Her Cocky Firefighters

by Tara Crescent

  The fumes are going to overwhelm me. I don’t have much time .

  I curl into a ball on the floor, as far away from the door as I can manage. I only wish I’d told Sean and Nick that I loved them .

  * * *

  Sean:

  The cottage is ablaze, and I don’t have a crew. It’s just me .

  Men have been known to lose their heads when they see their loved ones at risk .

  For one brief second, there’s a strand of hope in my heart. Maybe Hailey’s still interviewing Hardy. Then I see her car in the driveway, and my chest tightens. She’s home. She’s trapped .

  Come on, come on. I tug at the hose, dragging it into position. It’s too heavy. Damn it, come on, Keefer .

  Then I feel another body run up, another set of hands moving the hose. Nick. “It’s Reva” His face white with fear. “She’s been setting the fires .”

  “ I know .”

  The floors are freshly varnished hardwood. Hailey’s stove is natural gas. The cottage isn’t old and charming anymore. It’s a deathtrap .

  Nick slaps a mask on his face. “I’m going in .”

  I grab one as well. “So am I .”

  W e crawl through room after room. She’s not in the kitchen. Not in the living room, not in her bedroom. I’m about to give into despair when I remember the office .

  The door is shut. Nick and I throw our shoulders against it, and it falls open, and my heart leaps into my throat. She’s in a far corner, huddled on the floor, and she isn’t moving .

  I pull my mask off my face and slap it on Hailey’s. She shudders and coughs, and her chest rises and falls as she breathes in the sweet, life-giving oxygen. My shoulders slump with relief as she opens her eyes. Nick takes off his jacket and covers her with it. Good idea. The thick flame-retardant fabric will protect her as long as possible .

  He taps my shoulder. “We’re stuck,” he says, his voice calmer than I’d think possible. “There’s no way out .”

  The entire place is ablaze, the stream of water from my single hose no match for the raw hunger of the fire. It rages, wild and uncontrolled all around us. We’re trapped, and there’s nowhere to go .

  This is every firefighter’s nightmare .

  Then I hear it. A faint sound of sirens growing closer. Kowalski must have called it in. Thank heavens .

  We’re going to be okay .

  26

  Hailey:

  I wake up with a start, my entire body covered with sweat. My last memories are of being trapped, watching smoke pour into the room, unable to stop it, unable to escape. “Where am I ?”

  “You’re in the Goat Clinic.” Nick’s blue eyes fill with relief. He hands me a glass of water. “Drink .”

  I gulp down the cool liquid, feeling it soothe the rawness in my throat. “What happened? Where’s Sean ?”

  “He just stepped outside for a second. He’s talking to Kowalski.” His expression turns remorseful. “Can you ever forgive me, Hailey? This is all my fault .”

  I’m missing something . “Why ?”

  “The woman who set your cottage on fire is someone I had a one-night stand with.” His lips twist bitterly. “If you hadn’t been involved with me, none of this would have happened. I love you, Hailey, and because of me, you almost died .”

  I love you, Hailey. My heart hammers in my chest. “You’re blaming yourself for what some crazy chick did? That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” I hold out my empty glass, and Nick refills it. “That’s the same level of stupid as me thinking that it’s my fault that Matt cheated on me .”

  My room door opens, and Sean stands there. When he sees me awake, a shudder of relief runs through his body. “How are you feeling ?”

  The memories are slowly returning. Sean and Nick breaking open the door. Sean putting his mask over my face. Nick wrapping his jacket around me. “You saved me, both of you .”

  Nick’s face is still etched in lines of misery. Now that he’s satisfied I’m okay, Sean doesn’t look much happier. “So Hardy threatened you .”

  “How’d you find out ?”

  “You told us,” he says. “Back in the cottage .”

  “I don’t remember,” I confess. “I remember you breaking open the door and finding me, but after that, it’s all a blur. What else did I tell you ?”

  “You said you loved us,” Sean replies .

  A shining bridge appears over the chasm, and this time around, crossing it is easy. “I do love you. Both of you .”

