Kathleen Y'Barbo - Her Holiday Fireman

Not really. Leah bit back a response and nodded. “Go. This time.”

Kate was gone before Leah could say anything further. Again the sole remaining diner met her gaze. Pasting on a smile, she grabbed for the order pad.

“Ready for dessert?” she said as sweetly as possible. “Pie’s good today. Chocolate, coconut and—”

“Banana cream,” he said along with her but his Texas drawl drowned out hers. “Yeah, I know.” He set down the menu and she noticed his dark blue T-shirt emblazoned with the logo of the Houston Fire Department. “But what I’d really like is another round of redfish. Then we can talk about pie.”

“Redfish,” she echoed.

“Yeah. Is that a problem?” His gaze swept the room before once again focusing on her. “I’m surprised this place is so empty. The food’s not bad.”

Not bad? Leah opened her mouth to offer a candid response then thought better of it. “Well,” she said carefully, “it is Wednesday.”

“Yes,” he said slowly but obviously without a clue, “it is.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she spied Orlando walking toward the control box for the lights. Leah shot him a look before returning her attention to the diner.

“So...” Leah paused. “Redfish?”

“Redfish.” He dismissed her by picking up his phone.

“Redfish,” she echoed as she returned to the kitchen. “And not a word from you, please.”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” Orlando said, though his expression stated the opposite.

She returned to the table with the tea pitcher in hand. “Sweet, right?”

This time, the fireman offered a dazzling smile. “Yes,” he said as he pushed away his phone to offer up his tea glass. “Thank you.”

His smile caught her by surprise. She glanced down at the brochures spread across the tabletop. “Looking to rent a place?”

He hurried to shove aside the pages. For a moment he seemed to be trying to decide how to answer.

Leah finished pouring the tea then set down his glass. “I didn’t mean to pry. It’s just that it’s rare we get renters down here this time of year and...” His expression remained unreadable. “I’ll just go check on your food.”

When she pressed through the kitchen doors, Orlando gave her a look over his shoulder before nodding to the half-filled plate. Leah frowned and silently filled up the remainder of the platter with shrimp and headed toward the dining room. The old cook meant well, but she’d not let Pop’s high standards slip for the sake of the balance sheet. If they lost money on the handsome fireman, so be it.

A covert glance told her the fireman had folded away his real estate papers. “Here you are,” she said with a smile. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

“No, thanks.”

“All right then. Enjoy.” She tucked the tray under her arm and took a step away from the table.

“Wait.”

Leah turned to scan the plate and then the table. “Did I forget something?”

His gaze was steady but his expression softer. “No. I did.”

She waited a second before shaking her head. “I don’t understand.”

“My manners.” He studied his hands then looked up at her. “It’s not exactly my best...” The fireman shook his head. “No excuses. I’ve been rude. Please accept my apology.”

Any lingering irritation at having to stay open well past closing time evaporated. “Hey, don’t worry about it. We all have our bad days.”

“Yeah,” he said under his breath as he looked away.

An awkward silence fell. “Okay, well,” Leah said, “I’ll just let you enjoy your shrimp.”

“Wait. If you’re not in a hurry, can you answer some questions about Vine Beach?”

* * *

Ryan clamped his mouth shut. Had he actually asked a total stranger for help?

Yup, he had. But her eyes were kind. And he was tired of being alone. Especially today.

He dared a look at the redhead and saw that she seemed to be considering the question. “You don’t have to,” he hurried to add. “I mean I’m... I was just thinking maybe you could fill me in. I’m new here.” He gestured to the stack of real estate listings, meager as they were. “Guess you already figured that out, though.”

She glanced over her shoulder at the older fellow watching them from the kitchen door and then she nodded and sat. “Sure, why not?”

Ryan reached across the table to offer his hand. “I’m Ryan,” he said as his gaze collided with wide green eyes, noted a sprinkling of freckles. “Ryan Owen.”

“Pleased to meet you, Ryan Owen. I’m Leah.” Her grasp was firm as she took his hand.

“Just Leah?” he said.

“Leah Berry.” She paused only a second as if gauging whether the name held meaning to him. “So, what brings you to Vine Beach?”

There were a dozen possible answers. He decided on the easiest. “Work. Apparently the city’s been without a fire chief since...”

“Since my father’s illness,” she supplied.

Now what? With those green eyes pointed in his direction, his mind went blank. “I’m sorry,” he finally managed to say.

“No, it’s fine. He’s...well, it was time for him to retire. Welcome to Vine Beach,” she said with the beginnings of a smile. “I’m glad the position’s been filled. Pop would be glad, too.”

He let out a long breath. “Maybe he could give me some pointers, then.”

Her smile disappeared. “I don’t know. He’s not...well.”

“Right. Sure.” It didn’t take a genius to figure out he’d just stomped all over a touchy subject. “So, anyway, I’ve kind of put everything off until the last minute and now I’m scrambling for a place to stay. I thought I’d just get a hotel room but apparently the hotel’s closed until February.”

“Yes, the owners spend the winter with their children in Florida. I always thought it was funny to leave one beach to vacation at another one.” She chuckled. “But then I’m easily amused. Anyway, I might be able to help you find a short-term rental until you can figure out where in Vine Beach you’d like to live permanently.”

Permanently. That word and Vine Beach refused to fit in the same sentence as far as Ryan was concerned.

“Don’t need much. It’s just me and my dog.” He reached for the real estate papers. “I can’t make much sense of these. Looks like my choices are pretty slim. Either take a room over the beauty shop courtesy of my new boss or spend a whole bunch to rent a big place on the highway.”

“Hmm....” She picked up the first paper and began to scan it. “Ima’s Beauty Shop or the highway? Slim pickings indeed. Let me see if I recognize any other local addresses in here.”

While she read, he watched, something that felt oddly natural given the reason for today’s lunch. Mourning his late wife, Jenna, wouldn’t bring her back, and neither would keeping the promises she’d extracted from him before she died.

And yet here he sat keeping at least one of them, the one about moving to the beach, while working hard to remember the others. Something about the redhead’s smile made him feel better about giving up everything he’d worked for to come and live at the beach where he’d be starting over with not much hope for advancement. When a guy was chief of a department where he was the only paid employee, the only ladder to climb was the one on the ancient and apparently little-used fire truck.

“Here’s one.” Her gaze lifted to meet his. “It’s two blocks from the high school and walking distance to downtown.” She turned the paper around to point to an ad he’d somehow missed.

“Three bedrooms, one bath and a fenced yard,” he read. “Sounds perfect. What’s the number?”

He punched them into the phone as Leah read them off. A moment later, he had the landlord on the phone. “So it’s already leased,” he said after he’d given the man the reason for his call. “Thanks anyway.”