Fireman Dad (11 page)

Liz and Ryan returned with the bread pudding and plates, their easy banter with each other carving a hole in Marissa’s heart as they set the dessert on the table and passed out clean forks. Would she ever have that kind of teasing, fun love relationship? She and Kevin hadn’t even had it for a long time after they married, but she could easily imagine it with Jacob. Memories of their easy interaction the first day they met in the parking lot at Your Special Day played in her mind like a movie as she spooned a bite of bread pudding into her mouth. Jacob’s muscles under his shirt as he worked on her SUV’s tire. The kindness in his eyes as he talked about his family and Olivia’s party. The dimples that flashed every time he smiled—at her.

The sticky mixture in her dessert coated Marissa’s tongue with a bittersweet flavor. She looked up as Jacob ruffled Owen’s hair, his dimples in full bloom again as he chuckled at her son’s attempt to do a dog puppet. That was Jacob. Mr. Considerate. Mr. Patient. Mr. Perfect. Marissa pushed her dessert dish away from her, suddenly full.

How could someone so perfect be so perfectly wrong for her?

J
acob would say he couldn’t eat or sleep, but he had, and did. He just didn’t want to—because thoughts of Marissa on a full stomach sent him reaching for the antacids, and every time he laid down, he dreamed of her smile. To say he had it bad, as Liz would put it, was somewhat of an understatement. The more he tried to push Marissa out of his mind and heart, the more she burrowed in.

He rolled the push mower he used for maintaining smaller yards into the trailer, then slammed the minigate shut with a loud clank of metal. The hot noon sun burned his forearms and warmed the top of his baseball cap as he made his way to the truck cab, glad his employee had called in sick. Jacob could use the time alone to work and think.

And pray.

God, this is crazy. Are these thoughts from You? Am I supposed to be feeling this way about Marissa?
It figured the one woman who finally managed to win him over was the one woman who needed to remain offlimits. The image of the chief, dripping wet while Jacob held the telltale water hose in his hand, danced in his
vision and he squeezed his eyes shut. Way off-limits. Jacob had real feelings for Marissa, unlike the jerk that Chief had shipped off to Baton Rouge, but in the chief’s mind, they were all the same. And now knowing how strained Marissa’s relationship was with her father, the chief’s overprotective streak made sense. It was a matter of control. And with Marissa, the chief clearly had very little.

He started the truck and welcomed the blast of air-conditioning that cooled his neck. He leaned against the seat with a sigh, gripping the steering wheel with both hands and staring unseeing at the driveway in front of him. It’d been two days since dinner at his brother’s house, and Jacob kicked himself every night for not telling Marissa what had been on the tip of his tongue before he started playing with the kids.
I wish …
was all he’d gotten out, and probably that was already too much. What did he wish? He wished he could sweep Marissa off her feet, treat her the way the princess inside her deserved to be treated. Wished he could pursue her without fear of offending the chief and losing his job, and therefore letting down his brother. Wished he could have Marissa’s blessing to not only get to know her better, but Owen, too.

Wished she was over her late husband and ready to pursue love again.

Jacob shifted the truck into Drive. His wishes were irrelevant, because reality was reality. As much as Marissa deserved to be a princess, he wasn’t cut out to be her shining knight. If it was meant to be, the path would be easier.

Says who?
his conscience fairly barked at him as Jacob flipped on his blinker to turn left at the stop sign.
What if that wasn’t true? What if some things were worth fighting for?

What if the path was somehow cleared?

Jacob accelerated around the curve, unable to dodge the fact that Your Special Day—and Marissa—sat only about six blocks to his right. A new series of what-ifs played out in his mind. What if he told Marissa exactly what he thought and felt? What if she could somehow talk to her father and get his blessing on their relationship so it wasn’t an issue?

Without further thought, Jacob yanked the wheel to the right, barely remembering the trailer attached to the truck, and gunned it toward Your Special Day. One thing was certain, even if this entire spontaneous plan blew up in his face. He couldn’t spend another night—or meal, for that matter—imagining what could have been.

