From The Inferno (Firemen Do It Better Book 3)

by Leah Sharelle

  The sound of a hand slapping against the side of the truck caught my attention.

  “Let’s go, Chase. And grab your axe, mate. You get to do what you do best, knock shit down,” Dylan called out to me, spurring me into action.

  With one last pointed glare at Knox, I took off, stopping at the side of the truck to grab my favourite tool from one of the compartments behind the roller door.

  My mind drifted unexpectedly to Jamie. The obvious attraction between the two of us was hard to ignore. She was very beautiful, and she made my dick hard with just the sound of her husky giggle. Goddamn, she was sexy. Mysterious but very sexy.

  The only thing that worried me was she was hiding from something. Melly hid things from me, and look how that turned out. I lost my whole life because of her little white lies. Because of her stubbornness to let me help her, and because she fell for the wrong guy.

  Shaking my head, I put my thoughts concerning Jamie to the back of my mind to focus on the current situation. My fellow firefighters deserved my full attention and thinking about a woman and how she affected me could get someone hurt or worse.

  “Let’s do this,” I said, nodding at Hoove and Carson. It was time to break shit down and put out a fire.

  “I need a shower.” Dylan groaned, his face scrunching up after giving his pits a good whiff.

  I had to agree with him. The smell in the cab of his truck was not the most pleasant of odours. Pushing the button on the armrest, I lowered the window halfway. There was no escaping the toxic smell, no matter how much fresh air came in the car.

  The fire took four units and eighteen firefighters to get under control. After six hours of back-breaking dangerous work, the building that was once an icon for rebellion amongst the teens of the town, past and present, was now just a pile of burnt ashes and charred tin.

  “You need something, mate. Maybe a hose down in the backyard before you go inside. I don’t think Tate will appreciate you smelling out her house.”

  “My wife appreciates me no matter how bad I smell, trust me, mate,” Hoove quipped in his typical cocky way. Not that he was wrong. The woman would lick his boots if he let her, which he wouldn’t. The love Hoove had for his wife was unimaginable to me. I wanted it, but I wasn’t sure getting it was going to happen.

  “So, Carson got a call from Lake before he left the station. It seems the new chick in town is now a certified resident. Old man Masters rented the house to her, and she is staying with Carson and Lake until the repairs and remodelling are finished,” Hoove said out of the blue.

  I knew what he was doing. He wanted to gauge my level of interest in Jamie, but his inquisitiveness was coming from a good place because he and Carson worried about me being alone on the farm with just my animals for company.

  Other than an occasional hook-up with one of my old school friends, I hadn’t re-entered the world of relationships for nearly ten years.

  “Is she just? And her name is Jamie, not chick. If you didn’t notice, she is hiding something, and that is not my game,” I said firmly, hoping that the conversation would end. Of course, it didn’t.

  Instead of reading my mind, Dylan opened his mouth and rocked me. “So you noticed the bruises on her wrist, too.”

  What the fuck!

  5

  “Are you sure this is okay, Lake? We only met today, and for all you know, I am a crazy serial killer,” I said for the tenth time in less than an hour.

  Today, things went very fast for me. When I pulled into Lucas, I was looking for something to eat and ended up with a job and a place to live. Mr Masters came into Lake’s café for his morning ritual of coffee and custard, and voilà, I found myself signing a rental agreement on the back of one of Lake’s old supply invoices. I also agreed to a cash-in-hand position at the café, working three days a week. I wasn’t going to think about my near orgasm after one look at Chase’s handsome face and strong hands.

  That was a huge problem. He was a huge problem for me. Staying in Lucas was a good idea—it was a relatively new suburb in an older city so I could stay well hidden here—but getting involved with a local and a fireman was not. I mean, take tonight, for example. Chase, Carson, and Dylan were all on the news and the main story, for heaven’s sake!

