Firefighter Daddy by Lee McKenzie Read Free Book Online

anywhere.”
    “Need some help?” his mother asked.
    “If you don’t mind, I would really love that. Mitch already offered to carry everything upstairs for me.”
    “Did he now?” No one else would have detected the subtle reprimand in her voice, but it was there.
    Mitch sighed. His mother could think whatever she liked, but he wasn’t doing all this heavy lifting out of some misguided sense of chivalry. He was doing it because…
    Rory chose that moment to bend over a box on the floor, providing him with a full-on view of the valley between her breasts. That was why he needed to spend as little time up here as possible. When he’d been married to Laura, he’d never looked twice at another woman. Now, his attraction to Rory felt wrong. Disloyal.
    His mother tracked his gaze and smiled.
    Damn. He quickly crossed the room and piled the boxes in an out-of-the-way corner. When he stood up, he banged his head on the sloped ceiling. Everyone laughed.
    He hotfooted it out the door and down the stairs, thinking, This is the thanks I get?

    R ORY SURVEYED THE ever-increasing pile of boxes and baskets full of her belongings. Mitch Donovan was doing almost too good a job of emptying out her van, and she was having trouble keeping up. Instead of asking her where she wanted things, he was stacking most of the boxes just inside the door. Other than his remark about her phone call earlier in the week, he didn’t seem to want to talk much.
    Miranda was sprawled on the floor with Buick, who had ventured out of his carrier but not much farther. “Can you hear how loud he’s purring?” Miranda asked.
    “I sure can.” Rory smiled at the little girl, once again regretting that she hadn’t made time to look at Miranda’s file. Given that Mitch and his daughter lived here with his mother, it seemed unlikely there was a wife in the picture. It wasn’t common for a father to have custody, but it wasn’t unheard-of. Or maybe Miranda was only here part of the time?
    “Is there something I can do to help?” Betsy asked after checking the fridge and stove to make sure they’d been cleaned properly.
    Rory hefted a box labeled Dishes onto the table and tore it open. “This is kitchen stuff. Would you mind unpacking it for me?”
    “Happy to.”
    “Great,” Rory said, feeling a little less overwhelmed. “I can’t wait to have everything organized.”
    Betsy unwrapped a set of blue-glazed pottery dinner plates and set them on an open shelf above the counter. “Do you do a lot of entertaining?” she asked.
    “Not really. I’m usually too busy during the school year and I like to travel during the summer vacation.” Was she worried about too much noise? “I won’t be having any wild parties up here.”
    “I didn’t think you would.” Betsy folded the newspaper she’d taken off the plates. “What about a boyfriend?”
    Mitch appeared in the doorway, added two more boxes to the pile, and hesitated as though waiting to hear her reply.
    “Oh…ah…no, actually…” The question caught her off guard, and knowing Mitch was listening made her feel strangely self-conscious. “I just moved to San Francisco so, um, I haven’t had a chance to meet anyone.”
    Betsy smiled as she hoisted another box onto the table. “I’m sure that won’t last. What do you think, Mitch? A beautiful woman like Rory won’t be single for long.”
    He looked as if he’d rather fling himself down the stairs than answer that question. “There are only a few things left in the van. I’ll just run down and grab them.” From the thud of his footsteps, it sounded as if he took the stairs two at a time.
    Betsy was still smiling after he left. “This is beautiful pottery.”
    “My mother’s neighbor made those dishes for me when I went away to college. I’ve always loved them.”
    Betsy turned the plate over and examined the potter’s mark. “I’m a potter, too, but I don’t make tableware.”
    “What kind of work do you do?”
    “Clay