Fireman Dad. Betsy St. Amant

rush it, his conscience whispered a warning, and he pulled free before his fingers refused to obey. But he couldn’t pass up the chance to ask Marissa out. Who knew when he’d get another one? He hesitated, then braced one arm against the door to keep it open. “Would you like to do this again sometime?”

      “Shop and eat junk food?” A teasing spark lit her eyes, and he thought for the hundredth time how beautiful she was.

      “If you want.” Jacob smiled back. “But I was thinking about something a little more official.” He swallowed. If he’d read her signals wrong and she said no, then he had just officially made their working relationship awkward. But he had to know.

      Surprise lit Marissa’s deep green eyes, and he could almost read the conflicting emotions darting across her expression. Interest. Doubt. Regret. Which would win? He waited, a knot slowly forming in his stomach.

      “That would be … nice.”

      Jacob let out his breath, unable to decipher who was more surprised by her answer—him or her. But regardless, he’d take it.

      “Great.” He lowered his arm as she inserted the key into the wheel, the ignition dinging. “We’ll talk about that soon.” Very soon.

      “I’d like that.” They smiled, then Marissa broke the connection as she pulled on her seat belt. “If I haven’t said so yet, this is a great thing you’re doing for the families of the laid off firemen. They’re going to appreciate it a lot.”

      “It’s nothing much. My brother deserves a break after the layoffs. I only wish I could do more.” He could never do enough to ease the guilt he felt, but he’d go down trying.

      “Wait—the fire department layoff?” Marissa tilted her head to one side in surprise.

      Jacob blinked. “I didn’t mention that before now? Ryan was one of the firemen let go. That’s why I’m helping out with Olivia’s party.”

      “No, you never mentioned the specifics, just that he was suddenly unemployed. Wow, I’m sorry to hear that.” Admiration flickered in Marissa’s gaze. “But I’m sure your helping with the fundraiser will encourage your brother. Family support is so important.”

      “I hope so. None of the guys deserved this.” Jacob’s stomach tightened. It had been like losing family after the first round of cuts. The worst part was that rumor had it the city council wasn’t done yet. But no need to stir up the bitterness when tonight had gone so well. Come to think of it, had he even mentioned he was a fireman? They’d talked about the party, the fundraiser and Owen and Olivia most of the night.

      Marissa started the engine with a roar, interrupting his thoughts. “I wish everyone was as supportive of the fundraiser as you are—like my dad, for instance.” She raised her voice above the rumble.

      He knew she needed to leave, but now he was confused. Why would her father not care about the affected firemen and their families? How could any civilian not care? Ever since the layoffs, the local newspapers had been flooded with letters to the editor about their concerns. He couldn’t imagine someone feeling the opposite. “What do you mean, your dad?”

      She gripped the steering wheel with both hands. “Fire Chief Brady.”

      Jacob’s heart slammed against his rib cage with a catastrophic jolt.

      “He says it’s a conflict of interest for me to be involved, but I believe it’s the right thing to do. Not only for my business, but as a person. I just couldn’t turn down the church when they asked.” She kept talking but her words rushed straight over Jacob’s head and into the stifling air of the garage as he desperately tried to comprehend this new truth. Chief Brady. His boss. Marissa’s father. Marissa Brady Hawthorne.

      “Oh, no, it’s nine o’clock now. I’ll see you Monday afternoon.” Marissa held up her hand in a quick wave. “Good night.”

      “Good night.” The words croaked from Jacob’s tight throat as the SUV door slammed shut between them.

      Then she was gone.