When Sparks Fly (First-Responders Book 1)

by Essen, JA

  Table of Contents

  Untitled

  Copyright

  Acknowledgements

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Epilogue

  EXCERPT FROM PERILOUS LOVE, Book 1 of the Changes on the Horizon Duet:

  CHAPTER 9

  EXCERPT FROM SAVING ROBOR, Book 2 of the Changes on the Horizon Duet:

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  About the Author

  Copyright

  When Sparks Fly

  Copyright © 2016 J.A. Essen

  Editing by Mrs. J.A. Essen and My BETA Krew =)

  Cover design by: Essen-tial Designs

  EBooks are not transferrable. All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded, or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Acknowledgements

  Thanks go out to my amazing group of gals that help edit each and every one of my books. Without you, the fans would be screaming for my head on a spike.

  Also to Mary and the girls at Between the Sheets, PR. It has been a pleasure working with you on this release.

  Prologue

  A cat. Yes! That’s what I need to get. Then I can help it get stuck in the tree just outside my second story bedroom. Surely that’s a good enough reason to call the fire department out, right?

  Ugh! What am I thinking? Seriously, Macy, you’ve got to get over this phase.

  First, it was the surf instructor. Yeah, the surf was the only thing he was getting up. Poor guy.

  Next, it was Ryan from that twenty-four-hour fitness joint. Nothing like sharing a few hot, sweaty workouts and then finding out he has a beautiful, leggy blonde wife when she walks up and throws her arms around him. And puts his wedding ring back on his finger, shooting daggers at me with her eyes the entire time.

  What a douche!

  Now, it’s Fireman-Joe, aptly nicknamed as he could easily pass for Joe Manganiello’s younger brother, but I digress. He’s the absolute epitome of Greek god Adonis. He’s a solid foot taller than my five-foot-four stature with arms that look like they were chiseled by a master sculptor and that back… Oh. My. God. I caught him doing pull-ups on the rack in front of the station one day and nearly face-planted onto the pavement, stumbling over my own feet.

  I changed my jogging route a month ago when I caught sight of him washing down one of the rigs. He was like one of those calendar models you see come-to-life. Ever since, I’ve made sure that my return route includes the sidewalk directly in front of the bay area. More than once, I’ve garnered a smile from him. The first time it happened he nearly melted my panties, but he’s never even tried to wave me.

  So yeah, back to the cat-stuck-in-a-tree idea. Maybe it’s not completely absurd. I mean, at least it would be a way to get a conversation started. I’ve considered catching something on fire, but I’m sure he wouldn’t visit me in prison. The cat idea is the best one I can come up with. I’m so tired of my hand going numb, jilling-off to just the thought of the way his body would feel on top of mine.

  That hypothetical kitty isn’t the only one that needs rescuing!

  Chapter 1

  Another Wednesday; another time to torture myself with scorching hot images of Fireman-Joe handling his big hose.

  Yeah, it’s lame, but my dreams have gotten ridiculously erotic, and my mind just won’t turn off.

  Work, if you can call it that, was less than stellar. I’m working through the last semester of student-teaching for my Bachelor’s Degree in Education. The kids are great, don’t get me wrong, but Mrs. Hanover, the teacher I’m working under, is a total bitch. It’s her way or the highway.

  How the hell am I supposed to develop my own teaching technique if I constantly have to adhere to someone else’s? It’s just insane.

  But, it’s Wednesday, so on to the other insanity in my life; self-torture.

  Stripping out of my blouse, slacks, and flats, I grab a lime-green sports bra from the top drawer and pull it on over my head. This, of course, is sports bra number two, which is required to carry the girls. Stuffing, poking, and prodding, I finally coerce them into place. I may be short, but I’m not lacking. If anything, these damn thirty-four Ds are a curse more than a blessing. Big tits and a big ass. Everyone else says I’m blessed. I say, try and find clothes that actually fit!

  I slide into a pair of black running spandex and some ankle socks. Snatching my Adidas off the rack, I plop down on the edge of the living room coffee table and lace them up. iPod and ear buds are waiting at the entry table, and I get them strapped on and in place. After locking the front door behind me, I slide the key into my sports bra. I’m greeted by a healthy breeze and warm, eighty-degree temperatures, as I step off the front porch.

  Yep. Let’s get this started!

  The smell and taste of the salty breeze blowing in off the shore is pure heaven. The sloshing of the waves as they break near the shoreline is more than inviting, but I have other plans for getting wet today.

  Turning at the park, I head back in toward the city proper. After another mile and a half, I can see the glint of the sun off the chrome bumper of the main hook-n-ladder truck parked outside of the station. Yes, I totally looked up online the proper terminology for that big machine so when we finally do meet, I don’t come across as a total ditz. After all, knowledge is power. Now, I just hope I timed it right, and he is out there washing it. Or even better, working out. Mmm.

  I slow my pace as I approach; I don’t want to be completely obvious as to my gawking intentions.

