Show Stopper: A First Responder Romantic Comedy (Chicago First Responders Book 1) Read online

  Her narrowed eyes snap to mine. “Seriously?”

  I try to muster up some charm in the beautiful face of animosity. “What I mean is, I haven’t seen you here before.” That earns a new quirked brow. She’s totally not going to make this easy for me. She’s a challenge, and I’m hooked on figuring her out.

  “Do you come to ladies’ night and try to use your big muscles and suave moves often? Or maybe you just say ‘I’m a firefighter; I’ve got a big hose and I know how to use it’ and wait for women to swoon and fall at your feet?”

  My lips curve into an amused smirk. “Would it work on you? Because my next move is to take them to the firehouse and show them my big truck. Then, if they’re really good, I’ll let them slide down my long fireman’s pole.”

  Her eyes widen, and I don’t miss the slight quirk of her lips. The fact I’m going toe-to-toe with her seems to have surprised her. It also makes me want to do it again and again.

  “Just so you know, I came tonight with my crew because we had a hard night last night. It just coincided with ladies’ night and some of them were coming anyway. I know the owner, so yes, I’ve been here a few times before, but I’ve never seen the ice queen in the corner shooting daggers at me all because she thinks I’m a player without any good reason,” I reply.

  “I’m sorry, but your friend is currently pawing all over my sister. I’m not sure the good-guy, knight-in-shining-armor routine you’ve got going on is gonna fly if that”—she points over to where Scotty is indeed acting like an octopus with Hayley—“is the kind of guy representing your crew.”

  “Scotty is one of a kind. He’s genuinely harmless, but he is good people.”

  “And what about you?” she asks curiously, her hazel eyes pinning me in place. God, that look on her face is doing bad, bad, good things to me. Something about her sass and attitude is hitting all the right buttons.

  “What about me?”

  “Are you a player?”

  “I don’t have time for games.”

  “Pity,” she says dismissively.

  I frown, completely confused. “Why?”

  “Because then I’d have a reason to throw a drink in someone’s face.”

  I scoff and shake my head. “So you’re judging me before getting to know me?”

  She turns and faces me dead-on. “Look. I might’ve been open to the idea, but Hayley is right, I’m not exactly gung-ho when it comes to guys in uniform. It’s probably better just to end our night here and now. I’m sure you’re a nice guy, Marco, but you might as well quit now and save yourself the trouble.” She returns to her perch, leaning into the table and watching the people dancing in front of us. Why is this woman so damn intriguing to me? I’m like a dog with a bone now.

  “You were interested though. I’m no expert, but you definitely liked what you saw when we met and tonight when I walked over.” I sound cocky, but I call things as I see them. That way, there’s never any confusion or miscommunication, whatever the situation.

  She shrugs, her mouth curving into a half smirk. “There was. You’re easy on the eyes, Marco Rossi. I won’t deny that. Any red-blooded breathing woman can see that you’re hot. But if your ‘crew’ are all like Scotty, all swagger and ‘men about town looking for fresh meat.’” She turns toward me and this time she unabashedly runs hers eyes over my chest, down to my legs and slowly back up again. “It doesn’t matter how good you look, or how well you fill those slacks, or how well you can use your hose, I’m not interested in being a notch on any firefighter’s belt. Been there, done that, lived to tell the tale. Now, if you’re going to stay here, can you at least stop trying to charm your way into my pants? That ship has sailed, Lieutenant, so save your well-practiced moves for your next target because your aim is well off with me.”

  I watch the words come out of her mouth, but the shaky resolve I detect underneath them catches my attention. This woman is a fighter, and god dammit, I’m always up for a challenge. Something tells me Renee will make a man fight for his right to stand by her side, but for a woman like her, you know the battle will always be worth it.

  There’s a spark there. She wouldn’t still be trying to justify all the reasons she shouldn’t even be interested in me—in the possibility of us—if there wasn’t. It’s almost as if she’s trying to convince herself. There’s definitely a story there, and I’m more determined than ever to find out what it is.

