Into the Flames

by Multi-Author

  The thought brought an unexpected lump to his throat.

  Knox stepped into the cab of the cherry picker, turned, and lifted Lexi into his arms. Damn, she was light, or maybe she made him feel strong. The way she wrapped her hands around his neck, lifted her bare feet, and smiled up at him with admiration shining in her gorgeous eyes made his crack about the chariot seem like the right thing to say. Screw the guys and what they might think if they knew. He was the one holding the beautiful woman in his arms, and she was the one looking at him as if he could save the world. He released the tether securing her body to the tree and let it fall.

  Knox grinned down at her. “I’ve always wanted to say that.”

  Lexi tightened her hold on him. “There’s not a woman alive who wouldn’t want to hear it.”

  Were his ears burning? His heart rate soared. Were they actually flirting?

  He resisted the urge to let his gaze wander over the peaks of Lexi’s breasts beneath the filmy fabric of her nightgown, or linger on the circle at her navel. That ring would tempt any red-blooded American male to explore it with his tongue.

  In any other circumstance, he would have pursued this woman without a second thought. Sadly, he knew that opportunity would never come, since contact with victims after a rescue was strictly off limits. His captain would release him from the team for the infraction, and losing his career and his future would mean the end of him. Knox couldn’t imagine any other life than the one he had in West Arbor.

  Lexi’s breath wafted over his cheek because her lips were only inches away from his mouth. He let himself appreciate her lovely face, the pale freckles sprinkled over her nose, and the way her lips curved up at the corners.

  He could remain professional and enjoy the sight of a beautiful woman in his arms, couldn’t he? Where was the harm? When Lexi stared back and her eyes lighted when they met his, she made him feel valued in a way he’d never experienced with anyone else. Suddenly, he felt bigger. Stronger. More.

  The cherry picker had almost completed its descent when the cab jostled against an unruly branch and Lexi tilted in his arms. Knox planted his feet more firmly on the floor in counterforce to keep her stable. “Sorry about that,” he said.

  He looked down the same instant Lexi looked up, and before he knew it, her lips brushed his in a barely-there kiss. Her mouth tasted full and yielding and the contact jolted his senses like the flashpoint in a smoldering fire. No kiss he’d ever shared had moved him this way.

  Something that had died inside him returned to life, and he wanted more than anything to kiss her again and fuel the spark between them.

  When their lips parted, he felt his eyes widen, and hers widened too, but before either of them could say a word, Marcus was at their side holding out a blanket and covering Lexi’s shoulders. Lucy, their paramedic, and her EMT were rushing forward with a backboard.

  “We’ll take her from here,” Lucy said. Lexi was swept from Knox’s arms.

  “Take care,” he said. The words sounded hollow and coldly professional, in stark contrast to the deeply satisfying way holding Lexi had made him feel. He only dared to imagine what her body would have felt like against his skin—supple, smooth, and welcoming, had he not been protected by his turnout coat.

  Maybe it was better he didn’t know. It would make not seeing her again easier.

  Fear flashed inside her eyes as she was secured to the board with safety straps, and that fear made him want to lift her into his arms again to keep her safe.

  “It’ll be okay,” he said, uttering the most useless words ever spoken, instead of telling her he would have gone with her, had that not broken protocol.

  Knox watched while the most beautiful woman he’d ever met was whisked away to the waiting ambulance and out of his life.

  Chapter Four

  Back at the station house, Knox headed to the shower, but not before he snagged a strip of bacon and a slice of toast in the kitchen from Derek Chang on his way to the locker room.

  “Hot food in twenty,” Chang called after him. “I got fresh blueberries this morning for pancakes. Real maple syrup from Vermont.”

  Knox wolfed down the appetizers and his stomach rumbled with anticipation. “Thanks, man. Appreciate it.”

  He’d stripped off his turnouts and boots at the truck, and pulled off his West Arbor standard issue t-shirt and chinos when he reached his locker. Socks and boxers hit the floor next.

