Pin-Up Fireman

by Vonnie Davis

  Eli was the oldest and the brightest. He was also her hero. Without a word of complaint, he put up with her following him around, even to the community basketball courts. He taught her all he knew. So did his buddies. She held the old photo of the two of them under the basket over their garage door. Eli held the basketball in one hand and his other arm around her shoulders. His smile illuminated the picture while she stared up at him—her best bud.

  Too bad she couldn’t have played basketball forever. The wooden court was where she felt at home throughout her high school and college years—running, dribbling, shoving, shooting. That was her first love. She glanced around her storage room turned legal office. This was her current cramped reality.

  She groaned as she wrote her brief; wondered how her acquittal rate would be if she delivered her opening and closing arguments while dribbling a basketball. Her weird sense of humor fanaticized a hoop over the judge’s head and Graci-Ella shooting a three-pointer whenever the judge disagreed with something she said. Her laughter bubbled forth as she imagined beaning the opposing counsel on his ass whenever he made her client look bad.

  By far, the basketball court outshone the legal court. At least for her, which was a sad admission when she’d worked so hard to pass the bar and get in with a firm. Maybe she needed to open her own office. Or perhaps she needed to make photography more of a vocation than a hobby. Especially if she could meet men like Tiny. Sweet chocolate cheesecake, but he was delicious looking. She’d like to bite his bicep and then kiss him all over just to make up for it.

  Even so, the keep-your-distance vibe he emanated like a lighthouse beacon practically shouted he wasn’t interested in her, or any female. Just her luck. She’d like to go a little one on one with him and not just on the basketball court, either. Something about him stirred her hormones, which was quite peculiar for her—the focused, determined lawyer with goals a mile long.

  CHAPTER TWO

  After lunch, Graci-Ella hurried to the law library for a book on quasi-torts and opened the glass door to find the lawyer at the top of the firm’s food chain. After a polite exchange of greetings, she took a deep breath and asked if she could spend some money to make her ex-storage room, now office more workable. To her relief, he gave her permission and also told her to have the building manager show her the office furniture the firm no longer used. Maybe she could find some things there, especially since some of the junior partners had just ordered new office cabinets and desks.

  Mental fist pump. Score!

  So, when she normally took her afternoon break, she knocked on the building manager’s door. With her room’s layout sketched on paper, she’d asked him if he had anything that matched and was usable. “Oh, and comfortable would be nice too.”

  He scratched his head for a minute. “Didn’t this used to be the old supply room before they made a bigger one?”

  “You got it, Jo-Jo. In there sits a huge metal desk—brown. Two metal file cabinets—gray. One metal folding client chair—red. A black office chair that leans and has upended with me in it—five times.”

  “How long you been here? A couple years?” He shook his tanned bald head, trimmed with a fringe of white hair. “Ain’t that a damn shame. Bet you’re still getting the shit cases no one else wants. And I lay you dollars to donuts, you’re putting in more hours than anyone else, trying to prove yourself.” He ambled away from her and motioned over his shoulder. “Follow me. Ol’ Jo-Jo gonna treat you right.” He glanced at the paper again. “These measurements correct?”

  “Yes, sir.” She glanced around and saw two dark-green leather, club chairs that matched. She rubbed her hands over the soft leather. “Oh, wish I had room for these. I love the color.”

  Jo-Jo shoved a matching wheeled office chair her way. “Try that on for size. I can adjust the height for you, lumbar support too.” He pulled out a unit with two horizontal filing drawers and book shelves on top of those. A corner unit was next, along with a desk. He measured the corner unit and desk together and looked at his paper. He found two other matching units. One had filing drawers, but was deeper. A skinnier one had shelves with lockable sliding doors. “Which one do you want?” He pointed to the thinner one. This will give you eight more inches of room.”

  “I’ll take it. One question. The aluminum strips that hold the ceiling tiles, are they strong enough to hang a plant?”

  “If the pot’s plastic and you don’t drench the plant with water, yes. No more than two, though.”

