Chapter 5

5

CASS

T he firehouse was still, quiet except for the faint hum of the vending machine down the hall and the occasional creak of the building settling into the night. Cass sat alone in the dimly lit common room, a lukewarm cup of coffee cradled between her hands. It was past midnight, the usual dead time during a shift, a rare lull when her team could get some rest before the next call.

But tonight, Cass felt anything but restful. She’d tried everything to shake the restless energy buzzing through her veins: ran through drills with the team earlier, checked equipment twice, even forced herself into paperwork she’d normally avoid. Yet her mind kept snapping back to the one thing she wanted to forget.

Evelyn Ford.

Her jaw clenched at the thought of the consultant’s name, her grip tightening around the cup until the lukewarm coffee sloshed dangerously close to the rim. She’d dealt with bureaucrats before—always there to slash budgets, to dictate policies they knew nothing about—and she’d faced them down with an unwavering resolve. But Evelyn was unsettlingly different. From the moment she’d walked into Cass’s firehouse with that calculated, steely gaze and a confident, almost arrogant stance, Evelyn had rattled her. More than that, Evelyn had gotten under her skin in a way Cass couldn’t seem to shake.

“Focus on the job, Cass,” she muttered to herself, as if speaking it aloud would somehow break the spell. But even as she tried to push the thought aside, memories from their last encounter crowded back into her mind with unnerving clarity.

She could still see Evelyn standing there, calm and unbending, going toe-to-toe with her in that heated meeting. Cass replayed every word, every subtle barb, the way Evelyn’s sharp grey gaze never faltered, her coolness that felt almost like a challenge. Her shiny hair that was never a hair out of place. Cass’s heart had hammered against her ribs, her pulse racing not just with frustration but with something else—something that made her skin tingle and her breath catch. She hated that her body seemed to react to Evelyn without her permission. Hated that someone who threatened everything she’d built could also ignite something within her she hadn’t felt in years.

She set her coffee down and ran her hands over her face, exhaling a frustrated sigh. This wasn’t like her. Cassidy Harris didn’t get distracted, didn’t let anyone or anything cloud her focus on her team, her work. And yet here she was, in the dead of night, haunted by Evelyn Ford’s sharp, unyielding grey gaze, shiny hair, and the lovely lines of her body in her smart suits. She kept imagining what it might be like to tear those perfect clothes from her perfect body. And the thought more than excited her.

Cass leaned back against the wall of the firehouse, the hum of the building’s late-night quiet pressing in on her as she tried to clear her mind. But no matter how hard she pushed, Evelyn Ford kept slipping into her thoughts, like smoke finding its way through cracks. It was maddening, this unwelcome distraction at a time when her department needed her focus more than ever. The weight of her responsibility felt heavier tonight, almost suffocating, as she grappled with the changes Evelyn was determined to bring.

She had promised herself and, more importantly, she had promised her team that she’d do everything in her power to protect them and preserve the firehouse culture that Chief Becky Thompson had built from the ground up. Cass had spent her career in the shadow of Becky’s legacy, learning from the best, witnessing firsthand how a team could become a family. Now as their captain, she knew her crew looked to her for that same stability. Yet every time she was around Evelyn, she felt that foundation shake. It wasn’t just the attraction, though that alone unsettled her. It was the way Evelyn’s presence seemed to make her question everything she thought she knew, every instinct she’d honed under Becky’s guidance.

A nagging sense of guilt gnawed at her. Allowing herself to be distracted by Evelyn felt like a betrayal—not just to her team, but to Becky. Cass could almost hear Becky’s voice in her mind, that steady, patient tone reminding her of what mattered most. Her mentor had poured her soul into this department, building it on trust and unity, values Cass was now charged with defending. And yet here she was, feeling drawn to someone who saw numbers and efficiency where Cass saw people and purpose. Allowing Evelyn to get under her skin felt like she was failing in that duty, like she was letting Becky down by not standing stronger, more unyielding.

But there was no denying it—Evelyn did get to her. Cass hated how her pulse raced in Evelyn’s presence, how even in the heat of an argument, that spark was there, pulling her closer. She’d always been so sure of herself, of her purpose. Now, that certainty was blurring, leaving her feeling untethered at the exact moment her team needed her to be their anchor.

