Firefighter Christmas Complete Series Box Set (A Firefighter Holiday Romance Love Story)
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He’d been married to the same woman for fifteen years, but they’d been together since their junior year of high school. They had two kids — a daughter and a son — and seeing the four of them together made even the hardest, wildest man want exactly what Hector had.
I’d told Lacey that once and she’d turned her nose up at the idea of having kids. My body’s perfect, she’d said. Why would I want to ruin it by getting knocked up? In retrospect, that should have been a giant red flag, but the sex was good, and we’d been close to having some of it on the night she made that comment. I figured she’d come around when the time came. It hadn’t concerned me more than getting in between her legs, in other words. Even thinking about how great she was in bed now got me rock hard. I had to keep reminding myself that my bed wasn’t the only one she was climbing into.
“Everyone has a soulmate waiting for them,” Hector said. “I was lucky enough to find mine at sixteen.”
Johnny grinned and rolled his eyes. He’d made it pretty clear he planned to stay a playboy for the rest of his life. He got bored after a few weeks with the same person, said it had to do with his mild ADD. Hector said it had more to do with him being a shallow asshole, which busted the three of us up immediately, Johnny laughing harder than anyone else.
“Yeah, I don’t know about that,” I said.
“Don’t give up on finding a good woman,” Hector replied. “She’s out there somewhere, but you have to keep an open mind.”
Johnny leaned to drop the dumbbells at his feet. “I agree with the part about not giving up. There are plenty of hot ladies out there who can’t wait to date a fireman.”
I laid back on the bench and put my hands on either side of the bar. Johnny drifted over to spot me again as I lifted it.
“I’m definitely not giving up,” I said and started my next rep. But I knew I also had to give myself a much needed a break after the fiery whirlwind that was Lacey blew out of my life, leaving everything torn up and smoking in her wake.
Chapter Four – Sami – Late December
I went to the fridge for another soda, still listening to my mom drone on about how petty the other women in her bunco group could be. There was always something outrageous going on in that damned group. It was like a soap opera. I didn’t even know these women, but it felt like I did because I got weekly updates about the goings on in their lives — who was on whose shit list, whose kids were on drugs or getting divorced, and whose spouse was going through some terrible ordeal. It sounded like high school, but these people were all in their sixties and seventies.
“What are the final plans for Christmas?” I asked after letting the drama completely unfold. It was difficult to feign interest in the bunco intrigue every month, but my work as a realtor certainly gave me enough practice. “I can only make it down for the weekend. I have closings the Tuesday after the holiday, but that still leaves four days at home.”
Mom didn’t answer right away. She lived a few hours outside of Seattle, and I wanted to nail down the details before it got to be too late. It wasn’t like I had to book a plane ticket, but I was a planner and the holiday was a week away. I was tired of the plans being up in the air.
“Is someone not coming?” I knew my sister Linda was forever trying to get out of any kind of family get-together. But this was Christmas. There was no getting out of that. Right? I thought. I’d been looking forward to baking cookies and making dinner in the family kitchen. I was even looking forward to the inevitable fights. Dad had died a few years before, so it would just be the four of us, but that was all I wanted.
“Linda can’t make it,” Mom said, sighing. “Something about work.” I’d thought Linda was unemployed, but didn’t bother to say anything. Mom could get surprisingly defensive on the subject of her eldest daughter.
“But Mike’s still coming, right?” My baby brother wasn’t quite as self-centered as my older sister, though he was a lot flightier. He’d joined the Peace Corps for a while, which had kept him overseas in Africa for quite some time. He was back in the States now, but on the east coast. Mom would pay for his plane ticket if that was the issue. I’d be happy to kick in, too. I wasn’t rolling in money, but I was doing okay for myself.
“He’s dating someone new, some girl without a family, and he doesn’t want to leave her alone over the holidays,” Mom answered. She didn’t sound happy about it, but she was the type who didn’t trouble herself about things she couldn’t change for long. It was simultaneously her best and worst quality.
