My Wild Irish Dragon (6 page)

Yet, so much had changed for her in a year. Just the fact that this building she was about to enter had gone from a seventies disco palace to an elegant bed-and-breakfast was amazing.

Now her brother was welcoming the city's paranormal visitors to his B and B, and she was Firefighter Arish. How different their lives were from living in a caretaker's cottage in sleepy little Ballyhoo, Ireland.

They still played sessions at the Boston Uncommon Tea Room, and the public flocked to the place on their Irish folk songs night. Life was good.

She could have relaxed and done nothing but play her flute, tin whistles, and violin once a week, but that person would not be Chloe Arish. She had needed more, and the fire service certainly fit the bill.

The door flew open and Rory grinned. “Well, are you goin' to stand out here all night?”

She chuckled and said, “What if I am?”

He snorted. “Then I suppose I'll have to push you to the restaurant.”

She became somber. “I was just feelin' nostalgic. Would you be opposed to eatin' here instead of at some fancy restaurant? I'll help Amber cook.”

He cocked his head and stared at her curiously. “You don't have to help a minor goddess do anythin', Chloe, but if you'd rather stay in, we can certainly accommodate you. It's your night.”

She smiled gratefully. “Thanks.”

She followed her brother inside, and he took her coat and hung it in the closet next to the front door. The long winding staircase led to the second floor where the kitchen and office were located. The main floor housed the large parlor and dining room. A dumbwaiter brought food downstairs when Amber didn't just “poof” it down there directly.

Four guest rooms were located on the third floor, and Rory and Amber occupied the top floor. There had been maids' quarters above that in what was now considered the attic. It was mostly for storage. Amber insisted maids weren't necessary as long as she could make the beds with a snap of her fingers.

Rory looked up and raised his voice, “Amber?”

She appeared beside him. “No need to shout, hon.” Then she hugged Chloe. “You look gorgeous. I don't think I've seen you in a dress since Shannon's wedding in Ballyhoo.”

Chloe chuckled. “I don't wear a lot of fussy dresses. I prefer to be comfortable.”

“Dresses can be very comfortable. We should go shopping sometime.”

“Why? Is this dress not fittin' the tab?”

“Um. I think you were going for ‘fitting the bill,' but that's not what I was saying. It's perfect. I just thought you might like to have a couple of dresses in pretty colors, just in case. You'd look fabulous in hot pink or electric blue.”

“Just in case of what?” Rory asked, looking genuinely perplexed.

Amber bumped his elbow. “In case she has a hot date.”

Rory made the mistake of leaning back and letting out a deep belly laugh.

Chloe crossed her arms. “I think I'm insulted.”

“You think?” Amber stomped on her boyfriend's toe until he picked up his foot and hopped around. He didn't stop laughing though.

“Do you think no one will ever ask me for a date, Brother? Am I hideous?”

“You're not hideous, Chloe. But history has shown that any poor bloke who asks you for a date gets told to go on his way and never bother you again. If they don't listen the first time, I usually see 'em runnin' for their lives the second.”

Chloe snickered. Her brother was right, but that was back in Ballyhoo where sons of sheepherders and fishermen held no appeal. Now things were different.
She
was different. And one Ryan Fierro was responsible for some of the uncomfortable changes.

“I could date,” she said. “I was asked out recently.”

Rory's eyebrows shot up. “Is that a fact?”

“'Tis indeed.”

Amber clapped her hands. “Awesome! Let's go shopping on your next day off. When will that be?”

Chloe let out a sigh. “I'm not feelin' much like shoppin'. It's not like I was asked to go to the ballet or symphony. I was asked to go on a fishin' trip.”

“Fishin'?” Rory said. “After all the fish we had to catch and eat on our way to Iceland? I thought you said you'd never eat fish again.”

“I did. Which is why I turned down the invitation.”

“Oh…” Amber said, sounding disappointed. “Well, maybe someday…”

Her brother and his girlfriend were really irritating. They seemed to think that her being asked for a date was a fluke that would never happen again. Well, she'd just turn the tables on them.

“So, when are you two gettin' married?”

Rory barked a laugh. Amber didn't seem quite as amused.

“It's not that we won't, someday…” Rory said.

“Well, I can't imagine what you're waitin' for. Hell, you've been inseparable since the day you met.”

She couldn't hide the smirk creeping into her smile. The two of them had begun their relationship fighting over the same apartment, each of them refusing to leave.