Cass straightened, fists clenching at her sides. She’d made it this far by staying true to what mattered, by putting her crew and their safety above everything. No matter what Evelyn stirred up in her, she couldn’t afford to let it weaken her resolve. Her team’s future depended on her ability to stand her ground, to fight for what she knew was right. This firehouse, these people—they deserved someone who could see past the numbers, someone who wouldn’t be swayed by a fleeting attraction. She had to be that person, for their sake and for Becky’s.

Cass pushed back in her chair, trying to ground herself, trying to remember that she was here for her team, for her department. Evelyn’s “efficiency” cuts didn’t just threaten her crew’s equipment; they undermined the trust and loyalty she’d worked so hard to build. But even as she mentally fortified herself with reasons to resist Evelyn, her thoughts kept drifting back to her. The woman was infuriatingly competent, every word and gesture so damn precise. The challenge she brought into Cass’s world was electric, a clash of wills that made Cass’s blood hum in a way she hadn’t anticipated, hadn’t wanted.

Standing up, Cass crossed the room, restless energy urging her to move, to walk off the tension coiling in her muscles. She paced back and forth, her boots clicking softly on the linoleum.

“This isn’t just about Evelyn,” she muttered, hands on her hips as if trying to talk herself out of the tangled mess of emotions. She told herself it was about her duty to protect the department and her crew, and yet every attempt to ground herself brought her right back to that moment in the meeting room—Evelyn’s face inches from hers, the air crackling with something intense and forbidden.

Cass remembered the way Evelyn’s gaze had softened, just for a flicker of a second before returning to that businesslike coolness. It was almost as if she had seen through the walls Cass put up, seen the fire that simmered beneath her frustration. And for one maddening, breathless moment, Cass had wanted to reach across the space between them, to break the distance with something as raw and unfiltered as the clash they’d just shared.

“Get a grip, Harris,” she scolded herself, but the words rang hollow in the empty room. How could she get a grip when her own mind seemed to betray her? When every rational thought of resistance was undercut by the undeniable pull she felt toward Evelyn Ford?

She knew she should hate her and should resent every cool, calculated suggestion Evelyn made about “efficiency” and “reallocating resources.” And she did. She truly did, with every fiber of her being. But that resentment had become tangled, interwoven with a different fire, a reckless draw that left her feeling exposed and unsure.

Cass paused, resting her hands on the counter and staring down at her reflection in the polished steel. The dim lights softened her features, her eyes shadowed and intense, the lines of tension evident even to her. She’d built her entire career on being unflappable, on being the steady, reliable captain her team could count on. And yet here she was, rattled by a woman who challenged everything she thought she knew about herself.

As she looked at her own reflection, Cass could almost hear Becky’s voice in her mind, that warm, familiar guidance she’d leaned on so many times before. Becky would tell her to push through, to let her instincts guide her, and to remember who she was fighting for. But that advice, that steadiness, felt different now, complicated by the mix of anger and attraction Evelyn had stirred up.

Her thoughts drifted back to the look on Evelyn’s face during their last argument—the flash of heat behind her eyes, the faint tremor in her voice when Cass pushed back. She wondered if Evelyn had felt it too, that strange, almost magnetic tension. Part of Cass wanted to believe it was just her, that Evelyn hadn’t noticed the spark between them. But another part—a small, dangerous part—wanted to believe that maybe Evelyn had felt the same pull, the same unspoken, forbidden energy. And that terrified her more than anything.

Cass clenched her fists, jaw tight as she fought to regain control over her thoughts. This wasn’t her. She wasn’t someone who lost focus, who let a woman with a clipboard and a spreadsheet shake her up. But the more she tried to bury her attraction, the more it seemed to claw its way back to the surface, relentless and insistent.

Finally, Cass grabbed her coffee and took a long, bracing sip, as if the lukewarm bitterness could snap her out of this spiral. She reminded herself, yet again, that this was just another challenge, another person trying to make changes she didn’t believe in. But even as she forced herself to focus on the job, she couldn’t fully ignore the way Evelyn lingered in her thoughts like a storm cloud on the horizon, dark and powerful, promising something she wasn’t ready to confront.

