202 Cherry Popper Way: A Small Town Friends to Lovers Firefighter Romance

by Penelope Wylde

  I know there’s no truth to my words the second I utter them. Guilt eats at me for how I left things this morning. Seeing her in those shorts, that sweet pouty, freshly awake look on her perfect face. Her body fisted me so perfectly. How long can I hold out before I want more? Crave more? Not long. I know it.

  My phone pings. When I pull it out of my back pocket, my blood pressure shoots through the roof.

  I shove it back into my pocket before Duke tries to take a peek, already planning how I’m going to make the little tease pay for sending me such a naughty picture of her pretty pussy covered in pink silk.

  The alarm fills the fire station and all thoughts of Bela, sex, and two different shoes leave my mind. My brain clicks over and the entire house moves in unison.

  Duke and I are out of my office and on the floor in seconds, our training kicking in.

  We are geared up and rolling in less than eight minutes. “Where is the call coming in from?” Duke is behind the wheel and maneuvering us through the slow morning traffic. Cherry Falls doesn’t have a lot of it, but a couple of times a day it can get a little deep at the red lights.

  “Orphanage.”

  Shit.

  Smoke is already climbing into the sky in the distance. When we roll to a stop everyone jumps into action. Several women and small children are running out of the large three-floor Victorian home. I gear up, grab my ax and turn to go into the burning building, knowing my teams will have each other’s backs.

  A soot-covered woman barrels out of the front door. We lock eyes and she grabs my arm. “Chief, there are three girls, top floor, back room.” I usher her out and take the stairs three at a time.

  I don’t call out for fear the girls will run out and hit weak flooring. Flames lick along the south wall and that’s the same direction I’m heading. I have to hurry. The smoke isn’t too thick. Yet. But that will change in a matter of a few seconds.

  Duke comes up behind me and together we clear each level while another team does the same for the north end of the house.

  When we reach the top floor the sound of cries directs us to the three girls.

  The door is open and we find this section of the house untouched by the flames. In less than two minutes we have the girls safe and outside with the rest of their friends.

  Several people surround us, clapping and cheering on the team. I’m not about the accolades and back-patting. Let the men have all they can take. Seeing these kids safe is my only priority. I see a few have burns but they are being tended to. Water rushes from hoses and everyone stands back as the only home most of these kids know burns.

  Someone would pay for this.

  I pull off my air tank and stow it away. A flash of purple and the scent of coconut catches my attention. I draw up short.

  “Bela?”

  She kneels over a child who won’t stop crying but magically stops when Bela passes her a muffin. I can’t seem to look away. The woman is like Mary Poppins or something.

  “Bela,” I say again and settle a hand on her shoulder. Pretty brown eyes come up to meet mine.

  “Miles?” Surprise lights her face but it’s gone in a flash. “Of course, you’re here.” She shakes her head incredulously. “We should stop meeting like this or not much of the town will be left.”

  Her arms are full of soot-covered kids, blankets, and those damn muffins of hers.

  “Like what? What are you doing here? Were you in there? Are you hurt?”

  “Whoa, Miles, slow down. I only meant like only when there’s a fire, it was a joke. You know to help ease the stress a little. I deliver muffins here every Monday for breakfast. It’s a thing I do. I just happen to be in the right place at the right time. To help.” Her eyes drift over to the kids being tended by their caretakers.

  “Are you hurt?” Red burn marks cover a small patch on her left arms just below the elbow.

  “Don’t lie to me, Bela.” I lead her over to the rig and pull out the first-aid kit and start dressing the burn. It’s mild, but I still must sting. “Were you inside when the fire broke out?”

  She takes my hand. “I’m not lying, Miles. I’m fine. Trust me. And no, I had just pulled up when the kids were being ushered out. I helped get a couple of the younger ones out. I got caught in a couple of places it seems.”

  “Let’s hope there never is next time.”

  “Touché.”

  “Mister Fire Chief.”

