way with her son. Still balancing the heavy tray on one hand, he ruffled Kevin’s hair with his other hand.
“Do what your mom said,” he urged Kevin. “I need to take this tray where she wants it, before she docks my pay.”
Kevin giggled. “You don’t work here.”
“Not usually,” Sean agreed. “But it’s always good for a man to help out a lady, even when she doesn’t think she needs any help.”
Deanna caught the subtle message about her independent streak. She didn’t say another word as Sean carried the tray across the room. She noted that several fascinated gazes followed his progress. Well aware of how the elderly regulars liked to take an interest in her social life, she knew she’d be hearing about the incident for days to come.
“I can take it from here,” she told him when he’d set the tray down.
Sean glanced at the tray, which held only specials. He winked at the elderly woman closest to him. “I imagine this is yours,” he said, then leaned down to whisper. “She doesn’t think I know what I’m doing, so help me out here okay?”
Mrs. Wiley beamed at him. “Crazy girl,” she said with a tsk for Deanna’s benefit. “I can’t imagine what she’s thinking, turning down the help of a big, strong firefighter. You put that plate right here, young man.”
Deanna stood back while he served all four women, who were giggling at his teasing as if they were thirty years younger. When all the dinners were on the table, he stood back and surveyed the results with evident pride.
“Not such a bad job, if I do say so myself,” he said. “I didn’t spill a drop.”
“Only one problem,” Deanna noted mildly, barely containing a grin. “These dinners were destined for that table over there.”
She gestured toward two couples who were watching the scene from the next table. Three of the four looked amused, but the fourth looked as if he were about to burst a blood vessel.
Mrs. Wiley patted Sean’s hand. “Oh, don’t mind them, young man. You did a fine job. We’ll send over a bottle of Joey’s house wine and they won’t complain.”
Sean looked chagrined. “I’ll buy the wine,” he said, turning to the other group. “Sorry. I was trying to be helpful.”
Amazingly, Mr. Horner, who usually complained about everything, simply shrugged, his anger defused. “Long as you don’t expect a big tip, I imagine we can wait.”
Sean winced and turned to Deanna. “Sorry.”
She was tempted to make him squirm, but he looked so miserable, she relented. “He’s a lousy tipper, anyway,” she whispered. “By the way, I see that Joey has cleared that table for you. It might be a good idea if you went over there now before I lose all my tips for the night.”
Sean retreated to the table where the other firefighters had been seated. Deanna had deliberately sent them to a table that was not part of her station, so she could escape Sean’s watchful gaze. Let Adele cope with them. There hadn’t been a customer born who could fluster her.
The tactic was only partially successful. Deanna still felt Sean’s gaze following her as she worked her way between tables, joking with the customers, carrying orders from the frantic kitchen and helping to clear tables for the line of customers waiting to be seated.
It was so busy for a couple of hours that she was only dimly aware that the firefighters didn’t seem to be in any big rush to leave. Hank had slipped away from his table and joined Ruby, trading places with Kevin, who was basking in the undivided attention of Sean and the other firefighters, all of whom were being incredibly patient with his endless barrage of questions.
By eight, the crowd finally started to thin out. Those remaining were lingering over coffee and Joey’s chocolate cannoli. Satisfied that things in the dining room were under control for the moment, Deanna slipped onto a stool in the kitchen and kicked off her shoes with a sigh of pleasure.
“It’s about time you had a break,” Sean said, appearing beside her with a frown on his face. “Have you eaten?”
“I grabbed something earlier,” she told him.
“Earlier when?” he asked, his skepticism plain. “Lunchtime?”
“Actually I had some salad not more than twenty minutes ago.”
“Meaning she grabbed a carrot on her way through the kitchen,” the cook chimed in helpfully.
Deanna scowled at Victor, who was ogling Sean with frank appreciation. “Traitor,” she accused him.
Victor grinned. “Given a choice between you and your