“He can’t bring her home with him?” As I was asking, I knew it wasn’t an option. Not after last time.
Mike had a tendency to date women you wouldn’t necessarily want to bring home to your family. The last one had stayed drunk from the time from they arrived on the Tuesday before Thanksgiving until they left the Saturday after the holiday. She’d even brought her own jug of wine, which she had to replenish often with frequent trips to the liquor store. We got to see plenty of fun arguments between them, including a drunken screaming match on the front lawn where she accused Mike of cheating on her. We also got to hear them having loud, angry makeup sex in his childhood room, right next to mine. It had been a relief to everyone when he broke up with Melanie.
Mom sighed again. “Honestly, dear, I didn’t even ask. After the last girl, I really don’t want any other strange people your brother knows staying at my house. Maybe we can all just do our own thing for the holidays this year.”
I slumped into the only armchair in my living room and stared at my tiny Christmas tree in the corner, lit with twinkling lights that shone off the hanging strands of tinsel. I had to remember to water it as soon as I got off the phone with mom. It was looking a little dry.
“Sami? Are you still there?”
“Yeah, I’m still here.” It was a struggle to keep the disappointment out of my voice. “I was looking forward to seeing everyone over the holidays, but…” Mom jumped in to pick up when I left off, not sure how to finish the sentence without sounding bitter.
“We can get together after New Year’s. There’s too much pressure around Christmas anyway.
And, besides, don’t you have someone special to snuggle up with this Christmas?” Mom asked, her tone lightly teasing.
My mood, already low, sank even further. I hadn’t really wanted to get into this during the phone call, though I supposed it would have come up if we’d all gotten together in person at her house.
“No,” I admitted, coming right out with it. The woman could sniff out a lie from a mile away. It just wasn’t worth the trouble. “I’m not seeing anyone.”
“Still?”
I leaned my head onto the back of the armchair and closed my eyes, counting to five before I let myself answer. “I keep pretty busy with work.”
“I find it hard to believe that you have absolutely no free time to date, Sami.”
I abandoned the work argument and went at this another way, hoping to smother this discussion before it became a raging dumpster fire. “It’s not that I don’t have free time, I just haven’t been asked out by anyone I was interested in. I don’t go to the right places, I guess. I don’t know.”
This conversation was physically painful. My body felt suddenly sluggish and my stomach was tight. I could also feel a headache coming on, starting as a slight throb in my temples.
“Maybe your standards are too high,” Mom replied.
“Thanks for that.”
She made a disagreeable noise, like I was being needlessly obtuse. “I don’t mean pull someone out of the gutter. You know your worth. But life isn’t like a fairytale. You can’t keep waiting for your Prince Charming.”
“I’m not really that picky,” I said — unless wanting a guy to have a decent job and basic standards of hygiene had suddenly become picky, and then I definitely was. “But no one has asked me out in weeks.” I didn’t count the guy outside of the gas station who had asked for money first and then if I wanted to grab a cup of coffee with hi
m…from the gas station, my treat.
“This isn’t the eighteenth century, Sami. Remember the women’s liberation movement? You can ask a guy out now. They like that. I saw it on a talk show.”
I clenched my teeth to keep a smartass reply from shooting out and further sinking this already unpleasant phone call. No family Christmas and now I got to hear about how pathetic my dating life was, which I already knew.
“What about one of those dating websites?” she asked, soldiering on though I hadn’t said anything in reply to her last unhelpful comment. “Linda was just telling me about some app she was using. You might want to give her a call and ask about it.”
There were only a few people I would voluntarily discuss my dating life with. My older sister wasn’t one of them. Of course, neither was my mother and, yet, here we were.
“I’ll look into it,” I said, just to move us off the subject. I knew better than to argue with her. That would only make things worse.
