for Ethan. Was she trying to impress him? Was that it?
Yes, she was, and unfortunately she knew why.
White Knight Syndrome. When one person swooped in and rescued another from a life-or-death situation, the one who’d been rescued sometimes reacted with inappropriate feelings of affection for the rescuer. Sometimes those feelings were mistaken for love. She’d learned about it in one of her many psychology classes, and she’d also experienced the situation in real life.
All right, so it was natural for her to feel a bit gaga over strong, handsome fireman Ethan Basque. That didn’t mean she had to act on it. She had enough challenges to occupy her during the coming days and weeks. StrongGirls was expanding into its second phase, and what free time she had needed to be spent with Samantha. She did not have time for a man in her life.
CHAPTER THREE
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING with that torture device?” Tony was referring to the vacuum cleaner, which Ethan was running over his living room rug. Tony had come over to borrow some wrenches, and he’d stayed to kibitz.
“Cleaning?”
“Why?”
“Because it needs it.”
Tony sniffed the air. “I smell furniture polish. And your dishwasher’s running, too.”
Ethan turned off the vacuum and unplugged it. “Any law against that?”
Tony narrowed his eyes. “You got a girl coming over?”
Was it that obvious? “Kat Holiday is coming over to get her cat,” he said casually.
“Aha. I’ll get lost, then.”
“You don’t have to,” Ethan said, as he shoved the vacuum into a hall closet.
“But you want me to. You already said you don’t think I should hit on her.”
True enough. Tony had a way of overwhelming women—extravagant dinners, flowers, gifts, lavish compliments. All of it sincere.
He could fall head over heels for a woman in ten minutes. But his romances always burned hot and quick, then fizzled. Usually, the woman got tired of Tony’s devotion and dumped him, causing lots of despair and teeth-gnashing—until the next woman came along. And there was always another one.
Ethan didn’t want Kat to be just another of his friend’s conquests in a long line of them.
“The wrenches are with my other tools in the garage. You remember where the key is.”
Tony gave him a knowing look and sauntered toward the kitchen and out the back door.
Maybe Ethan would ask Kat out. Just a friendly low-key date. They could go to a ball game and include Samantha—if the child got over being terrified of him. That was something else he needed to worry about.
The doorbell rang at exactly ten. Not wanting to appear overeager, Ethan took his time getting to the door, Bashira draped over his shoulder. The kitten—who turned out to be orange, once the soot had been washed off—had spent a good deal of his time riding on Ethan’s shoulder.
Ethan schooled his face, then opened the door, and there she was, looking fifty times better than he’d imagined. She wore a skirt, revealing spectacular, bare tan legs, and a wispy blouse with flowers. Her abundant, chocolate-brown hair had been rolled into a loose coil atop her head, but several wild curls had escaped to frame her round, soft face, which reminded him of one of those Renaissance portraits of the Madonna.
She smiled when she saw him, but her gaze was on the kitten. “Bashira! Aren’t you making yourself comfortable.”
Ethan opened the door wider to let her inside. “He’s a handful. Gets into trouble, if you don’t watch him every minute.”
“Don’t I know it? Cat-proofing my apartment was more trouble than child-proofing.” She held out her hands, and Ethan transferred the kitten to her. She cuddled Bashira against her cheek, cooing softly. “Oh, your poor little kitty ears. You must have been so hurt and scared.” She looked up at Ethan, her big brown eyes suspiciously shiny, and he felt his knees wobble. “I can’t thank you enough for taking the trouble to rescue him. Samantha will be so happy to see him again.”
“Tony is really the one who rescued him.” Ethan didn’t want to remind Kat of Tony, but he believed in giving credit where it was due. “Where is Samantha? Is she doing okay?”
“She’s with her father this weekend, while I deal with stuff,” she said brightly, but then her smile faded slightly. “You can’t imagine how much there is to do.”
“You have five minutes for a cup of coffee, though, right? I just put on a fresh pot.”
She looked tempted for the moment, but then she shook her head. “I’ve got to find a new apartment.