Chapter 2
Grady rubbed at a spot on the firetruck’s chrome bumper, just below the large Christmas wreath affixed to the grill. He and Archer had polished the firetruck’s red paint and chrome until every bit gleamed.
As Archer Roberts worked beside him, Grady thought about Chelsea. He’d been looking for a woman who was so good-looking on the inside that he’d recognize her in a second. It had been that way with Chelsea the moment their eyes had met.
Memories of Daphne invaded his thoughts, and he frowned.
His old girlfriend had been superficial, whereas Chelsea seemed so real.
Daphne had been overly body-conscious and had gotten to the point where she was always having Botox, spending a fortune on salves and creams, and had even scheduled a facelift before they broke up.
Daphne had only been twenty-nine and was already stunning on the outside, and in no way needed a facelift.
On the inside…Daphne wasn’t so beautiful.
She could have done with a personality lift.
Since then, all Grady knew was that he wanted someone real and beautiful both inside and out.
“Damn, that woman can skate.” Grady smiled as he remembered every move Chelsea had made on the ice. “It was like watching an ice angel dance.”
Archer glanced up from polishing a fender. “Who?”
Grady hadn’t realized he’d spoken aloud. “Chelsea Dunn. A gorgeous blonde I met at the Phoenix Ice Center.”
“I’ve seen her around and have heard stories about her.” Archer flipped the polishing rag over his shoulder. “She was something of a celebrity in her teens. National and world champion many times since she was a teenager.”
“I can believe that.” Grady pictured the moves Chelsea had made with such ease. “She skates like a pro.”
Archer braced one hand on the bright red truck. “She’s one hell of a beauty.”
A cool late-November breeze swept over Grady as he stared out the garage bay to the street.
Instead of the long concrete driveway, he saw Chelsea gliding on the ice.
“She makes figure skating look like an art.” He turned his gaze to Archer.
“Which it is. To compare her skating against others is like comparing a Monet to a five-year-old kid’s crayon drawing. ”
Archer nodded. “I’ve seen Chelsea at the rink. She’s definitely still got it.” He looked thoughtful as he took his rag and polished off the handprint he’d just put on the truck. “A shame she had to leave competition when she was in her prime.”
Grady cocked his head. “Why is that?”
“I’ll let her tell you about it.” Archer shrugged. “From what I’ve seen of you, you don’t let anything stand in your way when you want something. I’d bet you’ve already asked her out.”
Grady noticed a dull spot on the truck’s grill and polished it with his rag. “I’m that obvious, huh?”
“Like the Empire State Building grew legs and moved to downtown King Creek.” Archer slapped Grady on the shoulder. “You couldn’t have picked a better woman to ask out.”
Grady snorted. “I’m surprised she hasn’t been snagged by now.”
“Not from a lack of trying.” Archer set his rag on a worktable. “I’ve heard plenty of guys have asked her out, but she turns most of them down.” He cocked his head. “How did you get her to say yes?”
Grady tossed his rag next to Archer’s. “Didn’t give her a chance to tell me no.”
“So that’s the secret.” Archer smirked. “I’ll have to try the Grady Donovan Method next time I find a woman I want to date.”
Grady couldn’t help but grin. “It’ll get you a date at least two out of ten times.”
Archer went to the industrial sink and started washing polish from his hands. “I’m betting your success rate is closer to a nine.”
Grady paused to look at the pair of red, white, and chrome trucks that gleamed in the sunlight pouring in through the open garage door. “All I care about is that woman calling me.”
“You didn’t get her number?” Archer asked.
Grady shook his head. “I told Chelsea I left mine with Bette and to get a hold of me this afternoon as long as—”
The alarm blasted, drowning out the rest of Grady’s sentence.
“—as long as I don’t have to go out on a call,” he finished. He groaned even as he rushed to get into his bunker gear.
Chelsea tossed the potholders onto the island in her spacious kitchen as she moved away from the oven’s heat to the kitchen table next to the bay window, where her sisters sat.
Anneka and DeAndra had dropped everything at their respective homes and came straight to Chelsea’s place the moment she said she planned to make the cinnamon rolls she had promised.
She made them every year for the holidays, decorating the iced buns with pecans and bright red candied cherries.
Anneka and DeAndra were grown women out on their own, yet to Chelsea, they were still her kid sisters.
It might be late fall, but the central heating and baking made things toasty in the kitchen. Warm smells of cinnamon rolls, fresh out of the oven, teased her stomach.
She had left the dress shop she owned early and came straight home to make the rolls for her sisters. She had promised them a week ago, and she always kept her promises.