As the night wore on, the quiet of the firehouse pressed around her, thick and heavy, and Cass knew sleep wouldn’t come easily. She’d spent countless nights running over tactics and strategies, thinking through ways to strengthen her team and protect them from any risk. But tonight, her mind refused to cooperate, slipping back to Evelyn’s voice, her steady, maddening gaze, and the possibility that maybe, just maybe, Cass was drawn to her not in spite of her resistance, but because of it.

With a sigh, Cass leaned back against the counter, closing her eyes for a brief moment and letting the tension wash over her. Tomorrow, she’d face Evelyn again—maybe spar, maybe clash—and try to drive a wedge between herself and the emotions she didn’t want to name. But tonight, as the quiet pressed in around her, Cass allowed herself to acknowledge the truth, just for a fleeting second: Evelyn Ford had become more than just a thorn in her side; she’d become a fire, one that Cass wasn’t sure she wanted to extinguish.

It had been a quiet night thus far, though Cass knew better than to voice such a thing aloud. Glass in hand, she returned to the silence of her office, the door closing behind her with a soft click. She flopped down onto the pullout mattress that was a fixture of the captain’s office. No roughing it in the shared bunks for her these days.

God, even exhausted, she couldn’t get Evelyn out of her damn mind. None of her previous fascinations or even partners had captivated her this way. In fact, that was why pretty much all of her past relationships had fizzled and died; she couldn’t get her head off the job and on to them. But Evelyn had completely flipped her. The sharp staccato of her strides now played as a constant soundtrack in Cass’s head. The vision of her fine, perfectly made-up hair, with the same two strands flying out of place, glistening honey highlights on the light. She couldn’t kick the thought. Her voice—blunt, direct—sent needy shivers down her spine. And those perfectly manicured fingers. God, Cass could only imagine what she could do with those.

Her breathing grew shallow, and she felt her lips dry and the air around her became hot. Fuck. She shouldn’t do this; not at work.

Grazing her own short nails across her chest, she caught her hardened, sensitive nipples, gasping as a spike of desire shot through her core. Tighter this time, she pinched, leaning back against the wall, her legs splayed. With a will of its own, her other hand wandered further south. Down and down until it reached the waistband of her pants. Was she really about to do this? She couldn’t stop herself, even if she wanted to.

Fuck, she was already so wet by the time her rough, calloused fingers slipped between her folds. She had to stifle a moan that tried to rip through her. She couldn’t make a sound. If anyone came into her office right now, she would be utterly screwed.

She was too far gone for the risk to stop her. Drawing tight circles around her clit, she replayed recent clashes with Evelyn inside her mind. Fuck, what had the woman done to her; it was like she was bewitched. She tugged harder on her nipples, pinching, squeezing, twisting, almost as though she was punishing herself for her desire. Her fingers slowly sped up until she was gasping for air, round and round they flicked across her clit, driving her wild with need. She couldn’t hold it back anymore. Waves of pleasure crashed through her as she climaxed, tremors wracking her body.

Fuck.

Cass lay motionless on the pullout bed in her office, the ceiling above her dimly illuminated by the faint glow of the streetlights outside. Her breathing was still uneven, her heart pounding in her chest as the reality of what she’d just done hit her like a freight train. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to sink into the mattress, to disappear entirely, as shame and self-reproach flooded her body in a tidal wave.

What the hell was wrong with her?

She rolled onto her side, burying her face in her pillow as if doing so might erase the last few minutes. But there was no escaping it. No matter how much she tried to deny it, the evidence was all there—on her skin, in the way her body still tingled with the aftershocks of release, in the name she’d bitten back in her moment of surrender. Evelyn.

Cass groaned into the pillow, half in anger, half in mortification. She couldn’t believe she’d allowed herself to go there, to let Evelyn Ford— Evelyn Ford —invade her thoughts like that, consume her like a fire she couldn’t put out. It wasn’t just unprofessional. It was dangerous. Reckless. Everything she stood against.

The firehouse was supposed to be her sanctuary, the one place where she could focus on her responsibilities and leave everything else at the door. This office, this pullout bed—was her refuge during long nights and grueling shifts, the place where she regrouped and recharged to face whatever challenges lay ahead. And now she’d tainted it, let something slip through the cracks that never should have been there in the first place.

If anyone knew…

The thought alone made her stomach churn. Cass prided herself on being a leader her team could respect, someone they could rely on to put the job above all else. How could she look them in the eye if they knew how far she’d fallen tonight? If they even suspected that their captain, the woman who was supposed to be fighting for their future, had let herself be so thoroughly distracted by the enemy?

