crowd than she could have handled, and her old man was the big boss in the fire department, for God’s sake.
Which hadn’t stopped Danny from keeping his eye on her over the years. Noticing her sexy little behind as she strolled by. Checking out her breasts when she’d gone from twiggy to nicely rounded.
Yeah, he’d kept an eye on her. And his hands off.
That was still a good idea.
“So,” Greg said as he turned off the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. “What’s it like to kiss a hamster?”
Jay Tolliver chose that exact moment to come into the shower room. “Looked to me like ol’ hot lips here was enjoying himself. Whaddaya think?”
Mike Gables sauntered in, buck-naked like the rest of them. “The singles scene must really be getting tough if a hamster is the best our buddy can do. Maybe we oughta fix him up with Emma Jean downstairs. At least she could read his palm while he worked on his technique.”
Danny groaned and shut off the shower. Emma Jean Witkowsky was the department’s dispatcher and self-appointed gypsy fortune-teller, whose predictions more times than not were a hundred and eighty degrees wrong. Dating her was not an option he wanted to consider.
And he sure as hell didn’t want to think about the next week or so until his buddies forgot all about the hamster incident. His next few shifts were going to be the pits.
His days off weren’t going to be too swift, either, knowing Stephanie was living down the block again. And was pregnant with some other guy’s baby.
When he returned to his quarters on the third floor of the main fire station, he discovered someone had cut out a big cardboard star and propped it on his bed. Across it they’d written #1 Rodent Kisser.
He groaned again. This was going to be a very long shift.
THAT EVENING, AFTER HOURS of scrubbing soot-stained walls, Stephanie placed a bubbling dish of vegetable lasagna on the table in front of her father. As a trade-off for her room and board, she was keeping house for her dad. Which had the added benefit of preventing his lady friend, Councilwoman Evie Anderson—a widow and Paseo del Real’s worst cook—from bringing him meals. Tonight, though, Stephanie was so tired she would personally be willing to give Evie’s culinary efforts a try.
“I understand you had some excitement at the preschool today.”
Her hands stilled on the salad bowl she was about to deliver to the table. Had the word gotten back to him about the Great Hamster Rescue?
“We had a small fire,” she said casually. “Nothing too dramatic.”
“Two engines and a rescue unit rolled on the call.”
She set the salad down and took her seat across from her father. “Good response time, too. You can be pleased about that.”
He nodded and dished some lasagna onto her plate then served himself. At age sixty-three, he was still as fit as he had been at thirty, Stephanie suspected, although his hair was gray now and he wore it in a short butch cut.
“Evidently Alice was happy,” he commented.
Stephanie’s brows shot up. “She called?” When? They’d both been scrubbing—
“Yep. Seems the kids were so impressed with my firefighters they want to give one of them an award. Danny Sullivan, as a matter of fact.”
Fortunately Stephanie hadn’t taken a bite of food yet because she would have choked. She forced a smile. “Really? How nice.”
“That’s right.” He forked some lasagna into his mouth. “Seems he saved Arnold’s life. Pretty courageous of him, I’d say.”
She nodded, thinking it was time for her to get an apartment of her own—before her father threw her out for putting one of his men at risk.
“I’ve always liked Danny, even when he was a little wild as a kid. You know, he’s our top man on the department’s triathlon team.”
“I guess I hadn’t heard that.” Although she did know fire departments across the country were always coming up with one athletic contest or another in order to encourage physical fitness.
“Yep. Without Danny, Paseo wouldn’t have a chance of winning the state finals this spring.”
“Interesting.” All the more reason her father was about to hand her her head on a platter for making Danny rescue a hamster.
Harlan Gray glanced up from his meal and gave her a fatherly smile. “Why don’t we do something nice for him, like invite him over for dinner some night?”
She gaped at her father as he resumed eating his meal with obvious relish. That was it? She wasn’t going to get the lecture on fire prevention? Safety first? The importance of human life, which included his men?
A seriously uncomfortable feeling raised the hackles on the back of her neck. Her father couldn’t be doing a little matchmaking, could he? In cahoots with her friend Alice? She knew her father was distressed about her not being married. But she was in no condition to be matched with anyone.
Besides, what man in his right mind would be interested in a woman whose silhouette would soon resemble a blimp?
When she finally took a bite of dinner, the taste was bitter, much like the knowledge that if Danny hadn’t been interested in her years ago, he certainly wouldn’t be now.
Chapter Two
“You shouldn’t be doing that.” Danny wheeled his racing bike up behind Stephanie’s ancient Honda, which was parked in her driveway, the trunk open. He’d been about to go out for a training run on his day off when he’d spotted Stephanie hauling heavy sacks of groceries into the house.
She straightened with a sack in her arms. “Doing what?”
“Lifting heavy stuff. Pregnant women aren’t supposed to do that.”
“So now you’re an expert on pregnant women?”
“Evidently I know more than you do.”
“Being pregnant is not a physical disability. I’m fine.”
More than fine. She had the usual fire in her eyes, golden embers and hot sparks shooting in his direction. She’d been an imp as a youngster. As a woman, she was—
On a sudden surge of irritation, he unsnapped his bike helmet, rolled his bike out of sight behind some bushes near the back door, then took the sack from her arms. “You go sit somewhere. I’ll bring in the groceries.”
“Oh, for pity sake! I’m not disabled.”
“Sit,” he ordered and marched inside, as familiar with the Gray’s house as he was with his own. Not much had changed since he’d been here as an adolescent—Harlan Gray as close to a father as he’d had in those days, Mrs. Gray like a doting aunt. And Stephanie a pesky little sister.
Naturally Stephanie hadn’t listened to him any more today than she had when she’d been younger. Instead she’d picked up another bag of groceries and followed him inside. She gave a little toss of her hair that set the waves bouncing and put the groceries on the counter. “There are two more bags in the car,” she said with false sweetness. “If you really think poor little me can’t handle it.”
He glowered at her. “I’ll get ’em.”
“Oh, my, such a big, brave man,” she crooned.
On the way past her, he almost gave her a friendly little swat on her backside as he might have when she was a kid. But she wasn’t a kid anymore. She was a woman. A pregnant woman wearing a bright red oversize T-shirt with a yellow target in the middle. Suddenly he didn’t know what to do with his hands except stick them into his pockets. Except his bicycle shorts didn’t have pockets.