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

  “Believe me, even if you had, Gilly wouldn’t have shared. She’s of the firm belief you have to make a guy work for it,” Ezra says with a smirk.

  Gilly winks at me. “And look what happens when you do, baby daddy.”

  The soft smile Ezra shoots his wife is nothing short of dazzling. “Totally worth it.”

  “I do need to get going. But I’ll get my assistant to send you through the draft listing contracts and then we can schedule a coffee next week to sign them?”

  Gilly stands, putting her glass down as she does. She holds her hand out to me to shake. Ezra does the same, then she leads me back into the apartment and toward the front door.

  “I hope you didn’t mind the twenty questions,” she says cautiously.

  “Not at all. It makes sense now. Besides, it was more like five, not twenty.”

  “I was gearing up for some juicy ones, I swear.”

  I laugh at that. “Maybe next time. But maybe you can even the score by telling me something about Marco. A girl’s gotta have some ammunition under her belt.” Especially if I’m going to keep crossing paths with the man.

  She opens the door and taps her chin. “Hmm. He’s the oldest of five, Skye being the baby. She’s a paramedic. The others are a firefighter, a cop, and an aesthetician. They’re Chicago born and bred, and his mama makes amazing gnocchi.”

  “Damn.”

  “What?”

  “I’m a sucker for a good gnocchi,” I say.

  “You’re perfect for a Rossi man. Those boys have been tearing up the female population of Chicago for years, by all accounts.”

  My face falls and Gilly doesn’t miss it.

  “No, no. Not terribly. I mean . . . shit. You’d think, being a lawyer, I’d learn not to put my foot in my mouth.”

  “Hey. All the lawyers I’ve ever known have a tendency to do that occasionally,” I reply, trying to break the weird change in atmosphere.

  “I just know that men like that, with high-stress jobs and lots of testosterone around them, like to blow off steam. Skye holds her brothers in very high regard, though. She even held off hooking up with her now husband because they all work together, and those brothers are super-protective.”

  Now that I’d believe. “Okay, tell me this and I’ll let you report back to Skye anything and everything I said.”

  Gilly nods, fighting a grin. There’s no missing the fact she’s all in on this matchmaking malarkey. “Hit me with it and if I know, I’ll share.”

  “Is he single now?”

  Her head jerks back. “There’s no way we’d set any woman up for a fall, and there’s also no way any of the men in our lives—husbands, brothers, or otherwise—would ever cheat on a woman. They’re honest to a fault, protective as hell, and, the most fun part . . . they’re dedicated to the chase when they find the one they want.”

  “Hmm. Good to know. Then report back to Skye and tell her whatever you want. But if Marco wants me, then I’m all about being the chasee. If he wants the water, he’s going to have to come to the well and dip the bucket in.”

  We leave it at that, but my entire way home I totally overthink my decision. Then I decide, fuck it; Gilly has nothing to gain by playing up what a good guy Marco might be. Maybe it’s time I find out for myself.

  Once he makes the first move though. What kind of chasee would I be otherwise?

  4

  Marco

  Sunday afternoon and I’m walking into my parents’ house, feeling tired from my last twenty-four-hour shift.

  “Mama?” I call out.

  “In here, Marco,” my mother replies from halfway down the hall.

  In the kitchen, I find Mama, Skye, Cohen, and Valentina seated at stools around the center island.

  After greeting the girls with a kiss on the cheek and Co with a handshake, I move around to my mother and pull her in for a big hug.

  “It’s good to see you, son.” She shifts back and looks in my eyes. “You look tired though. You work too hard.”

  I smile down at her and shake my head. “You say that to all of us.”

  “A mother never stops worrying about her children. You know that, Marco Rossi.”

  “Except me. I never look tired,” Val says, glowing like she’s slept for twenty hours.

  “That’s the beauty of cosmetics,” Skye muses, earning a gasp.

  Val leans over and points her finger at her. “Take that back, brat!”

  That just makes Skye smirk. “If the concealer fits.”