The truck bounced over the curb into the parking lot of Your Special Day and he double-parked before hurrying out of the cab. He shut the door, then glanced down at the old fire department T-shirt he wore and almost climbed back inside. But he had to do this. Marissa would feel the way she felt about his wardrobe, and this was the time to find out.

Jacob strode purposefully up the walkway, his stomach gnawing with anticipation. Good thing he hadn’t had lunch yet. He neared the door and his mouth went dry.
Come on, man. This is Marissa. You can do this.
But he couldn’t get the imagery out of his mind of Marissa as a princess, waiting in her castle for a prince. He shook his head in disgust. He’d definitely spent too much time listening to Olivia talk about her party, if these were the thoughts that clamored for his attention.

But he couldn’t forget the look in Marissa’s eyes at
the party supply store when he’d made that princess for a day comment. The truth of her desire to be just that lurked beneath the paper-thin guard of her neutral expression.

Jacob straightened his shoulders and placed his hand on the doorknob, determined to slay any dragons Marissa needed—regardless of the cost.

“Festival food supplies, check,” Marissa muttered from her spot on the floor in her office, nestled between a giant box of red, white and blue paper plates, cups and napkins, and a slightly smaller box of yet-to-be-inflated pink and silver balloons. She made a notation on her legal pad. “Olivia’s party balloons, check.”

She’d given up on not talking to herself hours ago, when Liz had to leave at noon to take Olivia to an appointment. On her way out, Liz had casually mentioned Ryan was at a job interview, but Marissa could tell from the light in her eyes she hoped it would bring good news. Marissa couldn’t imagine losing her entire career and living off savings. It had to be terrifying, especially with a child to support. She knew that feeling. Hopefully this festival would help not only the Greenes, but the other families affected as well.

The shop door opened and Marissa jumped, clutching her legal pad to her chest. Jacob strolled inside, and she did a double take at his rumpled appearance as she tried to stand. Her ankle rolled and she grappled for the side of the nearest box to catch herself, just as Jacob cleared the space between them and steadied her with a firm hand on her arm.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to make such a dramatic entrance.” Jacob smiled down at her, the scent of sweat, grass and spicy aftershave filling her senses. Marissa
drew a shaky breath at their proximity. His hand remained on her arm even now that she stood steadily on both feet, and the contact sent sparks all the way up to her shoulder.

She looked away from his dimples and tried to smile back. “No harm done. I got up too fast. Been sitting here awhile.”

Jacob took a step back, his fingers skimming the length of her arm before releasing her. She shivered, then tucked her hair behind her ears in an effort to hide her reaction.

Jacob glanced around the brightly lit room, the hum of the fluorescent lights nearly deafening in the charged silence. “Where’s Liz?”

“Appointment for Olivia. She mentioned Ryan had an interview today.” Marissa felt safe enough to look directly at Jacob now that several feet remained between them. She gestured toward the boxes she’d been inventorying. “She was supposed to help me unpack and organize, hence the chaos.”

“Looks like you have it under control.” Jacob squatted down to view the contents of the boxes, and Marissa slowly sank back to her original sitting position. “Olivia will love those balloons.”

“Will you love blowing them up?” Marissa laughed at Jacob’s exaggerated grimace. “I’m kidding. I’ll get a helium tank so they’ll float.” She studied him studying the boxes, and her smile faded. He hadn’t come here to talk about balloons. Marissa licked her lips, and hesitated before asking the question burning the back of her throat. “So, did you need something?”

Jacob looked up in surprise, as if he’d just realized he’d been staring aimlessly, and shrugged. “I thought I’d check on the status of the party plans, see if you
needed anything else last minute.” He rocked forward into a kneeling position, as if he planned on staying a little while.

“I think we’re almost ready. But thanks. You’ve done a lot.”

“Actually …” Jacob hesitated. “There is something else.”

Marissa raised her eyebrows, and her heart began to pound. She took a deep breath. “Something about Olivia’s party? Or the festival?”

“Something about you.” His voice lowered and he reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “About us.”

