One Fiery Night (4 page)

She drew a deep breath and released it. What came out of her mouth was not the accusation that he’d wrongfully seduced her or the demand that he leave her room.

“I want to hear about you. Tell me what you’ve been doing with your life besides fighting fires and rescuing people.”

A grin stretched his handsome features. He gave a rumble of a laugh and leaned forward until their foreheads bumped. The brilliant flecks of silver in his ice-blue eyes threatened to steal her precious grip on her emotions.

“Baby, until I saw you silhouetted by those flames, I wasn't really living, and there's nothing to say. Except now I’d be glad to stay in this hotel room with you all day. But there’s one little problem.”

“What’s that?” Her breathless tone betrayed her if the hardening of her nipples under the sheet hadn’t.

He flicked his tongue over the corner of her mouth. “I don’t have any more condoms.”

Chapter Three

Luke strode through the lounge of the firehouse, ignoring the calls of welcome from his fellow team members. But he couldn’t ignore his captain’s voice when he followed Luke into the locker room.

The metal door of his locker squeaked as he opened it to check his gear. He started pulling out the garments and looking them over for wear. This was a safety precaution every firefighter must perform, but Luke had been too upset after that last call to look then.

“I know you’re just inspecting that jacket to keep from meeting my gaze,” Captain Pearce Johnson said.

Luke didn’t try to deny it, but bobbed his head in affirmation. “That’s right, Caps.”

His friend and leader moved closer. “You ready for that ceremony tomorrow? Your dress uniform all pressed?”

Luke’s stomach sank to the soles of his boots. The last thing he wanted to do was accept a medal of heroism from the city for saving Josie and her daughter. She’d definitely be at the ceremony, and he simply didn’t know how he was going to handle that.

After spending an entire day in her bed, it had pained him to rip himself from her arms to come to work. The night shift was never a picnic anyway, because most of the calls they received occurred during the dark hours. Who knew what they’d be up against tonight? And Luke was afraid he’d be distracted by the memories of Josie’s touch.

He hung his coat back inside his locker and reached for his pants. Before he could tug them off the metal hook, Pearce shut the door.

“What’s going on with you, Lucifer?”

The nickname ruffled him and brought him firmly back to the present. The vision of Josie’s green eyes after he’d given her a final body-racking orgasm dissipated like a wisp of smoke.

Luke sighed. They called him Lucifer because only Satan could withstand the fiery hells Luke could. He was the only one on the team at Firehouse 5 to be able to stand up to very extreme temperatures for long periods of time. He was a special ops guy, sent in to rescue people from buildings no one else could breach.

And thank God he could. No one else wanted to go into that burning Victorian house and try to find the victims. Especially since the city didn’t have any blueprints on record for that old home. That’s why Luke hadn’t truly known about the back staircase.

He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to ignore the sweet scents of Josie still clinging to his hands. Even after washing them, he detected her arousal. He clamped his hand into a fist to keep from drawing his fingers to his nose and inhaling deeply.

“Sorry, Caps. I’m a little off balance tonight.”

“You’d better get your head on straight. It’s sure to be a rough night. You know how Saturday nights are around here.” His leader’s dark gaze penetrated Luke, probably reading too much. Pearce was known for his insight into people. That’s what made him a great captain. He gave the team members only jobs they were sure to excel at.

But he didn’t know everything. A few years ago, Luke and this captain had gone rounds about Luke’s desire to gain his paramedic certificate. After Ryan’s death, he felt compelled to learn everything he could to save human lives. Pearce had thought his special training for solo missions enough.

In the end, Luke had won. His training made him sought after by many of the surrounding fire companies. But he’d never leave Firehouse 5. These people were like his family—Pearce included. Now it was protocol that every firefighter have paramedic training.

“That woman I saved?” he heard himself say. “She’s my ex from college.”

Pearce let out a low whistle. “What’s the chance of running into a burning building and saving a woman you know?”

“That’s what I was thinking. Which led to some higher thinking…”

“Higher thinking doesn’t happen with the head in your pants, Lucifer.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose hard. That was the trouble—he hadn’t only allowed lust to speak for his actions. His heart had swiftly ruled.

