“Ten-four, let’s drown this bitch.”
The upstairs is too engulfed for us to check, and there is a carport, no garage, so we don’t have to worry about that. Cal and I make our way back out front after clearing the house, and Saul and Remi are working the fire from the ground.
“Cal, you’re Charlie side with Oliver,” I tell him, referring to the back of the house and he takes one of the hoses around back. I head toward the front door to spray inside. The flames are raging and quickly creeping down the stairs.
I move a little farther in, and Remi’s voice clicks to life in my ear. “Be careful, Chief.”
I listen to him and take a step back. It’s hot as hell in here, but together we work hard to get the fire under control. It doesn’t take us too long, and as the last of the flames turn to a smolder, I let a smile tug my lips as emotion swells inside my chest. I’m proud of what we do.
Walking away from the house, I scan the sea of people all standing on the opposite sidewalk watching us. The homeowner is clear to me. A woman stands, clinging to her cat, sobbing. God, I hate seeing people upset like this, but I also remind myself that they got out alive. Not everyone is so lucky. My parents died in a house fire when I was in my third year of college.
Thinking about them both being ripped from this world too soon still hurts me to this day. And that alone is the sole reason why I dedicated myself to becoming a firefighter, so others didn’t have to go through what I have, and now I’m the first female fire chief in our division. If I can save other families the heartache I’ve gone through, then I’ve done my job.
Chapter 3
Remi
“You guys really kicked ass today, you know that?” Jill says after we get back to the station.
Her blue eyes glimmer in the low light of the fire station, and the black soot that is smeared across her face is so fucking sexy I almost drop my resolve not to hit on her. I don’t think she has a clue how beautiful she is.
“Thanks for getting us safely through another fire,” Cal says to Jill as I grab a Gatorade from the fridge.
“It wasn’t all me, you guys did it too,” she responds and then heads off to shower. I can smell the smoke and soot on me but have to down the rest of my Gatorade before I can shower.
Walking into my room, a rattle of nerves shakes through me. What if we get a call while we’re all showering? So far, we haven’t, and if we ever do, we’d rush as fast as we normally do to leave.
After I’m showered, I head to the kitchen for a bite to eat and find Saul already seated at the table holding his iPad.
“Holy shit, man, did you see this?” he asks, eyes glancing up from the screen.
I don’t have a clue what he’s referring to, so I shake my head. Then he shows me his iPad, and as I step closer to him I know right away it isn’t his, it’s Jill’s.
Across the screen is a notification from a dating website, declaring, “You have twelve new matches, don’t let them slip away.”
What the fuck? She’s on a dating website?
“You better put that shit down,” I tell him, but being the dumb fucker that he is, he doesn’t listen, and before I know it, he has half the station passing around her iPad. If she catches them, she’ll kill them.
“You should join, too, Remi,” Cal says to me and bumps my shoulder. I shake my head and head outside, which is about as far away from the kitchen as I can get. I know Jill is going to walk in on their stupid asses, and I want no part of it whatsoever.
It’s a warm California evening. I pick up a basketball from where someone left it, dribble it a few times, and then shoot is toward the net. I miss the shot, but that’s typical. I’m a lousy basketball player. You’d think my height would help me, but it doesn’t.
I shoot the ball again, wondering why Jill is looking for someone on a dating site. I mean, she’s gorgeous and caring and in my eyes a ten out of a ten. As hard as it would be for me, maybe I should just talk to her about how I’m feeling. The worst that could happen is she’d laugh in my face, but even then, at least I’d know.
Setting the ball to the ground, I pull out my cell phone and remember what Cal said, “You should join, too.” I can’t lie, it isn’t the worst idea. It would be a neutral place we could talk, and I could get to know what she’s looking for in a guy.
But if she knew it was me, she’s run for the hills. What am I even thinking? Or . . . I can pretend to be someone else, just while getting to know her. It has to help my chances.