  “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m just going to the bathroom—I’m telling you this in case Hayley stops sucking face with the delightful Scottmeister and wonders where I’ve gone. If you’re still here when I get back, then maybe I’ll let you explain why you’re chatting me up when your wife/girlfriend/whoever she is stands over the other side of the room, grinning at us.”

  “She’s my sister. Did you really think I would flirt with you in front of another woman like that?

  “As I said, I have my issues with men in uniform.”

  Then I see my in. “Yet when you met me, I was out of uniform and saving you from face-planting into the front lawn. And . . .” I step a little closer, not wanting to press my luck, but I do love keeping this woman on her toes. Her breath catches, her chest rising and falling a little faster now. I keep going, dropping my voice to a low whisper for her ears only. “And did you think I’d leave you my phone number, offering to catch you, if I was viewing a house with a significant other?”

  She shakes her head and worries her bottom lip between her teeth.

  “And would I be here, standing in front of you, asking you out on a date if Skye was anyone but my sister?”

  “No . . .” she breathes.

  I decide to make a move. It might earn me a slap in the face, or it might just give me one piece of heaven to end this exchange on a high. I close the remaining distance between us, sliding my hand onto her hip and resting it there. When she doesn’t push me away, I press on. “So, sweetheart, how about you give me your number and let me call you tomorrow?”

  “Hmm,” she hums, sounding more than a little dazed. Fucking beautiful.

  “Renee, will you go out with me?”

  She seems to come back into herself. She takes a few steps between us and tilts her head, as if to study me.

  “Maybe,” she says with a shrug, like I’ve asked her something bland like, ‘How’s the weather today?’ or ‘Do you like pineapple on your pizza?’

  “Maybe not,” she says, winking at me before she straightens and heads towards the bathroom, leaving me standing there, suddenly alone and absolutely dumbfounded.

  That’s not to say my eyes aren’t glued to her fantastic ass as she struts away.

  Damn. That really did just happen. I was in, then she shot me down before I ended up with a maybe. I’m not sure whether to call that a win, loss, or draw.

  Renee looks back over her shoulder, her eyes locking with mine. I don’t miss her slight smirk And I definitely don’t miss the extra swing in her hips as she disappears from sight.

  I can’t wipe the grin off my face. The irony. She’s accused me of being a player when she was the one doing the playing all along.

  One thing is for sure. That woman just got a lot more interesting. I was already intrigued to begin with, and now more than ever, I can’t wait to find out more about the brunette goddess.

  I always said I wanted a show stopper.

  Something tells me, I may have just found one.

  3

  Renee

  Today is a big day. Word-of-mouth has me standing in the middle of a high-rise apartment in the Gold Coast neighborhood, being shown around by a woman named Gilly.

  “Your place is beautiful, Mrs. Baker.”

  She waves me off. “Mrs. Baker is my mother-in-law and as much as I love her, it makes me feel a lot older than I already do.”

  I snort at that, because Gilly doesn’t look a day over thirty-five and has a body with curves for days that you can just tell her husband enjoys—especially if her slightly mussed hair is anything
to go by.

  Her husband, Ezra, shook my hand and introduced himself, then weirdly said Skye had highly recommended me.

  It took me a few moments to remember where I’d heard that name before. Skye, sister of Marco. The woman he’d made sure I knew wasn’t his wife or girlfriend.

  Then Ezra had kissed his wife in a far-from-appropriate fashion, and told me Gilly was the boss and it was her decision.

  That was forty minutes ago.

  “Sorry. Gilly, what do you think about my plan for staging and marketing the property? If you were to proceed, of course.” Please say yes. Mama needs some new Jimmy Choos.

  She studies me for a few seconds. “I’m thinking it’s two o’clock, and we definitely need wine,” she announces, and my heart stutters for a moment. Then I can’t help the half smile that appears. “Will you join me?”

  “If it’s to celebrate signing with me, then absolutely,” I say, jokingly.

