by Lyssa Layne
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Other Books by Lyssa Layne
Text copyright ©2017 by the Author.
This work was made possible by a special license through the Kindle Worlds publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by Paige Tyler. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original Dallas Fire & Rescue remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Paige Tyler, or their affiliates or licensors.
For more information on Kindle Worlds: http://www.amazon.com/kindleworlds
Perfect Match
Lyssa Layne
Perfect Match
By Lyssa Layne
New to FDNY Engine 58, proby Paul Jefferson has no idea the expectations that the firefighters before him have set. He walks into his new job with an arrogance that’s sure to land him proby duty for the rest of his days but he has the professional skills to back his attitude. Loving every minute of his time with fire, Paul struggles to find his place in the FDNY brotherhood. Outside of the station, a true playboy at heart, he has no issues making connections, but there’s only one girl that holds his heart.
Paramedic Mariana Barbosa is new to the big city. Luckily, her path crosses with Paul Jefferson shortly after accepting her new position. The two instantly connect and become the best of roommates... or something like that. Behind closed doors, the two are the perfect couple without crossing any lines because Mariana is too afraid to risk their living situation to pursue what her heart is telling her she feels.
When Mariana feels betrayed by Paul, she jumps on the opportunity to date the handsome, good guy from work. Paul isn’t a fan of Mariana’s new boyfriend and starts to slack with Engine 58. Things don’t go as expected with Mariana’s new boyfriend and after she uses Paul to cover her issues, she pushes him further away until it may be too late for either of them to admit their true feelings.
Table of CONTENTS
Chapter One
5
Chapter Two
11
Chapter Three
15
Chapter Four
22
Chapter Five
30
Chapter Six
36
Chapter Seven
44
Chapter Eight
52
Chapter Nine
60
Chapter Ten
64
Chapter Eleven
68
Chapter Twelve
75
Chapter Thirteen
81
Chapter Fourteen
85
Chapter Fifteen
89
Chapter Sixteen
93
Acknowledgements
99
About the Author
100
Other Books by Lyssa Layne
101
Chapter One
Paul
Thick soot covers my cheeks and smoke burns my nostrils, but the grin on my face won’t disappear. For most, a shift that ends like this wouldn’t be considered a good day, but for me, I think of it as the greatest day ever. It’s only been a few months that I’ve been working for the New York Fire Department but I’ve already come to terms with the fact that I will smell like fire for the rest of my life and I love it.
“It’s days like these that make me consider early retirement,” Lieutenant Dan Murphy, or Murph as we all call him, grumbles under his breath but loud enough to be sure we hear him. He rubs his hand over his wavy hair, coughing as he finishes his statement. I highly doubt it’s from any smoke inhalation on the job today. The man smokes like a chimney.
Pulling off my navy FDNY t-shirt, I toss it in my locker and slap his back. “Aw, come on, Murph, you know you love it!”
“Love it? You’re crazy, proby. I’m not in my prime like you. Fighting warehouse fires for ten straight hours isn’t on my list of favorite things to do any more.”
He speaks one thing but the thrill of the fire flickers in his eyes. Murph’s not going anywhere. It’s obvious he loves the fire today as much as he did when he was my age. My smile gets bigger, knowing I’m not the only one pumped up by today’s activities. Twenty stories, fire blazing out every window, it was every fireman’s wet dream come true. The locker beside me slams shut and I look over at Patrick Doyle, a man that’s been in the department for a few years.
“What about you, Doyle? You get hard from the fire today?” I lift my eyebrows up and down, trying to break him out of his shell. In the few months I’ve been here, I have yet to hear the man speak more than a few sentences and only when he’s been asked a question.
“Something like that,” he mumbles, heading toward the shower.
I glance back at Murph and shrug. “What’s his deal?”
Murph shakes his head, taking a seat on the old wooden bench in front of our lockers and pulling out a cigarette. “Let him be, Jefferson”
Reaching in my locker, I grab my toiletries, not ready to let the subject be dropped. “Why? Is he some kind of golden child? You guys give me shit all the time, why is he exempt?”
A hand clamps down on my shoulder and squeezes tightly. I look up into the dark eyes of Salvador Naj, the biggest guy in the station. He reminds me of a contestant in a muscle man show with his near perfect physique and his tan skin. Most guys in the department, Murph excluded, are pretty fit but Naj stands over six-six, making him more than intimidating. Naj has taken me under his wing to show me the ropes. The man can be kind when he wants to and make me hate myself when my ego gets bigger than it should be.
“Drop it, Jefferson” Naj says sternly then nods toward the empty locker besides Murph. The outside says Garrity but I’ve never seen the inside. There’s a plaque downstairs dedicated to a couple Garritys but no one speaks about them. Maybe Doyle was buddies with one of them or something, who knows, but I’m sure I’ll get to the bottom of it someday.