Suddenly Chloe realized she and Ryan had been thrown right into a similar situation. They had been competing for a single job.

A year and a half ago, it had been clear to everyone
except
Rory and Amber that their struggle involved more than an apartment. The way they'd looked at each other, even when angry, couldn't hide a smoldering sensuality.

Is
that
what the captain saw when she and Ryan were glaring at each other?

“Holy shite,” she muttered under her breath.

Amber put her arm around Chloe's shoulder. “There's no need to stand here in the foyer. Let's go sit in the living room.”

A split second later she wobbled, light-headed, when she and Amber appeared in the fourth floor apartment in front of the sofa. “I may never get used to teleportation.”

Amber smiled. “Have a seat. I'll be right back.”

She disappeared into thin air and a moment later returned holding Rory's hand.

“You didn't have to do that. We can take the elevator like normal people,” Chloe said. “In fact, you-know-who would be very upset if she saw you usin' your power where anyone walkin' by could see.”

“It's still light out. People can't see in, and we don't have guests at the moment.” Amber set a tray of hot appetizers on the coffee table. Appetizers that hadn't been in her hands a moment ago.

“Now, tell us what's bothering you.”

“Who said anythin's botherin' me?”

“You did. You want to stay in and your accent is back.”

“That's just because I'm with me brother. It comes floodin' back in the presence of a fellow Irishman.”

Amber folded her arms. “Do I need to loosen your tongue with some Irish whiskey?”

Chloe grinned. “I'll certainly let you try.”

Rory laughed and took that as his cue to fetch the Bushmills. He poured two fingers for each of them and set one in front of his sister.

She downed it in one gulp.

“Jaysus, Chloe. Amber's right. You must be upset. Since you've never done that unless dared, I assume it's somethin' terrible.”

“It's no biggo.”

Rory's glass paused on the way to his mouth. “Biggo?”

Amber pushed away her drink and said, “I think she meant to say
biggie.
‘It's no biggie.'”

Chloe's face heated. Just when she thought she had all the American expressions down, she screwed up another one.

Rory laughed. He stopped quickly though. “So, little sister. It doesn't matter if the problem is little or biggo. If it's a problem of yours, 'tis a problem of mine.”

She stiffened. “Says who?”

“Says someone who loves you.”

As if the air went out of her, she sagged against the couch. “I'm sorry.” After a long pause, she blurted out, “There's this man…”

* * *

At Sunday dinner, Jayce announced to the entire Fierro clan, “So, I hear Ryan has a new girlfriend.”

Ryan sputtered, almost choking on his mother's excellent manicotti. After the catcalls, congratulations, and lewd comments had died down, he said, “You heard wrong.”

“Really? Because a couple of the guys have met her and whooeeee…” He waved his fingers as if they were on fire. “They said if they had seen her first…”

Ryan narrowed his eyes at Jayce. “If they'd seen her first, they'd what? Ask her out? Tell those fools she'd eat 'em alive.”

Mr. Fierro laughed. “It sounds as if my middle son might eat 'em alive.”

Ryan shook his head. “Not at all. I'm just trying to save your buddies an unnecessary rejection…but if they like being shot down, tell 'em to go for it.”

“So, she's not looking for a hot date?” his youngest brother Luca asked. “Why not? Is she already seeing someone?”

Ryan was silent. He could pretend he didn't know, but Chloe had told him she didn't have a husband or boyfriend.

“I don't know,” Ryan started. “But she has kind of a prickly vibe. Nice enough to the married guys, but she definitely gives out the ‘back off' message if anyone tries to get too friendly. And her favorite phrase seems to be, ‘I can take care of meself.'”

As the majority of the men guessed that meant Chloe was gay, his mother raised her hands. “Now, now, Jayce, Miguel, Gabe, Ryan, Dante, Noah, and Luca…don't forget…it's not about a person's sex or sexual orientation. If they can do the job, that's all that matters.”

The Fierro patriarch shook his head. “How do you remember all their names? And in order, no less.”

The sons chuckled. Good ol' Dad could be counted on to bring the comic relief to any situation—whether he meant to or not.

Dante folded his arms and focused on Ryan. “Maybe she's just independent. So, you're saying you wouldn't go out with her if she asked you?”

Ryan tried to keep a straight face. “Yeah, that'll happen when hell freezes over.”

Gabe, his next older brother, the one who probably knew him best, asked, “So if we set you up on a blind date, you'd go?”

“Hell no. I don't go on blind dates. You know that.”

