The Firefighter to Heal Her Heart Read online

  “Of course! Just having a little daydream!” A rotten one.

  She scooped up her keys from her desk and grabbed her handbag. Better get it over and done with. “Ready to go?”

  * * *

  Jack recognized the car as it pulled into the station and felt an instant shot of remorse. He was overdue, long overdue, in apologizing to Liesel for his stupid behavior. There was no excuse—well, there were excuses but none that made up for pulling her into his arms, sharing mind-blowing kisses with her and then virtually writing her off the next day at the station. And the one hundred and seventeen or so hours since then. He was going to have to do some serious backpedaling.

  He strode toward the car, intent on making things up to her.

  “Kev! You sure look sharp, mate.”

  Was that Liesel already sticking the car into reverse? Wasn’t she even going to say hello?

  He grabbed hold of the passenger-side door before Kevin could slam it shut.

  “Hey, Liesel. How are you going?” Lame. Lame and pathetic. And cowardly.

  “Late to pick up Liam. Do you mind?” Her head tipped toward the door he was holding open, clearly not interested in chitchat. And she’s back in the ring!

  “Liesel, hang on a second.” He held on to the car door, despite the fact he could feel her moving the vehicle slowly back down the sloping station drive. “Blimey, what happened there? Are you all right?”

  “What do you mean?” He watched her turn bright red as she took in what he’d pointed out—a huge stain covering most of her body-hugging blue top.

  “Work.”

  She’s not really giving away much, is she? Or does she think I’m just staring at her breasts? Which is exactly what I’m doing. Stop it, Jack!

  “What happened?”

  “Too much chocolate birthday cake for one of the youngsters.”

  “Crikey. Not really a job perk, is it?”

  Her face showed she was doing anything but enjoying his stab at casual banter.

  “Sorry. I’m late and I’m not going to let my son down. He likes consistency.” And another hit! A palpable hit! Suck it up, Jack. She’s in the right here.

  “I owe you an apology.”

  “You don’t owe me anything.”

  Her eyes flicked up to his and he felt the same electric jolt of attraction he had the very first time he’d laid eyes on her. Feisty, gorgeous and trying her best to run him over.

  “I do, Liesel. An apology and an explanation.” A clutch of cadets gathered outside the station house were openly watching as his walk turned into a jog as he tried to hang on to the car door. He looked like a stalker. Way to lead by example, Jack!

  “I was a jerk. Please. Just give me a few minutes to explain.”

  Her car shook from the quick application of brakes.

  Good! She was softening. No more playing hard to get. He closed the passenger door he’d been hanging on to, leaned down and stuck his head through the window. Perhaps a wry grin would put things on a better note...

  “Listen to me, Captain Keller. I don’t play games. Never have, never will. And I will not let some daredevil fireman wreak havoc with my life or, more important, my son’s. So back off.”

  Ouch. He wasn’t entirely sure how she made a clenched jaw and words bit out through gritted teeth appealing, but it was just about all he could do not to jump into the car with her and prove the last thing he was was a fly-by-night. Wrestling with priorities? Absolutely. Game player? Not anymore.

  “Liesel, please.” He couldn’t help a moment’s distraction by some poorly timed laughter from the boys. “Give me a chance?”

  “I’m sorry, Jack, I have to keep my priorities in order and being treated like a hanger-on is most definitely not one of them. Please let go of the car. I have to collect my son.”

  Jack took a quick glimpse up at the cadets and waved them toward the ladder tower, where they’d be running drills. “Get yourselves a bottle of water from the cool box, boys. I’ll be with you in a second.”

  He dipped his head back into Liesel’s car window. “Liesel, I know I don’t deserve it, but let me explain.” Her expression remained neutral. “Over dinner?” He saw her tip her chin up ready to make an excuse but before she could start he jumped in, “I’ll make it for you—at yours—once the little man’s gone to bed.”

