Fire at Sunset: The Firefighters of Darling Bay 4

by Lila Ashe

There she went again with the whole friend thing. “So I can’t dare you to drive the rig and let me be primary on every single call?”

  She shook her head which gleamed bright in the sun. “Doesn’t work that way.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because.” She crossed her arms in front of her and scowled, and she looked so dang cute he couldn’t help laughing at her.

  “Because?”

  “Because I make the rules.”

  “Ah,” Caz said. “Only child, right?”

  She narrowed her eyes and stared at him. Beside her, a small brown sparrow hopped onto the table and pecked at her leftover hamburger bun. “You don’t ask me a thing while we’re in the ambulance, you ignore almost everything I say, you never speak a word at the station except pass the salt, and now you’re playing twenty questions with me? What gives, Lloyd?”

  He wanted to laugh again. The feeling in his chest—that lightness—was something he hadn’t felt in a really long time. Just like sitting in this thin spring sunlight felt good, so did the urge to grin at her. It felt good right down to his bones. “Just because you never shut up and I never talk doesn’t mean I’m not listening, Maddern. Anybody ever call you Mad?”

  “Not anyone who wants to keep all their teeth.”

  “Good, Mad it is. Sisters? Brothers?”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “You tell me, smarty-pants. Do I or do I not have any siblings?”

  “I was going to say you didn’t, but now that I think about it, you argue too well to be an only. You have one. A sister. Younger.

  “Wrong! She’s older!”

  “Ah, you’re the baby. Is she in town?”

  “She used to be, but she moved to Los Angeles recently. I miss her.”

  Her eyes were sad, echoing her statement. What would that be like, to miss a sibling? Caz said, “And you bother your mother at that store you pointed out to me.”

  “What?”

  “Isn’t that what she tells you you’re doing?”

  “Well, yeah, but I’m helping. It’s not my fault I’m not good at organizing tchotchkes.”

  “And you hang out with your dad while he grills burgers and makes bad jokes.”

  Bonnie looked nominally impressed. “Okay, smart guy. What have I been doing with my backyard?”

  “Sunbathing naked?”

  “No!”

  Well, it had been worth a shot. “You’re building a tree house out of lumber you and your dad found at the dump.” When she’d mentioned it, he’d had to clench his teeth together to stop from asking her what she was using to build it. Reclaimed wood or new plywood? Were the nails galvanized? Were the countersunk screws blued or passivated?

  Bonnie sat back, and slapped her hands on her thighs. “Holy cats. You are listening to me. Why don’t you talk back to me, then?”

  He shrugged. “I’m not sure you’ve ever asked me anything directly.”

  “That’s not possible.” She covered her mouth briefly with her hand. “I’m not that rude. Is that true?”

  Caz shook his head. “Nah, you’ve asked me plenty of things.”

  “So…”

  “I’m just…private.”

  She lifted her shoulders and then dropped them again. “I can respect that.” Color lit the tops of her cheeks. Caz could practically hear her remembering the kiss they’d just shared. She went redder and he liked it, liked that he could shake her up.

  Because he felt shaken, too. He didn’t want to be alone in this.

  “Anyway,” she said, touching her top lip gently and glancing over at the group on motorcycles. “We should do what we came here to do.”

  Which was not kissing.

  “Yeah.” From his pocket, Caz took out a small notebook and a pencil stub.

  “How cute,” she said. Was that a smirk on her face as she got out her iPhone?

  “Don’t have to charge this, do I?” he said.

  “Oh, yeah? Where’s your pencil sharpener?”

  She had a point. He would ignore that. “Okay. How are we going to make more money than has ever been raised for the Darling Bay Alzheimer’s Support Initiative before?”

  “Two words for you, buddy. No, three.”

  “Yeah?”

  Bonnie’s lips curved so sweetly he wanted to kiss her again. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

  She said, “Truth or Dare.”

  Without thinking, he said, “Dare.” Maybe she’d dare him to kiss her again. He’d do it. He’d do anything she told him to at this moment.

  But instead she laughed. “No, Truth or Dare as a fundraiser. I was always scared of that game, but that’s what made it fun. I always picked truth, because…oh, I shouldn’t admit this.”