He shrugged. “I just thought I'd ask. It's been a long time since Melanie. Now that you're in a pretty much all-male job, you might need help meeting eligible females.”

Ryan snorted. “I don't need any help in that department.”

Miguel, the second son, who was happily married, said, “There's always the girls who hang around the station hoping to snag a date with a firefighter.”

Ryan's brows shot up. “The
Fire Hoes
? No way.”

His dad laughed. “In my day we called them Jake groupies, but I like your term better.”

“Leave him alone, boys,” his mother said. “Ryan may not be ready for love, despite what you all think.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

“Who said anything about love?” Noah, the next to the youngest, asked. “It's just weird he's been celibate for a year.” He leaned out enough to see Ryan. “You must be ready for a little fun.”

“Again, I can find my own fun.” Ryan drained his wineglass. “May I be excused?”

“You may not,” his father said. “Your mother works hard to put together Sunday dinner each week. The least you can do is sit and suffer through it.”

His mother glared at her husband. “Suffer through it?”

“Sorry, hon. I didn't mean that the way it sounded.”

She rose. “I'd like Ryan's help in the kitchen, if you don't mind. There's still dessert to ‘suffer though.'”

Her sons protested that her tiramisu was nothing they had to suffer through, and they all offered to help.

“The only one I want in there right now is Ryan. Thank you for the offers, though.” She smiled at her sons and shot her husband a parting hairy eyeball.

“Oh boy, Dad. You really stepped in it,” Gabe said.

“Yeah.” Mr. Fierro placed his elbow on the table and cradled his chin. “I'll probably get the smallest piece and a lecture about my waistline.”

“Chief, may I talk with you privately?” Haggarty asked. “It's about Firefighter Arish.”

“Already?”

John Haggarty hadn't expected the district chief to drop in and welcome Chloe and Ryan to the firehouse personally, but now that he was here, seizing the opportunity seemed like the right thing to do.

“Uh. If you have time… It'll only take a couple of minutes.”

“Sure. I like to say my door is always open, except when it's closed. Looks like it's open at the moment.” He ushered Haggarty into the office he used when he was at this particular firehouse. His position covered more than one.

As they sat, John said, “First off, I want to thank you for hiring two firefighters. I know it couldn't have been easy to get the extra funding.”

The chief chuckled. “Don't worry. We'll have a bake sale or something.”

The guy seemed to be in a good mood, so Haggarty relaxed. “This is kind of related to that, actually. I was just wondering if Firefighter Arish's background check was…well…”

“Spit it out, Haggarty.”

“Thorough,” he said. There. He might not have to worry about his position in the department, but he still wanted to be sure he stayed alive. A petite female firefighter could never rescue his six-foot-two, slightly pudgy frame.

The chief leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands. “What makes you think it wasn't?”

“I don't know anything for sure, but one night me and the guys were out for a drink and Fierro came in. He was talking about the blonde being fresh off the boat. And just a little while ago, I asked her if she'd ever been to Trinity College in Dublin. She acted as if she didn't know the school. I thought it was world-famous.”

“Hmmm… It could be that she didn't travel much in Ireland. She's from Northern Ireland, you know. Have you noticed anything that can't be explained by individual preferences?”

“Well, maybe. When I was talking to a firefighter from District 3, he said his wife met her on the day she arrived—by boat.”

The chief shrugged. “And?”

“Well, I thought that was kind of suspicious. She hates boats. She turned down a fishing trip because of it.”

The captain laughed. “Ever heard of a white lie, John? She was probably just letting you down easy.”

“I don't think so, sir. Besides, I'm not the one who asked her. She said she'd be willing to do something else with the guys, but no boats.”

The chief frowned. “I really don't see what this has to do with her background check.”

He hated to spell it out, but the chief wasn't getting it. “Are you sure she came into the country legally? If someone hates boats and has to cross an ocean, they'd probably fly. Wouldn't they? Unless they didn't have a passport or were on a no-fly list.”

Chief O'Brien raised his eyebrows. “Are you saying you think she's an undocumented immigrant—or a terrorist?”

“I don't know, sir. I just wondered.”

The chief rose and strolled to the door. “Well, don't worry about it. All naturalized citizens are investigated thoroughly. Her documents were checked and nothing out of the ordinary was found.”

Haggarty realized the conversation was over when the chief opened the door. “Yes, sir.” He crossed in front of him and left, but the officer didn't follow. Instead he returned to his desk, and Haggarty was somewhat gratified when he saw him reaching for the phone. Perhaps he'd planted a tiny seed of doubt.