  Nick looks up. “You do?” There’s a note of hope in his voice. “Even though this is all my fault ?”

  I smile widely at him. “Oh come on, Nick,” I tease. “Stop fishing for compliments; you’re perfect. Now, if we can hug it out …”

  I wrap my arms around my two brave, wonderful firefighters. “What happened to the cottage ?”

  “It’s gone.” Sean’s voice is somber .

  A wave of sadness sweeps over me. Nick and Sean had worked so hard to fix it up. Now it’s gone. And I’m officially homeless .

  “Is Elvira sad about it ?”

  “She was more concerned about you.” Nick rests his head on my shoulder. “She’s already talking about rebuilding it, but I think she’s planning on moving in there with Connor .”

  “Oh .”

  “You’re going to need a place to live,” Sean says cautiously .

  “ I know .”

  “You could move in with one of us,” Nick says. “I bought a plot of land a few years ago on the outskirts of town. I’ve always meant to build a house there.” His lips quirk into a smile. “What do you think, Hailey ?”

  My entire body tingles with happiness. “Can I pick the paint colors ?”

  Sean laughs. “Sure. I’ll eventually get used to yellow walls and purple tiles .”

  “They were pink,” I reply loftily, and then a wide smile breaks out across on my face. “And yes. I’d love to move in with you .”

  Epilogue

  Hailey:

  One year later …

  I nterrogated by the police, Reva Burris and her brother Ron confessed to setting all three fires. They both received lengthy prison sentences .

  To the everlasting relief of everyone in Goat, Elvira Grantham won the election handily. That ‘old goat’ meme was the turning point. The retirees in the new subdivision, all around Elvira’s age, were hugely offended by the ad, and they turned away from Eric Hardy, almost en masse .

  Hardy, humiliated by his defeat, left Goat and moved to Bend. He’s running a pizzeria there. So far, it’s still in business .

  We haven’t heard from McDuff’s .

  After keeping it a secret for almost a month, Nick and Sean finally told me what happened when I was unconscious. Sean had gone to Hardy’s house to confront him about his blackmail attempt. He’d ended up punching him in the jaw. “Sean?” I’d asked, unable to believe it. “Calm, cool, collected Sean Keefer got into a fistfight ?”

  He’d shrugged, looking faintly uncomfortable. “You’d been hurt. I wasn’t thinking rationally .”

  I know that I’m supposed to be offended that Sean beat someone up, but the idea of Sean losing his cool because I was hurt? Secret confession: I’m actually kind of flattered .

  Once the election was over, David Barlow released his report on the fire department. Sean finally got his budget increase. He’s hired two new firefighters. Both of them are nice guys, but of course, neither of them are as hot as Sean and Nick .

  Tammy Shepherd’s business recovered from the fire. She now stables more than thirty horses, and her classes are sold out as soon as she announces them .

  For a long time, I was pretty irritated with Josie Fletcher, the blonde woman who kissed Nick at the Randy Goat. Then she dropped by to apologize, and I found out why Reva was blackmailing her. I’m not going to go into it—that’s Josie’s story to tell—but we’re good friends now .

  Elvira did rebuild the cottage, and she and Connor live there now. Of cours
e, they didn’t paint the walls yellow. Instead, they opted for a very boring, very sophisticated shade of white .

  Lana, Blake, and Declan are doing great. The six of us get together every weekend for dinner with Elvira and Connor. We’re one big, loud, happy family .

  And Nick, Sean, and I? Things are amazing. We moved into our new place last month. It’s beautiful, spacious and colorful. Best of all, as a surprise housewarming present, Connor came over to paint his Goat mural on my office wall .

  I really couldn’t be happier .

  I t’s the fourteenth of July. Seven years ago, I’d been drinking at the Oarhouse, when two firefighters had walked in. Two hot, sexy, irresistible firefighters .

  We’re in Portland this year to commemorate that anniversary. I abandoned the guys all day to meet with my Girl Power team and to go lingerie shopping. I’m rushing toward the Oarhouse, slightly late, when I run into someone I haven’t seen in more than seven years .

  Skylar. My former best friend. “Hailey ?”

