Tall, Strong & Cool Under Fire. Marie Ferrarella

a flourish. “To make you smile.”

      “Oh.” It was a simple bouquet of daisies, but it left her flustered and at a loss for words. Her mouth curved slightly without her even realizing it as she accepted the bouquet and looked down at the clustered, bouncy petals. Daisies, to pick apart one by one, murmuring “he loves me, he loves me not.” “I see.”

      “It works!” CeCe announced with enthusiasm, grinning broadly. Then the grin began to fade away as she looked skeptically at the broom her grandmother was holding. She lowered her voice in a hushed whisper, inclining her head toward Bryce. “Does that mean we have evil spirits to sweep away?”

      He saw the beginning of fear in her eyes. He’d meant to charm the mother, not frighten the daughter.

      “They’re all gone already,” he told her solemnly. “It’s the fire department’s job to send any evil spirits packing a whole month before anyone new moves in. This—” he tapped the handle with his finger “—is just to remind them to stay away. Forever.”

      “Oh.” Relieved, CeCe released a sigh that seemed twice as large as she was.

      “Hey, I almost forgot. This is for you.” With a gesture every bit as grand as the flourish he’d used to present the flowers to Lisa, he awarded the coloring book he had tucked under his arm to CeCe. “It’s all about different fire trucks.” He winked at her. “Something the department keeps around for Bedford’s future taxpayers.”

      She hugged the thin booklet to her, pleased to be remembered. “Mommy, where are my crayons?”

      “We’ll find them after dinner.” Otherwise, Lisa knew that there would be no prying CeCe away from the coloring book until she was finished.

      It suddenly occurred to Bryce that he hadn’t brought anything to give Lisa’s mother. Admittedly, the woman had not been on his mind when he was planning his strategy. He turned to her now a tad sheepishly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t bring anything for you.”

      “Oh, but you did, Bryce,” Cecilia replied with a soft smile he could only wish would grace her daughter’s lips. The smile filtered into her eyes, putting him completely at ease. “You brought me your company. Now, how do you feel about pierogi?”

      Unfamiliar with the word, he could only shake his head. “I’m afraid I don’t have any feelings about it one way or another.”

      “You will,” Cecilia promised, patting his arm. “In time.” She gestured toward what looked to be the dining area. “Now, you and Lisa go sit and wait. CeCe and I will bring the food. You are in for a treat.” Cecilia winked, then taking the bag with the loaf of bread from her daughter, she commandeered her granddaughter’s attention. With a nod of her head, she led the way into the kitchen. Leaving Bryce and Lisa alone.

      Awkwardness descended immediately, draping itself heavily on her shoulders. Lisa wished her mother had let her be the one to bring in the meal, but she knew better. This whole scene couldn’t have been playing itself out any better than if her mother had written it all out with specific stage directions.

      Taking a deep breath, Lisa told herself she’d get through this. Abruptly she turned toward Bryce. “My mother worked at an embassy overseas when she was younger, she never completely got over ordering people around.”

      “I think she’s great,” Bryce said. Cecilia reminded him a little of Riley’s mother, a woman who had been closer to him in his adolescent years than his own mother had been.

      Lisa nodded, acknowledging the compliment. “Most people do,” she remarked. “You really don’t have to stay, you know.”

      He studied her face, trying to sort out her signals and his own wishful thinking. “Is that your polite way of saying get lost?”

      She caught her tongue between her teeth, fighting the urge to tell him just that. She didn’t need a bone-meltingly good-looking man putting ideas into her mother’s head just by his very presence. Her mother was incorrigible enough as it was, ceaselessly promoting the idea that she should get back out there amid the sharks and swim until she found someone special to swim through life with.

      As if that was ever going to happen.

      To find someone she had to be looking. And she wasn’t. Having her heart kicked in once was more than enough to teach her the pitfalls of wearing her heart on her sleeve. Of loving one man to distraction and placing all her faith, all her hopes and dreams into his careless hands.

      She had loved Kyle, but he had loved his freedom even more. Watching him walk away, walk away from her and the promise of the family that was to be, was something she knew would remain with her for the rest of her life. She wasn’t about to put herself into the position of experiencing that again even in the remotest sense.

      Still, since Bryce had been exceptionally kind to her daughter and mother, it wouldn’t kill her to be nice, she reasoned. Besides, if she sent him away now, before dinner, she knew her mother would never let her hear the end of it.

      So Lisa resigned herself to suffering through the next hour or so. “If I wanted you to get lost,” she informed him tersely, “I would say so.”

      “Glad to hear it.” He waited until she walked into the dining room, then followed behind her. “So, what’s this pier—pier—” Fumbling for the word he hadn’t quite grasped, he looked at her for help. Amusement curved her mouth. He had a feeling she liked him at a disadvantage. “Help me out, here.”

      “Pierogi. It’s the Polish answer to ravioli,” she elaborated.

      He pulled out a chair for her. “You’re Polish?”

      “Yes, anything wrong with that?” She sat down and allowed him to push the chair in for her. The next moment, she felt her pulse scrambling as he lowered his face next to hers. She could have sworn she felt his breath along her cheek.

      “Not a thing.” He saw the pulse in her throat jump as her jaw tightened. Bryce smiled to himself as he straightened again. Nice to know a graceful body like hers wasn’t entirely sculpted out of ice. “It’s just that Billings doesn’t sound very Polish.”

      Her eyes were cold as he rounded the table to sit down.

      “Billings was my married name.” She’d toyed with changing it back to her maiden name, but there was CeCe to think of. The little girl was incredibly bright, but she was still a four-year-old with a four-year-old’s emotions. Having a different name than her mother might be too confusing for her at this point.

      “Was,” he echoed. So his guess had been right. But he pushed the envelope a tiny bit further. “As in—I’m not stepping on anyone’s toes by being here?”

      His eyes were just a little too green, a little too warm for her. “Would you care?” Lisa asked.

      He had his principles and that included never cutting in on another man’s territory once it was staked out. “Very much so.”

      Honor was not the first word she thought of when Lisa thought of men in general. She’d learned the hard way that men like her father didn’t exist anymore. They were far too practical. “Why? Because it would get you into a confrontational situation?”

      She was the one who was looking for a confrontational situation, he thought. “Because I socialize with married women in a different way than I socialize with unmarried women,” he told her amiably. And then he leaned forward and asked, “Do you find it gives you a backache?”

      Her brows narrowed. She had no idea what he was talking about. “What does?”

      Bryce nodded toward her shoulders. “That huge chip you’re carrying around on your shoulder. I’d imagine it might make you stoop a lot less if you weren’t lugging it around into every conversation.”

      He’d never seen blue lightning flash before. He did now, in her eyes as she drew herself up, a pugnacious tilt to her head. “I don’t have a chip on my shoulder. I’m just careful. And