Marissa’s thudding heart relocated to her throat. She opened her mouth but couldn’t speak. Could barely breathe.

Jacob’s hand trailed from her ear to her chin before his hands landed back in his lap. “Here’s the thing. I can’t get you out of my head. And trust me, I’ve tried.”

She shook her head, panic rising in her stomach. “Jacob, don’t—”

“It’s too late.” Jacob stood and pulled her up beside him before she could protest. He placed a gentle finger against her lips. “Don’t tell me you don’t feel this, too. Want this, too.”

Marissa lowered her head and closed her eyes, relishing his warmth and nearness. She wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around his broad shoulders and return the embrace he’d cautiously began. But a relationship between them was a dead-end road. Surely he saw that.

“Don’t you feel it?” His voice dropped to a husky whisper and his breath tickled her hair. For a moment, she forgot the myriad reasons why it wouldn’t work
between them and didn’t resist as he tugged her closer, one hand on her waist, the other now sliding behind her neck into her hair. Her heart jump-started in her chest. He was going to kiss her. When was her last kiss? She couldn’t even remember. It’d been a long time. Much too long.

Jacob drew nearer, his lips now inches from hers. Her fingers curled into the fabric of his T-shirt, almost as if they had a will of their own. She opened her eyes—and stared directly at the logo on his shirt.

The Orchid Hill Fire Department logo.

Marissa’s hands dropped to her sides as if she’d been burned and she took a big step backward. Hurt and confusion etched Jacob’s face as he slowly folded his now empty arms across his chest. The motion concealed the logo, but she’d seen it long enough to be reminded of the heartache that would inevitably come if she’d allowed herself to take things further.

“I can’t—I’m not … this isn’t—” Her flustered thoughts couldn’t escape and she gestured helplessly between the two of them. “We just can’t—”

“I’m sorry. I’m rushing you.” Jacob raked his hands through his hair and began to pace the floor. “I know you’re still grieving your husband, and here I am trying to—Man, I’m a jerk. I only wanted you to know how I felt.” He stopped and stared at her, his eyes reflecting the same longing she felt to her very core. “I crossed a line.”

“No, you didn’t.” The words fled her lips and she almost clamped a hand over her mouth to stop the denial. He had crossed a line. But not in the way he thought. “I’m not grieving Kevin. Not like you think.”

Jacob’s head tilted. “But the breakdown you had at church—I thought you missed him.”

Her words echoed back at her as loudly as they’d seemed to in the church lobby last Sunday.
I haven’t been to church since Kevin died. It was harder than I thought.
No wonder he’d gotten that impression. “You don’t understand.”

“No, I don’t.” Jacob took a step toward her, and then stopped as if remembering her rejection anew. “I came here because I thought maybe you could talk to your father. Explain things to him, see if he could stand the idea of us together.” Sadness darkened his blue eyes into a melancholy navy. “But you’re not ready.”

“Jacob.” She wanted to explain, but what would it matter? Even if the chief gave his blessing, which was somewhat of a long shot considering their shaky relationship, she couldn’t do it. Not as long as that logo remained a part of Jacob’s daily wardrobe.

He waited for her to continue, but when she didn’t, he nodded slowly. “I’ll get out of your way.” He turned, his back a rigid line as he slipped outside. The chirping bell on the door proved a stark contrast to the mood that lingered in his absence.

Marissa sank to the floor, her palms still sweaty and her heart still racing from Jacob’s honesty. She wanted that kiss. Wanted what he wanted—a relationship. Wanted what they both felt and couldn’t deny any longer. But could she risk everything again? How could she trust that anything would be different this time? She hadn’t been able to trust Kevin to make wise decisions at work. She couldn’t trust her father to value his daughter and family above his job. And she couldn’t trust God to keep any of the men in her life safe.

Marissa leaned back against the supply box, clamped both hands over her face and sobbed.

“W
hat do you do when you get rejected by a woman?” Jacob pushed his wet mop across the bay floor toward Steve and watched the shiny trail form against the concrete. “I figure you’ve had more practice with it.” He grinned.

