Brianna Gallagher anxiously adjusted her new blouse and scanned the cocktail-hour crowd gathered on the terrace at the Seaview Inn. Her date was waiting for her somewhere in that group, and once again she'd dressed all wrong. Why didn't they teach "dating basics" in school? What to wear, what to talk about. Apparently plant hybridization and the dangers of the lack of biodiversity didn't cut it.
Yup, she'd learned that the hard way, watching Denny Benson's eyes glaze over the last time she was here on a date at the Seaview.
Shake it off. New day, new date. A blind date, in this case. This was a new thing her friends were trying. The element of surprise supposedly added a special twist of fun, like a wrapped Christmas present. This particular date had been set up by her friend at the hardware store.
"He's perfect for you," Gretchen had insisted. "He's strong, he's kind, he's good-looking, he's outdoorsy, he's good with his hands. And he's new in town. He claims he's not looking for a relationship, but I talked him into drinks at the Seaview with my awesome friend. So just go! Give it a chance!"
Stay positive, she reminded herself. This was supposed to be fun. She was sick and tired of being everyone's adorable little friend. At twenty-eight, you really didn't qualify for the word “adorable” anymore.
As she took in the inn's sophisticated Chardonnay-at-sunset crowd, the men in suit jackets, the women in flirty cocktail dresses with pashminas against the November chill, her heart sank.
Overalls, even made from raw silk the color of sage leaves, were not a good choice. She probably looked like a wood elf. And why had she worn a billowing, puffy-sleeved blouse under the overalls? She probably looked like a pirate wood elf. A tiny pirate elf about to stab herself with a fork.
She could practically feel herself shrinking as she stood there amid the laughter and chatter. Desperate measures were called for. As a smallish person, she'd learned a few tips over the years. "Superman pose" was one of her favorites. It always made her feel bigger and more in command. After all, she was a strong person used to digging in the dirt and moving flagstones with her bare hands. Could any of these people here move as many wheelbarrows of mulch as she could? She didn't think so.
She spread her feet apart and planted her fists on her hips. Puffed out her chest. Lifted her chin. Silently roared. I am a strong and confident woman. I deserve to be here.
"Ahoy, matey," said a deep, rumbling voice from somewhere over her head. Way over her head. "Should we board first or fire a warning shot?"
She snapped her head up to see her friend Rollo gazing down at her, a grin splitting his bearded face. Rollo Wareham was one of the new Jupiter Point Hotshots, the wildfire fighters who had recently moved into the Fire and Rescue compound. They'd gotten to be close friends, and he was guaranteed to tease her about this.
"Excuse me?"
"You look like Peter Pan about to take on Captain Hook. Like you need a cutlass between your teeth."
Forlornly, Brianna relaxed her stance. So much for Superman pose. "You'd better be glad I don't have a cutlass right now," she muttered.
His expression shifted. The laughter drained from his blue eyes, which she'd always thought of as unusually kind and soulful. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it as an insult. You want to board the Seaview, I'm right behind you. I got your back."
She waved off his apology. "Eh, don't worry about it. I'd rather be Peter Pan than Tinkerbell. And yes, believe it or not, I have been compared to Tinkerbell. Ridiculous, I know." Even though she'd grown into a normal-sized, if small, person, as a kid she'd been flat-out tiny. When she was eight, she'd given in to her mother's longing and dressed as Tinkerbell for Halloween. No one in Jupiter Point had ever let her forget that.
Rollo grinned, shaking his head. "Tinkerbell is always misrepresented. She's tiny but fierce. So, what brings you here tonight—" He broke off suddenly. "Wait a minute…are you here for…"
The same thought struck Brianna at exactly the same time. "You aren't here to meet…"
"…a blind date…"
"Are you?"
They stared at each other, then both burst out laughing. Rollo laughed until a tear came to his eye. It might have bothered Brianna if she hadn't been laughing just as hard.
"Third time this month," she finally gasped. "What is wrong with everyone in this town?"
Twice before, friends had thrown them together in very obvious match-making attempts. Once at a party, once during a double-date. "Don't they know we're friends? Oh, and Gretchen said my date's name is Roscoe."
"That's closer than she usually gets with my name. Once she called me Rob Lowe." Rollo ran one hand through his shaggy hair, which he'd brushed back from his face, making him look like a brown-haired Viking. "She staked a case of kitchen tiles on us being a perfect match. I guess I can relax now. Wish I hadn't bothered with this freakin' tie."
She surveyed him with frank appreciation. "Honestly, you look great, Rollo. It's too bad it's just me, because no sane woman could resist you." Rollo was a towering, wide-shouldered guy, built from solid, hard-packed muscle, and with his charcoal gray dress shirt and black trousers, set off with a silver-blue patterned tie that matched his eyes, he looked amazing.
"Thanks, Bri. You look…" His gaze swept over her outfit and he seemed to choke a little before he continued. "Adorable."
She rolled her eyes. "Don't bother, big guy. I know I look ridiculous. I saw this in a catalogue and thought, well, I know I look good in overalls because I wear them all day long. Honestly, I've never been let down by overalls before."
"I like the color," he volunteered helpfully. "Green. My favorite. I see a lot of green in my line of work."
"So do I. I guess we have that in common."
They smiled at each other. Honestly, she felt a lot better now that Rollo was here. There was something about his huge size and his kind eyes that she really liked. Not liked liked, of course. No, she and Rollo were friends; they could talk for hours about just about anything. She loved hanging out with him but the truth was, she had a hopeless crush on a different firefighter. She’d been hoping a date with someone else would distract her from that obsession.
He presented his hand to her. It was huge, like the paw of a bear. "Are you hungry? I'm starving. And honestly, I wasn't looking forward to sipping on a glass of wine and chitchatting before I could stuff food down my gullet."
"Are you asking me out?" she teased. "Because we already did this. Twice."
"Please don't turn me down. You're my favorite non-date of all time."
"And isn't that the story of my life," she grumbled. But she put her hand in his, amused by the way it completely engulfed hers, and followed the hostess to a corner table on the terrace.
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