Sweet Surprise

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Lightning never strikes twice.

Bullpucky.

On a stormy, sleet-driven afternoon, Fiona Wilder sat pinned between the steering wheel and the driver’s seat of her once-pretty-cool little Ford Focus.

If anything had to happen to her more than once, she’d prefer something fabulous like winning the lottery, trips to Hawaii, or even free groceries at the Touch and Go Market. At the very least, she’d appreciate a double-dip victory from the Bubble Buster Car Wash.

But nooooooo.

Thanks to someone else’s road rage, she got to be the unlucky recipient of a car accident on San Antonio’s busiest highway.

For the second time.

From the moment she’d merged from the on-ramp, she’d watched the van and pickup truck play a dangerous, aggressive game. She’d even changed lanes to get out of their way. Instead, she’d lucked out. Judging by the van attached to the hood of her car and the SUV tucked into her rear bumper, she’d become the cheese in a three-car collision road-rage sandwich.

Last time she’d escaped with minor bruises. This time, the pain charging through her head and left leg signaled the fate factor had flipped her a fully extended middle finger.

Though her current situation had her packed in like a sardine, she thanked God Izzy hadn’t been in the car. Nothing in the world meant more to her than her little girl. And that little girl would start to worry when her mommy didn’t show up on time.

Fiona sighed. With her car currently jam-packed between two heavyweights, the likelihood of going anywhere for a while seemed slim.

A wave of dizziness spun her head while she blindly reached for her purse to grab her cell phone. When her searching fingers came up empty she realized the impact must have flung her bag to the floor. Anxiety twisted through her stomach. Someone else could dial 911; she needed to get a call to her babysitter.

Through the sleeting mist, she heard the oh-too-familiar wail of emergency vehicles and tried to remember if Jackson was on duty. Ironically, her first accident was what had brought them together. He’d been the hunky fireman to rescue her. And she’d found love.

Sort of.

Now, as the sirens grew closer and louder, and the familiar flash of red lights cut through the storm-filled sky, Fiona tried to take a deep breath to stifle the pain. Just more of her good fortune that her lungs weren’t willing to cooperate without making it feel like her chest was caving in. She shoved panic aside and settled for the quick shallow breathing pattern she’d used giving birth to Izzy. In the meantime she waited for San Antonio’s finest to show up and pry her out.

“Ma’am?” A big fist rapped on the driver side window. “Are you okay?”

With another hee-hee-who, Fiona lifted her groggy gaze up past the big khaki coat with yellow and reflective stripes, to the handsome face and intense dark eyes staring back at her from behind the rain-streaked glass.

Her heart played a quick game of hopscotch.

Apparently, even pressed in the car like a ravioli, she could appreciate a handsome face.

A wicked bolt of lightning struck not far beyond the massive fire engine. From beneath the yellow helmet, the most perfect masculine mouth she’d ever seen lifted in a reassuring smile, even as the slash of brows over those dark eyes pulled together. The fireman said something she couldn’t hear over the drumming of rain, the shriek of sirens, and the ringing in her ears.

Squinting, she tried to identify him, but the aftermath of the collision had other ideas and sent another wave of vertigo tilting through her head. This time, everything went black.

Sweet Surprise

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