She sat up abruptly, swinging her legs over the side of the bed, her hands raking through her hair as if she could scrub the thoughts from her mind. But it didn’t work. Evelyn was still there, vivid and unrelenting, her sharp blue eyes and infuriatingly calm demeanor etched into Cass’s brain like a brand.

It wasn’t just the attraction that horrified her; it was the power Evelyn seemed to have over her, the way she got under Cass’s skin without even trying. Every argument, every glare, every pointed word Evelyn threw her way seemed to burrow deeper, stoking a fire that Cass had no idea how to extinguish.

And after this? She was compromised.

Cass stood, pacing the small office like a caged animal, her bare feet padding softly against the worn carpet. She needed to get a grip. She needed to shove whatever this was deep down and lock it away where it couldn’t interfere with her job. Because that’s what this was: interference. A distraction. A weakness that Evelyn would exploit the moment she caught wind of it.

The thought made Cass’s hands clench into fists at her sides. This can’t happen again. She couldn’t afford to let it. Not with the department hanging in the balance, not with Evelyn poised to make the kind of cuts that would gut everything they’d worked so hard to build.

Her team deserved better than this. Becky Thompson had trusted her to take over, to protect this firehouse and the people who gave everything to it day after day. And here she was, betraying that trust by letting herself be consumed by someone who didn’t care about their legacy, who saw the firehouse as nothing more than a line item to slash.

Cass stopped pacing, leaning heavily against her desk as she tried to catch her breath. The wood felt cool and solid beneath her hands, a stark contrast to the heat still simmering under her skin. She pressed her palms against it harder, as if grounding herself in the physical world might steady the chaos in her mind.

But even as she stood there, staring at the cluttered surface of her desk, her thoughts kept circling back to Evelyn. Not just the way she looked, the way her lips curved when she smiled, or the sharpness of her wit—but the way she challenged Cass and pushed her in ways no one else ever had. It was infuriating. It was exhilarating.

It was unacceptable.

Cass straightened, forcing her shoulders back, forcing the fire in her chest into something colder, sharper. This couldn’t happen again, she told herself firmly. Tonight had been a mistake, a moment of weakness that she would bury and never revisit.

Tomorrow, she would refocus. She would throw herself into fighting for her team, and she would treat Evelyn Ford exactly as she deserved to be treated: as an obstacle to be overcome, not a temptation to be indulged.

And if Evelyn ever looked at her again the way she had earlier that day, her eyes flickering with something unspoken, something that made Cass’s pulse race against her will? Evelyn wasn’t just some consultant; she was a threat. A threat to the department, to the family Cass had spent years building. If Cass so much as blinked, Evelyn could swoop in with her polished shoes and budget cuts and dismantle everything that mattered. The team wasn’t just her crew; they were her people, her responsibility. Her jaw clenched as she thought of Evelyn’s cold, unflinching demeanor in every meeting. The woman didn’t care about what these budget cuts would do to the people behind the numbers. To Evelyn, it was all a calculation, a bottom line. Cass had seen her type before: corporate climbers who wore tailored suits and wielded spreadsheets like weapons, completely detached from the lives their decisions would destroy.

And yet…

Cass slammed her fist against the desk, frustration boiling over. How could she feel this way about someone so ruthless, so devoid of compassion? What did it say about her that, despite Evelyn’s apparent lack of morals, Cass couldn’t stop noticing the fire behind her icy exterior?

She hated herself for it—hated the pull, the magnetic draw that kept her thoughts circling back to Evelyn. It made her feel weak, like she was failing her team by even entertaining these feelings. This wasn’t her. She wasn’t someone who got distracted by smooth words or sharp cheekbones.

She was Captain Cass Harris, damn it. And no one—not even Evelyn Ford—was going to tear her family apart.

Cass straightened, brushing off the tension crawling up her spine. She wouldn’t let this distraction derail her. Whatever was stirring inside her, she’d bury it. Evelyn might have a spark, but Cass was a wildfire, and she’d burn this feeling to ashes before she let it consume her.

Well, Cass would just have to ignore it. Because there was no room for this. No room for her.

Not in Cass’s firehouse. Not in her life.