Charming the Firefighter

by Beth Andrews

  “I want to ask you to come inside,” he said. “I want to take you to bed, Penelope.”

  Wow. Wow, wow, wow. It was flattering and frightening. Too much too fast. “I can’t. Not yet. You need to know, maybe not ever.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I figured.” Still, he leaned forward and gave her a sweet, warm kiss. “Too soon. That’s okay, I’m a patient guy. I can wait for you.”

  He climbed out, then turned and leaned into the car. “You’re worth waiting for, Penelope.”

  He shut the door and walked to his house. She sat there stunned, watching until he went inside.

  You’re worth waiting for.

  No one had ever thought so before.

  * * *

  FRIDAY NIGHT, PENELOPE made her way through the crowd to the stands at the football field. She’d dressed in jeans and a heavy sweater, and prayed the weather held. She had no idea how long a football game lasted or how cold it would get.

  “Penelope!”

  Frowning—who on earth would be calling her name?—she glanced around, then smiled to see Mr. Montesano waving at her, a grin on his face. “Hello,” she said when she joined him. “It’s nice to see you again.”

  To her shock, he gave her a quick, hard hug. “You, too. Are you excited about the game?”

  She glanced at the field where the teams were warming up. Excited wasn’t exactly how she’d put it. “I’m...happy that Andrew’s so excited,” she finally said. And her son was that indeed. He’d practically bounced off the walls at breakfast, bugging her to make sure he had all his gear, checking and rechecking his bag, only to call her midway through the day asking her to drop off his spikes after school. “He’s really looking forward to playing.”

  “Remember how Leo would get before a game?” Mr. Montesano asked the middle-aged gentleman next to him.

  The other man chuckled. “Like a cat in a room filled with rocking chairs. That boy always did have too much energy.”

  “Penelope,” Mr. Montesano said, “this is my son, Frank. And his wife, Rose—your Leo’s parents.”

  “Your Leo?” a gorgeous brunette said, then gave Rose a nudge. “Did you hear that?”

  Rose smiled. “There’s nothing wrong with my hearing, Madelyn.”

  Madelyn. Penelope’s eyes widened and she looked at the group, quickly surmising that this was Leo’s family.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” Leo’s mother said, taking Penelope’s hand. “These are my older sons, James and Eddie.” James was as tall as Leo, though not as broad. Eddie, shorter than both his brothers, was wider, his eyes hazel instead of brown. “James’s wife, Sadie, Eddie’s girlfriend, Harper, and Harper’s daughter, Cassidy.”

  Penelope tried to smile, hoped it looked less forced than it felt. “Nice to meet you all.”

  Sadie had long, flyaway blond hair and had poured herself into a pair of tight bright pink jeans that no one over the age of eighteen should wear. Harper was just as pretty, her hair a darker honey-blond that swung to just above her shoulders. Her daughter was adorable in an oversize sports jersey.

  “And I’m Maddie,” the brunette said, not even bothering to hide how she was sizing up Penelope. “Leo’s very favorite sister.”

  Penelope frowned. Wasn’t Madelyn his only sister? Penelope abandoned that thought as she again surveyed the group. Goodness gracious. And Mr. Montesano had called Leo hers.

  “He’s not mine,” she told Madelyn, but the words came out a squeak and that would not do. When she was nervous or around strangers, she often felt inadequate and unsure, but right now she wanted to show even a touch of confidence. “We’re...friends.”

  I don’t want to be your friend. I want you.

  Horrified, Penelope glanced at Rose as if Leo’s mother could read her thoughts, could somehow tell what she was thinking. Or, worse, see some of the heated and very non-platonic dreams Penelope had had about Leo.

  “Right. Friends,” Mr. Montesano said. “That’s what I meant.”

  His expression seemed innocent enough, but she wasn’t buying it. She shifted her blanket to her other arm. “Well, I hope you all enjoy the game.”

  “Won’t you join us?” Rose asked. She was an attractive woman, her dark, chin-length hair sprinkled with gray. “Unless you’re meeting someone? Or have plans to sit with some of the other mothers?”