  She walks into the kitchen and pulls out a chilled bottle of white from the refrigerator, then pulls down two glasses from the overhead cabinet. “Of course it’s to celebrate.” I do a little jump for joy in my head. “But it’s also because my darling mother-in-law has both our two kids tonight, and I’m pre-gaming for a date with my husband.”

  “Nice,” I say approvingly. “A woman after my own heart.”

  She pours two very healthy doses of wine and walks around the kitchen island. She hands one glass to me and nods over to the balcony where there are two big outdoor couches facing the lake. Places like these make me love my job. Hayls would flip if she saw this apartment.

  “We love this place. Ezra has had it ever since his second divorce.”

  Internally, my eyes are bugging out of my head and rolling off the twentieth-floor balcony, but since I’m a professional, I don’t outwardly react.

  Gilly’s eyes dance with amusement. “Oh, you’re good,” she says with a smirk. “Yes. My darling husband—bless his heart—chose the wrong woman twice before getting it right the third time with me. And since I’m the one who gets to keep him now, I’d probably shake the exes’ hands if I ever met them.” A giggle escapes me. “But now we’ve got two kids and they need space, and we’re pretty well covered with rentals, so this is the first property on the chopping block—so to speak.”

  “It’s beautiful, and I’m not just saying that because I scored the listing,” I say with a wry smile. Gilly takes a sip of her wine, her eyes coming my way. “We’re actually planning on selling our two-story place in Wicker Park too, if you’re interested.”

  I have to bite my lip to stop my mouth from dropping open. Two listings in one day, and all because I tripped into a sexy man’s arms two weeks ago? What kind of sorcery is this?

  Gilly sits first, and I follow her lead. “So, what do you say about taking on both listings?”

  “I’d love to.”

  “Awesome.” She curls her legs up and seems to get comfortable on the couch, as if she’s settling in for a while. It’s lucky I have nothing else booked for today. ”Now, Renee. Since we’re in business together. Why don’t you tell me all about yourself?” I guess it’s not the strangest thing I’ve been asked by a client…

  “Okay. I’m thirty-four, and I’ve lived in Chicago for the past ten years.”

  Gilly nods for me to continue. Why is this weird?

  “Um . . . I live with my sister, Hayley, in a two-bed duplex I own near West Garfield Park.”

  “That’s a nice area. Friends of ours have flipped a few houses near there.”

  Wait. Surely not. “Do you mean Cook Construction?”

  Her eyes widen, her expression becoming animated as she bounces in the chair. “Yes. How do you know them?”

  “I’ve sold a few of their houses, actually. They do amazing work.”

  “That they do,” she replies. ”My sister married Jax Cook, and Ezra is an honorary Cook brother too.”

  A surprised laugh escapes my lips. “Wow. Small world then, huh?”

  “Definitely.” She nods. “Enough of the standard things. Give me something juicy about you.”

  I scrunch up my face. “Like what?”

  “I know,” she says, taking a sip of her wine. “If you had three words to describe yourself on a dating profile, what would they be?”

  Why are my Spidey senses tingling?

  “Does this have anything to do with me signing your listing?”

  She smiles. “Oh God, no. And it’s listings, remember?” She finishes her glass and stands up. “Hold that thought—I’ll just go grab the bottle and bring it out here. Ez will come by to get me so I’m not driving. We can always send you home in a car too.”

  I don’t know why, but her reassurance relaxes me. And Gilly seems lovely. Like someone I could be friends with if I didn’t work dumb hours all the time. Although, I will say this is the first time I’ve been subjected to a Spanish Inquisition at a listing appointment before.

  Then again, it’s a Friday, and I’m on the twentieth-floor balcony of a million-dollar apartment, so can I really complain?

  She walks back and does a sneaky top-up of my glass as she walks past. I definitely like her now.

  “Sorry if it seems like I’m interrogating you. I have two toddlers, so I’m used to drilling them for info for the fastest, most mess-saving response.”

  I snort. I can totally see that method has merit.

  “But I also spend a lot of time with those toddlers, so given the chance for stimulating adult conversation, I go for it.”

  I wave my hand in the air. ”I get that. Go right ahead. Ask me anything. Another glass of wine and I’ll be looser than a town bike on payday.”

