Page 2 of Airhead

Honestly, it was exhausting and Katie was just an observer.

“Earth to Katie,” Connie said between drinks. “Who made you shmile like thas?”

Katie schooled her face to something more neutral, because they were still early in phase one and Connie wasn’t yet drunk enough to miss Katie’s reaction to Frank Hartigan’s approach.

To buy a little time, she fluffed up her spiral curls and shifted her gaze to her sister. “What look?”

The ‘don’t-BS-me’ look that Connie shot Katie was a little wonky, because the gin, vodka, tequila, and Triple sec were starting to work their magic. “The one that says you’re about to do something stupid.”

Katie snorted. “I have never done anything stupid.”

Okay, that lie probably would work on the third graders she taught, but not on her twin.

“Puh-lease,” Connie said, rolling her eyes and then grabbing the edge of the table to steady herself, even though she hadn’t moved from her seat. “We shared a womb. I know you way too well for that.”

Bingo.

Her sister may have grody-to-the-max taste in men but she was otherwise a total brainiac. It really was the best and worst of both worlds.

Katie, on the other hand, kept things simple by ignoring the fact that men existed. Especially men who were firefighters at their dad’s station house. Most especially, men who were firefighters at their dad’s station house and had the last name Hartigan.

There were three Hartigans on the Waterbury Fire Department, but only one who worked at her dad’s station. He was the worst—the absolute totally to the max worst.

For her better judgement anyway.

He was also fast approaching their table, with two beer bottles and the cocky self assurance of a man who had to constantly bob and weave to avoid women throwing themselves at him. Even now, Sandy O’Shea had stepped directly in Frank’s path. She was acting as if she’d accidentally Cabbage Patched her way off Marinos postage stamp sized dance floor, but anyone with two brain cells would know that wasn’t the case.

Fine. Sure. Whatever. Katie could admit she understood why most of the women in Waterbury made a play for Frankie Hartigan. He was mountain man tall, professional wrestler ripped, and the knowing smile he sent a woman’s way promised all of the best things. And yes, Katie had spent some time wondering how he’d deliver on that promise.

In detail.

At night.

With her hand down her cotton, days-of-the-week panties.

She was a grown woman after all, and one time the mailman had delivered her neighbor’s copy of the International Male catalog to her apartment by accident and it had given her ideas.

Lots.

Of.

Ideas.

And that had happened the same day she’d stopped by the firehouse to say hi to her dad. And when she’d been left momentarily alone, and was gripped by nostalgia, she’d done something she hadn’t since she was a kid—she went down the fireman’s pole. But instead of her feet landing safely on the ground below, she’d slammed into Frankie and had nearly knocked him off his size twelve feet. Any other guy would have ended up kissing pavement, but not him. He’d done some James Bond spin move and ended up cradling Katie to his broad, hard chest.

It was, hands down, the hottest moment of her admittedly boring life.

So, she did the only thing she could. She’d squeaked out an apology and run home as fast as she could… where the mis-delivered International Male catalog was waiting for her.

Honestly, she was surprised she’d made it until after lights out to get some relief.

But that had been two weeks ago. This was now, and she’d long since thrown away the men’s lingerie catalog.

Was that even the right word for sexy men’s stuff? Did they call it lingerie? She had no idea, and it wasn’t like she could pop over to Randy next door and ask about the catalog she’d kinda sorta stolen from him.

No matter.

She was a stronger woman tonight. All she wanted was a free beer, and nothing else. Fine. Yes. She was lying to herself, but that was her right. If only she could lie to herself well enough that her sister would believe her. But judging by Connie’s questioning expression, Katie’s face wasn’t playing the part. .