Chapter 1
Anthony turned the rig into an older neighborhood with mature trees, sliding to a stop in front of a small house. It was a routine call for a fire at a residential home. But we were prepared for anything.
I opened the door and hopped out, the fire alarm sounding. My fellow firefighters followed behind me with the hose. I pounded on the door, and it swung open.
"Where's the fire?" I barked at the kid who stood in the doorway looking fearful.
He pointed his thumb over his shoulder. "In the kitchen."
"Anyone else in the house?" I yelled following the smell of smoke.
"No," he called back.
"You need to go outside," I ordered, making a mental note to talk to him about a proper fire escape after the emergency was eliminated.
I relayed the location of the fire to my colleagues and raced toward the kitchen, snagged the fire extinguisher on the counter, and sprayed the flames that were licking the curtains.
Anthony and the rest of the crew followed me with the hose, ensuring no embers remained burning.
On the stove, there was a scorched pan and what looked like a badly burned grilled cheese. The stench of burned food permeated the room even through my mask. The stove top was black, and the cupboards next to the stove were charred.
Most likely, the fire started on the stove and quickly ignited a towel or hot pad, then moved to the curtains. It was a common scenario in kitchens and a dangerous one. In a few more minutes, the room, the one above it, and the entire house would have gone up in flames.
"I'll talk to the kid," I said to Anthony, who nodded.
Any time I was on site, the chief wanted me to be the one to engage with the homeowners. My coworkers said I had a way with people, especially panicked ones.
Outside, the kid, who looked to be about twelve or thirteen, stood on the grass, gazing up at the house with a guilty expression on his face.
I pulled off my helmet and asked gently, "Where are your parents?"
He swallowed hard. "My mom's at work."
"She on her way?" I asked him.
He nodded.
My jaw tightened, but I worked to keep my tone light. "Is there a reason why you didn't exit the house immediately?"
"I thought I could get it out. We have a fire extinguisher. I just couldn't get it to work. I didn't want it to get worse."
He wanted to get rid of the fire so he wouldn't get into trouble. But he didn't understand how quickly a fire could burn out of control.
"It's good that you had one. But next time, leave the house at any sign of fire. Don't try and put it out yourself. You could have been badly burned or injured from smoke inhalation." He could have died if he hadn't called 911. Most smoke detectors are designed to get the inhabitants out of the house. They are not a direct line to the fire department unless the house has a security system that links the fire alarm to the fire station.
"I should have. I'm sorry."
Someone parked a sedan behind the rig. A woman with long, dirty-blond hair got out of the driver's side in a panic.
"Owen!" she exclaimed in relief as she saw him. She touched his cheeks and rested her forehead on his. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," he said, but his voice wobbled.
Owen's mom was probably just happy he hadn't been hurt.
"Oh, thank God." Then his mother hugged him tightly.
I gave them a few seconds to comfort each other, admiring the curve-hugging skirt and her long legs before she pulled back and raised a brow in my direction.
"Good afternoon, ma'am. I was just telling your son that he should have exited the house immediately, not tried to put out the fire himself. These kinds of fires ignite quickly and can take down an entire side of the house within seconds."
Owen blanched.
The woman nodded. "I'll talk to him."
Anthony appeared at my side, confirmed the fire was out and that there was no longer a threat.
"I'll be there in a minute," I said as he went back inside. "Ma'am, it's good you have a fire extinguisher in the kitchen. But you'll need a new one, and you should really receive some instruction how to properly use it."
The woman slowly nodded. Even though she wasn't present during the fire, she looked like she was in shock.
Every instinct was directing me to get her to sit. I touched her elbow and guided her onto the porch into one of the wooden rockers.
The boy hovered nearby.
The smell of burned remains wasn't as strong out here, but the woman trembled.
Her eyes were slightly frantic. "I probably need to call my insurance company."
"You'll have plenty of time for that." I went inside and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and unscrewed the cap before rejoining her on the porch. "Drink."
She took the bottle from me with shaking hands. "Thank you."
"You look familiar," Owen said to me.
I turned my attention to him. "I substitute teach and fill in for absent bus drivers. Mainly in the middle schools. Sometimes I play basketball at recess. Maybe you saw me once."
Owen nodded. "Maybe."
I relaxed slightly. "We play basketball at the firehouse to relieve stress. It's fun playing with the kids at school."
His mother's forehead wrinkled as she looked from Owen to me. "You teach, and you're a firefighter?"
I gave her one of my charming smiles, the one that told people not to take me too seriously and shrugged. "What can I say? I love kids."
She studied my face as if she was trying to figure me out.
I shifted on my feet. "You'll need to air out the kitchen tonight, maybe set up some fans."
She straightened her shoulders. "Can we stay here tonight?"
"Once we complete our investigation, you'll be cleared to go inside. You might want to stay in a hotel until the smell dissipates."
The woman stood, looking less pale than she had a few minutes ago. "Thank you for your help and for putting out the fire so quickly. I can't even imagine what would have happened if you hadn't arrived."