  Two kids who look to be twins about five years old run across the yard and throw their arms around me. I bend and pick them up. “You guys okay?”

  “Yeth. Thank you for helping us.”

  I give them a quick squeeze, because damn it, no kid should ever have to be scared as they must be right now, and hand them back to their caretakers. “You stay with your friends, now guys, get a muffin if you're hungry while we get your home safe again, ok.”

  “Yeth, sir.”

  I can feel Bela’s eyes on me and I swear I can already hear her words before she even opens her mouth.

  “You're good with kids.”

  “They’re just tiny little things. So helpless. It pisses me off that this happened in the first place.”

  “Family and home is everything to you isn’t it, Miles.”

  What do I say to that? I never had a real home, just like these kids. Not until The Malone’s adopted me, so I understand how important it is to them to feel safe in a house they do think of as home.

  I keep my gaze locked over the crowd as my crew works to put out the last of the flames. “Something is off here.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “How the flames started. Someone wasn’t watching over the kids. In a place this big, they break the kids up into age groups. The older ones have chores before and after school. Someone left kids unattended.”

  The head of the orphanage is on a gurney and being treated near an ambulance with a woman fawning all over him. She’s missing a bra, and he’s missing his shoes. Two plus fucking two.

  Bingo. I don't know what I am looking for until my eyes land on it. Or rather him. “Some-of-a-bitch. And I just found out why.”

  “Miles?”

  “Wait here.”

  I need a breather from all the talk of family and kids. Bela makes me want things a dark soul like me should never be blessed with. She looks at me like I would be the world’s greatest dad. But she’s wrong. I'm too messed up for her future shining bright in her eyes. She practically paints a picture for me with her words and insinuations. It’s not going to happen.

  Ten years working undercover witnessing really bad shit left me scarred, cynical, and jaded. But I’m a really good judge of character, too. I can read between lines most people can’t see. Like the fact the director of this place is fucking one of the caregivers when they should both be watching their charges.

  I point my anger across the spacious front lawn full of kids with no beds because of this fucker.

  “You,” I bellow out, startling everyone within earshot. “You let your guard down and because of you, these kids could have been seriously harmed. Or worse.”

  “Miles, what are you doing?”

  I feel a warm, calming touch to my back, and I nearly lose the wind in my sails. But if I don’t stand up for these kids, who will?

  “Finding the man responsible and calling him out.” I stare down the man on the bed and I don’t give a shit if he is suffering from a few burns. So are the kids.

  “Look, I made a mistake.” He tries to pull a lame-ass contrite expression to help pull off his remorse. I don’t care how sorry he wants to come off, the fact is, he has a job to do and failed.

  “How can you be so sure?” Bela is beside me, her hand still on my back. I’m not one for drama, but this shit is unacceptable.

  “I know people.”

  I turn back to the director. “Look at you. You thought a quick screw in the back room was all fun, right? You, a man who cares for tens of kids, should know better. Now you get to live with almos
t costing these kids their lives.”

  I feel like an asshole but that doesn't make my words any less true.

  A tiny gasp comes from Bella. “Miles, he’s hurt and you're yelling at him.”

  “He’s an adult and can take it.”

  Her pretty eyes narrow and I know I’m about to catch hell.

  “You’re being a dick, Miles Malone.” She folds her arms and I can see a fight coming.

  “He’s not an underdog you need to fight for. You haven't seen what I’ve seen. He might look like a nice guy but nice guys commit crimes too, and reckless endangerment is a big one.” I shift my weight toward her. “I bet the last dollar to my name, I could find something bad about you if I were to dig deep enough.”

  “And good guys can be assholes too. Sorry you think so little of me. At least I know where I stand. Goodbye, Miles.”

  I watch Bela turn and walk away, the sting of her words burning deep. And it is not yet noon on a Monday. Exactly how a shit week starts. Brilliant.

  It’s better this way.