  He was intrigued. “What?”

  “Because I was a good liar as a kid. I could say that I’d been…kissed…” Bonnie’s cheeks went red again. “And no one could prove that I…hadn’t. Whereas if I’d been dared to kiss someone, I would have had to do it, and…” She pushed her hair off her forehead and blew out a short breath. “Why are we talking about this again? Oh, yeah. If we got firefighters on the stage to play with people pledging amounts to get them to do silly things, the crowd would love it. It would work, right?”

  “Silly things like kissing?”

  “No. This is work.” But her voice was breathy. “Seriously. Let’s plan this, okay?”

  Plan it and get out of here. Back to real life. Back to the ranch, and his drooling father, and the fact that he was a hundred miles from the cabin he wished he’d never had to leave. She was right. Caz would treat this like work. It was work. He’d forget that it was nothing but fun to be sitting with Bonnie Maddern outside, watching her drop bits of her hamburger bun on the ground for the group of sparrows that were now cheeping at her feet.

  He’d forget that for a few long moments he’d wanted to be here, with her, more than anywhere else on earth.

  CHAPTER TEN

  The dorm at Station One was long and narrow. While some of the newer stations in Darling Bay had individual rooms for the firefighters to sleep in, Station One was old-school with its bed cubicles cordoned off by heavy drapes. Really, the dorm was nothing more than a wide hallway, with narrow single beds on either side of the aisle, but when Bonnie was in the station, she imagined that her little bunk space was her own. Even though in two days B shift would have it and Bruno Sipes would be sleeping in the bed she occupied today, and two days after that, Mariana Bell would be covering the same mattress with her Snoopy sheets, right now, the bed was hers. Tonight, when they all went to sleep, hoping for a peaceful night, Bonnie would pretend she couldn’t hear Guy snoring and that Luke didn’t fart in his sleep as much as he did.

  There was no privacy in a fire station that ran an engine, a truck, and a medic, as well as housing the battalion chief.

  None at all.

  That’s why Bonnie sat on the edge of her bed after she’d fluffed her two work pillows to within an inch of their life. After making sure the curtain was safely drawn, she leaned against the thin partition wood and touched her bottom lip. For one long, glorious moment, she let herself remember kissing Caz.

  Caz Lloyd, of all people.

  First of all, she didn’t get involved with coworkers. That was her rule, and it always had been. She’d never dated a fellow coworker, not once. Second of all, he was hot as sin. Wait, that wasn’t supposed to be number two. Correction. Number two, he was a jerk in the station. Except that he apparently listened and remembered every single thing she’d ever babbled to him about. That wasn’t fair. That meant he knew so much (he’d remembered about the tree house!) and she knew nothing about him. Number three, she didn’t get involved with coworkers. That was numbers four, five, and six, too.

  She flopped backward and looked up at the spider web that draped the dim overhead light again, even though she’d taken it down last tour.

  Think, Maddern. If she was so sure how she felt on this topic, why did she keep thinking about him? About the
way he’d tasted? About the wave of heat that shot through her entire body as his lips took hers strongly, as if they had a right to be there.

  Bonnie heard a long sigh, and then realized it was hers.

  This had to stop. She needed to come to her senses. Fast.

  Dispatch would help.

  Lexie was in the middle of reading a recipe. “Hang on,” she said. “I think I forgot to add the egg whites.”

  “Is that what the smell in the kitchen is? Were you making muffins?” asked Bonnie. “Because those looked like hockey pucks and smelled like socks.”

  “No, I must have added the egg whites, right? How would I forget something like that?” She closed her eyes and tilted her head backward. Her headset, perennially attached to her ear, swung with her curly red hair. “Slimy. Egg whites. Separating them. I’d remember that, right?”

  “Probably.”

  She snapped her head upright again and fixed her gaze on Bonnie. “Nope, I for sure added them. I remember now.”

  “What were you trying to make?”

  “Coin’s daughter Serena’s class said that everyone has to take turns being class mom.”

  “That’s kind of sexist, isn’t it?”

  “It’s Coin’s turn to be class mom, so no, it isn’t, but they asked him to bring in healthy gluten-and sugar-free muffins. Oh, and they have to be vegan. I’m going to have to try it all over again…”

  “Then no egg whites.” Bonnie glanced over her shoulder at the recipe. “No honey, either.”

