Chapter 16
GEORGIA
The project was going well, although it had only been a short time.
Since the fundraiser meeting the day before, Mayor Mary had connected with two local photographers and a graphic designer, all interested in working on the calendar.
They’d donate their time because of the exposure the calendar would bring to their services and were available right away.
I’d made a signup sheet for Noah to share at the station for firefighters who might want to participate and their availability.
I met with Peter Smutters, the firefighter mentioned during the committee meeting.
The one Mac didn’t seem to like. He’d volunteered to help me in any capacity I needed.
The way he winked I had a feeling he wanted to help me out of my clothes.
He was harmless because his cinnamon roll charm wasn’t anything I was into.
This morning, I went to the animal shelter and met the very friendly, very eager director, Kennedy. She said she’d have adoptable animals brought for the photo shoots, no problem.
It had only been a day, but it was slowly coming together, and I was pleased. And surprised. I expected some resistance, but I have only been met with excitement and encouragement. Except for Mac.
He gave me the grumpy face. The look. Oh, and the, we need to talk line.
Which meant he didn’t like me, my ideas or how he was stuck being in the calendar he didn’t even want.
I recognized he had to save face by being in it, especially after meeting Peter Smutters.
Mac would never live it down. But he was probably thinking he’d never live it down if he was in the calendar either.
I didn’t know what he imagined, his body slick with oil, only wearing bunker pants with one suspender off his shoulder as if he’d been caught getting dressed.
Oops, I forgot my shirt! Oh, and here’s a puppy you should adopt!
I could see his point.
But he was attractive. Boy, was he. I saw him in only his boxers this morning.
I hadn’t expected that when I rang his doorbell.
My shower in the little apartment had turned out to be nothing but cold water, so I’d had no choice but to throw on my robe and ask for help.
I agreed with Mac that it was probably a blown-out pilot light, but I had no idea how to fix that.
I’d burn the place down or blow it up and that would make Mac look even worse if the fire chief’s garage exploded.
On the doorstep, I’d ogled him like a nun who’d never seen a man in boxers before.
He was F.I.T. Crazy fit. With a smattering of hair on his chest. And the tattoo.
And abs. And sturdy thighs and… yeah, I’d have to fan myself if I thought about what was beneath those boxers that had pizza slices on them.
Yeah, that hadn’t diminished his sexiness at all.
So, back to Mac and the calendar. He was attractive. Skilled.
The photos of him–everyone–would be tasteful.
Fun. I knew what it was like to be shown off like a prized chicken.
Forced to preen and smile and do a shoulder thrust so small boobs appeared larger.
To be ogled and valued for outward appearance and the ability to sing or dance or twirl a baton.
This was different. Better. It was for a good cause, and it got the community involved.
Sure, Mac was sexy but in the photo I’d show his strength and friendliness–ha!–over the need to count his abs. We’d told him that, but his surliness was a good indicator that he didn’t believe me.
Now, I was going to have dinner with him. He couldn’t yell at me too much since we’d be chaperoned. Right?
Sure, the calendar had been my idea, but the committee had agreed. I hadn’t strong-armed them. With the feedback and interest I received since then, it was a good idea.
Trying to organize photo shoots, I learned that firefighter schedules were complicated and the chief’s was even worse.
While he worked full twenty-four-hour shifts with a crew, he was also an administrator, so he worked regular day shifts as well.
Plus, being on call for any extreme emergency.
So there was never a good time for him because there was always a chance he wouldn’t be able to show up.
Maybe I shouldn’t have turned down Andy’s and Drew’s dinner offer the night before when Mac worked.
I was a guest on their property, but I hadn’t wanted them to feel obligated to feed me.
Or entertain. I’d felt bad and declined.
Except I couldn’t keep saying no to Andy for the next week or two, so I’d agreed for tonight instead.
He hooked me with spaghetti and meatballs.
It was my favorite, although I didn’t have it very much with all the carbs and heavy meat and cheese. A calorie bomb.
But I wasn’t staying with my mother and if I wanted pasta, I was having pasta.
But I was having it with Mac, the perfect female snack.
Yeah, I thought of that rhyme. My mouth watered and it wasn’t for pasta.
Before dinner, I spent thirty minutes deciding on an outfit and ultimately decided on black jeans and an angora sweater.
Casual, but nice. Coming down the apartment-over-the-garage stairs, I wondered if I should ring the bell at the front or knock on the back door.
Andy must’ve been watching for me out the kitchen window because he came flying out of the house and onto the deck.
“Miss Georgia! We’re having garlic bread and the snake got taken away and the napkins go under the forks and they have to be folded.”
He met me at the edge of the bare deck, practically rocking back and forth with excitement. His hair was neatly combed, his shirt was tucked in, and he didn’t have any stains on him. At least for the moment. Keely’s boys would be mussed and stained within five minutes.
I held up my hand and didn’t make a move to get closer to their house. “Y’all have a snake in your house?”