  She narrowed her eyes, clearly reluctant to agree. She sure did make mad look good. Really good.

  “I make a mean lemon tart.”

  He saw her lips twitch a bit.

  Was that a smile she was fighting? He hoped so.

  “C’mon. Say yes. Fighting with you is no fun.”

  “Is that what we’re doing, Captain?” She quirked an eyebrow at him.

  “Not if I have anything to say about it.” He thought he would plunge forward and take her lack of a refusal as a yes. Just about as tentative a yes as you could get but he was pretty sure if—or when—he showed up at her house tonight he wouldn’t get the door slammed in his face.

  * * *

  As she glanced in the rearview mirror, Liesel was surprised she didn’t see steam coming out of her ears. And goofy cartoon love hearts. How mortifying. Covered in a child’s vomit and trying to play it cool? Disasterville! Or was it? Did she have a date with Jack tonight? It seemed like it, didn’t it?

  Even so, Cassie should count herself lucky she was in parent-teacher conferences or they would most assuredly be having words. Sharp ones.

  And Jack Keller? She didn’t know whether to close her heart for good or let the cartoon lovebirds swirling around her carry on with their chirping.

  Tonight! Her heart skipped a beat. Traitor!

  She drummed her fingers along the top of the steering wheel. What was there left to be angry about?

  I know, she thought facetiously: child abuse! How dare Cassie use her own son to get her within spitting distance of the one man in the whole of Australia who had her every nerve end smarting with embarrassment. And frustration. Not to mention a healthy dollop of regret that things hadn’t taken a fairy-tale course.

  Then again, lots of bad things happened in fairy tales—evil witches, danger-filled woods, charming wolves dressed in sheep’s clothing...

  These days the dangerous bits of the old-fashioned stories were edited out. But this was real life. No director. No editor. Just good old-fashioned making it through day by day.

  If she hadn’t known better, Liesel would have sworn all the blood in her body was churning its way up to a storm-force hurricane. Hurricane Liesel! It had a nice ring to it.

  Common sense was telling her to cut Jack out of the picture. Kissing him had unearthed a big fat pile of psychological laundry she could hardly begin to sort through, let alone press, fold and put away in the attic. If only she really could stuff all her feelings in the cupboard and close the door. That’d be the life!

  Being angry with Jack had been easy when she hadn’t seen him. The second those bright blue eyes of his had met hers? Putty.

  She flicked on the radio for the five-minute drive back to the day care to pick up Liam. A little smile played across her lips as she imagined her son running toward her and jumping into her arms as he did every day at pickup. He was getting more handsome every day and—curiously—more of an amalgam of herself and Eric. The first year or so he had almost exclusively looked like Eric and now he was definitely a product of the two of them.

  Her thoughts shifted a bit too quickly back to the dangerously blue eyes and thick thatch of blond hair her fingers had itched to run through just a few short days ago. The stubble outlining that pair of cheekbones a model would be happy to sport. Tanned forearms propped on her car’s window frame. Well-defined muscles nicely visible as they went taut and then relaxed beneath a light spray of blond arm hair. The man was gorgeous
.

  She’d let Jack make her dinner but would play it cool. He’d just be a nice bit of fireman eye candy she could enjoy from time to time. From now on they’d be friends.

  Her eyes flicked down to the car clock.

  Four twenty-seven.

  Liam went down at seven.

  Two and a half hours. And three minutes.

  Not that she was counting. Or worried about if she had time to take a shower, not smell like little kid puke and tame her curls in some way. This time Jack was going to know what he was missing. She wasn’t some naive country school nurse he could play mind games with. She’d traveled the world and worked on some of the most difficult trauma cases a person could imagine, for heaven’s sake! Frankly, he could come over and apologize until the cows came home, but this time she would stay strong—remain immune to his sexy, firemanly charms.

  She was woman!

  “Hear me roar!” she shouted out into the car, unconcerned if anyone saw her. She cranked up the pop music on the radio for good measure. “Roaaaarr! Take that, Captain Keller! Let’s see you take on the she-lion tonight!”