  “Bit—”

  “Valentina Maria,” Mama growls in a scary ‘don’t mess with me’ tone, just as Luca and Gio walk in together, followed by Papa.

  “Who’s in trouble?” Luca says with a singsong voice.

  “Val,” Skye, Co, and I say in unison, making everyone except Mama and Val chuckle.

  “It’s always Val,” Gio says, walking over to said sister and ruffling her hair in the way we know she hates.

  “Be nice to my girl,” my father says, moving to Mama and kissing her temple.

  “Val or Mama?” I ask with a half grin.

  “Mama, of course. Always your mother, till the day I take my last breath.” He’s whispering by the end, earning a soft look from his wife.

  This is why I’ve held out for a show stopper. A woman worth anything life throws at you and then some. That’s why I’m almost thirty-nine and single, working up to three twenty-four-hour shifts a week, and living in a house with Gio. Luca used to live with us, but working and living together was a bit too much for both of us to cope with.

  Speaking of brothers . . . “Hey, where did you guys get to this morning?” I ask, switching between Gio and Luca.

  “We went for a run along the Lakefront Trail.”

  “You went for a run after your shift?” I ask Luca.

  “Yep. Like it’s hard,” he says.

  Skye snorts. “You guys are crazy.”

  Luca lifts his shirt and twists his shoulders from side to side, flexing his abs. “Gotta keep in shape for the ladies.”

  “Oh God,” Val groans. I just drop my head and chuckle, as does Dad.

  “And on that note, why don’t you all help me carry these plates through to the dining table so we can eat,” Mama says.

  A chorus of, “Yes, Mama” follows. I pick up a plate and my siblings follow, obeying Mama as we always do. With five out of the six of us doing shift work—and not always following the same schedule—we make sure to all get together for these meals so we can connect as a family.

  We’re all very close, so it’s something we never miss.

  Once we’re seated, Papa stands and says grace before we dig in and dish up our plates.

  “I heard you guys caught a big one last night?” Gio says, looking over at Luca and myself.

  I nod. “Yeah. House fire in a three-flat. Took most of the night to get under control.”

  Papa arches a brow. “Arson?”

  “Seems that way. We found evidence of an incendiary device, but the investigators will know more once they can get in there.”

  “Did everyone get out?” Gio asks.

  “Everyone that we knew about, yep.”

  Mama does the sign of the cross, making me smile. “Thank heavens.”

  “Are we all set for Marco’s birthday dinner next weekend? I’ve made the booking for seven p.m. and it’s the first day Luca and Marco are off-shift, which gives you two time to sleep,” Mama says, her soft blue eyes drifting around the table.

  “Sounds good, Mama,” I say with a smile. “I’m looking forward to it.”

  “And you chose Japanese this year. That’s exciting,” she says, almost looking excited at the prospect of a teppanyaki dinner.

  “And will you be bringing a date?” Mama asks, waggling her eyebrows at me, and I almost laugh.

  I shoot her my best adoring son expression. “You know you’re the only woman in my life, Mama,” I say, earning groans from everyone except Mama, who sighs, and my father, who chuck
les.

  “So, Val. How’s online dating going?” Skye asks. There’s no missing the twinkle in her eye and I know she’s trying to stitch our sister up.

  “It’s fine . . .” Val answers, drawing out the words.

  “And your date on Friday night?” The little brat is in fine form today.

  “Oh, Valentina. You didn’t tell me you were seeing someone,” Mama says, jumping all over this conversation—just like Skye intended.

  If looks could kill, Skye would be seriously injured by now as Val’s eyes cut through her.

  Her expression is all business when she looks down the table at our mother. “We’ve only been out a few times. We’re still getting to know each other,” she replies, rather diplomatically.

  “But he must be a good man to catch the eye of our daughter. You wouldn’t give someone the time of day unless he was worth your time,” Mama says.

  Val’s cheeks turn pink and she studies the green salad on her plate. “He’s okay.”

  I glance across to Gio, Skye and Cohen, sitting opposite me, and note they’re all either smiling or quietly laughing.

  Unfortunately, that’s when Skye moves on to her next target—me.