Hopefully he hadn't made it look like he simply disliked her and wanted her gone for that reason. He knew full well that working closely with other people was a crapshoot. Sometimes you liked each other and sometimes you didn't. As long as it didn't affect the work, the top brass didn't give a shit.

Maybe his next move should be to invite her to do something else with them. If he didn't like her, he'd avoid her company, especially on their days off, right?

When he reentered the kitchen, the guys seemed a little more interested in their new female probie than he'd expected them to be. Not just interested, but downright charmed. Chloe was smiling and seemed more relaxed than when he'd left.

So why did that bother him?

“Hey, Arish,” he said. “We hang out sometimes. Is there anything you like to do besides sewing circles and shopping?”

One side of her lip turned up slowly. “I'm not much for either sewing or shopping. Can't you see a woman doing anything else?”

“Don't worry. I won't ask you to go fishing.” He winked.

Ryan Fierro rose and approached him slowly. “She knows how to ‘hang out,' Haggarty.” He used air quotes and his tone sounded downright offended.

“Are you saying you and Arish are hanging out, Fierro? As in dating?”

Chloe snorted. “I won't be datin' any of me coworkers, boys. That's a recipe for disappointment.”

“I think you mean ‘a recipe for disaster,'” Ryan corrected her.

She looked at him wide-eyed. “I'd hardly call a bad date a disaster. No one should matter
that
much.”

The guys laughed.

Lieutenant Streeter spoke up. “I won't be asking. I'm married, and my wife is disappointed enough.”

More laughter filled the kitchen.

“So it sounds like you're expecting a date with a firefighter would be a disappointment,” Haggarty said.

Ryan whispered something to the guy next to him. It sounded like, “If he's genuinely thinking of asking her out, I can't wait to see her shut him down.”

“Not a'tall,” Chloe answered. “I simply wouldn't want it to be awkward, workin' alongside any of you fine fellows
if
things went pear-shaped. I imagine it might affect the workplace.”

“Pear-shaped?” Haggarty mumbled.

“You're probably right,” Ryan said. “But if things got that bad, one of you would be transferred to another house.”

“And I don't want it to be me,” she asserted. “I live within walkin' distance, and I like it that way. Drivin' around Boston
is
a ‘recipe for
disaster.'
”

They all laughed.

“You got that right,” Streeter said.

She looked up at John innocently. “So, what were you thinkin' when you mentioned hanging out?”

He shrugged. “I don't know. I heard you didn't like fishing when you were invited. So what
do
you like to do?”

She hesitated. “Up until now I enjoyed helpin' me brother remodel his B and B. But it's finished. I miss the physical activity.”

“We could go to a gym,” Ryan suggested. “Spot each other, lift weights. Maybe try out some equipment we don't have here at the station.”

Haggarty snorted. “That wouldn't interest me much. I like to box, but I won't be hitting a woman.”

Chloe seemed to perk up. “I'd like to see a first-class gym. The few donated things they have here wouldn't keep me occupied for long.”

“Great,” Ryan said. “I used to go to a place in the financial district. They had ProForm equipment, treadmills, hybrid trainers, Tour de France exercise bikes, ellipticals, and all kinds of weights. Anyone else know of something like that nearby?”

The quiet ones shook their heads, but Streeter suggested a place in Kenmore Square. “They have some good weight training equipment,” he said, looking directly at Chloe.

At that moment, the tones rang out. A dispatcher announced over a loudspeaker where they'd be going.

“Shit,” the lieutenant muttered as he jogged around the corner to where the pole was. “Probies, follow me.”

Chloe and Ryan grabbed for the pole at the same time. He stepped back and gestured toward it. “After you.”

“Ah, no. You go first,” Chloe said. “I insist.”

The lieutenant's voice boomed up toward them, “Is there a problem, Fierro?”

“No, sir,” he called down. He nodded to Chloe and she rolled her eyes, then grasped the pole and disappeared down below.

There was something going on between Fierro and Arish. John was sure of it. Some kind of not-so-friendly competition, and yet he seemed ready to jump in and defend her.

Haggarty hadn't been at this station very long and hadn't worked with the other female—or any female for that matter. He had transferred in when the woman was promoted.

And having women out of the way was the way he liked it.

