On Second Thought(111)

So I tried to bring it on our date, in case he was thinking that I was a terrible mistake. I told what I thought was a pretty funny story involving my old job at NBC. It was a classic cocktail party story in my repertoire, in which a goat had gotten loose from a set and ended up falling asleep under Matt Lauer’s desk, making Matt scream when he sat down and the goat bolted past him.

“Nothing to say?” I asked when he just nodded at the end of the story.

He shook his head.

“Well, that sucks, because that was one of my best stories.”

“You don’t have to impress me, you know.”

“Well, I’d like to. It beats unimpressing you.”

“You’re fine the way you are.”

I almost sighed before realizing it was—possibly—a compliment. He looked at me from across the table, still in his suit from work, though he’d taken off his tie.

“If it makes you happy to talk, then talk,” he said. “But I like just being with you, too.”

Which he proved later, in bed. Twice.

It was funny, I thought as I drove home. My role in the relationship with Eric had always been to be charming and funny and bright and animated with him, with his parents, with his friends and coworkers.

Just being... I wasn’t a hundred percent sure how to do that.

But one thing was for sure. I was not about to turn myself inside out for Jonathan, or any guy. I’d based my life around Eric and our relationship. That wasn’t going to happen again. At least, that was what I told myself. Jonathan was my boss and boyfriend now, and it could be said quite truthfully that a huge part of my life was indeed based around him.

I pulled into Kate’s driveway, once again doing the walk of shame (though damn proud of it), went into the kitchen and screamed.

A very large man was there.

“Hey,” he said. “How’s it going?”

“Who are you, and why are you wearing my sister’s shirt?” I yelped.

“How do you know it’s your sister’s?” he asked calmly.

“Because Derek Jeter’s signature is on the back, and our dad got us those for Christmas a few years ago.”

He smiled. “I’m Daniel Breton.”

“Daniel the Hot Firefighter?”

He smiled. “One and the same.”

“And you’re here because...” My eyes widened. “Did you sleep with Kate?”

His smile grew.

“Holy guacamole! I’m gone for one night, and this place turns into a sex palace! Pour me some coffee and tell me what happened.”

He got another cup and poured. “Keep your voice down. She’s still sleeping.”

I melted a little. He cared about my sister’s sleep. I loved him already. Plus, he was freakin’ beautiful. In all the years I’d visited Kate in Brooklyn, I had only heard the legend of Daniel the Hot Firefighter.

The stories hadn’t done him justice.

“Say I was trapped in a burning building,” I said. “You burst in, you carry me out, I’m not breathing. Describe the mouth-to-mouth I’m about to get.”

He laughed. “Well, in reality, we’d use a ventilator mask—”

“Oh, come on! No reality. Please continue.”

“What are you wearing?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow.

“A very flimsy something, and my hair looks amazing.”

He grinned. Oh, mommy! That was a killer smile.

Just then, the kitchen door opened, and Brooke walked in. At the sight of Daniel, she stopped abruptly, horror flooding her face.

Oh, shit.

“Hey, Brooke!” I said, jumping up to hug her. “It’s so good to see you!” She looked blank. “How are the boys? They’re in camp, right? Kate said something about camp? Anyway, uh, do you know my, uh, friend? My friend Daniel? He’s my friend.”

It really sucked to be a terrible liar.

“Oh, he’s your friend,” Brooke said, her entire being sagging with relief. Clearly, she’d assumed the exact truth of the situation.

“Daniel,” I said, “this is Kate’s sister-in-law. Nathan’s sister.”

“You came to the wake,” she said, her eyes narrowing.

“Yes,” he answered. “I’m so sorry about your brother.”

“Daniel’s a good friend of the family,” I said. He gave me an odd look—I’d just met him, obviously—but mercifully didn’t contradict me.

“I need to talk to Kate about my parents’ anniversary party,” Brooke said.

“Right! That’ll be very...uh...yeah.”

Just then, Kate came into the kitchen looking exactly as if she’d been up all night making sexy time with a hot firefighter. Her long hair was tangled, her eyes were still heavy with sleep and she had a certain glow about her. (Go, Daniel!) She was barefoot and wore the silky short kimono I’d given her a few years ago.

She saw Brooke and lurched to a stop. Her eyes swiveled to Daniel.

If I was bad at lying, my sister was incapable of it.

“Hey, Kate!” I barked. “I ran into Daniel and asked him if he’d like to have coffee with me. Us. Here. Anyway, he came over. Sorry it’s so early! And Brooke’s here to talk about the anniversary party!”