"Thankfully, Owen called us before he attempted to put out the fire." I need to get away from this woman; there was something about her that was drawing me to her. It was odd because I dealt with panicked people on every shift. None had affected me like this. I was usually able to keep an appropriate distance emotionally.
I turned my attention to Owen. "Next time—"
Owen nodded soberly. "I'll get out, then call nine-one-one."
I nodded. "If you don't have your phone on you, don't look for it. Just run to a neighbor's house. They can call for you. The important thing is to get out of the house. You're more important to your mom than this house."
"He's got that right," his mother agreed.
"And I'll drop off a fire extinguisher."
She frowned. "You don't have to do that."
I'd found over the years that the extra effort, whether it was a reminder to check fire alarm batteries or a fire extinguisher, was all it took to prevent a tragedy. "We have extras for this purpose. I can show you how to use them properly too. My name is Jameson."
"I'm Claire Coleman. I can't thank you enough for saving my son."
I swallowed hard because I couldn't promise he would have been okay if he'd been alone and hadn't called 911. A child could easily have inhaled too much smoke and passed out while the fire spread. "You're welcome."
Then I left them on the porch to process what just happened. It was normal for me to stop back in and check on the homeowner, sometimes delivering the investigative report and following up with new fire alarms, batteries, and fire extinguishers, especially if the homeowner wasn't particularly handy or abled.
This situation was different because I was attracted to this woman. I shouldn't spend any more time with her, but I wanted to see her again when we weren't in the midst of an emergency situation.
I joined my colleagues in the kitchen. I tried to push the woman and her son out of my head. I ran into attractive women all the time on the job. Why was this one so intriguing?
* * *
Iwaited a few days to go back to Claire's house. I didn't trust myself around her, but I'd promised her I'd bring extinguishers, and I never went back on my word.
I reviewed the report before I headed over. I couldn't help but think her name matched her appearance. She was a no-nonsense woman who had her shit together. Even if I was attracted to her, there's not a chance she'd want anything to do with a guy like me. One who couldn't make a decision on his career choice and had three jobs at any one time.
Besides, this was a business call. Something I'd do for anyone. I needed to stop thinking about this woman as anything more than someone who needed my help.
I waited until evening when I thought she'd be home, noting the sedan in the driveway before I knocked on the door.
Owen opened the door. "Jameson?"
I stepped inside. "I promised to stop by with fire extinguishers."
"Mom, the fireman's here."
His mother appeared in the hallway. Today, she wore a silky see-through-looking blouse tucked into a curve-hugging skirt, but her feet were bare. The painted hot pink nails made her even more endearing. "Is your husband home? I should talk to everyone at once."
I would have said this to any home I came into. But I wanted to know if she was married. When I was here last, I'd been too caught up in the moment to look for a ring.
Claire balked for a second, then quickly recovered. "It's just us."
She was a single mother. That shouldn't have sent a thrill through me, but it did. "Do you have time to talk?"
She moved toward the kitchen. "You said you'd stop by, but it's been a few days, and I didn't think you would. Do you always make house calls?"
"It's important that every home be prepared in the event of a fire. I want to make sure you have a working fire extinguisher in your kitchen, and you know how to use it."
Claire smiled as she moved behind the counter. "Before this happened, I didn't realize the fire department did that."
"If you ever need to use the extinguisher, you'll know how in the future." I'd brought several with me because I'd use one to demonstrate.
"Should we go over it outside?" I asked her.
Claire nodded. "That works."
She led me through the slider to the back deck.
I battled with my eyes not to let them drop to her ass, which looked incredible in that skirt. If one of the teachers at my middle school had worn curve-hugging skirts, the kids wouldn't listen to anything she had to say. I certainly wouldn't have.
I was having naughty teacher fantasies, and I didn't even know what she did for a living. For all I knew, she was an attorney or a librarian. The heat flared in my belly, quickly spreading through my extremities. The cooler night air was a balm to the current state of my body, which was a raging inferno.
Claire raised a brow once we stood outside. "You were going to demonstrate how to properly use a fire extinguisher?"
She was waiting for me to speak, and I was fixated on how hot she looked which was inappropriate when her son was standing next to her.
I cleared my throat, placing two of the extinguishers on the planked floor, and lifted the one I'd use for the demonstration. "Fires in the kitchen are common so you have to be careful there aren't any wooden spoons, hot pads, or towels near the burner."
"I know that now," Owen said.
I suspected Claire had read him the riot act the night of the fire.
"It's up to you whether you're okay with him cooking when you're not home to supervise." When Claire opened her mouth to respond, I added, "I promise you; I'm not judging the situation. You're the parent, and you know him best. I just wanted to go over the easy ways to avoid something like this happening again."
Claire nodded. "Okay."
"My sister was a single mom for the first seven years of my niece's life. I know how hard it is. How you can be pulled into two different directions, never feeling like you're doing the right thing."