“You could always light something on fire and ask out the first cute firefighter who shows up. Most of them are great to look at. Maybe a little too young for me, but there’s no harm in looking as long as I keep my hands to myself.”
I groaned, but couldn’t help smiling, too. “Mom, you are ridiculous.”
When she started laughing, I couldn’t help but join in.
Chapter Five – Blaze – Christmas Day
I sat down across from Johnny at the big wooden dining room table at the station. Hector had whipped up his famous firehouse chili — just about everything we made here had the word firehouse stuck to the front of it — and we were both on our second bowls. Each man at the firehouse had his specialty dish, and we all took turns cooking. Hector had his chili, I had my meatloaf, and Johnny had his chicken casserole.
“I’ll never get tired of this shit,” Johnny said and scooped another spoonful into his mouth. We couldn’t drink on duty, so we each had a large glass of non-alcoholic sparkling apple cider to accompany our meals.
I mumbled my agreement, my mouth too full of chili, onions, and cheese to answer.
We were most of the way through our second helpings when the klaxon went off over our heads, the sound echoing through every corner of the station. We jumped from our seats, leaving our dishes behind, and ran out of the dining room.
The red lights were flashing in the hallway, the blaring sound of the klaxon seeming to come from everywhere. We ran out to the bays, joining every available man in the station, and went to our areas to suit up. I pulled my turnout jacket and pants on over the basic uniform I wore around the department, put on my helmet, slid my feet into my rubber steel-toed boots, and stuffed my gloves into the deep pockets of my jacket next to several other tools that came in handy when I was out on a call.
I jumped onto the truck in front of Johnny. Hector was at the wheel. As soon as the rest of the guys had climbed into position, we took off, sirens blaring.
It only took a little over five minutes to get to the site. Several people were standing around outside, a safe distance from the front of the small condo that had smoke billowing from the chimney. The fire hadn’t gotten too serious, though, as no smoke was escaping out of the front door the homeowner had left open after he or she ran outside.
We set up the hose and rushed through the open door. The source of the fire was in the corner of the room right inside of the front entrance: a small Christmas tree, fully engulfed in flames. It hadn’t yet spread to the rest of the living room, making it easy enough to put out.
Once we’d killed the flames, I did a quick inspection of the area, leaning to check out some of the debris. It looked like the trouble had been an overly dry tree combined with old fashioned string lights. It happened all the time. Those bulbs got hot as hell the longer you left them on. In the right conditions, it didn’t take much for them to ignite.
Fortunately for the homeowner, the tree was right next to a brick fireplace, which had absorbed most of the abuse from the flames, leaving behind some scorching that would be simple to clean up. There was fire damage to the adjacent wall and floor, not to mention the house smelled like an extremely smoky camp fire, but it could have been a lot worse. I couldn’t count the amount of times I’d seen people watch their entire house go down in flames with every material thing they held dear inside of it. I was glad we’d been able to put out the fire before the homeowner lost everything on Christmas Day. Not that there was ever a great time to suffer a complete loss, but it would be extra shitty on today of all days.
The men and I conferred briefly with each other and then stepped out of the small condo. The crowd had only gotten bigger, the way it always did when something tragic happens. I ignored the spectators and started looking around for the homeowner. It was usually the person standing around in shock, crying, or belting off obscenities faster that you could count. People dealt with loss in their own way, but there was definitely a pattern.
“Excuse me?”
I turned and my mouth dropped open.
A dark-haired woman was standing in the grass right behind me. Calling her gorgeous wouldn’t be right. She was far beyond that, so pretty just looking at her was like staring hard into the sun. You felt a little dazed and like you weren’t seeing clearly anymore — the most you could do was blink to try to get rid of the little sparkling coronas clouding your field of vision. I swore I saw a halo around her oval face, illuminating her high cheekbones and the creamy skin of her forehead.