  “Actually, I haven’t met too many of them yet.” She supposed she should do that, should make more of an effort when it came to her son’s social network. Should know the parents of the boys Andrew was spending so much time with. But the thought of doing it tonight, of sitting with strangers who didn’t share her worries, who would probably think she was foolish to be concerned over her son’s well-being, was too much for her.

  “Come on,” Madelyn said, scooting over so Penelope could sit between her and Rose. “Sit with us. I promise we don’t bite.”

  “Don’t believe her,” James said. “I still have the scar from when she chomped on me.”

  “I was three and you were pissing me off,” Madelyn said sweetly.

  “She’s right,” Rose said. “You deserved it for teasing her.”

  “It still hurts,” he murmured, giving his mother a hangdog look.

  Madelyn jabbed her elbow into his leg. “You big baby.”

  James leaned forward and told Penelope, “Just a friendly warning. You always need to watch your back around Maddie.”

  Maddie rolled her eyes. “Yes, yes, I’m extremely dangerous, blah, blah, blah.” She grinned at Penelope. “Come on. We’d love to get know Leo’s latest...friend better.”

  Penelope sat. “Why do I get the feeling there’s more to that statement than I’d be comfortable knowing?”

  “Because you’re obviously a very wise woman filled with good sense—though that begs the question of why you’re friends with my idiot brother,” Maddie said as the marching band came onto the field.

  “I thought I was your idiot brother,” Eddie said.

  “Just one of many, my friend,” Maddie said, patting his knee. “One of many.”

  Penelope didn’t know how to act or react. She was sitting between Leo’s sister and mother and feeling very uncomfortable about it all considering that the last time she saw Leo she’d kissed him.

  She wrinkled her nose. Kissed? They’d made out in her car like a couple of teenagers. She slid a sidelong glance at Rose. Oh, dear Lord, Penelope hoped his mother didn’t know what they’d been doing. As a mother herself, she was pretty certain she could live forever without Andrew ever having sex.

  “How long have you and Leo known each other?” Rose asked, but not in a suspicious way that made Penelope uneasy.

  “A couple of weeks.”

  “From your son playing football?”

  Penelope’s face warmed. “Actually,” she said, unable to meet the other woman’s eyes, “we met on Labor Day when Leo came to my house. I had a slight...accident with my gas grill that day.”

  “Gas grills are death traps,” Sadie said, leaning forward to look at Penelope. Her expression serious, she nodded once. “Death traps.”

  Penelope had to agree. “Leo was very...capable.”

  “He’s a regular Boy Scout,” Maddie said, not sounding too happy about it. “Except when it comes to dealing with my boyfriend.”

  “No need to be mean,” Rose said. “Whatever issues Leo has with Neil—and vice versa—they’ll work out on their own.”

  Maddie crossed her arms. “Yeah, in the meantime I have to be the one in the middle.”

  Rose reached in front of Penelope and touched Maddie’s arm. “If you don’t like where you’re standing—”

  “I know, I know.” Maddie sighed. “Move.”

  “Right.”

  “Who’s Neil?” Penelope couldn’t help but ask. Leo hadn’t mentioned anyone named Neil.

  “Maddie’s boyfriend,” Leo’s mother said.

  “I hate that,” Maddie grumbled. “I’m a thirty-year-old woman. Aren’t I t
oo old to have a boyfriend?”

  “Never. Besides, that’ll change when Neil becomes your fiancé. And when will that be?”

  “Oh, hold on,” Maddie said, standing. “I think I hear my daughter calling.”

  “Bree’s on the other side of the field,” Rose pointed out.

  Maddie still shrugged on her jacket. “Coming, Bree.”

  And she walked away.

  Leo’s family certainly was...unique. A voice boomed out of the loudspeaker and announced the teams’ lineups, then a sweet-voiced girl sang the national anthem. By the time for kickoff, Penelope was a nervous wreck.

  “Are you all right?” Rose asked.

  “Fine,” Penelope lied.

  Rose gently pried Penelope’s fingers from the program she was crushing. “Is this the first year your son has played?”

  “Yes.” Penelope couldn’t take her eyes off the field where Andrew was lined up, ready to receive the kick from the other team. “This is the first game I’ve ever been to.”

