why she’d been hired.
“Put it exactly where she wants,” he said and turned to head back inside. He broke into a grin at the stark silence dogging his footsteps.
It had bugged him that Gilmore had given the final paramedic slot to a green newbie who had no business being on such a highly skilled squad. But now he knew that, instead of an old lecher hoping to pretty up the place, Gilmore was a genius. He’d already had a station full of experienced firefighters and medics. What he hadn’t had—and obviously knew he needed—was a skilled citizen liaison. And who better to get those citizens to support his costly creation than a woman who, as a real estate broker, had regularly talked people into signing away their lives on thirty-year mortgages?
That the woman also prettied up the place was merely a bonus.
Gunnar entered his office with a snort. Gilmore must have thought he’d won the lottery when Katherine MacBain showed up for her interview looking even more beautiful in person than she did on paper. After deciding she was perfect for the specialized position, the man had simply gotten around Katy’s lack of experience by getting her further training. And now that he had access to the books, Gunnar had found where the determined bastard had taken liberties with several accounts to pay for the expensive wilderness school he’d somehow managed to get Katy into within a week of hiring her.
So, hell yes, she could put that fire pit on the sidewalk if she wanted, if for no other reason than he wanted to see her in action. He just wondered if Miss MacBain realized she would be trying to win over taxpayers by inviting them to hang out with a bunch of antisocial jackasses.
Including himself.
Chapter Six
Unable to make himself leave, despite having no reason to stay, Gunnar sat in his darkened office later that evening, putting a dent in the bottle of single malt scotch he’d found in a file drawer while staring out the window at Spellbound Falls Fire & Rescue’s first community campfire—which appeared to be enjoyed by Katy alone.
He still couldn’t decide what he thought about the woman now that he’d finally met her. On the one hand, he could see Katy and Jane being best friends, bonding over growing up in a small mountain town, both of them appearing a bit . . . parochial. Jane he could understand, seeing how she’d been raised by nuns. And he supposed growing up in an equally sheltering clan might make Katy somewhat naive for her age.
But on the other hand, the two women were polar opposites. Jane topped out at five-foot-five. She was only now starting to shed some crazy “I’m just a nobody orphan” image of herself, and her idea of a good time appeared to be sticking her nose in other people’s business.
Katy, however, didn’t seem to have any doubt who she was, to the point she’d gone after a job for which she hadn’t been even remotely qualified. Probably it had surprised her that she’d gotten it, just as much as it had her family.
It had certainly surprised everyone on SFF&R, having been repeatedly warned in the last two weeks to be ready to pick up the slack when the new rookie hire arrived. Which could explain Gretchen’s behavior, though he also assumed the woman was never easy, even on a good day. Gunnar smiled at the thought of Katy calling the older medic “Madame Sunshine.” More like Madame Thundercloud.
Still, Gilmore might have been well-intentioned, but he hadn’t done Katy any favors by making it seem like she was hired for reasons other than her competence, at least based on the quiet whispers he’d heard around the station today.
Of course, the joke was on them. After telling them to put the fire pit exactly where she wanted, he’d gone back inside and stood at the window again, half expecting the men to simply walk away. But to his amazement, Russo had opened the tailgate, and every last firefighter had scrambled into the bed of the truck—causing Katy to scramble out of their way—and wrestled that heavy steel monster to the ground and over to the spot on the front lawn she’d indicated.
It had to be that damn smile. He didn’t doubt that, the moment he’d left, Katy had given the men the exact same smile she’d given him not five minutes earlier. It would have been just as sincere, too. Warm. Killer. And he