“Dude, that was his sister. I wasn’t sure at first, but then I saw the last name on her mailbox. Anyway, she’s not even your usual type, right? She’s way too smart for you. Take my advice and lose that scrap of paper.”
I flipped Paxton off. Then ignored him the rest of the trip back to the station.
Hunter’s sister? Fuck me.
Halfway back, after I’d had time to digest the news, I knew it didn’t matter. Stassi may not be my typical type; did I even have a type? And it really didn’t matter whose sister she was. The connection I felt was too strong to ignore.
But would it matter to her?
CHAPTER TWO
STASSI
Austin hadn’t called or texted me and it’d been two days. My latest book now done and in the hands of my editor, I was at loose ends. And without a working oven. Not that it mattered. The cobbler was the first thing I’d baked, well, ever. I used the stovetop more, but it was sporadic at best. The microwave was my go-to appliance.
My brothers constantly teased me about my lack of cooking skills. Even Hunter, who like me was single, could cook. But Roman and Walker had lucked out and married women who at least enjoyed the process while also being exceptional cooks as they raised the next generation of Sheridans.
Oh well, at least tonight I had dinner covered. My two besties, Callie and Mika, had a date for dinner and drinks at Evergran’s Grill downtown. I’d texted them about the oven fire and the local fire department showing up, but hadn’t told them about Austin. Or the powerful connection I’d experienced and tried to hide from him and myself. I mean, that kind of thing only happened in my books, never in real life.
Yet, as the hours passed, the more I realized how much I really wanted him to contact me. And not for a discount on a new oven. He was hot and handsome in a way that went beyond glossy magazine perfection. Rugged check. Chiseled jawline check. Expressive eyes, double-check. But his nose was slightly crooked, and he had a healed scar on his left cheek. He had this energy that had wrapped around me, making me feel not just safe but cherished.
But now I questioned whether I was looking back at that night through a fantasy lens. Maybe I initially resembled a damsel in distress, but I felt I recovered pretty well after the initial shock of the oven fire. And he hadn’t so much as rescued me as kept me from tripping over my own feet. It wasn’t even a rom-com worthy scene I’d write into a future story. But there was something there. I felt it. So why hadn’t he called or texted? But more importantly, why didn’t I make the first move?
Ooh, I was too much in my head again over this. So I quickly changed out of my writing uniform of yoga pants, an oversized t-shirt, and a cardigan into my favorite jeans and the new burgundy blouse I’d treated myself to after finishing my book. Dressed, I grabbed my coat and fingerless gloves. February in north Idaho was often the coldest winter month. The drive downtown only took me ten minutes. Mika’s car was already in the lot. She was chronically early, which balanced out our friendship nicely since I was the opposite. And Callie was somewhere in between.
“Hey, gorgeous blouse. We already ordered drinks. Should be here soon.” Mika flipped her long black hair off her shoulders, totally oblivious to the interested stares from the table full of men a few feet away. She’d been complaining that all the men our age were married off, so I was about to point them out when Callie asked, “What did your brother say when you told him about the fire?”
“Nice to see you, too. I haven’t told him. Oh, look, here are our drinks.” I responded, then took a big sip of my new favorite drink, a paper airplane. “Yum, thanks for remembering how much I liked this. So, what’s new with you two?”
Her comment reminded me that it was odd Hunter hadn’t called me about the fire, if only to lecture me about not having a fire extinguisher in the kitchen. Sometimes being the sister of a captain in the local fire department was annoying, but out of my three brothers, he pried into my personal life the least, so he had his good points.
“It’s called a Paper Plane, and don’t change the subject. Did Hunter make you go through fire safety training?” Callie grinned.
The fact that Callie said his name without blushing was new. She’d had a crush on him forever, and although we never discussed it, setting up one of my friends with him was well, the ick factor was too strong. Plus, she’d never asked. Our friendship meant more to either of us than hooking up with my admittedly attractive brother, thank God.
“Oh, I’m sure he knows. It’s weirder that he hasn’t called you or shown up at your door yet. But I heard through Paxton that Hunter has seemed distracted as of late.” Mika’s eyebrows rose, and she nodded her head toward Callie. If Callie noticed, she ignored the gesture.
“And when were you talking to Paxton, hm? I thought you two weren’t on speaking terms?” The origin of the cold war between Mika and Paxton had been going on for the last few years. But since he returned from a sabbatical after he lost his EMT partner, things between them seemed to have thawed.
Interesting that both my friends were carrying a torch for firefighters, not that I ever teased them about it. The heart wanted what it wanted. We’d all promised to be there for eachother no matter what our choices were, but especially when things didn’t work out in our love lives.
These women had been with me during and after my first disastrous marriage at nineteen. That had been fifteen years ago, and there was no one better at talking me off the relationship ledge than Mika and Callie.
“Hey, Stass. You okay?”
I took a fortifying sip, okay a long gulp of my drink before answering. “Sure. Why?” But I already knew the answer.
Callie nudged me with her elbow. “We know you. And you’re going to get your first wrinkle if you don’t stop scrunching your face like that. Me thinks something more than an oven fire happened the other day. Now spill it.”
She was right. I had Austin on the brain, and my silent boycott against dating first responders may just be in jeopardy. “There’s a firefighter who works at the same station as Hunter, but on different shifts. His name is Austin. He was the first one in and stayed with me the whole time. He even took my number. Said he knew a guy who would give me a discount on a new oven. But…”
“He’s married?” Callie sounded outraged.
“He hasn’t called or texted even though you kind of hoped he was into you, but now you’re wondering if he was just being nice?” Mika’s kind eyes met mine.
My jaw dropped. “How do you do that?” I asked. Her concern overwhelmed me. I got a little teary, then released a sigh. What was going on? I never cry over missed opportunities with guys.
“It’s a gift.” Mika smirked. “Listen, I know you have this hang-up about wanting guys to prove they’re all in from the start with you, but some men, okay most men, tend not to think that deep right off the bat.”
