Page 13 of Chasing Mr. December

“Quinn is working in PR and has been tasked with improving tourism in Magnolia Point. She’s also going to tackle trying to boost the reputation of the fire department., and hopefully our revenue. She was going over the details of a firefighter calendar that’ll be used to raise funds for the station as well as pets waiting adoption at the local shelter,” Layton explains.

Out of the blue, she spins on her heels and looks at Layton animatedly. “Oh, this is perfect.” As if they’re both in on the same secret, they simultaneously break out into a huge grin. “We were short our last month. Now you can—”

“No!”

Quinn

Wow. Rude.

Is he quick to say no because he considers this degrading?

Or because it’s me?

I’m well aware he hasn’t returned to Magnolia Point since the rift with my brother unless to visit his dad and then leave. I have to admit, it’s always felt as if his anger was more directed at Ian than Corinne.

Does he still have feelings for her after all of this time?

Does he still harbor resentment for my whole family? I’d never speak ill of my brother, even if I’ve always felt he was in the wrong. But Jason has to know I’m only guilty by association. Brother or not, I’d never agree with what they did.

I can’t help but wonder if he’s aware she and Ian are embroiled in a messy divorce. Well, now’s certainly not the time to bring that up, I muse.

“Look, Layton. I’m only helping out around taking care of Dad and the Christmas tree farm. Once he’s on the mend and can handle things on his own, I’m out of here. I need to get back to my station at Sycamore Mountain. The timing of my dad’s fall couldn’t have happened at a worse time. So, you’ll have to find another calendar boy. Or girl,” he sneers.

Jeez. I knew from all accounts he’d likely be testy if I ever saw him again. But this Mr. Grumpy Pants routine is a bit much. I mean, it’s not like I asked him to pose nude. Heat instantly flushes from my neck to my cheeks before I can stop it.Get it together, Quinn.You can dream about this new version of your teenage dream once you’re in the privacy of your own home.

“There’s no time to find someone else,” I blurt. “It’s just one picture. You wouldn’t even have to wear a Santa hat.” I continue rapid fire before my cheeks can get any more red, picturing him in nothing but a white-trimmed red stocking cap.Gah… delicious. “And it’d be a great help to the station as well as the shelter.”

“Then get one of the hounds to be Mr. December,” he barks angrily.

I instinctively step back and grimace at the bitterness in his tone. He’s all hard lines and resentment as he stands before me. Nothing like the boy I knew. I’d been stopping by to see his dad over the years. He and my father are close, and I knew he had to get lonely with his wife gone and his kids in other states. He rarely mentioned Jason. I always assumed it was due to the fallout from years ago. I never wanted to pry. And honestly, there was a selfish part of me that didn’t want to hear he’d moved on with someone in North Carolina. Unrealistic or not.

My gaze returns to the gruff hottie in front of me. I guess I have to consider a pup may end up being my only option. Until then, I’m bound and determined to chase this stubborn man until I have no other choice.

Chapter 9

Quinn

Callie and I return several days later to meet with the guys regarding detailed plans for the calendar shoot. Let’s just hope this goes better than when Jason inserted his opinion.

“You need me to carry anything?” I ask watching my sweet friend carefully lift the white confection box from the back seat.

“No. I think I’ve got it.”

“Callie, those cupcakes look amazing. Let’s hope the way to a man’s heart really is through his stomach.”

As we walk inside, I’m pleasantly surprised to see a room full of firefighters as we all greet one another. Without doing a formal head count, it appears there are at least ten in attendance.

“Quinn, how are ya?”

“Hey, Layton. I’m good. Excited to get things under way.” He’d advised when we confirmed this meeting that he’d mentioned the plan to proceed with the calendar, and everyone, including Mary and Pete, was excited to participate in any way that might bring funds and positive attention to the department.

Everyone but Jason, that is.

“And they aren’t meatball subs, but they’re close.” I giggle as Callie opens the box to reveal cupcakes decorated with meatballs in airbrushed “sauce” and sprinkled with white chocolate shavings resembling parmesan cheese. I swear, you have to look twice to make sure they aren’t the real thing.

“Holy shit, Callie. You made these?”

“Yes.” She beams with pride. As she should.

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