  Chapter Seven

  Bela

  Two days later I flip the lights on in my bakery and pull the curtains down. I turn the lock to closed behind me and dim the overheads to low over the small tables dotting the entrance. Normally fresh flowers from the Flower Patch decorate the little two-seater tables with a couple of candles here and there.

  But not today. It kind of breaks my heart to see the shelves empty and none of my usual customers eating all the gooey confections I bake up.

  Soon. Very soon I’ll be back in business. Thankfully the insurance companies work faster in a town this small and the repairs have already started.

  The brick wall needs the soot scrubbed off, but the construction crew has promised my apartment and business will be ready in another five days. I can live with that.

  I set my bag down by the back door. Miles has been dodging me. Getting home after I fall asleep and gone before I wake. Instead of enjoying yet another wonderful microwavable bean and cheese burrito and binge-watching cop shows alone, I came here a little after I heard him leave this morning.

  Another day of his icy wall and I might start throwing spatulas at the man for stress relief. I’ll stick it out at the Manor House Hotel. At least there the food is better and I don’t have to deal with a moody firefighter who takes scowl-wearing as a new form of art.

  Right now I don’t have it in me to deal with visitors so I leave only the kitchen lights on and make my way toward the back.

  I’ve baked all day, only taking a break for a short walk around the fountain. An hour there, my lungs full of fresh air and I still don’t have an answer for Miles’ outburst back at the orphanage. Or for his hurtful words. That man. He drives me crazy.

  But I don’t have the luxury of piecing his puzzle together right now. I re-baked, decorated and prepared the amethyst wedding cake order ruined in the fire. My shoulders ache and my back might permanently be out of alignment, but it's done.

  Now, only one more to go. This stupid penis cake. Ugh, I drop my head to rest on my forearms, calling forth all the energy of every baking goddess before me to give me the strength.

  I am reaching for the piping bag when I feel him. The crackling shift of energy. It’s palpable. Like a million tiny fairies sprinkling glitter over my whole body and I can feel every little speck of magic in the air.

  The soft thud of his work boots on my hardwood flooring has me tensing before I pull around to face him.

  “I thought you're against crime?”

  I lean a hip against the counter and debate calling the sheriff just to mess with my intruder. Give back a little of what he dished out. How I wish I could be so petty.

  Miles, dressed all in black and a sinful smile, prowls across the front of the bakery.

  His dark gaze narrows on mine. “Yeah, but we all have a dark side, baby. All of us. I just happen to use mine for good.”

  He doesn't stop, not until he’s around the front counter and the heat of his body caresses against mine. He rests strong hands on my shoulders, but I’m not ready to just fall into the big oaf's arms.

  “That so? Breaking into my place? For good?”

  “How else can I apologize? You weren’t there when I came home.”

  “And?”

  “And I want you to know I’m sorry. I’m an asshole of epic proportions. You didn’t deserve my words the other day and I truly am sorry for hurting you.”

  “You were a dick when you didn’t have to be with me.”

  “With you, no. I knew it then but the rage inside me wouldn’t listen to reason with those kids in danger. I’ve never reacted like that before.”

  “I’m sure you’ve never seen hurt kids like that before.”

  Some kind of darkness pulls over his expression and for a second, before he pulls the mask back in place I see the underlying layer he’s always alluding to. The darker side of Miles Malone he wants no one to see. “What?” I ask bravely, knowing he’ll rebuff my attempt to move another puzzle piece of the man into place.

  “I’ve seen more than I care to talk about, sweetheart. Let’s leave it at that.” Like I thought. An answer but at the same time, not an answer. That’s fine. He doesn’t owe me one. But I sure wish he would open up and let me help.

  He pulls me into his arms and holds me against his chest like I am a lifeline. A large hand cradling the back of my head, another over my lower back. Or, it could all be my imagination getting the better of me. Either way, it feels good to just rest my head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat in my ear for several seconds. No words, but being.