In the other room, raucous laughter sounded, followed by several hoots and guffaws from his fellow firefighters. At this moment, he wished he could be sitting with them, chatting and enjoying some of Damon’s special barbecue, which Luke could smell all the way in here. Waiting for the next 9-1-1 call was hard enough without the crushing need to feel Josie beneath him. Or the worry about how to shake her off.

“I think I fucked up pretty bad, Pearce. But I have no clue how to remedy it.”

“Well, you’d better get your head on straight pretty quickly. We don’t have room for errors. Do you need the night off to regroup?”

“Nah, not that. I’m all right.” The very last thing Luke needed was time to himself. He’d end up staring at the room numbers 429 quicker than he could respond to a four-alarm fire.

At that instant, the bell pealed.

Pearce brought his hand down on Luke’s shoulder, pinning him in place. “I’m trusting you. Don’t let me down.”

“Never have, never will.” He grabbed his heavy pants and jammed his legs into them, hitching the suspenders over his shoulders.

The rest of the squad suddenly surrounded him and Pearce, everyone yanking on gear and adjusting masks and tanks.

In the background, the scanner radio blared. The voice gave the particulars in an urgent yet precise way, spelling out the address of an overturned tanker on the interstate.

“Great. A fucking gasoline spill. Better have those gloves handy, Lucifer,” said their chemical spill specialist, Mitch Morelli. The big Italian stared at him a heartbeat too long.

Luke clapped him on the back, dispelling the tension. He’d always felt Mitch had a thing for him and now was not the time to tell him not only was he completely hetero but he was entirely too fucked up by a woman to think straight. “I don’t need the gloves, Morelli. Now let’s roll.”

“Scramble, men!” Pearce’s sharp command sent them all running for the response unit. Ahead of them, a crew of six men tore out of the parking lot in their largest truck. Morelli, Pearce and Luke jumped into the smaller one.

Pearce was on the horn, barking orders to the police who were already on the scene.

Luke checked all his gear twice before realizing his cell phone with Josie’s new number programmed into it was back in his locker. He couldn’t even give her a call and tell her—

What? That he loved her?

After 9/11, many firefighters wished they had spoken those three little words before responding to the call. Hell, his brother Ryan had probably experienced a moment of panic when he realized he was never again going to see his wife and kids.

Luke’s job was dangerous. Perils could flare up in an instant, taking the lives of the people who fought to keep others safe.

“You all right, Lucifer?” Morelli was jostled as the truck whipped around a corner.

“He’d damn well better be,” Pearce ground out, shooting Luke a pointed glare.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good. No worries.”

Ahead of them, the traffic of the main thoroughfare through the city split off to allow them right of way. The truck hit speeds of sixty miles an hour. The lights of the businesses were a blur. As they passed the street leading to Josie’s hotel room, Luke stiffened.

Hell, he had to get his head on straight. While he most likely wouldn’t be braving the flames alone this time, he still would need to keep on his toes. Explosions were likely, as were burns. Maybe he should have grabbed his gloves.

In minutes, they arrived on the scene. The other unit was already there, spreading foam on the wall of flames dancing around a tanker overturned on its side, leaking gasoline like a giant monster with its entrails spilling forth.

“Fuck, this doesn’t look good.” Pearce slammed to a forceful stop and the three of them jumped out.

Luke stuck to Morelli’s side as they kitted up with their own devices to douse the flames with a special chemical. They’d have their hands full though. The wall of fire shot into the night sky.

“Lucifer, you and Morelli flank up with Dobbs and Howland. Morelli, make it your business to rein in this beast!” Pearce’s instructions faded away as he ran to the other team members and made sure they were doing their jobs to the best of their abilities while remaining safe and cautious.

“Where’s the driver?” Luke called out to the nearest police officer.

He ran over, a hand on his hat to keep it from being blasted off by the heat coming off the massive fire. He pointed to the paramedic crew at the far side of the highway. “Banged up but no real damage. Don’t worry about him. Just do your job, Lieutenant!” He jogged away from the peril again and Luke turned his attention to the fire eating up the spilled gasoline like a greedy toddler slurped ice cream.