  She opened her arms. “So, I can have all this? And it’ll still leave me room to move around in my tiny office?” After Jo-Jo showed her how to place everything on her drawing, she hugged him and squealed with joy. She didn’t think she’d stopped smiling the rest of the afternoon.

  Once her day at the office was over, she grabbed a salad at her favorite take-out spot and went home to eat and unwind. High heels in hand, she went into her bedroom to change into something cool and comfortable. She called Tiny to make sure the firefighters were there before she drove to the station.

  “Boyd here.”

  “So, I finally learn your real name.” She smiled as she pulled a tank top from her drawer.

  “All you needed to do was ask me. I have no secrets.” His deep voice raised goosebumps on her skin.

  “Are we in a grumpy mood this evening?”

  “No.” He sighed. “Maybe. Was my night to cook and I burned the lasagna. We had a marine rescue earlier this afternoon, so I thought if turned the oven up to five hundred, supper would get done quicker.”

  She laughed. “Oh no. Who puts the oven up that high?”

  “A man whose hungry, that’s who. All it did was set off the smoke alarms and cause me to get my ass chewed out. I’m trying to figure how to get the scorched cheese and meat out of the pans. Hey, you don’t do dishes do you?” A tinge of his humor was in his voice. “Have you ever eaten lasagna with a fork in one hand and a chainsaw in another?”

  Once she stopped laughing, she made a suggestion. “Run a knife along the edge to get out what you can and then soak them in hot, soapy water for a while. I’m just calling to make sure the team will be there if I come by.”

  “As of now, we’re just cleaning equipment. Routine stuff. Come on over.”

  When she pulled into the parking lot of Fire and Marine Rescue Station Thirty-two, Wolf and a curvy redhead were sitting at a picnic table under a palm tree. A German shepherd sat on Wolf’s lap as if he hadn’t seen his master for weeks. Wolf waved her over as she pulled out a canvas bag of calendars and a portfolio of pictures.

  “Graci-Ella, come meet my wife, Becca. Don’t you think she glows with her pregnancy?” The man’s smile nearly split his face in two. He reached for his wife’s hand and kissed her knuckles.

  Becca pursed her lips and blushed. “I’m surprised you don’t make me wear a sandwich sign that reads, ‘This woman is pregnant!’ She stood and shook Graci-Ella’s hand. “Never mind him. He’s just happy we finally got it right. So, you’re the photographer everyone’s teasing Tiny about?”

  Something in the woman’s kind demeanor made Graci-Ella smile. “Yes, I’m the photographer, but why are folks ragging Tiny about me?”

  Becca leaned in. “Because he hasn’t dated since he was served with custody papers for his little boy. He’s trying so hard to be Mr. Perfect. You evidently rattled his celibacy cage when you showed up this morning.”

  Was that why he was so adamant about not being in the calendar? Did he think avoiding women would look favorable to the court? Was he divorced or still married? That would be the deciding factor, that and how often he left his son with a sitter overnight.

  The dog looked at Wolf as if he were insulted and whined. He licked Wolf’s chin, no doubt to remind him he was there.

  Wolf rubbed the canine’s head. “Sorry, buddy. Graci-Ella, this is Einstein. If you call him over, he’ll offer you his paw to shake. He’s the best dog in the world.”

  Einstein barked and jumped down.
Graci-Ella called him over and he pranced around the end of the picnic table, his tongue lolling crooked from his mouth. He sat in front of her and held out his paw. She shook it gently. “My, aren’t you handsome? Do you have a leash along? I’ll walk you around the building.”

  Einstein romped to Becca and gently took a leash from her hand before giving it to Graci-Ella. “Does he enjoy running?” She petted Einstein as she clipped the leash onto his collar.

  “He loves a good run. Wolf won’t let me take him on runs anymore, just slow jogs.”

  Graci-Ella stood and rubbed the dog’s neck. “Einstein, sounds like we could both use some fast exercise. Two times around the building.”

  Wolf laughed. “If you sense twenty pair of male eyes on you, it’s not a phantom feeling.”