  “But you weren’t wrong,” I say, lifting my eyes to his. “ The director and the caregiver. They left teens alone which always spell trouble when they get bored.”

  He raises and drops a shoulder. “I wasn't trying to be right.”

  “My gran always said I was too nice, too forgiving,”

  “Too cute ’n tasty too. Tell me about her.”

  “She’s the reason I became a pastry chef. She taught me everything. My instructors at culinary school were always complimenting me because of what Gran taught me before I even knew I loved baking. Like she knew I would all along. Even through my professional kissing phase.”

  His face falls into a frown. “Your what?”

  I wave a hand. “Never mind. It never got off the ground. Now it’s your turn. How did you end up in Cherry Falls as fire chief?”

  His hands rest on either side of my neck and he traces small circles right under my earlobes that has me half wanting to hear what he has to say and half wanting to rip his clothes off and go all Jane of the Jungle on him.

  “It wasn’t my original plan. I liked cop uniforms better and I got to carry a gun. Did ten years. Did a little undercover work in narcotics and pulled out before a bust could turn deadly.”

  I blink up at him, sort of stunned.

  He cups the sides of my face in the palms of his hands. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you set fire to your bakery just so you could get me in your bed.”

  Wow, he didn’t waste time. The man came here on a mission and no number of questions are going to deter him. I kind of dig it.

  I smile. “You mean my kitchen?”

  He grabs my hips and hauls me up to sit on a counter. “Because technically, we’ve yet to use a bed.” My nipples tighten in anticipation and I widen my legs, thankful for it being another skirt day.

  Warm, callused fingers brush over my legs and when they dip into the band of my underwear I draw in a shuddering breath.

  “Miles.”

  I tighten my arms around his shoulders and his mouth is so close to mine I can already taste the black cherry mocha he drank on the way here.

  “Why start now? I have an idea, though. How about we set a fire of our own?”

  ***

  Miles

  I knew the second Bela wasn’t at my place, I had to find her. She’s nothing like any of the women I’ve ev
er allowed myself to get close to. Which are few to begin with.

  “I like the sound of that, Chief,” she coos in this sexy husk that goes straight to my dick. I’m harder than I’ve ever been. I sink my fingers into the flesh of her ass and haul her over the ridge of my cock fighting to bust through my zipper.

  Her nipples are hard points pushing through the thin material of her shirt and tease me to take them in my mouth. I knew it would come to this—me losing it over this woman. I fought it, and the only thing that got me was a ravenous appetite for the sweetest treat in this town. Now that I’ve had her on my tongue, wrapped around my body, I want more.

  I undo my belt and enjoy the way her eyes catch every movement my hands make. Her heels press into my ass, pulling me back to her when I put too much space between us.

  “Greedy little baker.”

  “No, hungry little baker. I’d invite you upstairs to my place for that bed, but—”

  “But nothing.” I take her ass in hand and head for the stairs tucked behind a door at my back.

  With her in my arms, I take them two at a time knowing the damage to her place is on the opposite side of the apartment from her bedroom. I might have fibbed about her being unable to stay here while the crew repairs the flooring.

  Blood roars through my ears and my balls throb to the need to have her. I kick open her bedroom door and waste no time in stripping us both.

  She seems to feel the same urgency. Pants, shoes, her top, my shirt. Everything goes flying and I don’t slow down until I have her skin on mine.

  Soft hands touch every inch of my chest, abs and lower when I spread out over the bed.

  “Miles, you’re so beautiful.” Her hands are all over the tattoos covering my chest and arms.

  “That’s my line for you, gorgeous. Come here.”

  I hold my hands out for her to climb on top, but she has other ideas. Holding my gaze, the little hellcat sticks out her tongue and drags it up from my balls to the head of my cock.

  I latch onto her hair and tug. Not too hard just enough to let her know she’s going to pay for that little trick in a good way.

  “How the fuck did you know to do that, woman?” I rasp through gritted teeth.