, stuffed lamb, and windup clock. Apparently, Biscuit had worn herself out because she snuggled right up to the lamb and, with a huge sigh, fell fast asleep.

  Hands were washed, and they went into the kitchen to see what Mike had concocted.

  In the center of the table sat a huge casserole dish filled to the top with noodles, ground beef, onions, corn, cheese, and some kind of red sauce. It smelled even more heavenly than it looked.

  Mike Halsey could save lives, put out fires, serve the homeless, build princess castles, give a puppy to her little girl, and he could cook.

  The X’s in his good-guy column were adding up. By her observations–and constantly craving the sexy man–there was really only one checkmark left to fill.

  Studying his jaw-dropping physique as he set plates on the table, she had no doubt he’d exceed her expectations there too.

  Morning shot a rocket of light straight into Mike’s eyes. He tried to turn over and discovered that, at some point in the night, he’d fallen asleep on Fiona’s sofa. Last thing he remembered, she’d been there beside him, tucked in his embrace while they watched a DVD. Discovering their mutual love for horror flicks, they’d popped Underworld into the DVD. Between paying attention to the puppy, who loved to chew on Mike’s fingers, and chatting about things that most new couples found to discuss, Mike realized he must have completely conked out.

  With the house quiet, he took a look around the room. Fiona’s choices in furniture and accents were neither too frilly nor too masculine. The fact that she had put together such a warm and inviting home, all from secondhand resources, made everything interesting. And made her even more admirable.

  Maybe that’s why he’d fallen asleep last night. He’d been really comfortable and relaxed. The idea of going back to his own uninviting house, which had all the necessary elements yet none of the warmth, had left him cold.

  He glanced over at the empty dog crate and figured the pup had somehow ended up sleeping with Izzy. Or Fiona.

  In a distant room, he heard an alarm go off and glanced at his watch. It was 5:00 A.M. Shit. He had to get to work.

  He kicked off the blanket Fiona had no doubt thrown over him and sat up. At that moment, he heard the shuffling of feet on the hardwood floor and looked up. Fiona came into the room—mascara-smeared eyes squinting, hair looking like a tornado had touched down, and a holy-shit-I-can’t-believe-it’s-morning scowl pulling her lovely arched brows together. He wanted to laugh but didn’t think she’d appreciate it much.

  “Morning.” Her voice was rough with sleep.

  “Good morning.”

  “Did you sleep okay?” she asked.

  “Pretty good.” He’d have slept better if he’d been holding her all night. “Thanks for covering me up. Sorry, I didn’t mean to crash.”

  “Yeah.” A low chuckle rumbled from her chest. “You went out like a light right about the time Sonja turned to ash.”

  “Guess I’m lucky I made it that far.”

  She yawned and nodded. “Want coffee?”

  He found himself smiling again. Beneath her rubber-ducky robe she had on a yellow sleep tank and blue plaid boy shorts. While the fact that she obviously wasn’t wearing a bra didn’t go unnoticed, he couldn’t stop staring at her feet as she shuffled toward the kitchen.

  “Are those frog slippers?” he asked.

  She looked down. “Kermit, to be exact.”

  “I’ve never seen frog slippers. My sisters always wore house shoes that left dust bunnies all over the floor. But none had faces.”

  “I have an entire collection.” She reached in the cupboard for the container of coffee grounds and filters. “Pigs, cats, zebras, monkeys, you name it. Some women drool over Louboutin’s, I lust after cartoon-character house shoes.”

  He followed her into the kitchen. “I noticed the puppy wasn’t in the crate.”

  “Nope. She’s on my bed with Izzy.”

  “Uh-oh.”

  “He
r whining broke my heart. So I had to go get her. I’m surprised you didn’t hear her.”

  “I must have been too far gone.” He reached for her, drew her into his arms. “You’ve got a soft heart.” As she leaned in, her sleepy scent curled around him like a warm blanket.

  “Probably,” she said. “But if you tell anyone, I’ll deny it.”

  “I’m pretty sure everyone already knows. Just ask the Hawaiian-muumuu twins.”

  She laughed. “They do have me pegged for easy, don’t they?”

  “I’m good with easy.” He kissed her forehead. “And I’d love to stay for coffee, but my shift starts in an hour. So unless I want the Cap up my ass, I need to get on the road.”