Huffing because I’d rather them tell me the story than make me wait, I follow Doyle into the showers to wash off the hard day’s work that I proudly wear. Spinning the shower handle, I wait for the water to warm up and glance over at Patrick.
“Hey, man, wanna grab a drink?”
Patrick doesn’t even look in my direction as he shakes his head. “Thanks but no thanks.”
“Yeah, you do, Doyle. A drink with your brothers after a hard call will do you some good.” Murph speaks into the mirror instead of facing us as he washes his face. The old man never shows off his pot belly in the general showers and I think we’re all grateful for that.
Patrick glances over his shoulder at Murph then to me and shrugs. “Sure,” he mutters.
“Cool,” I respond and lift my eyebrow. “You got a girl? If not, I can introduce you to someone.”
Murph clears his throat. When I look at him, he’s glaring at me in the mirror and I nod discreetly, taking the hint. Whatever, I don’t care what Patrick Doyle’s story is. Tonight, we’re goi
ng out to celebrate because today was a good day. Today, there was fire.
Mariana
I twirl my shoulder length brunette hair around my finger, batting my eyelashes and pretending to be interested in the firefighter chatting me up. In all honesty, I probably should’ve just headed home after my double shift at the hospital but I thought a drink would help cut my nerves. I know it’s usually the doctors that get all the glory when lives are saved but doctors aren’t always the first on the scene, paramedics are. In the last sixteen hours, I’ve revived three elderly citizens, stabilized four patients going into shock, and delivered a baby before we could get to the hospital. Luckily, I don’t work for another twenty-four hours which is why I’m tolerating this macho beefcake trying to get in my pants.
Twisting my hair around my finger, I giggle and bat my eyes at him. “You really think I have the prettiest eyes you’ve ever seen?”
“Yeah, baby, they’re gorgeous. Why don’t I buy you a drink and I can tell you what else I think is pretty on you?”
Beefcake drops his hand, squeezing my ass. Shocked, I jump forward, which is exactly what he wanted because we are now chest to chest. I reach behind me, removing his hand from my derriere and make an interesting discovery. I pull his hand around, holding it up between both of us.
“What about Mrs. Keefe, your wife? Aren’t her eyes pretty, too?” I narrow my eyes at the gold band on his finger.
Firefighter Keefe’s ego deflates as I’ve called him out and my smirk grows into a grin. He slinks away, as does my free drink, and I turn back to the bar to celebrate my victory alone. Men are such sleazeballs and I love it when I can prove it to their face. The bartender nods toward me to take my order but from over my shoulder someone interrupts.
“Two Sam Adams and a Jack and Coke for the lady… light on the Coke.”
I turn around, only to be face to face with another firefighter, this one much younger than Keefe and kinda hot with his spiky brown hair and deep brown eyes. His smile is slightly crooked and the dimple on his left cheek would make most women swoon, but I’m not most women. The cross necklace that hangs around his neck only draws attention to his fine physique.
“That’s kind of presumptuous of you to order for me without even asking or making an effort to get to know me, like by asking my name.” I lift my eyebrows high, waiting for his cocky response.
“Well, I saw that other guy strike out with you so I figured you didn’t want to go through all that nonsense of chatting again.” His uniform says Jefferson and judging by the lack of stripes and medals, he’s a newbie to FDNY.
“So, what?” I turn sideways, making room for him to squeeze between me and the person on the other side. “You just assume I like Jack and Coke so you order me one and think I’ll crawl into bed with you?”
Jefferson laughs and shakes his head. “I assume you really only like Jack and just order the Coke as a cover so you don’t look like a lush. If you happen to wind up in bed with me later, that’s just a bonus.”
Rolling my eyes, I pick up the fresh drink placed in front of me and take a long swig. “So, how was your shift?”
“Amazing!” His eyes twinkle as he answers. “Did you hear about the warehouse fire over in the business district?”
My stomach sinks at the thought of him, or any firemen, fighting that blaze. My rig wasn’t on that route tonight but I know medics were being sent round the clock to that blaze, it’s how I ended up working a double.
“Yeah, heard it was pretty wicked,” I comment, hiding my face behind my glass as I take another drink.
“Wickedly awesome!” The firefighter’s eyes light up and I wouldn’t be surprised if he was getting hard thinking about the fire, it’s what guys like him do.
“Well, glad you had a good shift and thank you for the drink.”
I hold up my glass and turn to walk away but Jefferson’s hand finds my waist, stopping me from getting too far.
“I have a favor to ask.”
Laughing, I turn around, shaking my head. “Uh, no. I told you that you couldn’t just buy me a drink and think I’d get in bed with you.”