  “Marco, I forgot to tell you. We saw Gilly and Ezra yesterday, and they’ve signed both the apartment and their house with your favorite realtor.”

  My head snaps up before I can catch my reaction. “What?”

  Val leans forward in her chair and turns my way. She’s probably just happy the spotlight has shifted onto me. Just my luck. ”Now, this sounds far more interesting. Who’s Marco’s realtor?”

  I go to say something but Skye beats me to it. “So two weeks ago, I asked Marco to come with me to look at a house I’d seen for sale that I thought Co and his brothers could flip.”

  “Okay . . . but that’s doesn’t explain why she’s Marco’s realtor. Are you planning on selling?” Val asks, adorably clueless as always.

  Luca snorts beside me, earning a quick elbow jab in return. “Ouch. Motherfu—”

  I turn and glare at him and he wisely shuts up.

  “Renee’s his realtor because Marco here has taken a bit of a liking to her in the two times we’ve seen her,” Skye says, leaning back in her chair and grinning like the Cheshire cat.

  “Twice?” Mama asks, her gaze firmly locked on me.

  “We ran into her when we went out for drinks last weekend,” I reply. Skye—still in the mood to drop me in it—keeps going.

  “We went to Throb for crew drinks. You know, the nightclub that’s also a—”

  “It was ladies’ night, Mama. We went to relax after a tough week and also support Scotty,” Luca says.

  That earns snickers from us kids since that’s a very diplomatic way of putting it.

  “Hang on,” I say with a frown. “How did Gilly and Ez know about Renee?”

  “Renee’s a nice name,” Mama murmurs, and I try not to throw a potato at Skye’s head.

  Skye doesn’t answer and by the apologetic look Cohen’s sending me, I know I’m not gonna like this.

  “Skye . . .” I grumble, low and menacing.

  Her guilty eyes meet mine. “I just thought I’d recommend her. She was really nice, and you guys seemed to get along well so I . . . put in a good word for her with Gilly and Ez, and then Gilly might have—”

  “Matchmaker Skye strikes again,” Luca muses under his breath. She looks away but I’m not in the mood to let this go.

  “What did you do, Skye?”

  “We just wanted to make sure she was good enough for you,” she blurts out.

  “You don’t think it’s up to me to determine that?”

  Skye’s eyes flash and I know it’s on like Donkey Kong now. “And what were you doing about it, Marco? Huh? Have you got her phone number? Have you asked her out? Maybe made your interest known? Because we could all see you were both into each other at the club, and you still ended up coming back to our table . . . alone.”

  “Brat, my love life is exactly that. Mine.”

  “Aha. See? You do like her,” Skye shouts, jumping to her feet. “I knew it.”

  I can’t help but smile at that. Everyone else around the table laughs.

  “So, little sister. What did Gilly find out about Marco’s realtor?” Val asks, leaning forward.

  “She’s from Milwaukee, and—”

  “Stop. I don’t wanna hear this from you,” I say, softening my voice. “If I wanna find out things about her, I’ll ask her myself.”

  “I was just trying to help,” Skye says, batting her lashes and looking at me with her big blue eyes that she knows have done a number on me since she was born.

  “I know,” I say, my lips twitching. “But does she know that you recommended her and probably put Gilly up to interrogating her?”

  Skye grimaces. “She guessed.”

  Of course she did. She’s not an idiot.

  “And when was this?”

  “Friday.”

  I groan. “Shit, Skye.”

  “Language, son,” Papa says.

  “Sorry, Mama,” I say, looking down the table at her before returning my eyes to my baby sister. “I guess now I will have to message her to apologize.”

  “Or you could just ask her out,” Cohen says. “She’s not hard on the eye, Mar.”

  Skye shrugs. She’s not one of those women who scolds her husband for stating the obvious—and Cohen knows it.

  “Send her flowers,” Mama suggests. “Women love surprise flowers.”

  Valentina shakes her head. “Mama, I love you, but flowers from a man you’ve met twice and haven’t gone on a date with, let alone given your address and/or phone number to? Nope. That’s just a little stalkerish.”