  Gilly splutters and cracks up laughing. “You would get along with my sister, Ronnie. She’s full of crazy sayings like that too.”

  I tilt my head and shrug. “Hayley and I have made it a game to try and come up with the most outrageous similes we can. The more shocking and offensive, the better.”

  “I definitely like you more now,” she says. “So, c’mon, tell me. Where were you before Chicago?”

  “Milwaukee, born and raised.”

  “So old Chicago then?” she teases, her lips twitching.

  “Ah, spoken like a true Chicago sports fan. Let me guess: Cubs, Bears and Blackhawks till you die?”

  “Cubs—yes, ‘cause my husband would make me ex-wife number three if I didn’t. Bears—nope. I’m actually a Chiefs fan because hello, Patrick Mahomes is a god. And hockey?” She scrunches her nose up. “I can take it or leave it but Ezra is a diehard Hawks supporter and will probably wanna be buried in a jersey.”

  My lips curve up. “So sports is not that big in your house, then?”

  “Noooo, not at all,” she replies, both of us snickering.

  “Okay. To turn the tables, Packers, Bucks, and the Hawks. And Hayley works for the Chicago Fire soccer team, so I get dragged along to those games too.”

  Gilly’s brows lift up. “Interesting. So, what else is there to know about you? Do you have a husband, boyfriend, secret baby daddy somewhere?”

  “Nope, nope, and I’d know if I did.”

  “How? You’re hot, you’re funny, and you can obviously take care of yourself. Men love a strong, independent woman,” she says, looking me up and down.

  “You tell me and we’ll both know,” I say with a grin. “Honestly, I came out of a bad relationship a few years ago, and since then, I’ve been focused on building up my client list and networking. My mom was a typical stay-at-home housewife who was totally reliant on the man she was with, and I never wanted to find myself in that position. I’m all about equality and trust in a relationship. Without that, what have you got?”

  “See? And this is another reason I like you. You’re strong-minded and won’t let a man walk all over you. Take it from someone who rules the roost in her marriage—guys dig it.” She leans in. “They really dig it.”

  “Yes, yes we do,” Ezra says, appearing out of thin air and wrapping
his arms around his wife’s shoulders from behind. He looks my way. “Hey, Renee. Looks like my wife has inducted you into her little wine club.”

  Gilly looks up at her husband and kisses under his jaw. “I’m preparing for date night,” she says softly.

  Ezra turns and gives her a hard, fast but rather passionate kiss on the lips before straightening. “And Lord knows I approve of that.”

  I down my glass and stand, smoothing down my skirt as I go. “I better get going.”

  “Hey, don’t leave on my account. I need to do some work anyway.”

  Gilly looks up at me. “You don’t have to go. Ezra is used to hanging around girls. He has two sisters who used to talk his ear off growing up. And besides, we were just getting to the juicy stuff.”

  Ezra’s amused eyes drift down to his wife. The two of them share some unspoken conversation which awakens my Spidey senses again, but I have no idea why. Call it self-protective suspicion. “Sweetheart . . .” he grumbles affectionately.

  She holds her hands up in surrender. “What? Just a little recon, that’s all.”

  His lips twitch. “And we said we would stay out of it.”

  “Stay out of what?”

  “A few weeks ago, you met Skye and her brother at a house showing . . .”

  The penny drops. Is this Marco’s doing? He gave me two listings with big potential commissions, all to get me to go out with him?

  “Marco?” I ask. Granted, the man does intrigue me, and he has occupied my thoughts a lot since the club—more than I thought he would, anyway. But I’m not sure I’m comfortable with this play.

  Gilly’s head jerks back. “Oh, God no. Skye—his sister. She’s determined to play matchmaker with you two.”

  “Oh,” I say. Didn’t see that one coming.

  “Her heart’s in the right place, and we’re not signing with you because of that. Business is separate from our personal lives.”

  I breathe a sigh of relief. “Thank you for saying that. Now I’m just glad I didn’t tell you my deepest, darkest secrets.”