  Just being around him could bring attention to my whereabouts, unwanted attention to not only me but also Lake, her family, and Chase. Even though I could only give her my real first name and a fake surname, I hated the risks Lake was taking by offering me a job straightaway, not only with the tax department but the police possibly finding me. Her family and business could be in jeopardy all because I ran, but it wasn’t as though I had planned this. I know I should have stayed to find out if Colin was alive or dead, and as scared as I was, it shamed me that I took the cowardly way out.

  If only there was some news on him, some way to find out what was going on back in Sydney. Calling one of my tennis associates was out, reaching out to my parents was most definitely out, and other than those two options, I had no other recourse but to sit, wait, and lie to the first person to befriend me.

  “Please, Jamie, don’t worry about it. Brooke is gone for the night, and I know she won’t mind you using her bed. Tomorrow, we can set up the sofa bed, and I think I am a good enough judge of character to know you aren’t a killer,” Lake replied happily as she made up the bed with fresh linens. Her sister’s room didn’t resemble mine as a teenager. Where mine had had stark white walls devoid of any decorations, Brooke’s was covered from floor to ceiling with band posters and celebrities. Mostly males and ones I had never seen nor heard of, other than the guy who plays Jax Teller in a TV show I secretly watched when Colin was wining and dining sponsors. Charlie Hunnam featured in many of my dreams while on the road.

  Cringing at the killer comment, a fresh wave of guilt consumed me. Lying was wrong, no matter the reason behind it, and I was not a liar—usually.

  Though for a novice, I was certainly starting with some whoppers.

  I couldn’t take advantage of this kind woman, whose generosity to a total stranger was humbling. I had to tell her the truth. Opening my mouth, I was stopped from spilling my secret when Lake put her hand on my check.

  “Honey, I talked with Carson on the phone when we got home, and he is fine with it. In fact, it was his idea to get some of his old furniture out of storage for you to use in your new place. Mr Masters said the place should be ready in a couple of days. We will get the guys to help with the move, and Tate and I will help you get settled in. You will love Tate. She is Dylan’s wife and a real sweetie,” she went on, making my guilt multiply with every kind word and offer of help and friendship.

  “But, Lake—”

  “Jamie, you don’t have to say another word. It’s done, so just accept it.” Lake’s gaze dropped briefly to my hand, her eyes clouding over with sadness as she looked intently at it.

  Realising she saw the faint bruises there, I quickly pulled the sleeve of my jacket further down.

  “You are safe here. Jamie. No one will hurt you, I promise. I know at least three big guys with hearts bigger than their muscles who will not let any harm come to you again.”

  I swallowed the giant lump that suddenly made it’s way to my throat, my eyes stinging with tears at her words.

  “But if I may, can I make a suggestion?”

  I could only nod since words just weren’t possible at that moment.

  “On your rental agreement, you signed Barstowe with an e, but when you wrote down your name and number for me, you spelt it without an e. Seeing as though no one but me will see what you gave me, I suggest you go with an e on the end. Okay, hon? Oh, and maybe hide the sports duffel bag, too, since it proclaims you to be Jamie Lawrence. Someone might pick up on that,” Lake said gently.

  I was shocked that Lake picked up on my injuries and put two and two together and came up with four. I was also annoyed at myself for the stupid mistakes with my name and the bag.

  “Yes,” I whispered, my head
falling to my chest in defeat.

  “Hey, enough of that. We all have something in our lives we aren’t proud of, and if this is what you have to do to be safe, then I am all for it. Your secret is safe with me until you are ready to tell it.”

  Lake wrapped her arms around me, and although her small frame looked fragile, she had the heart of a lioness. Thankful for her understanding and compassion, I hugged her tightly for a few minutes until the sound of a baby wailing hit our ears.

  “And that’s my cue to leave you to get some sleep. Carson will be home soon but don’t worry. He is a master at being quiet.”

  Smiling, I let my arms fall to my side as an uneasy feeling suddenly came over me.

  “Lake?”

  “Yeah, honey?”

  “Do me a favour, and please don’t do a Google search on Jamie Lawrence. Okay?”