Her face immediately softened.
I turned my attention to Owen and flashed my most charming smile. "You want to know how to use this?"
He nodded eagerly.
"We call it the PASS method. Pull the pin at the top of the extinguisher, which will break the seal. The pin prevents it from accidentally discharging." I showed him where to find the pin and pulled it. "Aim it at the base of the fire, giving yourself some distance. Squeeze the handles together like this for it to discharge. Sweep the nozzle from side to side as you approach the fire, directing it at the base of the flames." I handed the extinguisher to Owen so he could show me how well he'd listened.
When he didn't squeeze it hard enough, I showed him the amount of pressure that would be necessary. When I was satisfied he knew what to do in the future, I asked, "Now in a real fire, what are you going to do?"
Owen's cheeks flushed, and he looked at his mother, who I'd bet gave him an earful. "Get out and call 911."
"Remember what I said, if you don't have your cell phone, leave it. You can always go to your neighbors and make the call. You are more important than any physical item in this house." He was the most important thing in his mother's life. I was positive of that. I remembered how easily my mother loved, and how good my sister Daphne was with her daughter, Izzy.
Owen nodded. "I know."
"I'm showing you this so you know what to do, but I don't want you to fight a fire, no matter how small it seems." Then I turned my attention to Claire. "It's your turn."
She moved toward me, so close that I could smell a citrus scent, most likely from her shampoo or her lotion. "What do you want me to do? Should I extinguish the fire or get out?"
"You get your son out. If you're home alone, and it's contained to the stove, you can try the extinguisher. If at any point, it spreads and you are not actively discharging the agent, you get out of there. A fire like this spreads quickly, leaving you in a perilous situation."
Claire bit her lip. "That makes sense."
"Why don't you show me how well you paid attention?" I smirked at her, knowing she'd had her gaze on me engaging with her son the entire time. I knew the affect I had on women. But Claire was a little different. Was her attention for me as a firefighter or something more physical? I preferred the physical, but I'd take both. Very few people in my life thought my job choice was a good one.
Claire took the extinguisher from me, removing the pin I'd replaced, then squeezed the handles.
"On a live canister, you'd need to use a bit more force."
Claire's lips quirked. "If I'm in that position, I'll probably have superhuman strength because I won't want my house to burn down."
I couldn't help but wonder why she hadn't included her own safety in that scenario. "You should want to save yourself too. Your son needs you."
Something flashed in her eyes. I wished I could put my finger on it. "I'd do anything to protect Owen."
"I know you would. Moms are kick ass." My voice softened.
Claire raised her brow.
"Sorry. We swear a lot at the firehouse." I directed my apology to Owen.
Claire shook her head.
"I'm starving," Owen said as if he'd die if he didn't get something in his stomach soon.
Claire smiled apologetically. "Would you like to stay for dinner? We were just going to eat."
I gathered up the canisters and followed them inside. "I wouldn't want to intrude."
"You wouldn't be." Claire flashed a smile over her shoulder. "I ordered too much Chinese food for just the two of us. I thought a friend was stopping by, but she cancelled."
There was something about being in this house and around these two that made me long for something more than an apartment over my dad's garage. My brothers teased me about never growing up, and now I was starting to wonder how I ever expected to have a relationship with a woman if I still lived at home. Especially someone so put together as Claire.
"Where do you recommend we place the fire extinguishers?" Claire asked me when we returned to the kitchen.
"Somewhere near the stove is good. You just need easy access to it."
Claire took one and placed it in one of the lower cabinets next to the stove. "Please let us thank you by feeding you."
The damage was covered with a sheet. It would probably take a few weeks for the insurance company to approve a contractor to complete the repairs.
I smiled, the one that never failed to make women a little off-kilter. "I'd be happy to stay for dinner."
Claire grinned, then turned to the fridge to pull out the to-go containers. "Have a seat."
I sat on a stool at the island while she plated the food. Owen had disappeared, probably to his room.
Claire glanced over at me. "Owen should be doing his homework. I still can't believe you teach in middle school. I teach at one too, and we're short on subs. Not many people want to teach that age. The kids can be rude and out of control."
"I love that age group. It's where they're first getting that taste of independence, and they're trying to fit in." There was something about guiding young people that I thrived on. It wasn't what my family would think of as valuable though.
Claire returned her attention to the plate of food, placing it in the microwave. "We're so short on subs that the regular teachers have to fill in for chorus and the miniclasses, like cooking and tech ed."
"If you need a sub, you can always request me."
"How do you fit everything in with firefighting?"
I shrugged, uncomfortable with the scrutiny. "We're twenty-four hours on, and forty-eight off. I don't like to sit around and do nothing."
"I'm surprised you'd chose to work more on your days off."
I chuckled. "You and my family both. They don't get it."
"I, for one, think it's amazing. I wish we had more subs like you." Claire smiled wide, knocking me off-kilter. It was a new feeling for me.