and horrified at the very idea, even as the small part of her brain that was still functioning logically wondered why it had taken the emergency responders so long to arrive. Definitely something she needed to take into account if something ever happened to Andrew.
Gracie, in the act of eating yet another brownie, dropped the spatula guiltily. Nodded. “When I was outside turning off the gas to the grill.”
Penelope checked her watch, squinting to make out the numbers. Approximately eight minutes for them to get here from across town. Not bad, she had to admit. Though five minutes would have been better.
The siren got louder. And louder. Closer and closer.
She did a mini twirl, her mind telling her to escape, her feet having no idea what she was doing. No. No, no, no. The last thing she needed was everyone in Shady Grove knowing she’d done something so completely stupid. And they would. She’d lived here for less than a year, but she already knew the paper was notorious for printing things like this, usually smack-dab on the front page.
Oh, dear Lord, she could imagine the headlines: Local Accountant Left Heartbroken and Alone After Son Refuses to Spend Time With Her. Almost Blows Her Own Head Off to End Her Grief.
She’d die of embarrassment.
No. She definitely did not want the fire department here, parked in her driveway for the entire neighborhood to see. Did not want them trying to help her. She was fine. Slightly charred, yes, but overall no real harm done.
The sirens were close now, the sound incredibly loud. Gracie hurried toward the front door as if she owned the place, her flip-flops slapping in the most irritating way.
“This way,” she told someone.
A moment later, she returned followed by a tall, darkly handsome firefighter—in boots, a heavy jacket and even a helmet—looking as if he was ready to battle a raging inferno instead of dealing with a now stone-cold grill.
“This is a nightmare,” Penelope whispered, shutting her eyes. “A complete and utter nightmare.”
“Are you kidding?” Gracie asked breathlessly, her eyes dreamy as she stared at the good-looking man. “If I’d known the local firefighters looked like that, I would’ve let that stove fire keep burning last year instead of putting it out with the extinguisher.”
Penelope doubted all the firefighters in town looked like the one approaching her. He was one of
those
guys. Too handsome, with dark, wavy hair visible underneath the helmet, deep brown eyes and a charming, boyish grin.
One that said,
why yes, I do know I’m God’s gift to women. Drink it in, ladies. Drink it in.
The worst kind to a woman’s sense of self, willpower and virtue.
Not her, of course. Other women. She was too old for him. Had too many responsibilities and more important things to focus on in her life other than dating or, heaven forbid, a relationship.
Especially when she’d already proved she wasn’t any good at them.
“Ma’am,” he said, “I’m Leo Montesano with the Shady Grove Fire Department. Could you tell us where the grill is?”
Ma’am.
See? Even he knew she was too old for him.
Why she was disappointed and a little ticked off, she had no idea.
It must have been that disappointment that had her taking a moment to realize what he’d asked—and that he wasn’t alone. A huge bear of a man, his wide face as ordinary as the dark-haired one’s was extraordinary, stood behind the younger firefighter.
All she could do was lift her hand and point to the door.
“I’m on it,” the second fireman said, heading out the French doors.
“Could you tell me what happened?” Firefighter Montesano—or whatever title he went by—asked, taking his helmet off.
Even mussed, his hair was perfect, dark as night and waving sinfully, almost artfully, around that sculpted face.
“I was reading in my room,” Gracie blurted, stepping between them. “I had the window open because it’s such a nice day, when Leighann—that’s my
Gracie, in the act of eating yet another brownie, dropped the spatula guiltily. Nodded. “When I was outside turning off the gas to the grill.”
Penelope checked her watch, squinting to make out the numbers. Approximately eight minutes for them to get here from across town. Not bad, she had to admit. Though five minutes would have been better.
The siren got louder. And louder. Closer and closer.
She did a mini twirl, her mind telling her to escape, her feet having no idea what she was doing. No. No, no, no. The last thing she needed was everyone in Shady Grove knowing she’d done something so completely stupid. And they would. She’d lived here for less than a year, but she already knew the paper was notorious for printing things like this, usually smack-dab on the front page.
Oh, dear Lord, she could imagine the headlines: Local Accountant Left Heartbroken and Alone After Son Refuses to Spend Time With Her. Almost Blows Her Own Head Off to End Her Grief.
She’d die of embarrassment.
No. She definitely did not want the fire department here, parked in her driveway for the entire neighborhood to see. Did not want them trying to help her. She was fine. Slightly charred, yes, but overall no real harm done.
The sirens were close now, the sound incredibly loud. Gracie hurried toward the front door as if she owned the place, her flip-flops slapping in the most irritating way.
“This way,” she told someone.
A moment later, she returned followed by a tall, darkly handsome firefighter—in boots, a heavy jacket and even a helmet—looking as if he was ready to battle a raging inferno instead of dealing with a now stone-cold grill.
“This is a nightmare,” Penelope whispered, shutting her eyes. “A complete and utter nightmare.”
“Are you kidding?” Gracie asked breathlessly, her eyes dreamy as she stared at the good-looking man. “If I’d known the local firefighters looked like that, I would’ve let that stove fire keep burning last year instead of putting it out with the extinguisher.”
Penelope doubted all the firefighters in town looked like the one approaching her. He was one of
those
guys. Too handsome, with dark, wavy hair visible underneath the helmet, deep brown eyes and a charming, boyish grin.
One that said,
why yes, I do know I’m God’s gift to women. Drink it in, ladies. Drink it in.
The worst kind to a woman’s sense of self, willpower and virtue.
Not her, of course. Other women. She was too old for him. Had too many responsibilities and more important things to focus on in her life other than dating or, heaven forbid, a relationship.
Especially when she’d already proved she wasn’t any good at them.
“Ma’am,” he said, “I’m Leo Montesano with the Shady Grove Fire Department. Could you tell us where the grill is?”
Ma’am.
See? Even he knew she was too old for him.
Why she was disappointed and a little ticked off, she had no idea.
It must have been that disappointment that had her taking a moment to realize what he’d asked—and that he wasn’t alone. A huge bear of a man, his wide face as ordinary as the dark-haired one’s was extraordinary, stood behind the younger firefighter.
All she could do was lift her hand and point to the door.
“I’m on it,” the second fireman said, heading out the French doors.
“Could you tell me what happened?” Firefighter Montesano—or whatever title he went by—asked, taking his helmet off.
Even mussed, his hair was perfect, dark as night and waving sinfully, almost artfully, around that sculpted face.
“I was reading in my room,” Gracie blurted, stepping between them. “I had the window open because it’s such a nice day, when Leighann—that’s my
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