  I couldn’t deal with Lake finding out what I did to Colin. Hell, I didn’t even know what I did to him. There was absolutely no one I could call to find out, not the players, not my solicitor. The only place that might have some sort of information was the internet, and I wasn’t going there. I was too afraid that if I googled my name or Colin’s, I would somehow get cyber caught or something.

  Lake smiled sadly at me, her silver eyes tearing up. “I promise,” she whispered then turned and walked out of the room to tend to her son, leaving me alone with my guilt over what I had done and because I was happy for finding such a wonderful person.

  Please, don’t let her suffer for helping me. Please.

  Sighing, I reached for the duffel bag and pulled out my sleep shorts and tank. Going into the small bathroom, I made quick work of brushing my teeth, cleaning my face, and changing. Lastly, I grabbed my hairbrush and swept my long hair up into a high ponytail, grimacing at the auburn colour. The only thing I missed about my old life was my blonde hair. How did it even make sense that I missed that instead of my parents or my sport or my job?

  Truthfully, I missed playing tennis, not competing but playing. All the travelling and living out of a suitcase never appealed. Once I started winning big comps and big money, Colin pushed me for more, and his ambitions to gain notoriety as the best coach on the circuit meant he pushed me to my limits both physically and mentally. When the physical abuse started, I had no one to turn to for help. All the other players and coaches respected Colin, and at the time, I felt like there was nothing I could say. Who was going to believe that one of Australia’s best coaches was really a monster?

  No one, that was who.

  So here I was in a teenager’s bedroom, invited by the kindest person I had ever met, I had a job—again because of the kind and lovely Lake—and preparing to move into the first house to ever call my own.

  And I achieved all this by lying.

  “Who are you? What the hell are you doing?” I asked my reflection. Poking my tongue out at myself, I angrily slapped off the light switch then stomped to the bed.

  The queen size mattress looked very inviting, so much so I swear my sore muscles and back begged me to get on it. My long drive down from Sydney along back roads in the rust bucket of a car I bought, wreaked havoc on my body, as did the cheap motels I stayed in along the way. The bruises on my wrists, while still there, were fading and getting less obvious.

  Maybe soon I can wear a tee instead of long sleeves, I mused absently as I got up onto the plush cushion -topped mattress.

  “Oh, sweet heaven. This sure beats the one -star motel beds,” I whispered to the array of stuffed animals scattered on the bed. I hadn’t thought of asking Lake how old Brooke was, but judging by the posters, the messy closet, and the makeup in the bathroom, I guessed she was at least sixteen.

  My teen years had been spent on the tennis court, perfecting my swing or serve instead of shopping with girlfriends or having sleepovers.

  Boys? Yeah, I missed out on that exciting journey. I wasn’t even going to bother depressing myself with the whole no dating, holding hands, or experiencing my first kiss.

  Nope, not tonight.

  Tonight, I was going to turn off my brain and sleep.

  Maybe a dream or two about a hot fireman with blue eyes and muscles for days.

  Dreaming couldn’t hurt because that was all I would allow.

  Dreams.

  “Don’t you think Chase looks a bit like Josh Duhamel,” Tate, Dylan’s wife, said from her seat beside me. I met Tate approximately three hours ago when she and her hulk of a husband arrived to help the move into my rental happen a bit quicker.

  The woman was stunning, and I mean out of the stratosphere beautiful. Strawberry blonde hair, the bluest of blue eyes, and a smile that put me at ease the second I met her.

  “A bit. He is totally a Josh clone,” Lake declared, sipping on her fruity mocktail.

  Hmmm, fruity cocktails are the best thing in the world. I’d decided this about three drinks ago. My first alcoholic beverage in twenty-five years and I liked them—a lot.

  “What do you think, Jamie?”

  I spun my head around to look at Tate, the sudden movement making the table and two women around me spin and look blurry.

  “Huh? Who is this Josh Duhamel you speak of?” I asked, then hiccupped loudly.

  “Are you serious? You don’t know who Josh is? What rock have you been living under, lady?” Tate shouted her questions at me. “He is just the hottest man on the planet, that is all,” she exclaimed. The drink in her hand sploshed all over the table as she waved it at me as if she were trying to make her point with it somehow.