  He eyed the color photo taped on the inside of his locker door of the little girl with blonde hair like his and his brother Ben’s, and the biggest blue eyes he’d ever seen. “No peeking at my butt, Chelsea,” he teased. If she were able to answer, she’d giggle like mad at the word butt.

  Though he’d never see his precious niece again, except in heaven, he still liked to pretend they could hang out the way they had until six months ago. He’d spent every spare second with her at Ben’s kitchen table between her treatments, building the model castle she wanted for her room, before that fucking blood disease tore her from her parents and stole Chelsea from their family.

  The castle sat on the desk in his apartment looking more like a wreck than a half-done project, but he didn’t have the guts to either destroy the thing or finish it. If he didn’t talk to Chelsea’s picture from time to time to defuse his anger over the injustice of a sick kid, he might just blow.

  His temper had become difficult to control, but he was working on it. Talking to Chelsea’s photo helped him cope, especially after a tough shift. The counselor said it was okay—it didn’t mean he’d lost his mind, because he knew exactly what he was doing.

  He was grieving.

  “I met a woman I think you’d like,” he said. “I liked her a lot, and want to get to know her better. Unfortunately, she’s off limits.” Frustration bubbled in his solar plexus and he wanted to hit something. Since he couldn’t, he merely clenched his fists and took deep breaths.

  He could almost hear Chelsea repeat the word “unfortunately” in five funny syllables, as eight-year-olds tended to do.

  “Yeah. Sucks.”

  Guilt struck, and the pangs hit him hard enough to need support from his locker door. What right did he have to be happy, or even think about being happy, when his family had been torn apart by tragedy?

  He hadn’t dated in a long while. Grief had merely extended his voluntary abstinence. It was tough to form relationships with women who could tolerate the uncertainty of shift work and deal with the stress of his dangerous job. Casual dates with badge bunnies, marking their time until someone more stable came along, didn’t interest him. Firefighters might make great calendars, but the reality of their lives was much less glamorous.

  He grabbed a clean towel from the locker room stack and strode naked to a shower stall, letting the hot water and steam revive him. With luck, the FBI caught the arsonist who was making everyone’s lives miserable, and Lexi Wentworth got a clean bill of health and was sent home.

  He scrubbed the shower gel over his skin, and bubbles slid over the fire and rescue hook and axe tatted on his biceps. Soap skidded over the Maltese cross inked on his chest. He’d gotten that after his first day on the job.

  His right bicep depicted a helmet surrounded by fire, with the number 6, his identity number, placed in the center. He’d chosen that one after his first firefight.

  A line from the firefighter’s glorious prayer was tattooed on the inside of his lower left arm when he fully appreciated the sanctity of his commitment to his community. It said: Help me be loyal and true, respectful and honorable, obedient and valiant. Thus fortified by virtue, I shall have no fear.

  He slapped his abs, testing for even a hint of softness, and finding none, proceeded to wash the rest of his body. His palm skimmed the thick scar above his right knee where he’d been slashed by jagged metal while rescuing victims from a warehouse fire.

  Not every day at work could be as simple as a car fire, or a precautionary roadblock after an acc
ident, or no emergency at all.

  He washed his hair and let the jets of hot water ease the muscles of his neck and back while rivulets of soapy water traveled over his torso and streamed past his legs.

  Lexi’s pretty face filtered through his head while his muscles relaxed. He wondered how the injury to her leg had turned out, and whether she’d experienced emotional trauma. Unseen damage was often worse than physical injuries.

  He hoped she’d be okay. Her crazy predicament, her even crazier outfit, and the crazy way she’d muddled his brain with her gorgeous eyes haunted him. She wasn’t the first person he’d rescued in a day’s work—far from it—but she was certainly the one who’d affected him most. He even worried about her cat and hoped Ginger was all right.

  He couldn’t shake the woman from his thoughts, especially when his lips still burned from the kiss she’d given him. Or he’d given her, when the cherry picker tilted. Yeah, he was sure he’d kissed her because he’d wanted to so badly, which also meant career suicide if she complained. He hoped not, since the kiss had tattooed itself to his mouth almost the way the number six had been tatted to his arm.

  Some things were meant to be remembered.