As she braced her hands on the back of an empty kitchen chair, she wondered if Grady would be one of the firefighters to show up if her kitchen caught on fire. She almost laughed at her ridiculous thoughts.
Yeah, that man flipped her switch. However, she’d been thinking it over, and she really needed to flip it off again.
Anneka slouched in her chair, her gaze shifting from Chelsea to DeAndra and back. Anneka furrowed her brows, her shoulder-length mahogany hair swinging to the side. “Have you heard from Brad and Joe?”
“A week ago.” Chelsea nodded at the mention of their twin brothers, who were both staying in Brad’s Phoenix apartment now that they were on break from their respective universities. “They were headed out of town to go camping. You’d think they would be back by now.”
DeAndra gave a slow nod as she pushed long hair, a deep shade of copper, from her face. “Yeah, but remember they’re men, and they’re camping. The male brain short-circuits when it involves the outdoors and hunting.”
“That’s not surprising.” Anneka snorted. “The male brain goes on vacation when he’s driving to the freaking grocery store.”
Chelsea laughed and ran her palms over the smooth wood of the chair back as she stood behind it. “How’s online dating life?”
Anneka rolled her eyes. “Met Mr. Oh-So-Wrong, but what’s new?”
“Yeah, I can sure pick ’em, too.” DeAndra grumbled and put her elbow on the kitchen table. “One of the last guys came to my company barbeque dressed in a tank with holes in it, ripped shorts, and flip-flops. I was so damned embarrassed when I saw him.”
Chelsea shook her head, picturing a real slob. “That’s not just tacky, it’s disrespectful to you and everyone at the BBQ.”
Anneka made a gagging sound. “Ewww. What did you do?”
DeAndra grimaced. “The moment he walked up to me at the park, I turned him right around and told him we’d pick up pizza, and then go through the DQ drive-thru for ice cream, because the BBQ was a dud.
After we got the goods, I dropped him off at his home with the pizza.
I took the ice cream and never answered another call from him. ”
“Jeez, what a loser.” Anneka thumped DeAndra on her upper arm. “Why is this the first we’ve heard of it? Summer ended a few months ago.”
“I was too pissed.” DeAndra lowered her head so that her hair covered her face, and she banged her forehead against the table. “Ouch.” Her words came out muffled. “Dating sucks.”
Chelsea smiled to herself as she stood near her sisters and enjoyed the back and forth between the three of them. Anneka and DeAndra were fun and two of her closest friends. Blood was definitely thicker than water.
“I hear you, sister.” Anneka scooted up in her chair. “The guy I’m seeing now is on his way out the door. Everyone belches and farts, but not in front of other people. All the time.”
“Sounds like a winner.” DeAndra wore a wry grin as she raised her head and sat up. “How is he in bed?”
Anneka shrugged. “So-so.”
Chelsea waved her hand, as if brushing away dust. “Not worth your time. Who wants someone like that? You’re certainly not desperate.”
Anneka put her arms on the table and leaned forward, her gaze focused on Chelsea. “Talking about dating, maybe you should go online, too.”
Chelsea’s thoughts bolted immediately to Grady, and she hoped her cheeks didn’t redden like they tended to do.
“Wait a minute.” DeAndra shook her finger at Chelsea. “You’ve met someone.”
Anneka sat straight in her chair. “She has.”
Chelsea held in a groan. Busted. How did they always know? Her sisters were too intuitive for their own good.
“It’s nothing.” Chelsea gripped the back of the chair tighter as she shifted from one foot to the other. “Really.”
Anneka leaned back in her chair, her arms folded across her chest, and looked at Chelsea with a gently accusing stare. “You’ve been holding back.”
“It’s not like that at all.” Chelsea shook her head. “A guy gave me his number at the skating rink yesterday.” She shrugged. “I haven’t called him.”
“Tell us about him.” DeAndra looked at Chelsea just as intently as Anneka did. “Everything.”
“For goodness’ sake.” Chelsea huffed out a breath, half-frustrated and half-amused. “He plays in a hockey league and was practicing when Kyra and I went out on the ice. He’s a firefighter here at the King Creek Fire Department.”
“Oooooh. KCFD.” DeAndra’s lips went from a firm line to tipping at the corners. “I bet he’s hot.”
It was Chelsea’s turn to roll her eyes. “Ha. Ha.” She couldn’t hold back the truth. “Okay, yes, he’s freaking hot.”
Anneka and DeAndra gave each other high-fives.
DeAndra grinned at Chelsea. “About damned time.”
“I haven’t decided whether or not I’m going to call him.” His number was still somewhere in her purse. It was true she hadn’t decided, mostly because the thought of him being in a dangerous profession was giving her second thoughts.