“Very funny.” Steve dodged the mop’s soaking strings and sidled past the fire truck to the bucket, where he’d been sponging a particularly stubborn grease stain on the floor. Then he smirked back. “Let’s ask Captain.”

“Right.” Jacob snorted. “So, if you ask a woman out and she turns you down, do you take the hint and move on? Or keep pursuing her?”

“Is this a trick question? Some ex-girlfriend of mine hiding in the truck or something?” Steve’s eyes narrowed as he cast a cautious glance around the bay, his newly filled sponge dripping on his work pants as he crouched beside the stain.

“No, I’m serious.” Jacob stopped mopping and leaned forward, resting part of his weight against the handle. “I’m really asking.”

“Man, you must have it pretty bad to ask me for advice.”
Steve’s eyebrows shot up and his scrubbing arm stilled.

“Exactly.” Steve had no idea. Jacob had never really had reason to ask anyone’s opinion before. He didn’t date much, but in the past when he did, he’d always been the one to break it off with the woman, not the other way around. And he couldn’t talk to Ryan about it, or Liz would be all over him—Jacob knew better than to think his brother could ever keep a secret from his wife. That was one complication he didn’t need, especially after dinner the other night at their house with Liz’s not-so-subtle matchmaking attempts.

Attempts that worked—at least on his side.

Steve’s head tilted to one side. “Who’s the chick?”

Jacob shook his head. “Not important.” That was the last thing he could admit to anyone at work.

“Whatever.” Steve shrugged. “I guess it depends on the situation. If I barely know her and she says no, I forget it. Everyone strikes out sometimes. But if it’s a friend or someone I’m trying to get to know better, then I might keep at it for a while until I’m sure she’s not playing hard to get.”

That didn’t help. Marissa wasn’t either scenario—or actually, she was sort of both. He hesitated. “What if it’s neither circumstance?”

Steve resumed scrubbing. “Then I’d say bag it and keep shopping.”

Jacob frowned. He was a lot of things, but he wasn’t a quitter. At this point, he didn’t think he could give up on Marissa even if he wanted to. His heart spoke even louder than his smarting pride from her rejection yesterday. The problem was what to do about it. He sighed. “Thanks.”

“I didn’t help much, huh?”

“Well, I wouldn’t recommend starting your own talk show.”

Steve laughed. “Hey, live and learn, man. It’s the only real advice out there. Do what you feel is best. If I said something you didn’t want to hear, then maybe that’s not the right answer for you.”

“Are you telling me to follow my heart?”

“If I said something that mushy, I’d definitely have my own show.” Steve tossed his sponge back in the bucket and wiped his hands on his pants. “But it’s good advice, regardless.”

Jacob nodded slowly. “Maybe so.” The problem was determining exactly what his heart was saying and what God was saying—and if there was a difference. Then again, it might not matter. If Marissa had wanted to become something more, had wanted to kiss him, had wanted to open that door into a real relationship, then she wouldn’t have turned him down yesterday. But she had looked just as disappointed as he felt when he left. Something was holding her back from him. Was it Owen? Was she still upset about Jacob’s unintentional role in her son’s life? Maybe he should back off and give her space—obviously the flowers had served as more of a complication than an apology.

But what if she was playing hard to get, as Steve suggested? As soon as the thought entered his mind, Jacob shoved it back out. There was no way. Marissa wasn’t into games—she was a working, single mother. Her entire life was responsibility and obligation.

Which made her deserve to be pursued that much more.

His coworker’s voice broke into Jacob’s internal dilemma as Steve headed for the station door. “Whoever
she is, hope it works out.” He winked as he pulled on the knob. “And I hope she can cook.”

Marissa stuck the final candle in Olivia’s shimmery pink birthday cake as high-pitched, delighted shrieks erupted from the living room, where a dozen first graders battled it out with a princess piñata. Her head pounded slightly at the temples, but so far, the party was a success. Liz didn’t look stressed in the least, and that fact alone was what kept Marissa moving quietly behind the scenes, taking pictures, picking up trash, announcing games that Liz supervised and refilling punch cups.