With my mind made up, I Google the site she used, and on top of the screen, it says: Find your Match for FREE today only! The banner flashes repeatedly, annoying me to no end.
I can’t believe people really do this to find someone. As I fill out the profile, I stay as close to the truth as I dare. I answer all the questions honestly, but I pick a mostly fake name: R.J. Smith. At least the R.J. part isn’t fake since those are my initials. And then it asks me for my profile picture. Damn, I didn’t think about that. I look out at the sunset, the sky is a mixture of orange and blue, blue like Jill’s eyes, and I snap a picture of it. If we do connect, she could possibly realize the picture was taken right outside the station, which wouldn’t be a bad thing.
I hit submit, and my stomach rumbles. Hoping the guys have put the damn iPad away, I head back in to eat, which is what I planned to do before we got called out, and for the first time in a long time, I’m excited by what the future might hold for Jill and me.
A few of the guys are watching television in the living room, and the others must be chilling in their bunks. Thankfully, no one is screaming, and Saul isn’t lying bleeding on the floor, so Jill must not have caught him. She is in the kitchen, looking as sexy as ever as she makes herself a sandwich.
“Hey, you want one?” she asks when she notices me watching her.
“Uh, yeah. Sure, but you don’t have to make it.” This earns me a roll of her eyes as she reaches for two more slices of bread. That’s one of the things about Jill that I find so fucking sexy. She always takes care of us.
I stand in the kitchen as she keeps handing me back the items that need to go back into the fridge. I happily put them away, figuring we’ll sit and eat at the table. But she passes me one of the sandwiches before heading off to her office.
“Thanks,” I tell her, and she gives me a wave with her free hand.
Instead of sitting at the table or moving to the living room, I peace out and head to my room. Since we live and work with a girl, we all have our own private rooms.
As soon as my door is closed, my cell phone vibrates. I set my sandwich down and pull it out to see a message from the dating site: Congratulations! Your account has been approved. Start finding your matches today.
Before I even take a bite of my food, I sit on my bed and search for Jill’s name. A list of profiles pops up, and when I spot her picture, my heart catches fire.
God, she is truly the most beautiful woman in the world. I click on the image. In her picture, she is wearing a pair of jeans and a tight, green T-shirt. Her hair is down and blowing in the wind. She has her hands in her back pockets and a wide grin on her face. I’ve never seen her like this. I’ve only ever seen her in her work uniform with her hair in a bun, and I thought that was hot. But this? Jill is five-alarm make-you-drool-just-looking-at-her hot. My body reacts, and I shift, looking down at my dick, which is at half-mast.
Really? What would I do if we got a call right now?
But that worry doesn’t last long as I become engrossed in her profile, reading all about her interests. When I get to the bottom of the page, there is a button that says: Connect.
My heart is pounding, I want to click it so badly, but if I do, what do I say to her? Hey, I got a hard-on when I saw your picture, oh, and I promise I’m not a creep.
Chapter 4
Jill
I swear to God, this whole online dating thing is such a waste of time. I can’t tell you how many loser guys have sent me messages. I don’t know what
I was thinking to begin with. Did I really believe I’d meet the perfect guy and we’d fall insanely in love?
Maybe I did.
Clearly, that isn’t the case, so I pull up the app and search through the settings for the deactivate button. However, before I can find it, I get a new notification, and this one is different from the others. The profile picture is not of some guy taken back when he was in high school, it’s a sunset, and the message that comes along with it makes me pause.
R.J. Smith: You changed your profile pic.
Jill Terrano: I did, do I know you?
R.J. Smith: No, I just noticed. I meant to message you the other day, but I chickened out.
Jill Terrano: Really?
R.J. Smith: Yup, guilty as charged. So . . . why’d you change your picture?
Jill Terrano: For starters, I was getting very explicit messages, and the guys on here are not all that, no offense.