The roar grew until he could only see Morelli’s lips moving as he spoke to the captain through their communication device. The scents of burning gas and destruction didn’t penetrate Luke’s mask. All he could smell was Josie. She was all over him.

Despite his dangerous position, his cock stirred to life. He bit back a growl, but it transmitted through the comm link. Morelli swung his head Luke’s direction.

He gave a wave as if to say “I’m okay” and continued to hose down the flames. The wall of fire was beginning to lower inch by precious inch.

At the place where the truck emptied onto the ground, an entire unit from a neighboring firehouse had been positioned, concentrating their efforts to keep the nine-thousand-gallon fuel tanker from blowing sky high. They’d managed to shut the leaking valve and were busy laying flame-retardant chemicals on top of the gas.

Suddenly the flames flared up in front of him. The heat blasted him backward but he braced himself as more of the flammable liquid caught. The hair on the backs of his hands singed and he clenched his fists automatically, stretching the tightening skin.

Into his ear, his captain hollered. “Watch yourself, Lucifer! You’re not indestructible!”

Fleetingly he wondered what would happen if he was injured—or worse, killed. Would Josie mourn him?

She would, without a doubt. But the bigger question was what would happen if he got close enough to her to also infiltrate her daughter’s life. He pictured himself as a stepfather. Caring for that little girl who looked so much like Josie would be easy.

“That’s it,” he said aloud, not meaning to.

“What?” Morelli’s voice came at him, and the man was staring at him from the depths of his mask.

“Nothing.”

But it was far from nothing. He’d just made a decision about Josie. Debilitating pain clawed at him but he had to man up to it. Ryan had left his wife and kids, but damned if Luke ever would.

No, he would remain single and childless for the rest of his life.

* * * * *

The fire chief took the podium and the voices of the crowd silenced. But the click of cameras continued to sound as reporters took pictures of the big event. Josie bounced on her toes, her heart pounding. Maggie’s hand was warm and dry in Josie’s own slick grasp. She’d spent half the night awake, wondering what Luke was doing and if he was safe. Finally she’d drifted off in the wee hours of the morning, only to be awakened by pounding on the hotel door when her ex returned Maggie.

She’d dressed her daughter in a sweet pink sundress and her golden hair was tied off her face with a matching bow. She clutched a brand-new teddy bear around the neck. This new toy was named Mr. Fluff like the last one—the one that had perished in the fire. They’d been unable to find the exact same bear, but Maggie had taken this with great stoicism for a five-year-old.

“I can still pretend he’s the same Mr. Fluff, Mom. And he’ll feel very special because he has a good name.”

Josie had quickly dropped her tear-filled eyes.

She swallowed the rising lump in her throat. They’d replaced so little in their lives so far. Today, after the award ceremony, she planned to scour the classifieds for an apartment to rent and maybe a used car.

The chief began to speak in a deep, rich voice. For long minutes he talked about the department and Firehouse 5, which Josie hadn’t known the name of before. She listened intently but kept glancing around, hoping to get a glimpse of Luke.

Several reporters beside her took advantage of the chief’s pause to ask about some events the previous night. With a hollow stomach, she listened to his accounts of a gas spill, a five-car pileup that had resulted in a conflagration, and a fire that began in a fireplace a few blocks from where she lived.

Had lived.
Her mental correction wore on her. Now brittle with emotion, she scanned the crowd again.

And saw him. Luke was about thirty steps from her, staring at her unwaveringly. Her heart leaped into her throat and she felt a smile bound to her lips.

He didn’t return it but gave a solemn nod. Ice trickled through her limbs and settled in her fingertips. The old wound in her heart opened a little and bled with worry. What was going on? He looked far from enthusiastic about seeing her.

She continued to stare at him. His shoulders looked impossibly wide in his dark-blue jacket, which was decorated with gold pins. His tanned skin glowed against the stark white of his shirt and it looked as if he’d freshly shaved. His trim hair lay neatly against his head, glinting with lighter streaks in the sun.