  “Ever? You never went to a high-school football game?”

  Penelope shook her head. “I never understood the game so I didn’t bother.” Had always considered sports to be a waste of time. “I studied up on the game this week. Mr. Montesano...that is...Big Leo—” and she felt incredibly silly calling him that “—explained the basics to me during practice the other day, but I was still confused so I looked up a few things online.”

  “That’s smart. And shows that even though you may not be one hundred percent behind your son playing, you’re willing to find out more about the game and show an interest in it and him.”

  Penelope was proud Rose thought so and wondered if Andrew would agree with the other woman’s assessment. The game started, and by the third quarter, she was more relaxed. Maddie had returned, and Penelope had figured out that whatever animosity existed between Leo and her boyfriend dated back years. She was curious enough that she planned on asking him about it, as he was so easygoing. She couldn’t imagine him feeling hostility toward anyone.

  The entire game was almost enjoyable. Almost. If she wasn’t so worried about Andrew, didn’t flinch and gasp each time he got tackled or bumped or hit, she might have enjoyed it more. The Montesanos were a loud, chatty bunch except for Eddie and, it seemed, his young son, Max, who stopped playing with his friends on the other side of the field long enough to come ask for money.

  But she was definitely out of place with them. They were lighthearted, and there was constant teasing and what she hoped was good-natured ribbing. She felt stiff, rigid and humorless.

  It was the middle of the fourth quarter when Andrew got hit. Hard. Penelope jumped to her feet when her son didn’t get up. “It’s okay,” Rose told her, holding her arm. “Leo will take good care of him.”

  But she didn’t want Leo to take care of him. She should be down there. When she made to move forward, Maddie stopped her. “I understand you’re worried, but give him a minute before you rush onto the field.”

  Penelope realized she was right. She’d look foolish racing down there, insisting she take him to the E.R. to get checked out. The wait until he finally got to his feet and limped off the field was agonizingly long.

  “I should take him to the hospital,” she said to no one in particular.

  “It’s a tough sport to watch,” Rose said soothingly, rubbing Penelope’s arm. “My own boys played. James was always careful, rarely got hurt. Eddie quietly went about his business, but Leo? That boy gave me a heart attack every Friday night.”

  “How did you deal with it then? And how do you deal with it now knowing that if there’s danger, while most people are running away from it, he’s running toward it?”

  “It’s not easy, believe me, but I couldn’t ask him to give any of that up. It’s a part of him. He loves helping people. He loves the thrill of it, too. As parents, sometimes the best thing we can do for our children is let them go. Encouraging them to take chances is the hardest thing we do because when they hurt, we hurt.” Rose squeezed Penelope’s hand. “Look.”

  Penelope followed Rose’s gaze to see Andrew run onto the field from the sidelines. “He’s okay,” she breathed.

  “He probably had the wind knocked out of him.”

  The minutes ticked away and Andrew’s team was behind by six. To win they needed more points than a field goal would give them, so only a touchdown would do. Third down and long, Andrew raced down the field, cut left and lost his defender. The quarterback threw the ball—high and to the right of Andrew, but he somehow managed to leap in the air, catch it with one hand and evade two tackles to get into the end zone.

  The crowd went wild. Even Penelope found herself on her feet cheering and yelling. They kicked the extra point and less than a minute later, the game was over, the defense having held their opponents to the middle of the field.

  After the teams shook hands, Andrew ran up to the bleachers and gave Penelope a big hug. Tears stung her eyes. He was so happy. So proud.

  Maybe this was one of those times when it was worth taking a risk.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  ANDREW COULDN’T STOP SMILING.

  He felt like a dork but hey, he had caught the pass and run in for the winning touchdown. Maybe it was okay that he was standing there, getting slapped on the back by his teammates and enjoying the shit out of being the hero.

  “Andrew!”

  He looked over as Kennedy came running toward him, her hair floating behind her, a huge smile on her face, her breasts bouncing in a way that was hard to look away from.

  “You were awesome!” she squealed when she reached him. Then she leaped into his arms.