R.J. Smith: None taken
Jill Terrano: Good, but I won’t have to worry about that any longer. I’m closing my account.
R.J. Smith: Why?
Jill Terrano: I just told you why, so good luck on your search.
R.J. Smith: My search? What am I looking for when I already found you?
Jill Terrano: You don’t even know me.
R.J. Smith: But I want to.
Jill Terrano: Goodbye, R.J. Smith!
Lying in my bed, I realize I have a grin on my face. I don’t even know what the guy looks like and I’m smiling. He’s probably like four hundred pounds and shoving Cheetos into his face at this very moment. So, I go back to what I was doing, which was shutting down this account. But again, before I can, the guy messages me again.
R.J. Smith: I can see you’re still online.
I ignore him, figuring he’s as creepy as the rest.
R.J. Smith: Please don’t go.
Jill Terrano: Oh my God, you’re a piece of work, you know that?
R.J. Smith: So you aren’t leaving?
Jill Terrano: Oh, I totally am, but every time I try to go, you interrupt me.
R.J. Smith: Well, I’m not going to stop. I mean even if you shut your account down I’ll just show up at your work.
Jill Terrano: How do you know where I work?
R.J. Smith: The shirt you’re wearing in your new profile pic has your engine number on it.
I look at the picture, and sure enough, it does. How the hell did I not notice that? I mean it is small, but still, it’s there.
Jill Terrano: So you’re in EMS, too?
R.J. Smith: Sort of . . .
Jill Terrano: What does that mean?
R.J. Smith: I’m training to become a firefighter.
Jill Terrano: Well, you better not want to work here, because I don’t date my employees.
R.J. Smith: So you’re the boss?
Jill Terrano: I am.
And with that, R.J. and I get swept away into a whirlwind of conversation.
Chapter 5
Remi
“What’s with the smile?” Cal asks as I skim through my and Jill’s conversation from last night.
“What smile?” I respond, realizing that the sides of my mouth are curved up into a cheesy ass smirk.
“Uh, the shit-eating grin that’s across your face. What’s with it?”
“Dude, you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” I tell him as Jill emerges from her room, looking as tired as I feel. But we did stay up almost all night talking.
“And she’s alive!” Saul teases Jill, who flips him off and heads directly for the coffee.
My cock throbs as I catch sight of her ass walking in front of me. Really? I rest my head against the back of my chair and look at the ceiling, willing it to go down.
“We were starting to worry about you,” Cal teases her.
“Oh, I’m sure you were.”
“We were. Tell her, Remi.”
“Yeah, for sure we were,” I agree, and she rolls her eyes at me.
God, the things I’d like to do to her when she does that are unreal.
“Morning,” Mark says as he comes up the stairs to begin his shift.
“Did you guys see that skinny ass dog lying by the dumpster in the lot?”
I have no clue what the fuck he is talking about, and obviously, the other guys are just as lost. Together we all head outside, and tucked into a tiny, frail ball is a gray-and-white dog. He looks emaciated—ribs showing, fur thin, head down.
Slowly, we approach, and I’m sure he’ll run off, but he just lets out a scared whine and shrinks in on himself more. Clearly, he’s on his last leg.
“Damn, he needs a vet.” I crouch in front of him to get a better look at the poor guy.
“No shit,” Cal says.
“Help me lift him, and I’ll take him. If that’s okay, Chief?”
Jill nods.
“You think he’ll bite us?” Cal asks, and I can tell by his submissive behavior and exhausted eyes the dog is harmless.
“Nah. We’ll be okay.” Cal and I lift him and load him into the back of my SUV, the dog is so light I could’ve done it on my own.
“Are you sure I can leave?” I ask Jill again.
“Yeah, he obviously needs help, and that is what we do. Saul can stay until you get back.”
“Thanks, I’ll be back,” I tell everyone and hop into my car.
