Free Firefighter Daddy by Lee McKenzie Page A

Rory’s dress. “Are these the shoes you’ll be wearing?” she asked.
    “These or something similar.” Since she had to take Jess shoe-shopping, she might as well look for a new pair, too.
    Nicola lifted the edge of the voluminous skirt and studied Rory’s silver high-heeled sandals. “They’re perfect. I hope Jess can find a pair like these.”
    “I can’t walk in heels like that!”
    “Jess, you’re one of my best friends and you know I love you, but you’re not wearing sneakers to my wedding.”
    “What if I buy new ones?” Jess asked. “Blue ones?”
    Nicola laughed at the joke, but Rory suspected Jess was only half kidding. “Rory has already agreed to take you shoe-shopping. Unless you’d rather go with me.”
    Jess’s eyes widened in mock horror. “No!” Grinning, she hitched up the hem of her dress, uncovered one sneaker, and planted her foot next to Rory’s. “Our tastes are so similar.”
    Typical Jess. She loved having the last word as much as Nic liked having her own way. In spite of their different interests and upbringings, the five of them had become friends when they were dorm mates in their first year at college. Nic and Maria were from affluent San Franciscan families, and they were carrying on the tradition by “marrying well.” Paige’s military family had moved all over the country and now she was determined to put down roots and raise a family. Jess had been raised by her mom and her grandfather. She’d never met her father and by all reports, that was not a bad thing. Rory’s parents’ on-again-off-again marriage hadn’t provided the most stable environment, either, but she’d had it a lot easier than Jess.
    Maria had been the first to get married, and they had agreed then that each would have a turn at being maid of honor. Paige had been Maria’s and Nicola had been Paige’s. Maria would be Jess’s and, if Rory was ever crazy enough to tie the knot, she’d have Jess.
    “You can wear sneakers at my wedding,” Rory said to her.
    “You said you’re never getting married.”
    Rory grinned. “That’s why I’m letting you wear sneakers.”
    “When you change your mind, don’t think I won’t hold you told to it. I have witnesses.”
    The seamstress stood and draped her measuring tape around her neck. “That’s it, ladies. I’ll need each of you to come in for a final fitting, especially the mother-to-be. I’ve allowed for a little expansion, but we want a perfect fit.”
    A faint pink glow softened Maria’s olive-toned skin. “That’s very sweet of you, but what about Nicola’s dress? Don’t we get to see it?”
    Nic exchanged a sly glance with Rhoda. “Not a chance. I’m keeping it completely under wraps until my big day. Now let’s head to The Whiskey Sour for some girl talk. Drinks are on me.”

Chapter Five
    Fisherman’s Wharf teemed with Saturday afternoon visitors. Mostly tourists, if Mitch had to guess. Gulls circled and squawked overhead, their raucousness punctuated by honking taxi cabs and the occasional ship’s whistle.
    Miranda tugged at his hand, urging him to hurry. Her favorite ice-cream place was still a couple of blocks away, and Mitch knew that after they’d fulfilled that expectation she would slow down and spend some time looking at the boats and the markets and the souvenir stalls.
    In the old days, he used to carry her on his shoulders and Laura would slip her hand into his. He was glad his daughter hadn’t suggested riding on his shoulders today because he wasn’t sure he could handle having that hand empty.
    It’s one afternoon, he reminded himself. If Miranda can do this, so can you. Besides, being here felt oddly…right. Even though it was just the two of them, this was easier than he’d expected it to be.
    “I’m glad Miss Sunshine moved in with us, aren’t you?” his daughter asked.
    Truthfully, he would need a little time to process that unexpected turn of events. “She isn’t living with us,” he said.