  She still looks as striking as ever. Her long black hair falls in lustrous waves around her face. Her makeup is perfect, and her green dress clings to her body .

  At one time, seeing her would have sent a spike of pain through my heart. Now, I feel nothing. “Hello, Skylar .”

  “How’ve you been ?”

  “Pretty good . You ?”

  She lifts up her left hand. No ring. “Matt and I are getting divorced. He cheated on me.” Her lips twist into a grimace .

  “I guess that’s karma for you,” I reply blandly .

  She bites her lip. “I’m sorry,” she says. “It’s seven years too late, but I am sorry about what I did.” She puts one perfectly manicured hand on my shoulder. “Do you think… Would you like to grab lunch one of these days ?”

  “No.” I’m not angry, and I’m not sad. I’m in a good place now. I’m with Nick and Sean, and I’m truly happy. In a way, I guess I should thank Sky for sleeping with Matt, for putting me on a path that led me to my two firefighters .

  But I’m not a saint. Some actions cannot be forgiven .

  “You were my best friend, and you slept with my fiancé,” I continue. “I don’t want to grab lunch, Sky. I’m pretty damn sure I never want to see you again. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have somewhere to be .”

  S ean and Nick are already seated at the bar, one empty barstool between them. With a smile on my face, I sashay into that spot. Audrey doesn’t work there anymore, and the bartender is a young woman I don’t recognize. “Can I get you a drink?” she asks me .

  “A shot of vodka, please .”

  Nick clears his throat. “Bad day?” he asks. The same words he’d used seven years ago .

  This time around, my answer is very different. I beam at my two firefighters, “It just got really good .”

  Sean’s lips curl into a slow grin. He slides a black card out of his wallet and places it on the bar counter. “Room 421 at the Monaco,” he says. “If you’re looking for a little distraction ?”

  I gulp down my shot and get to my feet. “Actually, I’m not. I was looking for love .”

  Nick throws a fifty on the counter. “And did you find it ?”

  “Yes.” My fingers close over the room key, and I smile at them, love overflowing in my heart. “Yes, I did .”

  A Preview of Dirty Therapy by Tara Crescent

  My O is missing. Two therapists are going to help me find it .

  Two hours after Dennis proposes, I find my fiancé with his d*ck buried in Tiffany Slater’s hoohah, and he has the nerve to suggest it’s my fault .

  Because I’m frigid .

  Sure, I’ve never had an orgasm with him, or with anyone for that matter, but relationships are about more than good nookie. (Not that it was ever good. Adequate is more like it. Okay, who am I kidding? Dennis couldn’t find his way down there with a flashlight and a map . )

  Now I’m determined to find my missing O with the help of two of the hottest men I’ve ever set eyes on. Therapists Benjamin Long and Landon West. If these two men can’t make me come, then no one can .

  I shouldn’t sleep with them. I shouldn’t succumb to their sexy smiles. I shouldn’t listen when their firm voices promise me all the pleasure I can handle .

  I can’t get enough. But when a bitter rival finds out about our forbidden relationship, everything will come crashing down .

  * * *

  CHAPTER 1

  Mia:

  I’m going to sum up the suckitude of my life with a three- point list .

  Though I haven’t had sex with my boyfriend for over a month, he proposed last night in an extremely crowded restaurant, and I said yes. Because everyone was looking at me and I didn’t want to be the girl that broke his heart in a public setting. Even though I wasn’t really sure I wanted to marry Dennis .

  Once I got back home, I started thinking about whether we were doing the right thing. So, I went over to his place to talk to him, and I found him plowing his dick in Tiffany Slater’s willing pussy. That wasn’t good .

  I started yelling. Instead of groveling, he yelled back. “You’re frigid,” he accused me. “I’ve never been able to make you come.” Right. As if it’s my fault that I have to draw him a map to my clitoris .

  (Okay, I lied. This is a four-point list.) Worst of all, when I threw his stupid engagement ring at his pasty-white butt, I missed. Big dramatic moment—ruined .

