Mick rolled the sleeves of the flannel shirt he wore open over a T-shirt. What was it to him that she’d never married?
“And who are these sleeping beauties?”
“Thought they were bears.”
As the corner of her pillowy-looking lips lifted, Mick swallowed, his mouth dry. Why did everything about this woman keep reminding him of pillows? And why was he acting like a sex-starved teenager? He was thirty-seven years old. He barely remembered histwenties, and he hadn’t been hungry for even the diddle dash that the hookup apps promised since the fire. And the divorce.
“Those are my daughters,” she said. “They’re six. And identical twins if you haven’t guessed.”
“They’reyours?” He took in the matching sizes, complexions and even short hair styles that would have made him do a double take earlier if he hadn’t been so riveted on their mother. “You don’t look—”
“I know. I don’t look old enough to be their mother. I am. I’m twenty-five.”
Mick recognized a sensitive topic when he heard one. He gestured to the girls. “They look exhausted.”
“We’ve been in here a while. The guys told me they expected you to arrive—” she paused to glance down at her watch “—ninety minutes ago.”
“I can’t believe they let you stay all this time.”
“I told them I wasn’t leaving unless they carried me out. Most of them have known me long enough to believe what I say.”
Even acquainted with her for less than ten minutes, Mick would have put money on any announcement Rachel Hoffman made as well. That didn’t mean he would have let her set up camp on the fire chief’s couch for two hours no matter how alluring she was. Or how long it had been since he’d touched feminine skin or wound his fingers in long, satiny hair.
He shot a look through the blurry glass and into the hall. Had his crewinvitedHoffman’s overly hot sister to show up as a firehouse prank on the new guy? If so, they’d soon learn that paybacks were hell when coming from the boss.
“That’s right. You probably grew up around the old Station 1. I bet you recognize all the furniture in this office.” He managed not to ask her if she’d napped on any of it before.
Her eyes softened as she scanned the room, from the odd lamp to the chair and the desk. Then her gaze snapped back to his, icicles burying all that tenderness.
“I’m not here for a walk down memory lane,ChiefPrentiss. But I do want to talk about recent developments here.”
He was still digesting the way she’d said his title—like a profanity—when the second part registered. Her dadandher brother. If seeing Rachel in his office had made him forget about the reports he’d read in the past few days, he could have at least remembered the information Peter had offered not twenty minutes before.
“Please accept my condolences about your father. I’m sorry about your brother’s…uh…situation as well.”
Though he didn’t know what she expected him to do about Riley Hoffman’s job loss, he still had a soft spot for the loved ones of alcoholics. He’d taken more than his share of turns on the slip-and-slide of his dad’s addiction, so he could relate.
“Thanks, but I don’t need you to feel sorry for me, either.”
Mick laced his fingers, resting his wrists on the edge of his desk. So much for ten minutes. The woman probably wouldn’t leave before her daughters’ bedtime.
“Look, Miss Hoffman, I can see that this change must be difficult for you. Your family’s been a part of the MIFD for decades. But I had no part in past personnel decisions. In fact, I was hiredbecauseI’m an outsider since—” He stopped himself, considered and began again. “Since investigations are ongoing.”
“You’ve got that part right. Youarean outsider. They’re not welcome here.”
“I’d sensed that.”
She rested her hands flat on his desk. “You should also prepare yourself for things not being what they seem.”
He knew better than to respond to that, but he couldn’t stop the words from coming. “It can be tempting to try to shield a loved one who’s hurting, but—”
“You can stop your careful stepping around it because I’mnotenabling my brother or dismissing his addiction.”
She stared at him for so long that he shifted in his chair, its cushion as unforgiving as he’d predicted. “Then I’m not sure what we have to talk about here.”
Rachel settled back in her seat and crossed both her arms and legs this time.
“You must have read the history on my family before you agreed to come here. I’ve done some research on you, too. Three-alarm fire last September. Three casualties. Two of them members of your crew.”