Putting it into reverse, I back out and then drive away. The closest veterinarian office is just down the street. The poor pup whines with every dip and divot we hit, and I feel terrible for him. Call me a pussy or whatever you want, but a hurt animal is one of the worst things to me.
“It’s okay, bud,” I tell him as I wait at a light before turning into the parking lot. Then I park and rush inside, striding directly to the reception desk where an older woman is shuffling paperwork.
“Excuse me. I found a stray dog that’s in pretty bad shape, can I bring him in?”
“Yeah, of course. Do you want help?”
“Uh, just with the doors if you would. He’s pretty skinny.”
Together, the woman—Tracy, if her nametag is correct—and I head outside.
“Where did you find him?” I open the rear hatch, and we both look at the sad blue-eyed dog.
“He was in the parking lot of our fire station.” I lift him, cradling his tired body against my chest. Tracy closes the back of my car and then opens the door for me before leading the way to an exam room.
I lay him on the table, and she pops out, coming back a few seconds later with two other people in tow.
“This is Dr. Alvarez and Michelle, one of our technicians,” she says.
“Thank you guys for helping him. I work at the fire station down the road, and he was just lying in our lot this morning.”
The vet listens to the dog’s heart and breathing with his stethoscope before ordering Michelle to get an IV and what is probably some kind of antibiotic.
“Do you know who his owner is?” Tracy asks me.
“No, he wasn’t wearing a collar, and I’ve never seen him before. Can you check to see if he has a chip or anything?”
“We’ll check.” Michelle takes a handheld scanner from one of the drawers in the exam room and runs it over his back as the vet inserts the IV. “No chip,” she says.
Damn, poor guy was abandoned. I can’t help but run a comforting hand over the dogs face. He licks my arm, and I pray that he’ll be okay.
***
“What’d I miss?” I ask everyone at the firehouse as I walk through the door.
“Not much, minus Jill falling on her ass!” Saul says and gets off the sofa I’m assuming to head out.
“I did not fall,” she hollers after him, and he gives her a mocking, “Yeah, okay,” in return. Everyone else is sitting in the living room, and I take the first open chair I see, which happens to be close to Jill.
“So, how’s the dog?” she asks.
“Not good, he’s really malnourished.”
“Do the
y think he’ll make it?”
“They’re hoping.”
“What about his owners?”
“They don’t have a clue. He doesn’t have a microchip and is pretty young. So . . . to be in the shape that he is, he has either always been a stray or has been treated badly.”
“You could put out an ad online for him.”
“Shhhh,” Cal says, and Jill narrows her eyes at him.
“Don’t you have cleaning to do?”
Huffing, Cal tosses the remote to Mark, who is half asleep on the couch and pushes to his feet to go grab the cleaning supplies.
“I would if he’d been taken care of, but not with how mistreated he was.”
“Yeah, that’s true. Did they tell you what’s going to happen to him?”
“Not really. They asked me if I wanted him, and I would take him, but with my work schedule and . . .”
“Just let him live here,” Mark mumbles, and we both glance at him as he cracks open one eye at us.
“No way,” Jill says.
“Why not?” Mark sits up, seeming to now be fully awake.
“Because we don’t need some stray dog in here getting in the way.”
“It’s really no different than dealing with Cal.”
We all bust up laughing as Mr. Clean just shakes his head at us from the kitchen. “You know, it isn’t the worst idea,” I tell Jill, and she crosses her arms over her chest before throwing herself back in her chair.
“Are you pouting over this?” I tease her.
“No, it’s just you guys always get your way, and for once, it’d be nice if you’d listen to me.”
“That’s bullshit, and you know it, Jill. We all listen to you, all the time,” I tell her.
“I don’t,” Cal hollers.
Says the guy who got up to go clean after she told him to.
“This isn’t about us listening to you, this is about the life of a poor, neglected dog. Do you really not want to help him?”
“Don’t make me be the bad guy here,” she says, and I give her a smirk.
Burn Me Anthology Page 24