Jacob had slipped in a few minutes after the guests arrived, given Olivia a hug and deposited a ridiculously large gift on the hearth before disappearing into the kitchen, where Ryan and the rest of Olivia’s extended family congregated, safe from the chaos of seven-year-old, sugar-filled partiers. Thankfully he hadn’t sought Marissa out—but was he avoiding her? She wasn’t sure which would be worse.

The telltale splatter of candy dropping to Liz’s hardwood floor and resounding cheers announced the game was over. Marissa quickly ignited the lighter in her hand and held it over one of the seven purple, glittery candles. The cake was next on the agenda, followed by gifts. Then goody bags would be passed out and hopefully the parents would be on time picking up their kids so Marissa could gain a head start helping Liz clean up.

“That looks nice.” Jacob’s warm voice behind Marissa burned more intensely than the flames on the cake. She looked up as he rounded the kitchen table to stand beside her, more attractive than ever in jeans and a baby-blue polo shirt that made his eyes nearly electric.

“Thanks.” She kept her voice level and her attention
on the next candle, despite the spark igniting in her stomach. “But it’s not like I made it.” Their first conversation since the near-kiss at Your Special Day, and they were going to discuss cake decorations? She tightened her suddenly sweaty grip on the lighter and moved to the next candle. Not that a confrontation would be any easier on her shot nerves.

“Well, hey, you ordered it.” Jacob leaned casually against the back of one of the dining room chairs and draped one arm across the top.

“That’s like telling someone she’s a good cook for sliding a frozen pan of lasagna in the oven.” She laughed, but it sounded forced and strange to her own ears. Could he tell she was thinking about their almost kiss? She eased a few steps closer to reach the last candle, her hand trembling.
Stop it. Stop it!

“Then chalk it up to good taste.” He straightened, his eyes lingering on hers before dropping to her lips and back up.

Her stomach flip-flopped and she opened her mouth twice before anything could come out. “Time for cake!” she hollered toward the living room, her gaze never leaving Jacob’s. Understanding and something akin to determination flickered in his eyes, and he slowly eased away from the table.

Jacob’s light touch on the small of her back as he passed behind her on his way into the kitchen almost made Marissa drop the lighter. She drew a shuddering breath and pasted on a smile as the swinging doors opened and Olivia and her friends barreled through.

The next fifteen minutes were filled with singing, cake specifications (“I want a corner piece,” “No icing please,” “Her piece is bigger than mine!”) and generous scoops of ice cream. Marissa finally snagged a piece of
cake for herself and leaned against the far wall of the living room as Olivia tore into her pile of presents on the fireplace hearth.

Jacob came to stand beside her, a mug of coffee in his hands she’d brewed earlier for the adults. “You’ve done a really great job. And don’t tell me you only ordered everything.”

Marissa smiled around her forkful of cake. “Busted. I’ll just say thank you.”

“I’m serious.” Jacob shifted his weight so his upper body angled toward her, his steaming mug clenched between both hands. “I know this was a lot of work, and stressful being last minute, but it’s been amazing.” He hesitated. “You’re pretty amazing.”

Marissa’s breath hitched and she kept her eyes trained on Olivia as she excitedly pulled a new Barbie doll out of a pile of crinkled wrapping paper. “Just doing my job.” She wished she could dive into the compliment and wrap it around herself like a comforting quilt, burrow beneath its warmth and wear it as a reminder that Jacob
saw
her. He’d always seen her, brought out the pieces of her that were generally skipped over due to time restraints or motherly obligation. Instead, she opened her eyes and steeled her shoulders before forking another bite of cake.

“Is this how it’s going to be?”

Marissa turned in surprise and met Jacob’s saddened expression as he leaned toward her, their faces close. Her heart stuttered and she looked away, then back. “I—I don’t know what to say.” She knew what she wanted to say. But couldn’t. Unfortunately nothing was any different today than it was in her office yesterday. Or the week before that. Tears burned the back of her eyelids but she refused to swipe at them and give herself away.
She focused on Liz’s happy smile instead as she helped her daughter stack toys on the hearth and reach for another present.