  They came together in an embrace like they’d been made for each other.

  Maybe they had.

  All he knew when he ended the kiss, lifted his head, and looked deep into her eyes, was he couldn’t wait until the minute he could kiss her again.

  Chapter 15

  Shift changes were often hectic, and you never knew who’d be on duty until they walked through the firehouse door. With Jackson’s wedding coming up fast, Mike didn’t know if he’d show up or if he’d taken time off for the preparations. And while he respected that Jackson might be approaching the happiest day of his life, the subject at hand needed to be discussed.

  Sure, the timing might not be perfect, but as his grandmother always said, if everything in life were planned, there’d be no surprises. His falling like a house without walls for Fiona was definitely going to be a revelation his best friend wouldn’t have seen coming. Mike hoped it wouldn’t be the end of their friendship. But in this moment if he had to choose, he’d have to bid Jackson adieu.

  There were no guarantees things would work out between him and Fiona, but he wanted them to. He wanted that chance to have her and Izzy in his life even though he’d never expected them to be there.

  From the moment he’d laid eyes on Fiona at the charity auction until this morning when he’d left her at her door, she’d become important to him. He’d moved past smitten and cannonballed into hooked. She was every bit as delicious as her cupcakes. Every bit as addictive.

  The feeling was nothing like he’d ever experienced, and he probably wasn’t handling it as well as he could. Like the name of her cupcake shop, Fiona was a sweet surprise. She’d caught him off guard. He was eager to find out what made her happy–between the sheets as well as out from under the covers.

  To proceed, he had an obstacle that needed to be handled.

  Inside the fire station, he stowed his gear in his locker and headed toward the meeting room to check the duty charts to see what he’d been assigned on station upkeep. He hoped to God he hadn’t pulled window duty again as there seemed to be a million in the building, and each needed to be cleaned inside and out. As he hit the doorway of the meeting room, all heads already in attendance looked up as the station alert sounded.

  Engine 1, Engine 3, Engine 11, Rescue 1, Truck 1, respond to multiple-level apartment structure fire. Huebner Road at Eckhert. Flames are visible. Structure remains occupied.

  Everyone leaped from their chairs and ran toward their gear. Within seconds, they were all inside their prospective engines as the bay doors cranked opened.

  At the last second, the truck door opened, and Jackson hopped into the seat beside Mike.

  “Nice of you to show up, Crash.” Scott Smiley, often the instigator of good-humored ribbing amongst the guys, didn’t miss an opportunity when Jackson barely made it into the engine on time. “Were you too busy picking out flowers and testing cake samples to get your ass in gear?”

  Jackson flipped him the bird with a smile. “At least I can get someone to sleep with me.”

  “Yeah.” Scott leaned back in the seat, his voice lifted above the siren. “She sleeps because you’re a boring lay.”

  “Boys.” Captain John Steele’s gruff tone cut through the bullshit. “Let’s focus. Shall we?”

  A round of “yes, sirs” floated through the cab.

  “And, Wilder?”

  “Yes, Cap?”

  Captain John Steele didn’t bother to turn and look into the back to deliver his censure. The heat of his words carried all the impact needed to make his point. “I don’t care if a troupe of Victoria Secret’s models want your body, you show up on time.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Mike chuckled with the rest of the guys. The brotherhood he’d never known when he was a kid growing up with all sisters never ceased to fill him with a unique sense of belonging. He glanced at the man next to him. Aware of the conversation they needed to have, his gut tightened.

  Jackson gave him a nod as he buckled his coat. “You make it on time?”

  “With half a minute to spare.”

  “I’d blame being late on traffic but . . .” A grin slid across Jackson’s face. “Abby thought she’d share an early bachelorette party gift.”

  “Ah, shit.” Smiley kicked Jackson’s boot. “Spare the details for the poor single souls.”

  “Thought you and Shari were an ongoing thing,” Mike said to Scott.

  “More off than on.”

  Jackson went in for the kill. “Jealous?”

  “Fuck yes.” Smiley shoved a hand through his short brown hair. “Can’t remember the last time Shari surprised me with something slinky and see-thru.”

  “Maybe you two should go off to somewhere romantic and rediscover each other,” Mike said, realizing too late that he sounded like a fucking counselor. Or a chick.

