Book 2: The Mountain Firefighters
Twins for the Mountain Firefighter
A bachelor’s life…
Because of a not-so-happy childhood, Logan McCall never wanted kids. His sister’s dying wish was that he raise her twin girls. Paralyzed by grief, Logan turns the girls over to their deadbeat dad. He’s regretted that decision ever since, but what can he do? They’re gone.
A nanny with dreams…
Nanny Thea Gayle is just trying to make ends meet while she works on her PhD. When her employer goes missing and the only family member she can find is the twins’ Uncle Logan, she takes the girls from Seattle to Silver Bend, Idaho. But once there, she’s not sure Logan is up to caring for the girls or his elderly aunt. What’s a nanny with a school deadline looming to do?
A traditional, clean romance with no cheating, no cliffhangers, and a guaranteed happily-ever-after
Tropes: single dad, twins, firefighter romance, women’s fiction, adventure romance, traditional romance
Excerpt:
Thea thrust her free hand in his direction, drawing him forward. She pumped his hand vigorously, until she realized how nicely his large hand felt wrapped around hers—callused, warm, comfortable. His friendly grip was at odds with the melancholy expression in his eyes that said stay away, keep your distance, don’t want any.
Against the play of light and green shadows of fir trees, Logan McCall looked magnificent as he stared down on her. He had soot-streaked angular features and eyes as blue as the cloudless sky above him.
They stared at each other across an awkward bit of silence while Thea struggled for something to say, which was unusual for her. She was seldom at a loss for words. Stories to ease the mood and aim attention away from herself usually came easily to her lips.
It’s those eyes of his, so blue, so sad.
She dropped his hand and they entered the house. The clock ticked on the living-room mantel. Thea could hear Aunt Glen talking to Tess and Hannah in the kitchen. Whizzer circled the hardwood floor behind her before plopping down with a big grunt.
“I’m grateful for your hospitality, not that you extended it.” Thea wished the girls would realize their uncle was home. “We had quite a time finding you. It seemed like the whole town took us in, until it was decided we stay here.”
The gorgeously grim-looking firefighter stared down at her with distant eyes. It was clear that he’d come directly from a fire. He wore a yellow button-down shirt in need of a washing, dark green khakis and grimy work boots. Her fingers itched to touch the Nomex fabric his clothes were made of. It was fire resistant, an advance that she’d explored in a section of her textile studies.
As they continued to stare at each other, Logan’s golden eyebrows hovered low over those attractive peepers, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. She bet women far and wide fell at his feet begging to be lost in the deep blue of his gaze, which was compelling despite his obvious reluctance to smile.
Here was a man who didn’t need anything or anybody. He could pick and choose which women he spent time with. And she’d bet Whizzer’s kibble that he was choosy, all right. He was the type who didn’t give her a second glance, with her plain features, plain coloring and plain body. Heck, he didn’t think enough of her to speak to her.
Or it was as Lexie had implied. Logan was too burdened with grief to care about much of anything.
Thea sighed, telling herself it was a good thing that Logan didn’t think much of her, even better that he didn’t need her. She’d fulfilled her obligation to the twins. She had to get back to Seattle and her study schedule.
She slid her cold hands in the pockets of her jean jacket and retreated farther into the house. Thea was so intent on keeping her distance from the man that she missed his question.
“If it’s money you want, you’ve come to the wrong place.” Logan spread his hands, palms up, his gaze burning with hurt and accusation. “I’m just a poor Hot Shot.”
Logan McCall didn’t want anything to do with optimism. If anything would work with him, it would be sarcasm, something Thea avoided. Only, all that intensity directed at her from those blue eyes was disconcerting. And her mouth engaged itself before she had time to heed her own advice.
“You’re a hot-who? Is that like some sort of male stripper?” At his startled expression, Thea continued, rolling her eyes dramatically. “Because I’ve only met one male stripper. His name was Cowboy Temptation, but I don’t think he was a real cowboy. I mean, he wore a holster with pop guns.”
Logan’s jaw worked. “I’m a Hot Shot.” He emphasized each word carefully, then added, “A wildland firefighter.”
Too shell-shocked at herself to answer intelligibly, Thea could only echo, “Wildland?”
“My team fights forest fires. I’m not a city firefighter.”
“Oh, I get it,” she said, playing the dumb brunette because he might be the kind of hero who wanted to come to the aid of a helpless woman. “You put out fires in parks, like Yellowstone.”
“Close enough.” The firefighter chewed on the inside of his cheek.
Thea’s conscience tsk-tsked her. He’d been showing all the signs of a man shadowed with grief. Now she’d upset him even more with her “don’t worry about little old me, my IQ hovers safely below yours” routine. He didn’t know if she was ditzy, kidding or seriously intellectually challenged. That tended to yank the carpet out from under a guy.
“You really shouldn’t do that,” she found herself saying as she studied him.
“What?”
Because she was a touchy-feely person, Thea came forward, and stroked his jaw with her forefinger. His skin was stubbled and rough to the touch. Of its own accord, as if entranced by the texture of his cheek, her finger continued to trail over his skin.
The Hot Shot froze.
Holy moly.
Mortified, Thea snatched her hand back, oh so aware that her finger had started to stray toward his lips. She never reacted to men this way, as if she were a brazen woman of the world. For crying out loud, she was Thea Gayle, dateless Ph.D. candidate. Everybody knew that. Happy, harmless, lonely Thea Gayle. Well, that last lonely bit was her descriptor, but in the dating world, she was definitely not a player.
The Story Behind the Story
This entire series is about the kind of man I knew when I was in my twenties. Guys who got into relationships before they were emotionally ready or avoided relationships because it was just too fun to be single.
I wrote these stories to explore the emotions - messy ones - that have to be aired out before both parties grow up (and I mean this is a good way). Logan lost his twin sister and in his grief, he’s been unable to take guardianship of his nieces. Until the job is forced upon him.
My step brother was a Hot Shot. You’ll find many stories here that reflect his experience.
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