  * * *

  Jack felt his shopping basket getting heavier by the minute. He knew he couldn’t buy his way back into Liesel’s good books but he sure could try to cook his way there. Lemons... Where did they keep the lemons in this place?

  “Why, Captain Keller, what a surprise, meeting you here.”

  Jack looked up and saw Cassie Monroe sending him a Cheshire-cat grin over a pile of artisan bread.

  “G’day, Cassie. How are things?” He felt like a character in a soap opera. Mysterious but charming. He hoped.

  “Good. Good.” She nodded along with the words. “Haven’t seen you around much.”

  The words were loaded with meaning and he knew what they were saying.

  You treated my friend poorly. Really poorly. And us girls stick together.

  “It’s been mad at the station.” It was true, but even as the words left his lips he knew they sounded weak.

  “Right, of course. Fire season.” Cassie nodded along with an earnest expression. “I guess you fire blokes don’t use telephones during the high season for safety reasons?” Her facial expression read like a triumphant picture book.

  “Cease-fire! I’m on a rescue mission tonight!” Jack lifted up his basket for Cassie to inspect. He was relieved to see her nod approvingly at the collection of fresh groceries. He was going for a lemon and asparagus risotto, roasted tomatoes, all topped with a nice bit of grilled fish.

  She gave a sniff of approval. “At least you didn’t pick up a packet of snags for the barbie.” She went on tiptoe to make a more detailed inspection. “If my ex-husband had cooked this well, he might have stood more of a chance.” She laughed good-naturedly, the tension of their previous banter dispersed into the early-evening air of the open-walled farm shop.

  “Hopefully Liesel’s ex wasn’t up to much in the kitchen. I might know my ingredients but I—” Jack stopped in midflow, acutely aware Cassie had shifted into yet another mode: protective mother hen. She threw a furtive look over each of her shoulders before joining him on his side of the bread display.

  “Has she not told you?” Her voice was low, concerned.

  “Told me what?”

  “About her ex?”

  “Not a word. I thought Liesel had a don’t-ask-don’t-tell sort of thing going on.”

  Cassie fixed him with a serious glare. He could practically hear the invisible seconds ticking past. What was going on? He’d just presumed it was a loser boyfriend or husband who’d cut town when a kid had arrived on the scene, so he hadn’t pressed for details. His only thought had been that the guy must’ve been an idiot to let her go. Not to mention Liam. He was up there on the cute-kid meter.

  “Cassie,” he gently prodded. “What is it? If it will help me make things up to Liesel for being a first-class berk you’ve got to tell me. As I said, I’m on a rescue mission here.”

  She motioned him over to a quiet corner of the country store.

  “This didn’t come from me, but if you really want to make things work then you need to know the truth. I’m doing this for Liesel’s good because I can tell you this—that girl is her own worst enemy.”

  Cassie fixed him with a burn-holes-through-your-head glare. He nodded, not interested in the politics of her confession, just the content.

  “You’ll have to ask her yourself.”

  “What?”

  “You want Liesel in your life? You earn her trust—and then you’ll win her confidence.” Cassie was well into her mama-bear role now.

  “Can’t you even give me a hint?” Youch. If looks could kill.

  “Ball’s in your court, Jack. Time to kick up your game a notch.”

  * * *

  “Are you sure I can’t show you around?”

  Jack shooed Liesel away from the kitchen, handing her a cool glass of what looked like very fancy wine in the process. “Positive. You just go get yourself settled out there on the veranda and enjoy the sunset. Before you know it, dinner will be served!”

  More time to wonder what on earth was going on with this chameleon of a man. Thanks for nothing!

  Her fingers played across her lips. Lips a bit too keen to pick up the action from the last time she’d been out on the veranda with a certain someone. Maybe gnawing on them would put them off. Kissing was not on the agenda tonight.

