A Firefighter in Her Stocking

&nbs

p; * * *

As Sarah helped Jude clear the table and load his dishwasher, his words kept running through her head.

Surprisingly, this was the first silence they’d had as they’d chatted away during dinner. Jude was a great conversationalist. He made intelligent comments, listened with eager ears, and responded with insightful observations.

The few dates she’d ever gone on had left her feeling awkward and socially inept. Eventually, she’d almost quit dating, because why bother? She wasn’t looking for a man in her life, knew what being involved with the wrong man could cost a woman, and didn’t appreciate giving up a night of her life to feel inadequate at the end of the evening.

The few times she’d made exceptions had never ended well.

For instance, the night interesting Kenny Goodall had asked to take her to her first Broadway show. She’d lost the glasses, donned mascara and lipstick, put on a decently fitting dress, and anxiously awaited what had promised to be a wonderful evening.

She’d never felt so mortified, unattractive, and convinced her mother was right in all her life as when she’d discovered he’d forgotten their plans.

Never again would she allow herself to be so humiliated at the hands of a man.

Nothing about her dinner with Jude made her feel inadequate, though. Quite the opposite. She’d enjoyed sharing the meal with him more than she’d have dreamed possible. Maybe because she knew there could never be anything between them.

The fact he’d seemed perturbed she’d written him off as not her type and given him her reasons why surprised her, though. Why would he care?

Sure, she’d felt heat when looking at him and he’d made flirty comments at the hospital and tonight, but the reality was she wasn’t Jude Davenport’s type.

He hadn’t bothered to deny that, had just questioned that he wasn’t hers.

Before having seen that different side of him at the hospital and tonight, she’d have said it was because he was so arrogant he assumed he was every woman’s type.

If gorgeous, intelligent, witty, and full of testosterone were the criteria, then he was.

Sarah glanced around the kitchen, surprised at how quickly they’d gotten everything cleared. Surprised at how amazingly stocked and spacious his kitchen was. She liked the granite countertops, the workstation island, and the stainless-steel appliances.

What she didn’t like was that now there was nothing to occupy her hands, more awkwardness was setting in.

“You want another glass of wine?”

Looking at him in relief, she exclaimed, “Yes!”

He must think her a total slush and she rarely drank. She’d just been grateful for something to do with her hands to ward off her own mental demons. She should leave before the awkwardness and inadequacy set in, reminding that she had nothing in common with him.

He poured her another glass, then one for himself. “Let’s sit on the sofa and look out at the city. It’s my favorite way to end a stressful day.”

So maybe they did have a few things in common. Besides chemistry.

Sarah sat, but couldn’t relax to enjoy the view as she had earlier because Jude sat down beside her. His body wasn’t touching hers, but he was closer than he should be since they were the only two people on his large sofa.

Why had he sat so close? If she took a deep breath, she’d probably brush up against his arm.

She finished off her glass of wine in record time, set the glass on an end table coaster, and stood. Enough was enough. She’d had a mostly enjoyable night with him and wasn’t going to ruin it by staying longer.

“Thank you for the delicious meal, for turning off my smoke detector, and for letting me enjoy your view.”

First placing his glass next to hers on the table, he stood, stared down at her. “You are very welcome, Sarah, but I should be thanking you.”

The intensity in his blue eyes about had her almost sitting back down because of wobbly legs. “For what?”

“Providing excellent dinner company and turning my night into something memorable.”

She hadn’t done that. Wasn’t going to do that. Was that what he thought she was there to do?