  He shook off mental pictures of the way Lexi looked in that frilly next-to-nothing nightgown, and finished rinsing before he embarrassed himself in front of team members who’d entered the locker room.

  Knox stepped from the stall, wrapped his towel around his waist, and held it closed in front with his fist, hurrying to his locker before his traitorous body gave him away.

  He avoided looking at Chelsea’s photo while he redressed. His lingering thoughts about Lexi were far from G-rated and definitely not open for discussion.

  * * *

  Inside the communal kitchen, dressed in clean West Arbor t-shirt and chinos, and ready for chow, Knox poured himself a fresh cup of coffee and joined Marcus and the rest of the crew for breakfast. Chang delivered blueberry-loaded, piping-hot pancakes, stacks of crisp bacon, and a bowl of scrambled eggs to the table. He’d even warmed maple syrup in a pitcher to keep the pancakes hot when the liquid hit the plate.

  When Knox poured the Vermont goodness over the slab of butter in the middle of his pancake stack, the butter pooled, and then drizzled down the sides. He let out a groan, ran his fork through the fluffy pile, and stuffed his mouth. He closed his eyes. Pure heaven. When he finished chewing and swallowing, he said, “Chang, I’d almost marry you for your cooking.”

  The other man laughed. “My girlfriend’s got first dibs, and she cooks as well as I do, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

  Marcus joined in. “I vote to keep you on permanent chow duty.” He chomped a rasher of perfectly cooked bacon. “If you don’t marry your girlfriend or Townsend, I’ll take you.”

  Chang held up a hand. “Don’t flatter yourself, Jackson. You can’t cook for shit, and I don’t give lessons.”

  The other guys at the table laughed and jeered good-naturedly.

  “Busted,” Enrico Rodriguez jibed. The candidate reached for more eggs and scooped them onto his plate. He’d just returned from fundraising duty with short-timer Max Brown and a few others, collecting much-needed funds for a firehouse expansion project. The station always seemed to be collecting money or goods for one worthy cause or another. Knox eyed the overflowing box of toys and electronic items for the pediatric ward of the county hospital and made a mental note to deliver them.

  Knox got up to pour a second cup of coffee from the pot on the warmer when their paramedic, Lucy, and her EMT, Ricky, walked in. As usual, someone called out, “Hey, Lucy, you’ve got some ’splaining to do!”

  Someone else whined, “Ricky, it wasn’t my fault!”

  Lucy and Ricky rolled their eyes almost at the same time. “Since I can’t change my name, I’m going to dye my hair black,” the redheaded paramedic said. She pointed a warning finger at the crew. “Or put-in for a transfer. You guys are a pain in my ass.”

  A chorus of boos followed. Someone said, “No way.”

  Brown shouted, “We’d have to get used to someone else.”

  Ricky nodded. “So would I.” He fake punched his taller partner on the upper arm. “You’re not going anywhere if I can help it.” He headed for the coffee and then sat down for breakfast.

  Before Lucy made her way to the table, Knox poured her a cup of brew, added the cream and sugar he knew she liked, and crossed the room to hand it over.

  She lifted her brow. “You’ve never brought me coffee before.”

  Knox leaned in. “I have an ulterior motive.”

  Lucy laughed. “Of course you do.”

  “How’s the woman Marcus and I rescued from the apple tree doing? She okay?”

  Lucy met Knox’s eyes, glanced down at her cup, and then smiled up at him. “Coffee for information about the naked patient?”

  The word naked hit the room like a cherry bomb. It was as if the guys heard nothing else Lucy had said. Chatter at the table stopped.

  “Who was naked?” Rodriguez asked with a toothy grin. “You?”

  “You wish,” Lucy shot back. “Anyway, it wasn’t me, so don’t worry about it, Mr. Sexual Harassment.”

  Ricky shot Rodriguez a warning glance and stabbed the air with his finger. “One of these days, your mouth is going to get your ass handed to you.”

  The candidate looked down at his plate and shoveled more food onto his fork.

  Chang sauntered over to the table and helped himself to a couple of pancakes. “What’s going on?”