  Her teeth released her lips. No good. Pillar of strength or not, Jack still sent her tummy’s butterflies into a tailspin.

  She chanced another peek into the kitchen. It struck her how at home he looked in her kitchen. She could hear him humming quietly to himself. Steadily chopping, frying, cleaning as he went—what a plus! He had changed from his uniform into a faded pair of jeans that hung loosely off his hips. Maybe he was hiding a secret past as a jet-setting jeans model. He looked just a bit too good.

  His trim waist was visible above the wooden countertops, swiveling here and there to hunt for a pan in a cupboard, a knife in a drawer. The broad reach of his shoulders extended farther as he stretched to pull a pair of plates down from a shelf. This was like chef porn. Or something. She really needed to get a grip.

  At the very least, she had to congratulate herself for agreeing to let Jack work his way back into her good books. She was well and truly intent on making a life for herself and Liam here in Engleton and, like it or not, Jack was part of the small-town package.

  She took another sip of the delicious wine. It was quite unlike anything she’d had before. “This wine is great, Jack. How did you hear about it?”

  “I just keep my ear to the ground. I know a thing or two about wine.”

  “Well, color me impressed—this is great. It’s local, right? You sure I can’t give you a hand?”

  “You bet. It won’t be long now.”

  * * *

  Jack didn’t feel right withholding information from her. It officially bugged him now that she didn’t know everything about him. He would get there. She’d know his whole story one day—when he had everything in place. Sorting things out with his father was just another bridge to cross and he wouldn’t be ready to go there until he had Engleton CFS station firmly placed on the map and his father’s stamp of approval.

  He looked up from his chopping, the gentle curves of Liesel’s silhouette just visible through the screen door, backlit by the final rays of the day’s sunshine. It was all too easy to imagine running a hand along the soft swoop from her waist to her hip and he felt his body respond. It would take less than a second to cross the room, pull her into his arms and kiss her as deeply and completely as if the world were about to end.

  Actions spoke louder than words?

  Most of the time. But that wasn’t what tonight was about. It was about respect
. And a healthy slice of humble pie.

  “Why don’t you come on in? Dinner’s just about ready.”

  He should have been focusing on his risotto, but found watching Liesel cross the room, fingers playing through her auburn curls, a better option.

  “That’s not a burning smell, is it?” She wrinkled up her nose and tilted her head, trying to pinpoint the source.

  Jack looked down and realized the risotto was the culprit. Staring doe-eyed at Liesel hadn’t done it any favors.

  “Is that smoke?”

  “Oh, no! The fish!” Jack whirled around to look in the grill. He reached in to pull out the grill pan, realizing too late he didn’t have an oven glove on.

  “Ow-w-w!”

  “What happened?” Liesel was by his side in an instant.

  “The fish!”

  “What about your hand?”

  “Burned.” He held it up for her to inspect.

  “Whoops.” Liesel’s voice held a barely contained giggle. “I’ll just grab some ice for— Is that pot meant to be boiling over?”

  Jack whirled around, burned hand cupped in his good one, only to find his asparagus turning to mush in a sea of frothy, boiling green water.

  “Go.” Liesel was handing him a tea towel filled with ice and pointing to the veranda.

  “But—your dinner.”

  “I think we can agree this might not be the night for me to sample your home cooking.”

  That had better be a twinkle in her eyes.

  “Here, take this. It’ll help dull the pain.” Liesel went to the fridge and pulled out the bottle of wine he’d brought and poured a few healthy glugs into a glass.

  He gratefully took the glass, feeling the chilled wine cool the red mark already rising on his hand. He lingered a moment, watching as she swiftly and efficiently switched off the oven, the stove, the grill, and removed all the burning and boiling kitchenware from the offending heat sources.

  “Would you believe this isn’t really the fine-dining evening I’d envisaged for us?”

  He watched the smile on her face grow even larger. Had he noticed how full her lips were before?