Her dark eyes were deep enough to fall into and never reach the bottom. She was dressed simply in jeans and a sweater, her arms pulled tightly around herself to keep warm, and her long black hair draped over her shoulders. Her pink lips curved into a shy smile as she looked up at me. She couldn’t be any taller than five foot seven or eight, so she had to look up quite a bit.
I was used to that. Lacey was five four. The girl before her had been the tallest at five ten, but she’d still been significantly shorter than I was. Not that I was complaining. I’d rather be well past six feet than struggling to just barely make five nine like Johnny’s short ass. He’d lied for years about being five eleven until we pulled out the measuring tape one night and forced him against a wall to measure him.
“Can I help you, Miss?” I asked and sincerely hoped that whatever she needed, I was the only man here who could provide it.
Her smile got a little wider, and she answered in a gentle tone that didn’t match the busyness of the nearly tragic scene around us at all. “I live here. This is my condo.”
I was finding it hard to answer her. It was that staring into the sun thing. I felt like a man who’d been trapped in the dark for a long time and had finally stumbled back out into the sunshine again. It was taking way too long for me to get over how dazzling she was, not just her smile, but her whole calm, confident demeanor.
“My name’s Sami Lace,” she said as she extended her small, long fingered hand, her nails painted with cherry red polish.
I tugged off my glove and shook her hand, holding on slightly longer than I had to. I noticed she didn’t seem to mind. “I’m Blaze Simmers,” I said with the same wide grin I gave anyone when I told them my name for the first time, especially when I was on the job.
Sami lifted her dark eyebrows, eyes widening in surprise and pretty mouth smiling even more. “Seriously?”
I shrugged. “What can I say? My parents must’ve wanted a fireman in the family.”
She gave a tinkling laugh, lifting her hand to cover her mouth. “What could you be besides a fireman with a name like that?”
“Exactly,” I replied, grinning wider. I could stand out here for the rest of the night just going back and forth with her and basking in the warm feeling of her eyes on me, but I did have a job to do. “Ms. Lace, do you want me to walk you through the damage? It really isn’t that bad. After you air out the area, you should even be able to sleep here tonight.”
“Really?”
I nodded and motioned for her to step in
to the house ahead of me. Another woman darted in front of me before either of us got the chance to walk through the door. I was about to order her to clear the scene when Sami linked arms with her.
“This is my best friend Amy Green,” she introduced.
The other woman was dressed in sweatpants and a long sleeved t-shirt, her hair pulled back flat against her head in a bushy ponytail. She was extremely attractive, too — with flawless bronze skin and full lips, long limbs, and a tiny, trim middle — but I could barely appreciate the look of her. Something about Sami kept walloping me in the stomach.
I nodded at Amy. “Blaze Simmers.”
She gave me a sardonic grin, her dark eyes gleaming the way Sami’s just had. “Seriously? Blaze Simmers, the fireman?”
“That’s what I said!” Sami giggled again softly while Amy narrowed her eyes at me, sizing me up the way I was sizing up the both of them. I’d seen the look before and knew she wasn’t quite convinced. This exact exchange happened to me at least a few times every week.
“That sounds fake as hell,” she said.
“It’s my God-given name,” I replied. “Scout’s honor.” Amy didn’t appear to be buying it.
Sami glanced over at her. “He was just about to show me the damage.”
The girls turned and went in together, still attached at the arm. I followed them, fully enjoying the sight of Sami’s small round ass in her skinny jeans. Amy drew in a deep, gasping breath at the sight of the extinguished fire. Sami just stood staring, seeming thoroughly stunned, and I felt a stab of guilt for looking her up and down so hard just a few seconds ago.
“It looks a lot worse than it actually is,” I said, for what it was worth. All she had to be thinking about was how badly her living room was ruined. Once she got the tree out of here and scrubbed down the fireplace, she’d see it wasn’t as terrible as it appeared. “I’ve seen people suffer total losses over a Christmas tree bursting into flames. You were really lucky it didn’t spread.”
Sami turned to look at me with her wide, glassy eyes. “What could have caused this?”