“It’s all right. You don’t have to say anything at all.” Jacob took a sip as he eased away from her to watch Olivia open his gift. A slow smile tilted the corners of his mouth. “But know I’m not giving up.”

The tears blurring Marissa’s vision dissipated as Jacob’s promise melted her defenses, just as quickly as the flames had melted the candles on the birthday cake. Warmth stirred in her middle and rose to her chest. Even after her rejection of his kiss yesterday, even though he assumed she was still grieving her late husband, he wasn’t going to stop caring. Stop giving. Stop trying.

And she didn’t want him to.

When was the last time anyone had ever deemed her worthy of waiting for? When had anyone cared that much? She’d known Jacob a matter of weeks and yet in one sentence he’d packed more honesty and feeling than years of commitment could hold.

Marissa reached forward and set her cake plate on the end table by the couch. Her empty hands trembled with the memory of being curled into Jacob’s shirt against his chest just a day before, tucked in close to his heart. Could she put aside her fears? If he found her worth waiting for, worth pursuing, wasn’t he worth risking? Her emotions and logic battled yes and no, and with a dry mouth, she turned to face Jacob, her heart pounding in her throat so loudly she was sure he’d hear it.

She drew a steadying breath, unsure if she’d regret the words she had to say but certain she had to get them out regardless. She rested her hand on his arm, and he looked down at her with a start, a mixture of hope and curiosity in his silvery blue eyes. The chatter of the kids
exclaiming over Olivia’s gifts faded to the background as they stared at each other. “Jacob, I—”

Three shrill beeps pierced the air, emanating from the pager on Jacob’s belt. He shoved his coffee mug in her hands and tugged the pager free from his waist, his face tightening as he read the message scrolling across the screen. “Four-alarm fire downtown. I’ve got to go.”

Marissa’s mouth snapped closed as Jacob rushed to plant a kiss on Olivia’s head and whispered a quick goodbye to Liz and Ryan. He swiped his keys off the bar stool counter behind Marissa, pain pinching his eyebrows into a jagged line. “We’ll talk later?”

Desperation laced his words, and Marissa nodded numbly even though they both knew she wouldn’t. The words that had just seconds ago filled her heart to overflowing now lay gasping for breath at the bottom of a dry well, drained of feeling the instant that pager shrieked. The moment had passed.

“Be careful.” Marissa bit her tongue, but it was too late. Her warning hovered between them like a dense fog, carrying the same desperation as Jacob’s plea to talk later.

“Always.” He touched her chin briefly, his gaze heavy and full of something she didn’t quite understand, and then he was gone.

Equal measures of pain and relief filled Marissa’s chest as the front door clicked shut behind Jacob. She stared down into his nearly empty mug of coffee, the dark liquid barely covering the bottom of the cup. That’d been close, even closer than the near-kiss from yesterday. Jacob had somehow burrowed under her defenses, and her carefully constructed wall was crumbling. If she’d told him she wasn’t grieving Kevin, if she’d spoken the words he’d wanted to hear and convinced him she
felt ready for a relationship, ready to move on—with him—she’d feel even worse than she did now.

Wouldn’t she?

Because if she and Jacob pursued whatever it was between them, this would be her life—again. Empty dining room chairs where Dad was supposed to sit at dinnertime. Missed recitals and birthday parties and rushing off from New Year’s celebrations because some idiot across town didn’t use fireworks responsibly. Asking for Da-Da at bedtime but getting the same tired answer over and over. She couldn’t put herself and Owen through that another time.

Even if the decision not to hurt almost as badly.

“You okay?” Liz mouthed the words from the hearth as she helped Olivia open her last present, her eyes darting from Marissa to the front door and back again.

Marissa nodded, forcing a smile she didn’t feel, as Jacob’s truck started outside. The tires squealed as he floored it down the driveway and to the street, burning rubber toward a fire.

And away from her.