  Lexie looked at her in horror. “What do you mean, no honey?”

  “Not vegan. You don’t want to exploit the bees, do you?”

  Bonnie could almost see the expletive about to burst forth from Lexie’s lips, but 911 rang. All Bonnie got was a dirty look. Lexie dispatched the medical to Station Three, and gave instructions while the crews were diving. “No tourniquet. Ma’am. Ma’am? Did you hear me? Yes, I’m sure. No tourniquet for your son. He stubbed his toenail. Yes, I know there’s a lot of blood, but he’s not going to die of it. Yes, I promise. That’ll just make it worse.” Lexie tapped the side of her headset. “Hello?” She grinned at Bonnie. “I guess she’s calling the lawyer for when her child dies of blood loss. Good grief, the kid could have chopped off all his toes and he wouldn’t bleed out. But I’m preaching to the choir, right? What’s up, lady? What brings you down the hall with a look like that on your face?”

  Bonnie touched her cheeks. “What do you mean?”

  “You look like you saw a ghost and at the same time, you look all hot and bothered.” A voice chattered on the radio and Lexie focused on the screen, hitting her cordless button. “Engine Three, on scene.” She released. “Thank goodness. Someone tell that woman to chill the heck out. What’s she going to do when he’s a teenager? People have to space out their reaction to trauma, otherwise they get all weird too early on. Parents. Sheesh. Oh! The fundraiser. Is that what you’re worried about?”

  Bonnie nodded, grateful Lexie wasn’t focusing on her blush. “Yeah. Well, okay, no. We’ve kind of got that figured out.”

  “Already?”

  “Yeah. We…met up yesterday and talked.”

  “Oh!” Lexie looked intrigued. “The silent man of mystery, meeting you outside? Where real people live? What was that like?”

  “What do you mean?” Bonnie kept her gaze high, just over Lexie’s shoulder, where the laminated map of the district hung.

  “Whoa. You like him!”

  Bonnie felt a burst of adrenaline shoot through to her fingertips, and she felt a deeper blush start at her hairline. “No way.”

  “You do! You’ve been riding with him for what, two months? Max? And now you’re crushing!”

  “I can’t stand him.” Bonnie thought of the bursts of static that crackled between them. Earlier in the day, when setting up a backboard for a patient, their hands had touched and Bonnie thought she could almost see the electricity jump from him to her. Her stomach had been in knots all day, but neither of them had mentioned the kiss.

  “Mmmm-hmm.” Lexie leaned forward, lacing her fingers and putting her chin into them. “That’s how the best kind starts. I want to be your maid of honor. That is, unless Coin and I elope, which we might, depending on how Serena is acting the week we finally decide to do it. If I’m married, I’ll be your matron of honor. Whatever I am, I want to be it.”

  Bonnie laughed. “Nothing like that is on the horizon. He can barely stand me. It’s pretty mutual.” So was that kiss…

  “Don’t tell Coin, but I’ll admit he’s a looker. Ride ’em, cowboy, and all of that.”

  Bonnie sank into one of the spare dispatch chairs. “So you think he’s cute?”

  Lexie smiled. “I do. But I don’t think he’s as cute as you think he is, apparently.”

  “What?”

  She waved a hand. “Look at you. Please. It’s all over you. You are blissed out on a crush.”

  “Am not.” What would Lexie think if she knew that Bonnie had kissed him? To be fair, he’d kissed her first. But she’d definitely been a willing and very active participant. “Okay, maybe a little bit.” Bonnie reached forward to clutch desperately at Lexie’s arm. “Do you know what a pain in the butt this is going to be? I have to squash it.” Saying it out loud was the first time she realized she was so upset about it. “Sitting in the same rig with him for a whole year-long stint?”

  “He’s junior. He could get moved wherever the chief wants him to go. Maybe he’ll move stations on you.” Lexie looked dreamy for a moment. “I hope he doesn’t, though. He’s got that perfect cowboy a—”

  “Don’t make me think about that. Tell me what to do about it, instead. Tell me how to stop a crush.”