  “So there you have it,” I finish reciting last night’s humiliating events to my best friend, Cassie, while unpacking a new shipment of cocktail dresses. “Can my life get any worse ?”

  It’s eleven in the morning, or as I like to think of it, ‘Treat Time.’ Usually, this is my favorite part of the day. The store is quiet, and I can arrange the clothing neatly on hangers, organizing them by color and function. I can fiddle with the display cases of costume jewelry and make sure that everything is perfect .

  Cassie, who runs the coffee shop next door, is my supplier of treats. She’s watching me now, her eyes wide. “Dennis never made you come?” she asks, honing in unerringly to the most embarrassing part – the lack of orgasms. “Mia, the two of you dated for a year .”

  “ I know .”

  She takes a bite of her muffin. Chocolate chip, if I know my friend. “Why on Earth did you keep going out with him?” she demands. Crumbs fall on my ornately tufted vintage velvet loveseat. Normally, I’d shoo her out of the way and bust out my hand-vac, but today’s not a normal day. “The guy’s not a looker, and he has the personality of a wet towel .”

  I feel strangely compelled to defend my ex-boyfriend, but then I remember Tiffany, and I clamp my mouth shut. “I tried to tell him what turned me on,” I mutter, my cheeks flushed with humiliation. “At the start. He called me a pervert .”

  Cassie’s eyebrow rises, and she gives me her ‘what-the-fuck’ look. “He called you a pervert?” Her voice is dangerous. “And you still dated him after that ?”

  Worse, I almost married him .

  I avoid Cassie’s gaze. This situation would never happen to my friend. She’s bold and uninhibited, and she has every guy in our small town wrapped around her finger. Me? I’m the boring one in the corner, grateful for any scrap of attention that comes my way .

  “Anyway.” Cassie dismisses Dennis with a shrug of her shoulder. “Forget Dennis. You dodged a bullet there. Let’s get you back on the horse. Friday night happy hour at The Merry Cockatoo ?”

  Normally, even the mention of The Merry Cockatoo would get a giggle out of me. The newly opened bar is on the same block as my clothing boutique and Cassie’s coffee shop. My landlord, George Bollington, has been waging a low-grade war with the woman who owns the bar, trying to get Nina Templeton to change the name .

  “We’re a family-friendly town,” he grouses every time he sees me. “What kind of woman calls her bar that name?” Mr. Bollington is so uptight he can’t even say Cockatoo out loud. Because I’m the town’s resident good girl, he thinks he’s got
a sympathetic audience in me. I get to hear him grumble about Nina, about the sex therapists who’ve just opened a practice in town, about people who chew gum and listen to loud music, about people who litter… you name it, and my landlord probably disapproves of it .

  I agree with him on the litter, but the rest of it is Mr. Bollington being a grouchy old man. Except for the sex therapists. That’s professional jealousy. Mr. Bollington is a psychiatrist, and he’s grown accustomed to being the only option in town. He now has competition, and he doesn’t like it .

  Speaking of Mr. Bollington, the door bells chime, and my landlord walks in. When he sees Cassie sitting in my store, he frowns. Cassie is another person Mr. Bollington doesn’t approve of. “Mia,” he says, ignoring my friend, “I just saw your window display.” His forehead creases with disapproval. “It’s very unsuitable. This is a family- friendly town .”

  Last week, I’d received some incredible hand-made silk lingerie from a small French manufacturer. Each piece was so gorgeous that it should have been in a museum. I’d spent most of Saturday setting up a window display for the bras, panties, and slips. I should have known Mr. Bollington would get his knickers in a knot about it. (Ha ha. See what I did there ?)

  “Mr. Bollington, I run a clothing store.” I try and keep my voice firm. “Window displays are an important part of my marketing strategy .”

  He’s unmoved. “Need I remind you about the morality clause in your lease, young lady?” he demands. The threat is unmistakable. Take the offending display down, or my landlord will make trouble .

  Cassie snorts into her muffin once he leaves. “One day,” she gripes, “I wish you’d stand up to him and tell him his stupid morality clause isn’t legally enforceable. You’re going to take the lingerie down, aren’t you ?”