He shook his head. “No, Simon has one. He took it to school, but it got taken away before I could hold it and–”
“Andy, let Georgia come inside. It’s freezing out there,” Mac shouted through the open back door.
Andy spun on his sneakered feet and made for the door but skidded to a halt.
I followed because there wasn’t a reptile in his house. If he said they had one, I would have reconsidered the dinner offer. I didn’t like snakes one bit.
“Women first,” Andy said.
“Thank you,” I said, entering the kitchen before him.
He shut the door and the scent of Italian filled the air.
Leaning down, I passed to Andy the champagne-looking bottle of sparkling apple juice I bought at the store earlier.
His eyes widened as he took it. “For me?”
I nodded. “Guests bring a little gift as thank you for being invited to dinner. Since you did the asking, the gift is for you.”
He spun around and held up the bottle for Mac and Drew to see. “I gots a gift! Can we drink it? What is it?”
I met Mac’s gaze across the set kitchen table and counter.
Drew told Andy what it was and that we could have it with dinner, but he had to wash his hands first. Andy ran somewhere in the house, most likely to a powder room. But I stared at Mac.
Because Mac was staring at me.
He was in an ovary-exploding flannel shirt and jeans. His hair, too, was combed.
“And this is for you,” I said, holding his belt in my other hand. I’d folded it in half, then let the tail end drop. He didn’t step closer so I set it on the counter by the house phone, bucket of pens, pencils and scissors, and sticky notes.
“Hello, Georgia,” Drew said, a bright smile on his face. “Good to see you again. Heard you had a little problem with your hot water heater.”
I glanced at Mac. “Um, yes.”
“It was the pilot light. You should be good to go,” Mac said.
I blinked, turned my attention to him. “Thanks for that, and for inviting me. I, um… heard there was garlic bread.”
Drew smiled. “That’s right. In fact, I need to pull it from the oven.” He turned and grabbed oven mitts. It seemed he was just as at home in Mac’s house as Mac was. In fact, I didn’t even know if Mac could cook.
Andy ran back into the room, flapping his hands as if he were air drying them.
“Miss Georgia. I know you’re doing a calendar with firefighters in it.
With puppies and kittens. Do you think my dad’s picture can be with Simon’s snake?
It’ll be cool to have it wrapped around him, especially without a shirt.
Did you know he gots a tattoo on his chest?
Right here.” He put his hand over his heart like he was ready to say the Pledge of Allegiance.
“That’s not where girls would have a tattoo because that’s where they have nipples. They feed babies. Do you have nipples?”
“Holy shit,” Mac muttered as his eyes fell closed.
I blinked at Andy because that was a lot of words on different topics. I was so focused on the idea of Mac having a tattoo on his broad chest that I didn’t process Andy’s question about me having nipples.
Drew huffed out a laugh and set a long half-loaf of garlic bread on a cutting board. “Andy, how did you hear about that?”
“Allison’s mom has a new baby and she feeds the baby with her nipples.”
“Well, that’s accurate, but private,” Drew added.
“You want Simon’s snake to be in the calendar?” I asked, redirecting. I knew he had no real interest in nipples like he probably would in about ten years, so I didn’t give it any more attention.
Andy’s eyes widened. “Yes! Can you imagine it all wrapped around Dad in the photo?”
I looked from Andy to his dad. Yes. Absolutely. I could see Mac shirtless with a snake wrapped around him. I imagined it, then what the snake in his pants might look like.
“The calendar is to show off animals who don’t have an amazing owner like Simon taking care of him. Or her. Is the snake a boy or a girl?” I asked.
Andy frowned, then bit his lip. He shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t know. But it’s named Sparky.”
“Well, don’t you think other animals should be loved by Simon’s of their own?”
He nodded vigorously.
“Then we’ll let those who need adopting be in the pictures so someone will see them and want them.”
“There are lots of pets that need ‘dopting?” Andy asked, cocking his head.
I thought for a moment, hoping my answer didn’t set him off on another tangent. “Probably.”
Andy spun around. “Can we ‘dopt a pet?”
Oh boy. I bit my lip.
“You have Richard,” Mac said.
Richard?
“He hides and we never see him,” Andy said with a pout. He even crossed his arms over his chest just like his father had at the meeting the day before when he heard something he didn’t like. “It’s no fun when your pet lives behind the dryer.”
I looked to Mac for clarification. Did they have a troll? “Richard is an unsociable, snooty cat who only comes out from wherever he likes to hide when he’s hungry. Lately, it’s been behind the dryer.”
“So do you have nipples that feed a baby?” Andy asked me. The boy could give anyone whiplash.
Mac stared at my chest and scowled as if I brought my nipples into the house to aggravate him. With a strange growl, he came around the counter, took my hand and tugged me through a door just off the kitchen.
“Mac, what–”
When he flipped on the light and shut the door behind us, I realized we were in the laundry room. And–
And then he kissed me.
And set his palms over my nipples.
Oh lordy. Now it was my biscuit getting buttered.