  Lexie pressed her lips together. Then, as if reminded she had lips, she applied ChapStick while she stared at Bonnie.

  Patiently, Bonnie waited.

  Instead of answering the question, Lexie said, “What’s your fundraiser plan?”

  “No, Lex, I need a man plan. I need a get-this-man-out-of-my-system plan. Who cares about the fundraiser? We’ve got that all worked out.”

  “This is relevant. Go with me here. What’s your fundraising plan? Something delicious? Humiliating? Funny?”

  Bonnie sighed and sat back, wincing as the hard plastic of the chair dug into her back. “Maybe all of those. Remember when we were kids, we played Truth or Dare?”

  “Of course. I hated that game.”

  “It was fun,” protested Bonnie. Okay, it was fun if you lied and avoided being dared to do anything. “What if we coordinated a pay-for-play Truth or Dare?”

  The door to dispatch opened, and Bonnie felt her knees heat up. Caz. Of course.

  “Hey, you,” said Lexie. “Come in, we were just talking about you.”

  Oh, jeez…

  Caz’s voice was low and he didn’t meet Bonnie’s eyes. “I’m looking for the chief. Do you know where he is?”

  Lexie said, “Am I in trouble for something?”

  Caz looked surprised. “Um, no…”

  “Good.” Lexie hit a few keys. “His MDC says he’s at the coffee shop. Lousy chief that he is. Didn’t even offer to get me a cup.”

  “Okay…”

  “Now, get in here. What do you think of Truth or Dare? Can you explain to me why Bonnie here thinks it’s a good idea? The only thing I can think that would be fun about it is if we got firefighters and medics up there and dared them to kiss pigs. Oooh, or each other.” Lexie’s eyes widened as she looked between the two of them. Bonnie predicted she’d have to kill her soon, probably before the afternoon was over.

  Caz said, “We talked about the game, but—”

  Bonnie interrupted, “Hey, didn’t we have to wash the blankets on the rig? I mean, no one used that last one, but it did hit the floor, and we can’t have—”

  “I already did it. They’re sanitizing now.”

  “You see?” said Lexie triumphantly. “He’s on it. Now. Caz. Old buddy. Old pal. What would
you do if someone dared you—for money—to kiss Bonnie over there right on the smacker?”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  It was the last question he’d thought he’d be asked in dispatch. Bonnie had told Lexie?

  “Really?” He shoved his hands in his uniform pockets and threw a glare in Bonnie’s direction. “I can’t believe you—”

  “I’m just teasing,” said Lexie. “Sheesh. Okay, so let me talk this out, so I’m sure I understand what the plan is. All right. So we get two firefighters up there on the stage after the dinner portion of the evening.”

  “Neither of whom will be me.” Caz had to look away from Bonnie and the way she bit her lower lip when she was nervous. He couldn’t be totally sure he wouldn’t reach over and touch that same lip with his forefinger. Right in front of Lexie. Good grief, Bonnie Maddern acted on him like a nerve agent. She should come with a warning placard. A red light should have been flashing outside Dispatch’s door, to show people it wasn’t safe to enter.

  “Shhh. You don’t have to go first, if that’s what you mean. But yeah, two firefighters up on stage. Okay, they choose whether they want a Truth or a Dare. Then we hold a mini-auction. Whoever collects the most money each round is off the hook, and the other person has to either tell the truth or do the dare in front of everyone.”

  “Exactly,” said Bonnie. “So that means that if the dare is take your shoes off and get a pedicure, Guy Mazanti will work extra hard to raise money in the crowd so his opponent will have to do it instead of him.” Everyone knew Guy Mazanti couldn’t stand having his feet touched, or even, really, looked at.

  “Oh, man, I love the pedicure idea. And I’d like Coin to lose that one, please. I want to see his toes a pretty, pretty pastel pink. With flowers. And maybe rhinestones and glitter!” Lexie looked delighted.

  Caz could admit that it would probably raise money. It was a cute idea. If he were a citizen going to a benefit put on by firefighters, he’d probably be into seeing them laughingly humiliated, too.

  It’s just he didn’t want to be one of them up there on the stage. “Sounds good. Sounds funny. And since we’re organizing it, we won’t have to be on stage.”