Jefferson squeezes my waist as he shakes his head. “Obviously. Look, a buddy on my squad is having a rough day.” He nods to another firefighter with shorter hair. He sits at the booth in the corner, flipping a coaster back and forth. “Take him this beer and give him some attention for me… please?”
I look up at Jefferson and shake my head. The audacity of this kid to think I’ll just do whatever he wants—
“Thanks, sweetheart,” he says, planting his lips on my cheek and shoving the second beer he was holding into my hand. He sidesteps me and I watch him make a beeline for another chick across the room. That fuckin’ asshole. Cursing him the entire walk to the corner booth, I plaster a smile on my face and scoot in beside his buddy, sliding him the beer.
“Hi,” I say sweetly. “Your friend asked me to bring this over to you. I’m Mariana, what’s your name?”
Jefferson’s friend lifts his head up just enough to mutter thanks and his name. Instantly, my stomach flips as I see the look in his eyes. Something bad happened today, this man is hurting. I glance around for Jefferson, even more pissed off at him for leaving his friend like this.
“Patrick, it’s nice to meet you,” I say softly, dropping my annoying sweet bit. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine, just a long day at work,” he answers, taking a drink from his bottle.
Nodding, unsure what to say or press for, I opt to change the subject. “So, how long have you been a firefighter?”
“Too long,” he mutters mysteriously.
Alright, not much to go on then… My eyes dart around the bar, desperately searching for Jefferson. It takes me a few seconds but I finally spot him walking out the front door with a blonde. Ha, he would like blondes. I look back at Patrick, trying to think of what to say next.
“You don’t have to stay. I’m actually leaving but thanks for stopping by,” Patrick says and stands up, exiting before I get a chance to even respond. What the hell kind of night was this? Hit on by a married guy, pawned off on a friend, then deserted to be left alone? Forget this, I’m going home.
Chapter Two
Mariana
Looking down into the bottom of the empty Ben & Jerry’s carton, I think I might be sick. Chunky Monkey seemed like a good idea to help me forget about the weirdness that happened at the bar tonight but all it did was give me a bellyache and add on to the time I’ll have to spend at the gym tomorrow. Flicking off the television, I take the remnants of the ice cream to the kitchen. I leave them in the sink to clean up tomorrow so it’ll remind me why I feel so awful when I wake up.
Shuffling down the hallway of the tiny, two bedroom apartment I share with my roommate, I make my way to the bathroom. I squeeze toothpaste onto my toothbrush and try to wash away the sugary, bad idea I’d had in order to forget about tonight’s rejection. Was it really rejection? I guess in a roundabout way, it was a whole circle of rejection. I rejected Keefe, Jefferson rejected me then Patrick rejected me too… ouch, I got rejected twice, that hurts, even if I did know one of the guys.
I finish brushing my teeth but they still feel gross so I load up my toothbrush again with minty freshness and brush a little harder. Yucky feeling teeth sure beats the walk of shame though. It wasn’t too long ago that I wasn’t so picky about who bought me a drink and whose bed I’d wake up in. Less than a year ago, I was fresh out of paramedic school and thought I was pretty hot shit when I got offered a job in the Big Apple. I’d spend long hours in the rig, shorts hours in the bar, and even longer hours in a stranger’s bedroom. It wasn’t the healthiest lifestyle, and luckily I met someone who made me realize that the path of promiscuity wasn’t a great option.
Spitting out the toothpaste, I guzzle some mouthwash and decide my teeth finally feel clean enough to go to bed. Leaving on the bathroom light so my roommate can see, I head to my bedroom and pull back the comforter. With
a long sigh, I crawl into bed and close my eyes. Immediately, my mind is blank of the trauma from work, the rejection at the bar, and I’m about to fall into a deep slumber. As I’m about to enter dreamland, the mattress sags under the weight of another body and I’m brought back to reality. The person lifts the comforter up, sliding in next to me and whispering, “You still awake?” I let out a long exasperated sigh but I smile in the dark because this is the best part of my day.
Paul
Lying in bed with my left arm wrapped around her, I pull her close. When she cuddles against my bare chest, I take a deep breath, inhaling the sweetness of her shampoo. This is the perfect way to end a spectacular day, if only every day at work could be like this. I drag my finger up and down her arm, lulling us both into a feeling of peacefulness. She nonchalantly slides her leg over mine, trying to get as close to me as possible and I smile, loving that she thinks I don’t notice these things.
“How was your day?” I ask, my finger still moving up and down her arm.
“Long,” she mumbles. “Thanks for pawning me off on your buddy, Doyle.”
I cringe, only feeling slightly bad for doing that. “Yeah, sorry about that. He’s got a story, I just don’t know what. I thought maybe you’d be able to get it out of him.”
“Yeah, whatever,” she says and playfully elbows me in the stomach. “How was your day?”
