Heating up the Holidays Read online

  “What about Toni?” Brad asked, keeping his tone casual.

  “Good news and bad news.” Jim grinned. “And you’re gonna owe me.”

  “Fine. Good news first.”

  “She doesn’t have a boyfriend.”

  Whoa. That wasn’t good news-that was freakin’ excellent news.

  “Not only that,” Jim continued, “but apparently she hasn’t had one for a while. Like six months.”

  Brad’s eyes narrowed. “She told me she was involved.”

  “Right. Obviously to blow you off. Which leads to the bad news.”

  “Which is…?”

  “She doesn’t like firefighters.”

  Brad frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “She. Doesn’t. Like. Firefighters. What part don’t you get?”

  Great. Was she another woman who couldn’t handle the danger his job entailed? As soon as the question entered his mind, something told him the answer was no. Whereas Sandy had turned out to be a needy, clingy sort of woman, Toni struck him as very confident. And far too independent and smart to be unreasonable about a man’s job involving some danger. There had to be another reason. “Why doesn’t she like firefighters?”

  “Don’t know.” Jim shrugged. “If I had to guess, I’d say she probably got her heart broken by one, but who knows? Who can figure out women?”

  “How do you know all this?”

  Jim rolled his eyes. “Because I’m thirty years old and in spite of knowing a lot of them, women are impossible to understand.”

  This time Brad rolled his eyes. “I mean, how do you know she doesn’t have a boyfriend or like firefighters?”

  “Oh. Bobby T told me,” Jim said, referring to the bartender at Breezes, one of Santa Rey’s most popular beachfront bars. Since Bobby’s last name contained about seventeen letters and was completely unpronounceable, especially after a couple of beers, he was simply Bobby T. “Toni and that gal who works with her went to the bar last night and had one of those long, boring, involved chick chats. Since business was slow, Bobby couldn’t help but overhear bits and pieces. They even drew him into the convo a few times. I saw him this morning before I came on duty and he told me. And now I’m telling you. Figured you’d want to know, especially if you plan to make a move. Once word of this gets out, guys’ll be all over Toni like wet on water.”

  A sensation that felt exactly like jealousy rippled through Brad. “Right. Except, in case it’s escaped your notice, I’m a firefighter.”

  “Uh-huh.” Jim pointed his spatula at the ladder truck. “Yeah, the big shiny red truck kinda gave it away. But I doubt that’s gonna stop you. You’ve been panting after this woman for three months. Keeping your distance because you thought she was involved. Now you know she’s not.”

  “I haven’t been panting,” Brad felt compelled to object. “Breathing heavy, maybe.”

  “Panting,” Jim insisted. “Dude, I’ve known you since tenth grade and I’ve never seen you so…I don’t even know the word to describe it, about a woman. Discombobulated. Stupefied. Like a deer in the headlights.” Jim shook his head. “Maybe I shouldn’t have told you. I’m thinkin’ this could only lead to trouble.”

  Brad knew what Jim meant by trouble-a serious entanglement. But who said anything had to be serious? He grinned. “Trouble is my middle name.”

  “Like hell.” Jim’s smile turned downright evil. “It’s Theodore.”

  Damn. There were definitely disadvantages to having friends for years. Brad shot Jim a glare meant to deep-fry him on the spot. “Those will be interesting last words, should you make the mistake of repeating them.” His nickname at the station was already embarrassing enough. He didn’t need a derivative of Teddy Bear or some such cutesy crap to live down. “Don’t you have eggs and toast to burn?”

  Jim lifted his hands in an exaggerated backing-off gesture. “Yup. You wanna stay for breakfast?”

  “Tempting as that sounds, I’m gonna blast outta here.” He nodded toward the guys polishing the truck. “Don’t poison those poor boys.”

  “Are you kidding? They’d eat tire treads if I poured melted cheese on them.”

  “Do you know how to melt cheese?”

  “Sure. That’s what blowtorches are for.”

  Brad wasn’t sure Jim was kidding. “Good thing we’re fully equipped with fire extinguishers.” He clapped his hand on Jim’s shoulder. “Hope your shift’s quieter than mine was.”

  “Enjoy your days off. Got any plans?”

  “Since Christmas is next week, figured I’d better start shopping.”

  Jim laughed. “Bet I know where you’re going first.”

  Brad chuckled. “Oh, yeah. Got me some flowers to buy. Wish me luck.”

  “I wish you luck, dude. I have a feeling you’re going to need it.”

  Maybe he would. But he was determined. He didn’t fear going after what he wanted-no one had ever given him anything so he’d been doing that his entire life. And he wanted Toni Rizzo-in a way he hadn’t wanted any woman in a long time. Yeah, he wanted her. Naked. In his bed. Under him. Over him. Putting out the damn fire she’d lit in him the moment he’d seen her.

  Yet he wanted something more. Wanted to get to know her. He didn’t have any doubt they’d get along in bed, but he also wanted to know if they’d get along outside the bedroom, something he hadn’t been interested in finding out about a woman for a very long time. He couldn’t explain it, it didn’t make sense, but there it was. So in-his-face he couldn’t deny it. She was at the top of his Christmas list. At the bottom, too. And everywhere in between. And now that he knew she wasn’t taken, there was nothing to stop him.

  Well, except her crazy aversion to firefighters. But he had every intention of changing her mind.

  After all, how difficult could that be?

  2

  T ONI R IZZO stood behind the long granite counter at Blooming Pails and deftly worked sprigs of mistletoe, poinsettia, red and white roses and fragrant pine into the two dozen centerpieces she was putting together for this evening’s Wilson/Mayberry wedding. Nothing like December nuptials to boost business, which was precisely what she needed. Only three months remained until the bank’s first six-month evaluation, and she had to make damn sure her revenues showed growth. The loan she’d taken out to open the shop included a clause that she was subject to a twice-yearly review for the first two years. If sales were maintained or grew each quarter, she kept her low interest rate. If she failed to maintain or increase sales, her interest rate would go up. Which would put a financial strain on her fledgling business she simply couldn’t afford-one that could result in her losing Blooming Pails and everything she’d worked so hard for.

  So far, sales had been decent for the holiday season, but it was an active time of year for any business and she needed her sales to be much better than merely decent. This month was do-or-die time to generate enough revenues to keep that interest rate down. She had to cultivate customers to keep the sales up after the holidays were over. Because if her business failed, she’d find herself right back where she’d been three years ago-out of work, her career in tatters, and being smothered by her well-meaning but overwhelming family who were relentless in their quest to drag her ass back home and into the family business. That alone was incentive enough to make sure Blooming Pails succeeded. The fifty-mile buffer she’d put between herself and the fam when she moved to Santa Rey had saved her sanity. She had every intention of keeping her ass right here, and working that ass off in her shop.

  She shot a quick downward look over her shoulder and grimaced. Yeah-if only it were possible to actually work her ass off. Of course, even if she ever managed to-and in her twenty-eight years she hadn’t managed-her mother would whip up a few trays of antipasto and lasagna to put some meat on her bones. And if her mother failed, Nana Rose would take up the banner. Her grandmother would fix her eyeballs on Toni with what she called the Stare of Death and command, “Eat, Antonia. Mangia. Men do not like women who look lik