Paw Prints & Shamrocks for the Firefighter by Brynn Hale

Lennox:
I fight fires, rescue cats from trees, and flip pancakes at the local fire station…green pancakes today because it’s St. Patrick’s Day.
My Irish heritage should make this a day to celebrate, but with my past, there’s nothing to celebrate.
When in walks, Ms. tall, blonde, and B-E-A-Utiful asking where the dogs are supposed to go, I offer what I think is a funny quip, but she sure doesn’t.
So I add stuck-up to that list of qualities.
But soon I find my thoughts changing about her attitude.
I’m the silver medal of messed up next to her gold and lots of reasons for the ‘tude at the high altitude.
And that’s something I think we should change.
Together and as soon as possible.
But two messes don’t make things right as we come to find out.

Harriet:
My life’s gone from bad…to worse…to the worst.
And I definitely don’t need the complications that a man brings to the picture.
Sure Lennox is tall, built like a fire engine and red hot like the fires he fights.
I can’t allow his smart mouth and warm heart to get through these battle scars.
When he decides to adopt one of my fosters, I’m obligated to visit his house and see how things are going.
And that’s when the worst of the worst happens.
I might have to save him this time and maybe that means I’m saving myself, too.