  “Dollface, you’ve about reached your limit, I think,” Dylan called out from the fence line. The big man and his two hot mates were standing there staring at us, their hotness even hotter because of the tight fitting tradie shorts and bare chests.

  All of them had bare, sweaty chests.

  Yum.

  “God, they are orgasmic to look at, aren’t they?” I said then slapped my hand over my mouth when the three men started laughing.

  Holy shit, can they hear me?

  “Sure can, darlin’, and I gotta agree with you, though it’s best that you don’t lust after my body. My fierce, sexy wife doesn’t take too kindly to women ogling me,” Dylan yelled back to me. Carson laughed with him but not Chase. Nope, his eyes narrowed at me before he threw his fisted hand out and punched Dylan in the ribs.

  “I said that out loud?” I asked Lake, but she wasn’t looking at me, her gaze was on the men, Chase in particular. The look on her face worried me even in my inebriated state because in the short time I had known Lake Hogan, I had worked out she had an agenda that included me and the Josh look-alike.

  When we arrived at the house this morning, she made sure that Chase and I stood near each other. She also made sure he was the one to find out where I wanted the new light fixtures and the plug outlets. At the time, I didn’t know what she was doing, but the more alcohol I consumed, the more I started to see her game.

  Narrowing my eyes at Lake, I attempted to make telepathic contact with her to tell her she had to stop whatever she was doing. Chase and I weren’t going to happen. I wasn’t going to lick him or tie him to my bed naked and pour chocolate sauce over his scrumptious chest and feed off it. Nor was I going to have any more fruity cocktails. I think Dylan was right about a limit being reached.

  The sound of giggling brought me out of my drunken stupor.

  “Oh, honey, your tongue is looser than a working girl’s panties,” Tate told me, her laughter nearly out of control. “Not that I blame you. My hunk does have a body worth worshipping, but I am more interested in what you want to do to Chase. Really, chocolate sauce?”

  Oh, God. Surely I didn’t say all that. Maybe Tate had telepathic powers of her own. Please.

  “Just forget I said any of that,” I mumbled, lowering my head.

  “No can do, legs. The image has taken up residence in my brain. When do you want to get started?”

  I jumped in my chair at the smooth, deep voice of my dreams for the pa
st two nights. My face heated with embarrassment, but my body heated with something far different—desire. The way his deep voice delivered the nickname he used for me made my heart flutter and my pussy pulse. The pulsing, I liked very much, but being caught speaking what I imagined doing to him, not so much.

  “Oh, God. I am so s—so sorry,” I apologised, completely mortified. I looked at him and sucked in a ragged breath. He was now on his knees in front of me, his face close to mine.

  “Hey, Jamie, don’t worry,” Chase said hurriedly. “I was only joking, darlin’.” His voice was like smooth, melted chocolate, and being this close to him, I could smell his aftershave, which was an intoxicating fragrance I hadn’t smelt before.

  “You have the most beautiful blue eyes, they shine like blue marbles, and you smell so good like… musk and Christmas trees,” I blabbed like a fool.

  “Okaaaay. Maybe you need to lay off the drinking, legs,” Chase suggested, taking the glass from my hand and placing it on the table.

  I blamed the alcohol for my next stupid drunken outburst.

  “Why did you call me legs? I mean, they are just legs, nothing special about my legs. Everyone has them—two in fact,” I announced. Then, again blaming the booze, I swung my legs out from under the table and hitched up my skirt so my thighs were completely exposed to everyone to see.

  Alcohol, definitely the alcohol.

  6

  I couldn’t look away.

  My eyes were riveted on the pale blue lace panties Jamie wore and was showing me without even realising it. In her drunken state, she’d slid her tight skirt right up to show me her delicious thighs and in doing so, unveiled so much more.

  My tongue dried as I willed myself to look away, but I just couldn’t. I wanted Jamie so fucking badly. Every cell in my body screamed that I pick her up and take her to my room, slam the door and ravish her with my tongue, mouth, and cock.