Small-Town Fireman. Allie Pleiter
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encouragement. “I’ve sworn off women with hard-driving ambitions. Besides, she’s going back to Chicago as soon as she can manage it.”
“Maybe not, if you give her some good reasons to stay.” Jesse slid his bag back onto his shoulder. “When’s the next Coffee Catch thing?”
He almost didn’t say, worried his pal would show up and do something everyone would regret. A talented tenor, Jesse had a regrettable habit of breaking into song at inappropriate times. “Next Tuesday.”
Thankfully, Jesse turned toward the locker room door. But not before calling “More fat-walleted businessmen?” over his shoulder.
“Nuns.”
Jesse spun around to stare wide-eyed at Jesse. “What?”
It was the truth, but Dylan immediately realized he should have made up something else. Jesse would never let something like this go. “The sisters of Saint Cecilia’s,” he explained, applying his “don’t get started” face. “They’re on retreat. They booked a fishing expedition and evidently they like good coffee.”
Jesse clapped his hands together, walking back toward Dylan. “Ha! Buddy, you’re in. Nuns. They’ll love you. Not a speck of competition in sight. It’s a sign from above, I tell you.” He laughed. “Fishing nuns. Only you, McDonald, only you.”
Dylan felt compelled to defend the good sisters. “Hey, they sound like nice people. They’ll probably be a lot less trouble than this morning’s captains of industry, that’s for sure. Those guys were high maintenance.” He paused and blinked. “Can a guy be high maintenance?”
Jesse picked at the denim shirt Dylan had on. “It’s not like you’d ever know.”
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