  Right, as if I haven’t had men watch me run before. She and Einstein took off.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Feet pounded past the opened kitchen windows while Boyd and Quinn were rinsing dishes and loading dishwashers. Boyd’s neck snapped a fast second glance, and he nearly got whiplash. He kept holding a plate under the water spray as he leaned toward the screen to watch Graci-Ella—her come-to-Jesus legs in navy shorts, full breasts in an apricot tank top and a long ponytail that swished back and forth with each stride. His heart pounded with every pace she made.

  Quinn jerked the plate from Boyd’s hand. “Man, I don’t know who’s breathing faster right now. Her running or you watching.”

  “Bite me.” Boyd leaned farther toward the window so he could keep his eyes on her after she passed by with Einstein. Quinn shifted behind him and shouldered Boyd’s ass until his knees were on the counter. “What the fuckin’ hell, Quinn?” A giggling shove and Boyd’s knees slipped into the double sink—one side full of hot soapy water soaking lasagna pans and the other with the faucet running cold water.

  Quinn, the bastard, was laughing and grabbing for the sprayer.

  “Oh no! Oh, hell no!” Boyd struggled for the sprayer, too, in an effort to avoid the shower he was about to get. In the scuffle, he slipped forward and banged his chin on the window sill, which gave Quinn enough time to gain control of the sprayer and douse him good with cold water.

  Boyd elbowed his co-worker, who lost his balance, slipped on the wet floor and ripped the sprayer’s hose from the faucet assembly. Water flew. Guys came running to see what all the commotion was about. Boyd didn’t doubt for a minute he made a fine sight with his ass in the air and his knees in the sink. He pushed off the window sill and flipped backwards, his sneakers skidding in two different directions until his back hit the floor.

  Quinn, bless his demented ass, laughed so loud it evidently drew the captain out of his office.

  “What in the God damn hell is going on? Someone turn off the water and fix the hose. One of you little boys better mop up the floor.” Captain Steele was known for having spic and span station and that included the kitchen.

  Quinn was known for his big mouth. “Hell, captain, I was only helping Tiny watch the photographer run by the building with Einstein.”

  Feet stampeded to the windows on the other side of the building. Whistles and crude remarks exploded from the gang at the other windows. Damn the rest of the guys for watching her run. They had no right to drool over her.

  Boyd was so pissed, he spun to head for the mop and bucket, shooting Quinn a glare as he stormed to where the cleaning supplies were stored. Never one to back down, Quinn grabbed Boyd’s bicep and leaned in. “If you want her, you better make it known.”

  “Oh, like you did with Cassie? You damn near drove her away. Besides, I’ve got that custody hearing…”

  Quinn’s voice softened. “Don’t pound the hell out of me for this, but I think you’ve got a worthless lawyer. He’s got you scared to do anything but work and take care of Matt. What do you do the weekends the kid’s with his mother? Do you party, date, bay at the moon? No.”

  “I get together with you guys when you have picnics or basketball games.”

  “You need to live, brother. An occasional date would not make you a bad parent. The hell with what that lawyer told you. Cassie’s afraid you’ve turned off your sex drive. She wants to line you up with some of her friends. You know how she gets once she snags onto an idea.”

  Boyd, who was still dealing with half a woody, chuffed a laugh. “Tell her my sex drive is working fine. I’m just keeping it in neutral until after the hearing.” He shook his index finger at Quinn. “Tell that sweet wife of yours I would not appreciate her matchmaking help.” He made a snap decision to get out of his wet clothes and headed for the sleeping quarters to change before he mopped the kitchen floor.

  He’d just swabbed the area in front of the sink when the horny herd charged toward the open back door where Graci-Ella was evidently passing. He spun to snatch another look at her after she rounded the building, but thought better of it. Surely she deserved more than to be ogled like some sex object.

  When he stepped outside to empty his bucket, Einstein barked a greeting as he cleared the end of the fire station. Boyd stepped inside to grab a bowl to fill with water for the dog and snatched a bottle of water out of the refrigerator for Graci-Ella. He carried both outside for the runners. He set Einstein’s bowl on the grass next to the sidewalk. Both the dog and the beauty stopped running.