  He shut his eyes and held on tight. Yeah, being the hero was definitely the best thing ever. Kennedy did a little shimmy thing that had his body tightening. He knew he should let go, but she felt so good in his arms, all curvy and soft, and she smelled great, like sugar cookies, totally sweet and tempting.

  While he probably was pretty rank, but she kept hugging him and making that squealing sound so he didn’t think she minded.

  Finally, she leaned back. “I was so excited when you caught that pass. Oh, my God, we were all going crazy. You’re, like, the hero of the game!”

  His thoughts exactly.

  “Hey,” Luke said, coming up behind Andrew and giving him a slap on the shoulder. Andrew tensed, worried Luke would be pissed his girlfriend had hugged Andrew—was still technically hugging him—but when he glanced over, Luke was grinning. “Great job, dude.”

  “Thanks,” he said.

  “That’s what I was just saying,” Kennedy said. She gave him another squeeze, then hopped over to hug Luke.

  Envy ate at Andrew. Why couldn’t she look at him like that? What did he have to do to make that happen? “You had a good game, too,” he said, realizing he should say something to Luke instead of standing there staring at the other guy’s girlfriend like a pathetic loser. “That block you made in the third quarter stopped them from getting the first down.”

  Luke shrugged. Slung his arm around Kennedy’s shoulder. She wore Luke’s other jersey, the one for the away games, and had tied the hem of the oversize shirt so it clung to her curves the way her jeans did. Andrew wanted to see her wearing his jersey with his number.

  “I just did my job.” Luke glanced at Kennedy. “I’m going to shower then we’ll get something to eat.” He faced Andrew. “You want to come?” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Jess said she’d go, too.”

  At that moment Jessica joined them. “Congratulations, Andrew!” She, too, hugged him. Hell, he’d never been hugged by two hot girls in one night before. He’d never been hugged by two girls period in one night.

  Jess wasn’t Kennedy, but she was pretty. Still, when Kennedy left to say goodbye to her parents, he didn’t know what to say to Jess. He shifted. “You...uh...want to get something to eat with us?”

  He winced because, duh, hadn’t Luke already said she did? But Jess just smiled. Rubbed his arm. “Sure
. I’ll wait with Kennedy while you get cleaned up.”

  He nodded and headed toward the locker room.

  “Drew,” Coach called. “Wait up.”

  Andrew stopped to see the coach jogging toward him. He wasn’t sure how he felt about his mom going out for coffee with him. He thought maybe it wasn’t too bad. Coach was cool, though, so why he’d be interested in dating Andrew’s mom was beyond him. She wasn’t exactly fun. Yeah, he guessed she was pretty enough—for someone who was old. Still, he didn’t really like the idea of her dating. Not that he thought his folks had a chance of getting back together—he wasn’t an idiot. That dream had died when his dad remarried.

  Even so, the idea of his mom dating, being single and going out with men... It was too weird. She was his mom. Not a woman.

  “Here,” Coach said, holding out the game football. “You deserve this.”

  Andrew took it. “Thanks.” Having the game ball was almost as cool as having two hot girls hug him. He knew exactly where he was going to put the football in his room, could already picture it on his shelf.

  “I know I already told you this, but you did a great job out there. And not just with that last catch, but the whole game. I’m proud of you.”

  Warmth suffused Andrew and he dropped his gaze. It was cool that someone like the coach was proud of him, but there was still something Andrew had to know...

  “Are you and my mom going to go out again?” he asked.

  Coach raised his eyebrows. “I’m not sure. Why?”

  Andrew shrugged. Tossed the ball from hand to hand. “It’s a little weird for me, that’s all.”

  “In what way?”

  “You’re my coach and she’s my mom.” Duh. How could he not get that?

  Coach studied him as if he could see the real reasons Andrew didn’t want them dating, didn’t want his mom dating anyone at all. It was just wrong. “I am your coach and I’m sorry if it’s awkward for you, but I enjoy spending time with your mother and if she’s agreeable to it, I’d like to take her out again.”

  Even if Andrew didn’t want him to? That didn’t seem fair. “Yeah. Okay. Whatever,” he muttered and walked away.