  I’m within about twenty yards of the driveway now, and I’m hoping it’s going to be worth the jog today. For once, luck is on my side because there he is. My gorgeous, sweaty Fireman-Joe. He’s doing that undulating thing they do with the big, thick ship ropes, only with the truck’s fire hoses instead. Every muscular inch of his arms, torso, and back is rippling with each up and down swing. The sweat glistening on his skin amplifies the ink across his back.

  Ooof!

  The air suddenly rushes out of my lungs as the entire left side of my body impacts the concrete surface. My head smacks the hard surface a split second later. Through the pulsing haze, I can see Fireman-Joe already sprinting in my direction. Great, this is going to be one hell of a first…

  *****

  Holy fuck. My head feels like it’s been split wide open. There’s a low, constant hum in my ears, and the light is entirely too bright to open my eyes completely.

  Nothing looks familiar.

  “Hello?” My voice is weak and shaky from uncertainty. “Is anyone there?”

  “Hey Seth, sh
e’s waking up man,” comes a male voice from somewhere beyond my immediate vision.

  There are some shuffling sounds, and the door to the little room creaks open.

  “Well, hey there. You took quite a fall out front.” His voice has a deep timbre, and even in my current predicament, it sends goosebumps running up my legs and straight to my core. “You’ve got a pretty good scrape up the side of your left leg. Your left arm is pretty rough too. I managed to get your injuries cleaned up and bandaged while you were unconscious.”

  I start to sit up on the twin sized bed. He offers me his hand, helping me to right myself. Looking at the large gauze pad on my leg, and the matching, but smaller one on my arm, I can’t help but start sniffling.

  “Hey now.” He slides a chair to the bed right in front of me with the back facing me. Settling down onto it he takes my right hand in his very large, rough hand. “It’s nothing serious. I’m also a paramedic,” he says with a wink. “I promise the scrapes are the worst of it.”

  Using my left hand, I wipe away a tear. “How long was I out?” My voice is still shaky, but I think it’s just his close proximity and the physical touch of his hand this time.

  “About forty-five minutes. It looks worse than it really is. How are you feeling? Any vision issues?”

  I look around the room and don’t seem to have any problems reading posters on the far wall. “My head is still pulsing a bit, but I can read that Hooters poster just fine.” I point at it and smirk.

  His cheeks heat a little. “Yeah, sorry. We don’t get many beautiful, half-dressed female visitors.” There’s a little twinkle in his warm, chocolate-brown eyes.

  I bite my bottom lip and look down, yes, failing miserably at hiding my amusement.

  “Let’s get you up and walking around, shall we,” he says to break the tension.

  Seth stands up first, without letting go of my hand, and helps me to my feet.

  “Thank you, Seth,” I say as I let go of his hand and start making my way to the door. He scoots past me in two strides and pushes it open for me, standing clear for me to walk through. “Such a gentleman.” I slide my fingers down his arm as I pass by. His eyes light up as he gives me one of the most beautiful smiles I’ve seen in my life.

  The sun has already reached the horizon as we walk through the empty bay. “Well, I guess I better be on my way. I’ve still got a mile to go back to the house.”

  Seth grabs my wrist gently. “Oh no you don’t. There’s no way I’m letting you out of my sight until I know you’re home safe.” He turns to one of the other guys, “Hey, she only lives a mile away, so I’m gonna run her home real quick. I’ll be right back.”

  “Sure thing, man. Take your time with that little cutie,” he responds. “I know I sure would,” he mumbles as the other lets out a cat-call whistle.

  Seth cuts his eyes back at his comrades, daring them to smart-off again.

  “Just ignore them. They’re fresh out of the academy,” he says as an apology.

  He walks me to the side of the building, and my mouth gapes. He’s got a jacked-up, black-as-night Hummer. “Nice wheels.”

  “Thanks. It’s great for the beach. I haven’t ever gotten close to getting stuck. I’ve pulled quite a few stranded trucks out as well.”

  I climb up in and allow him to shut the door for me. As he walks across the front, the headlights showcase his incredible body, even with a shirt on.

  “So, where am I taking you?” It feels like a prickly wheel runs up my spine when he speaks.

  “5318 Pueblo Vista.”

  The drive is entirely too short. As he gets out, I notice his iPhone sitting in the console. I quickly grab it and add my information, sending a text to myself as well so that I have his. He catches me and raises an eyebrow. “Just in case you might want to check up on me later.”

  He laughs, and I know he knows.

  I hop down on still wobbly legs, and he walks me up to the door. After sliding my key into the lock, I turn around to face him. He’s so close, I can feel the heat radiating off of his body and with his proximity, I have to look up at him. My eyes linger on the perfect three day stubble shading his jawline. All I want to do is run my tongue along the edge and then bite his earlobe.

  “Well, goodnight then…”

  It suddenly dawns on me that I haven’t even given him my name. “Macy. My name is Macy, and thank you for being so kind.”

  “The pleasure is all mine, Macy. You take care of yourself, and keep your injuries covered for the next several days.”

  He turns and walks down the driveway as I push the door closed behind him. Leaning up against it, I can feel my heart rate running wild. “Seth,” I whisper. So much sexier than Fireman-Joe.