  “Oh, a life-saver.” Graci-Ella accepted the bottle and unscrewed the top. “Thanks for being so considerate.” She gulped a few swigs, watching Einstein put his muzzle into the bowl, take several laps and then lick Boyd’s calf in gratitude. The corners of her mouth quirked. “Just don’t expect me to do that.”

  “What? Lick my calf?” Hell, his voice cracked like an adolescent. He had to get a grip where she was concerned.

  She nodded, guzzling more water.

  His cock nodded, too. Thank God he’d changed into a pair of baggy cargo shorts. His instant erection wasn’t so obvious, but since he couldn’t stop thinking of her tongue on any part of his body, the damn thing lengthened and thickened some more. He stooped and petted Einstein in an effort to hide it until his mind got off her tongue. Of course, the damn dog licked Boyd’s crotch, then lifted his hind leg and licked his doggie privates.

  “Do you have some free time to talk to me? We could sit on the bench in front of the palms and those pretty orchids.” She motioned with her bottle to the bench she meant.

  “Sure. Let me go in and grab a soda. Do you want one or maybe some more water?”

  She flashed him a heart-melting smile. “No, I’m great. I need to get Einstein back to his owners and then I’ll be over.”

  Boyd was sipping his Coke when Graci-Ella carried a canvas bag over to the bench. “How long have Wolf and Becca been married? They seem so much in love.”

  “A shade over three years. He bought a townhouse next to hers and couldn’t keep his eyes off her as she took her daily jog with the dog. He put out a lot of effort to get her to date him and, thank goodness for the guys at the station, she finally gave in. There’s nothing worse than a man who has his heart set on a woman and can’t make any progress with her.”

  Her blue eyes fixated on his. “Women are no different when they want to know a man better. In fact, sometimes we can be kinda sneaky about getting his attention.” She shoulder bumped his and he choked on his Coke, rasping to breathe.

  She straddled his lap and leaned over to pound his back. He got an up close and personal glimpse down her tank top. Now he knew where she stored a pencil, a thin pencil because there was very little room between her firm breasts. Struggling with the urge to cross the line and touch them with his fingers or tongue or face, he squeezed the bottle of Coke in a fit of stress. Soda shot upwards. Graci-Ella laughed as she wiped it off her face and he soon found himself joining in. Hell, it was either laugh or slither away in humiliation.

  A narrow finger ran over his chin. “You’ve got a scrape here. Want me to kiss it and make it better?”

  His mouth had gone dry, too dry to talk; so he
just nodded. Her lips gently covered where he’d bumped his chin on the windowsill. His hands covered her back and he inhaled whatever get-your-sex-here perfume she wore.

  She moved off his lap to sit on the bench again, and his heart began beating once more. “I think I sat on your spilled soda. My ass is wet.”

  God help me. I can’t think of her ass—dry or wet.

  “What did you want to talk about, Graci-Ella?” He bent and set his crunched can on the ground.

  “I’d like for you to be honest about why you won’t even consider posing for the calendar I’m doing. You’re the best looking guy on the squad. You should be plastered across the front of the cover.”

  Years had gone by since he’d been complimented with such enthusiasm. He wasn’t so sure he believed her or felt comfortable with her praise. “My reasons are legal and pertain to the person I love most in this world—my son.”

  “How so?” Graci-Ella took off her sneakers and slid her naked soles back and forth in the grass. “These were not the best sneakers to run in.”

  “Says the woman who wears stilettoes to work.” He patted his thighs. “Put your feet up here and I’ll rub them while we talk.” She pulled her canvas bag onto the bench and lay her head on it as she stretched out on the seat of the bench. He tried not to focus on her hot pink toenail polish as he explained his legal circumstances as well as Matt’s health.

  Every so often, she’d ask a question or moan if his thumbs rotated over a tender spot. “Yes, but since you’ll be wearing jeans, no one—not even a judge—would label it as obscene. Especially for something to help the local foodbank.”