The Fireman Who Loved Me by Jennifer Bernard Page A

some home cooking.”
    “Well, aren’t you the sweetest thing. As a matter of fact, I was feeling sickly myself that night.”
    “The captain told me. Is this your beautiful granddaughter?” His summer-blue eyes smiled into Melissa’s.
    That did it. She was going to faint at this gorgeous man’s feet. She opened her mouth, hoping something would come out, anything, but it took Nelly’s fierce hand squeeze to get the words flowing.
    “Hi, I’m Melissa.” And that was the end of the flow.
    “So you’re the granddaughter.” He cocked his head at her, a speculative look in his eye. Her mind raced. What had he heard about her? Had Brody said something? What? And how could she find out?
    Ryan turned back to Nelly. “Would you like something to drink, Mrs. McGuire?”
    “A glass of water,” she said firmly, with a venomous glance toward Fred, who was lost in the crowd around Ella Joy.
    “Coming right up. Why don’t you come sit down over here.” He led Nelly and Melissa to a place on the bench that had obviously been prepared specially for Nelly, with a dusty-looking cushion and a bouquet of daisies in a plastic cup.
    “My, you boys think of everything. I hope you’re going to sit here next to us.”
    “Of course I will. You tell your granddaughter to save me a seat.” Ryan winked at Melissa. “I’m going to go finish up this stew. You like lamb stew, Miz Nelly?”
    “I’m sure it’ll be just wonderful.” Nelly patted his hand. As soon as he was gone, she turned on Melissa.
    “Melissa, you’re embarrassing me,” she hissed.
    “I know. I’ll be okay, I promise. He just . . . took me by surprise.”
    “Didn’t I tell you he was something else? Look at Miss Trampy-Pants. She wants all the boys to herself.”
    Melissa glanced over at the anchor, who was surrounded by eager firemen. The mob included a big fellow with a belly, Fred the Stud, several men in their twenties and thirties. They were all fit, rugged, muscular guys (except for the big-bellied one), and attractive as hell. But Melissa had to admit, Ryan was in a class by himself.
    “I’m going to make sure Ryan stays right next to me.” Nelly cackled. “I’ll turn the fire hose on Ella if I have to. I bet you’re sorry now that he was sick.”
    Surprisingly, “sorry” didn’t come to mind. Ryan was gorgeous, but she couldn’t imagine feeling comfortable with him. Not the way she had with Brody. Even though she’d yelled at Brody and he’d yelled back, there still had been a feeling of ease with him. Maybe that was why , come to think of it. He hadn’t backed down, and he hadn’t gotten offended. She hadn’t worried about what to say, clearly. And as much as she admired Ryan’s appearance, somehow she had no interest in being kissed by him. When he’d taken her arm to guide her to the bench, she hadn’t felt a flicker of that electric jolt she’d felt with Brody.
    Where was Captain Brody? He must have known about this dinner—captains knew that sort of thing, didn’t they? She wondered if he was avoiding her. Fine. She’d just have to enjoy herself with Bachelor Number One.
    When Ryan returned, Melissa gave him a beaming smile. He handed them blue plastic cups filled with water, and then sat down, swinging one leg over the bench so he straddled it. Melissa searched for a topic of conversation. It was time to prove she knew how to speak words in a coherent sequence.
    “So Fred was saying this is one of the most sought-after fire stations . . . do you like working here?”
    Bingo. Ryan’s face lit up. “Love it. We work hard but we have fun too. We play jokes on each other. A couple weeks ago we put Double D’s boots in the freezer, you shoulda seen his face when he stepped into ’em. He jumped around like his socks were on fire. All kinds of shit like that. Cap doesn’t mind, he says it’s good for morale. He says when you’re dealing with life-and-death situations, you have to let out the pressure somehow or