  Luca frowns. “Then how is he supposed to apologize?”

  “He doesn’t,” Val says with a shrug, looking my way. “You don’t apologize for your baby sister wanting the best for you. Just tell her the truth and roll with it.”

  “Well, huh,” Gio says, sounding just as surprised as I am, because that’s exactly what I was going to do when I got home.

  Skye nods in agreement. “Gilly answered her question about you too.”

  My head snaps to Skye. “She asked about me?”

  Mama giggles. “Ah. Good call, Skye. My Marco is interested in her.” A low hum of amusement goes around the table.

  “She asked whether you were single. Gilly made sure Renee knew you were a good guy,” Skye replies, answering my unasked question.

  “Well, of course he is. He’s a Rossi,” my dad says, leaning over and patting my shoulder. “Any woman would be lucky to get a Rossi man.”

  That earns a proud smile from Mama, giggles from the girls, and amused headshakes from the boys.

  Whereas me, I just groan. Lord help me.

  My only hope now is that Renee is the understanding, give-me-another-chance type of woman.

  Then again, I’ve never been one to shy away from a challenge.

  Which is probably why later Sunday night, I’m sitting in my leather recliner, the Cubs playing a game on the West Coast on the TV in front of me, and my phone is in my hand. Renee’s number is on the screen after I looked it up online.

  Since Gio is working, I can’t ask him whether to send a text message or call her, so I decide Rhodes is the best person to give advice.

  He was married for fifteen years to his high school sweetheart. Lily tragically passed away from ovarian cancer five years ago. That left Rhodes as a single dad to a now fifteen-year-old son. He’s one of the smartest, most loyal, and selfless men I know, and one of my closest friends.

  “Hey,” he says.

  “Hey. You free to talk?”

  “Is the Pope a Catholic?”

  “And is Scotty the idiot who actually had to stop and think about that one?”

  “You know it.” He laughs. “But yeah, you’re all good. Jake and I are just chilling on the couch watching Days of Thunder.”

  “Kicking back old school, th
en?”

  “Every guy needs to see Tom Cruise in his heyday.”

  “Truer words have never been spoken.”

  When comfortable silence falls between us, it’s not long till Rhodes gets straight to it. “C’mon. Spill.”

  “So this is gonna sound totally lame but should I text Renee or call her?”

  “Wait. Renee? The realtor? I thought you didn’t get her number,” he says.

  “Ah, yeah . . . well, the brat decided to play matchmaker and do some undercover reconnaissance and got Gilly to secretly interrogate her but wasn’t very good at it. Now Renee knows Skye was meddling, and I know Skye meddled. So I looked up her number.”

  “You were going to call her anyway.”

  “I was. This week. I was going to turn up at one of her listings and ask her out again, and this time make sure I get a yes.”

  “Text her, Uncle Marco!” Jake yells out in the background. “It won’t freak her out as much. It won’t be as awkward as an unsolicited phone call either. Just don’t send a dick pic as a conversation starter; you might not get the answer you’re hoping for.”

  Then both father and son crack up laughing, as do I.

  “So now I have a fifteen-year-old schooling me on dating,” I say with a grin.

  Rhodes chuckles. “Hey. If I ever decide to date, I’ll probably be asking Jake for advice too.”

  “Ha ha, Dad. You, date!” Then Jake’s uncontrollable laughter filters down the line again.

  “Smart kid,” I muse.

  “Yeah. Sometimes he’s too smart.”

  I smile at that. Rhodes has done an amazing job with that kid. It’s been those two against the world, with help from Rhodes’ parents so he could still work and support Jake. Everyone from the firehouse chipped in whenever and wherever they could, but any less of a man might’ve let their world crumble around them. Rhodes has stayed strong—in public anyway.

  “I better go so you guys can finish your movie.”

  “And you go google the lovely Renee and somehow explain why your baby sister felt the need to play matchmaker.”

  Yeah, there’s that too.

  “Got her number. Now I just need to send the message.”