* * *

The call turned out to be a false alarm. One of the area hotels had a smoke detector malfunction. Still, the fire department had to be sure, so they did a thorough check of the place. A lot of area businesses required regular inspections anyway, so it was good for Chloe to see what that entailed.

When they pulled back into the fire station, the lieutenant asked to see them both in the captain's office.

“Are we in trouble, sir?” Chloe asked.

“Not at all. I just want to address something before it becomes an issue. The other guys have already heard it, so you two are the only ones I need to talk to.”

She relaxed and followed him into an office strewn with paperwork and fluttering bulletin boards.

The lieutenant took a seat by one of the desks facing the window. Then he pointed out a couple of chairs they could drag over.

“Get comfortable. This is about having a female firefighter on the crew,” the lieutenant said.

“Oh.” Chloe was surprised. She thought…well, she didn't really know what to think. She'd hoped to be treated like any other firefighter.

“Relax, Arish. There's nothing especially wrong with having a woman around.”

Nothing
especially
wrong?

“But there are factors that need to be acknowledged,” he continued. He nodded to Ryan. “In your father's day, a female firefighter was rare. The few we have now still face some prejudice at times, and it's best to just get it out there.”

The lieutenant stretched out with his hands clasped behind his head, as if settling in for a long discussion. “As far as we know, the first woman to be paid for fighting fires was Sandra Forcier, who was hired as a public safety officer—a combination police officer and firefighter—by the City of Winston-Salem, North Carolina, in 1973.”

“'73, sir?” Ryan exclaimed. “Not until 1973?”

“That's right. Forcier moved into a fire-only position four years later. Battalion Chief Forcier, now Waldron, retired from Winston-Salem in 2004.”

He paused and looked directly at Chloe. “A lot of women have bravely faced situations that people have previously considered a man's responsibility. And that's what I'm addressing now. It's not your fellow firefighters, but the public at large who may view you with anything from awe to distrust.”

She nodded slowly. “I never gave much thought to the public not trustin' me, sir.”

“I know. The first time it happens, don't be shocked. Sometimes people in danger blurt out all kinds of stupid things. I don't think you have to worry about the guys here. They know you can do the job. You wouldn't be here if you couldn't.”

Ryan's eyes narrowed. “I don't know about that, sir. I've learned she can do the job, but the other guys haven't had a chance to see her in action yet.”

“Throughout training each of you were watched and tested carefully. The guys all know this, because they've been through it. And if women wash out, quite often it's because of their own fears and doubts.”

“I have no doubts, sir.”

“And from what I've seen,” Ryan interjected, “very little fear.”

She turned and smiled at him. It was the first time he'd ever acknowledged her bravery. He didn't know about her natural advantage—namely being a fireproof dragon—but it was still good to hear.

“So, you trust me now?” she asked.

“With my life.”

The lieutenant smiled, apparently satisfied that any rivalry he'd been warned about between these two wouldn't cause a problem.

“And I trust you, with mine,” Chloe said.
But not with my heart.

* * *

“Are you sure you're up for this?” Ryan asked.

Chloe had her gym bag over her shoulder and laughed. “Why? Did that little hotel fire yesterday tucker you out?”

He grinned. “What fire?”

“Exactly. I thought a big city like this would be a lot busier.”

“I know from listening to family members that it can be crazy busy. Sitting around and waiting for something to happen was the hardest thing about yesterday.”

“I'm looking forward to the physical exercise,” Chloe said.

“Me too.” He held open the door for her.

She had almost given up on trying to change his “ladies first” mentality. It seemed as if that was ingrained in his makeup. Obviously he'd had no sisters who were willing to run up and over his back to be first.

“So, what do you think of this twenty-four hours on and four days off schedule?” he asked as they waited for the elevator.

She laughed. “Yeah, the schedule is feckin' crazy. But I guess we hit it right. It could just as easily have been three or four days round the clock, and then a day off.”

“That would have been fine by me. I get bored easily.”

The elevator arrived and they stepped inside. Chloe didn't address his comment. It was hard to tell if it was his competitive nature again, or if he just meant it as an innocent comment.

She would see if his competitive streak showed itself again soon enough. They changed in their respective locker rooms and met at the weightlifting equipment.

As she spotted him, he lifted more weight than she thought the average man could manage. But Ryan was proving he was anything but average.

The weight he kept adding to the barbells was bordering on ridiculous. His skin glistened with a fine sheen of sweat, and she couldn't help noticing his muscles. Damn it all, her mouth watered.
Don't drool, Chloe. He has enough of an ego without you feeding it.