  Chapter 2

  Rookies. I shake my head in frustration. The academy training standards definitely aren’t what they used to be. “Reset and do it again!” I bark out.

  This is the first week out of the academy for Blake and Tyler. Today we’re working on quick-response hose stretching and hydrant attachment. Their times are horrendous, and they aren’t working together as a cohesive unit. “Tyler, remember to make sure that the hose is attached to the hydrant first. Blake, as soon as he torques it down, you each grab a side of the roller and sprint. It has to be a flat lay down. If it turns on itself, you will lose pressure and cause spasms in the line making it difficult to control.”

  “Yes, sir!” they respond in unison.

  I don’t mind the training aspect of my job. I really don’t. But when the academy isn’t making sure the basics are one hundred percent understood before moving on, well, it’s like trying to build an upside down pyramid; one block on the bottom and adding more on top. Without a stable foundation, these guys aren’t going to succeed, and someone is going to get hurt. Or even worse; killed in an accident.

  After another hour, I can tell the guys are getting fatigued. Bunker suits are miserable in these summer temperatures, but they have to learn to both deal with it and know how to work with them on. The thick gloves give everything a completely different feel than bare hands, but they also allow you to work where you otherwise couldn’t.

  “Looks like you two finally have it down,” I praise. “Let’s call it. Drag all the hoses out down the driveway to dry. Then you can get those suits turned out, and we’ll chow.” I can see the exhausted, and yet excited release of breath from them both. Their pace picks back up as they unroll each length of hose, stretching from just inside the bay, all the way to the end of the drive.

  Knowing they worked their butts off, I head inside to the kitchen and start making sandwiches. Three types of meat, three kinds of cheese, loads of lettuce, tomato, and mayo, all times six. Yeah, these guys can eat, and I’m in dire need of a decent workout, so I will too.

  “Thanks, ‘old man,'” Blake smarts off as he jogs in ahead of Tyler, and grabs a plate of food.

  “’Old man?” I huff. “Looks to me like you have plenty of energy left. Maybe you need some wind sprints.” I raise an eyebrow at him for the comment.

  “No, sir. I’m good. Thank you, sir,” he corrects, retracting his previous statement.

  “Humph, that’s better.” Hell, I’m only twenty-eight.

  The cold meat sandwiches are quite perfect in this warm, humid weather approaching summer. I opt to only eat one of mine, packing the other up and tossing it on the shelf in the fridge. Heading to the bunk room, I change from my duty uniform into a pair of basketball shorts and tennis shoes. Returning to the common room, I get Blake and Tyler’s attention. “Guys, I’m heading outside to get a workout in.” They both just raise a hand over their heads to signify that they’ve heard me. They’re too busy on the damn Xbox I never should’ve let them bring in to worry about me.

  I head out through the door and into the bay. We’ve got practice connectors mounted to the wall just outside the bay doors, and I know just what I want to do. Grabbing two hoses, I connect them each to the wall, stretch them out, and grab the opposite end
of each. They are still wet, adding the perfect weight. I begin single arm slams with the lengths, and it doesn’t take long before the burn starts in my shoulders and down through my forearms. Yep, this is definitely what I needed.

  Just as I hit my breaking point and release the hoses, I hear something from behind me. Looking back, I watch in horror as a very attractive woman trips over the remaining hoses and crashes against the pavement. I cringe when I hear her head smack down and I all-out sprint to her, praying her head isn’t busted open.

  “Miss? Miss are you okay?” She’s out, and her breathing is shallow. Carefully lifting her, I bring her inside to the small medic room and place her on the cot. She’s got some really bad road rash on her left leg and elbow. Grabbing supplies, I clean the wounds up with saline spray first, removing the little bit of debris, then with hydrogen peroxide. After drying everything off, I spread Bacitracin ointment and bandage her up.

  Her breathing has regulated, and I question whether or not I should take her to the ER for a CT scan. I opt for the former and decide to keep her under observation for now. In addition to my paramedic training, I trained in the Navy to deal with concussions in the field. “Blake,” I call out. Within seconds he comes running from indoors.

  “Yes, sir?” He cocks his head when he looks into the room, confusion marking his brow.

  “Keep an eye on her, will you? I’ve got to get cleaned up. Let me know when she wakes up.”

  “Will do.”

  I head inside. “Tyler, get the hoses pulled in. We had a jogger that was injured.”

  He drops his controller instantly. “On it, sir.”

  I strip out of my clothes and start up a cool shower. I’m a little shaken, knowing that my decision to leave the hoses out led to this girl’s demise.

  Damn. She is stacked and cute as hell from what I could tell. The eyes really make a person, so I will have to wait and see.

  As I’m redressing, I hear Blake call out, “Hey Seth, she’s waking up man.” I hurry back out, and even through her confused look, I can see the sparkle in her hazel eyes I was hoping for. Once I’ve gone over with her what happened, gotten her calm, and had the opportunity to touch her hand, she decides it’s time to leave.