  Marcus finally took a breather from his second helping of everything and chimed in. “She wasn’t totally naked.”

  Knox looked over at his partner and gave him the death stare. The muscles in his back and neck tensed. He didn’t want Lexi to become the brunt of jokes.

  Marcus shrugged and returned to his meal, though before he took his next bite, he muttered, “But she was hot.”

  Brown jumped back into the conversation. “Why don’t I ever get the hot rescues?”

  The room broke into laughter. “’Cause you’re too old and ugly,” Marcus replied through a mouthful of eggs. “Anyway, Townsend saved her, not me. I was there for the assist.”

  All eyes turned to Knox. He held up a hand like a stop sign. “No comment.” Any more rudeness about Lexi Wentworth might result in busted heads.

  He turned back to Lucy. “What can you tell me?”

  She tilted her chin to signal outside. Lucy walked with him from the kitchen to the side entrance to a chorus of protests, and then through the door to the narrow lawn surrounding the station. She leaned against the brick wall and crossed her feet at the ankles. Knox faced her.

  To her credit, Lucy refrained from making snide remarks about Lexi’s outerwear. She stuck to the facts. “I stayed with her in the back of the truck while Ricky drove to the hospital. Her vitals were dangerously low, indicating shock. I gave her an IV to boost her fluid levels and raise her blood pressure. She was admitted overnight for observation, and it wouldn’t surprise me if they kept her longer. The doctor in charge will examine her, and then send her for X-rays, an EKG, and blood tests to check for underlying problems.”

  Knox frowned. “She had a tough morning.”

  Lucy touched his arm. “I’ve never seen you this concerned about a rescue before.”

  He tried to make light of his interest but couldn’t make it work. “You saw her. Can you blame me?”

  The paramedic returned a sympathetic nod. “Look, I’m not a doctor, but I don’t think her shock was caused by a heart attack or internal bleeding or anything that serious. Anyone hanging upside down for as long as she did would have difficult, though temporary, symptoms. Her leg is going to be her longer-term issue. It might be fractured, and she likely has soft tissue damage that includes painful and inconvenient muscle, ligament, and tendon tears.”

  “Did you ice her leg in the ambulance?”

  Lucy nodded. “I started RICE p
rotocol immediately.”

  Knox nodded. Rest, ice, compression, elevation. That’s what he’d have done.

  She patted Knox’s hand in a comforting gesture, like a big sister. “The hospital staff will take good care of her. She said she wants to get back to work as quickly as possible, and I’m sure they’ll do their best to make that happen.”

  “Did she tell you what she does for a living?”

  “Yeah. She’s a teacher. Third grade.”

  Knox felt gut-punched. Chelsea had been a third grader.

  “You okay?” Lucy asked, with a quick frown. “You don’t look so good all of a sudden.”

  Knox pressed a hand to his temple and rubbed. “I just need sleep.”

  That much was true—though after seeing Lexi’s X-rated sleepwear, learning she was an elementary school teacher had done screwball things to his head. He’d always admired teachers—there were a few great ones who had influenced his life—and he knew she had to be an exceptional woman to be one of them. Mental pictures of her as a teacher and sex goddess formed devastating combinations of hot and sweet, sexy and smart, in his brain.

  Somehow, he had to see the woman again without losing his job.

  First, he needed rest. His shoulders sagged and his eyelids grew almost too heavy to lift. “I think I’ll catch a few hours on my bunk.” That would be faster, easier, and less dangerous than driving to his place for rest. Tired drivers were as hazardous on the road as drunk drivers and caused more accidents.

  “Do that,” Lucy said. “I’ll catch you later.”

  Knox touched base with Marcus and his captain, and then headed to his bunk at the rear of the firehouse for some shut-eye.

  Chapter Five

  The nurse checked Lexi’s vital signs on the monitor beside her bed, changed her IV bags, and repositioned the wedge beneath her bandaged leg to keep it elevated. She poured her a glass of ginger ale and tucked in a straw. “You’ll feel like eating again once we get you rehydrated and your pain abates,” she said with a dutiful smile, and handed Lexi the cup.