  Jesus.

  “Nah.” Scott frowned. “I think it’s time to move on. I need someone who’ll put a big-ass dose of fire in my blood. Shari’s fallen into the ice-queen category.”

  Relationships were two-way streets. Mike had learned that lesson the hard way. He’d met Shari, and he wondered why Scott would give up so easily on a relationship with what seemed like a really nice girl. Then again, it wasn’t any of his damn business. When he and Heather had gone through their shit, the guys had pretty much left him alone to wallow in the cesspool called divorce.

  Everyone had left him alone except Jackson.

  The two of them had bonded over lost loves and big mistakes. They’d found a wordless understanding about the loss of a sibling. They’d shared hopes and dreams for the future and the trials and tribulations of being firefighters. Hell, they’d even fallen through the roof of a fully engulfed roofing factory together. A couple of guys couldn’t get much closer than that. And if they did, Mike didn’t want the details.

  Hands down, Jackson Wilder was the closest Mike would ever have to a brother.

  “What about you?” Scott asked Mike. “Any new prospects?”

  “Why?” With the entire crew present, now was not the time to let the proverbial cat out of the bag. So Mike jumped on the bullshit bandwagon. “You looking for leftovers?”

  “Fuck you, Hooch.”

  On the surface, Mike laughed, when really, he could feel the sweat trickle down his neck. There was no rhyme or reason to the way he felt about Fiona. But she was a fire in his blood and a balm to his soul he didn’t want to let go.

  A moment later, the engine rolled up on a high-end apartment complex where flames licked out the windows of several ground-floor apartments and one on the second floor. Thick black smoke swirled up into a wicked plume high in the sky. Clusters of residents stood in the parking lot, dressed in everything from nightgowns to business attire. Some were biting their nails, others had obviously found their morning entertainment.

  Mike wanted to tell them there wasn’t a damned thing entertaining about fire.

  Jackson looked out the window and gave a long whistle. “Gonna be a long shift.”

  “Yep,” Mike said. “Lots of fuel for a hungry blaze.” A fire like this one could take an entire shift to put out and completely overhaul.

  They were first on scene, and as soon as the engine stopped, they all piled out. While the crew hurried to their designated stations
, the captain quickly gathered details, then started initiating orders.

  “Floors aren’t cleared. Hooch and Crash, start a door-to-door evac. If it hits the third floor, we’ll ventilate.”

  Mike reached for his flame-resistant hood and pulled it over his head. He slipped on his air pack and adjusted the straps, while Jackson did the same.

  “So what do you think?” Jackson asked, eyeing the structure. “It’s early morning. Neglected candle or bacon grease?”

  “Maybe someone was burning up the sheets,” Smiley pitched in.

  The crackle and roar of the flames grew louder, and a window shattered from the heat.

  “Hard to say at this point.” Mike pulled on his helmet. “But it looks like it’s about to get ugly.”

  He looked up while he adjusted the strap to find Jackson staring at him, brows pulled tight. “What’s wrong?”

  “I was just about to ask you the same thing.”

  “Nothing’s wrong.” Mike checked for his rope and alarm, then grabbed the axe off the truck. “Just this damn fire.”

  “Bullshit. When something’s bothering you, you get that look in your eye.”

  “Yeah,” Tim “Meat” Volkoff, their engine driver added. “Like Bambi in the center lane of the highway.”

  Mike pretended not to hear as he headed toward the building. Lives could possibly be in danger. Any discussion of his love life or lack thereof could wait till later. Prepared to do battle, he and Jackson headed toward the structure.

  “You take the second floor.” Jackson pointed. “I’ll hit up the first.”

  Mike nodded, and they parted ways at the stairs. Unwilling to waste time or endanger lives, his boots thudded heavily on the concrete slabs as he charged up to the second floor. The first two apartments were vacant. He knocked on the door of the third apartment, right above the flames.

  “Fire Department. All residents need to evacuate.”

  Though no one answered, he swore he could hear a baby cry. He knocked again and heard the cry again, only this time it sounded weaker. He tested for heat on the door, then tried the doorknob.

  Locked.

  He put a call out through his radio to see if there could be a child in the apartment. While the captain questioned the crowd, Mike heard the cry again.