Read Online The Firefighter and the Virgin Princess by Jemma Harte - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jemma Harte
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that Donna girl
doing?" she exclaimed, tossing another meatball onto his plate.
"I don't know, ma. Seeing someone else, I
guess."
"Now she'll marry some other guy now, eh?
See you let her go and now you'll be sorry."
"Ma, I didn't wanna marry Donna. And you
didn't even like her."
"Meh," she shrugged. "She wore too much
make-up and she cursed. It's not nice to see a pretty girl curse.
It makes them ugly and then no face paint can help."
"See? So it's a good thing she went off me
and found someone else."
His mother shook her head
and tut-tutted, but he knew that was just for show. She was
secretly glad he didn't marry Donna. "What you need, Joey, is a
good girl. A good sweet, honest girl. Pure. Respects herself and
respects you. Not a slut. Non
putana !"
Overhearing this from across the table Mike
laughed. "Ma, you think Joe's gonna find a virgin bride in this day
and age? Trust me, there ain't no virgins left in New York."
Sherri shot her husband a dark frown, and he
hastily got on with his meal.
Joe couldn't resist a smug smile as he
lifted his beer bottle to his lips. "Hey, don't be so sure about
that."
A moment later Mike's two daughters ran into
the dining room, chasing each other around the table, one of them
in a pink fairy outfit, hitting her sister on the head with a
glittery, star-topped wand.
Sherri put down her glass of wine to yell,
"Antonia! What did I tell you about hitting your sister? And don't
run inside the house. Go outside if you wanna run."
"It's cold outside. Let them run in here,"
their grandmother exclaimed. "They can't hurt anything." She
captured the little fairy on her way by and scooped her up for a
hug.
Joe was always amused to see how lenient his
mother was with her grandkids. If that was him and Mike running
around the house as boys they would both have got a slap around the
head. But in their day they played out in the street and didn't
come home until it was dark. Things were different then.
"Antonia, tell your uncle Joe what you want
to be when you grow up."
The little girl gave a gap-toothed grin. "A
fairy!"
"That's not what you said earlier."
"Oh... a ballerina," the child exclaimed,
hitting her grandmother on the head with that wand. "I wanna be a
ballerina."
Joe set his bottle down in a hurry and
swallowed a gulp of beer.
Across the table, Mike muttered, "Thirty
dollars a week. Hundred and twenty dollars a month— for four,
one-hour long Saturday morning lessons. Let's hope she finds
something cheaper she wants to be."
"You like the ballet, Antonia?" Joe looked
at his little niece.
She nodded.
Joe had been looking for something to do
with his nieces, because they weren't into football or baseball—
not yet anyway. And now he could take them to see Lily. His heart
was beating hard and fast when he thought about Lily.
He didn't like that she'd snuck off without
a goodbye that afternoon, or that he didn't even have her number.
Usually girls pestered him to call them and they would definitely
sulk if he took off right after sex. Lily, though, was pretty
casual about the whole thing, despite giving him her virginity. She
reminded him of a shy bird in the park coming to peck at the
breadcrumbs he threw down, but reluctant to get too close, watching
him with one curious, wary eye. If he tried to catch her, she'd fly
off and it would take longer to regain her trust. So he'd play it
cool.
"Maybe I'll take you and your sister to see
the New York Ballet Theater. Would you like that, Antonia?"
"You?" Mike snorted. "What do you know about
the ballet? Do you even know where the New York Ballet Theater
is?"
"Sure."
"Since when?"
"Hey, I know a lot of things. And this way
I'll get to spend time with my favorite girls."
His brother gave him a narrow-eyed look, but
their mother patted his hand. "That's a very nice thing to do,
Joey. You're a good uncle."
He grinned. "Yeah, I am, ain't I?"
* * * *
He sent a small bunch of flowers and a note
to the theater. It was waiting
doing?" she exclaimed, tossing another meatball onto his plate.
"I don't know, ma. Seeing someone else, I
guess."
"Now she'll marry some other guy now, eh?
See you let her go and now you'll be sorry."
"Ma, I didn't wanna marry Donna. And you
didn't even like her."
"Meh," she shrugged. "She wore too much
make-up and she cursed. It's not nice to see a pretty girl curse.
It makes them ugly and then no face paint can help."
"See? So it's a good thing she went off me
and found someone else."
His mother shook her head
and tut-tutted, but he knew that was just for show. She was
secretly glad he didn't marry Donna. "What you need, Joey, is a
good girl. A good sweet, honest girl. Pure. Respects herself and
respects you. Not a slut. Non
putana !"
Overhearing this from across the table Mike
laughed. "Ma, you think Joe's gonna find a virgin bride in this day
and age? Trust me, there ain't no virgins left in New York."
Sherri shot her husband a dark frown, and he
hastily got on with his meal.
Joe couldn't resist a smug smile as he
lifted his beer bottle to his lips. "Hey, don't be so sure about
that."
A moment later Mike's two daughters ran into
the dining room, chasing each other around the table, one of them
in a pink fairy outfit, hitting her sister on the head with a
glittery, star-topped wand.
Sherri put down her glass of wine to yell,
"Antonia! What did I tell you about hitting your sister? And don't
run inside the house. Go outside if you wanna run."
"It's cold outside. Let them run in here,"
their grandmother exclaimed. "They can't hurt anything." She
captured the little fairy on her way by and scooped her up for a
hug.
Joe was always amused to see how lenient his
mother was with her grandkids. If that was him and Mike running
around the house as boys they would both have got a slap around the
head. But in their day they played out in the street and didn't
come home until it was dark. Things were different then.
"Antonia, tell your uncle Joe what you want
to be when you grow up."
The little girl gave a gap-toothed grin. "A
fairy!"
"That's not what you said earlier."
"Oh... a ballerina," the child exclaimed,
hitting her grandmother on the head with that wand. "I wanna be a
ballerina."
Joe set his bottle down in a hurry and
swallowed a gulp of beer.
Across the table, Mike muttered, "Thirty
dollars a week. Hundred and twenty dollars a month— for four,
one-hour long Saturday morning lessons. Let's hope she finds
something cheaper she wants to be."
"You like the ballet, Antonia?" Joe looked
at his little niece.
She nodded.
Joe had been looking for something to do
with his nieces, because they weren't into football or baseball—
not yet anyway. And now he could take them to see Lily. His heart
was beating hard and fast when he thought about Lily.
He didn't like that she'd snuck off without
a goodbye that afternoon, or that he didn't even have her number.
Usually girls pestered him to call them and they would definitely
sulk if he took off right after sex. Lily, though, was pretty
casual about the whole thing, despite giving him her virginity. She
reminded him of a shy bird in the park coming to peck at the
breadcrumbs he threw down, but reluctant to get too close, watching
him with one curious, wary eye. If he tried to catch her, she'd fly
off and it would take longer to regain her trust. So he'd play it
cool.
"Maybe I'll take you and your sister to see
the New York Ballet Theater. Would you like that, Antonia?"
"You?" Mike snorted. "What do you know about
the ballet? Do you even know where the New York Ballet Theater
is?"
"Sure."
"Since when?"
"Hey, I know a lot of things. And this way
I'll get to spend time with my favorite girls."
His brother gave him a narrow-eyed look, but
their mother patted his hand. "That's a very nice thing to do,
Joey. You're a good uncle."
He grinned. "Yeah, I am, ain't I?"
* * * *
He sent a small bunch of flowers and a note
to the theater. It was waiting
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