Dueling Flames (Firehouse 99 #1)

Chapter 1

“Come on, Lissa,” he said. “I’m going faster than you. I’ll reach five miles before you.”

“I’m not competing.”

“But it’s no fun if you don’t.”

Thorne smiled as he kept his pace on the treadmill. My patience was running thin. We’d been partners for almost two years, and he had to do everything I did. We worked the engine truck or pumper, which held most of the hoses and a shit ton of water.

He shook his head back and forth, sending his sweat everywhere, including on my arm. The move made his black hair stick to his forehead, not quite reaching his eyes.

“Gross. Keep your sweat to yourself.” I tried to wipe it off my arm as I ran.

He laughed. “Let’s see who can squat more after this.”

“No. You know better dan to do dat when we’re working.” Whenever I was annoyed, my Chicago accent came out. And Thorne heard it more than anyone.

General workouts were fine, but testing one’s maximum strength and then fighting fires could lead to injuries.

“Tomorrow, then.”

“Why would I wanna see your face tomorrow?”

He laughed. He always laughed. Ever the optimist, he saw the good in everything and everyone. Like a damned golden retriever.

I glanced over and noticed he’d taken his shirt off. Damnit. The last thing I need is him without a shirt. The man might annoy me, but he was fine as hell. He had a uniformly tanned complexion, even during winter. No doubt his genetics, whatever they were. Not my business, but very nice to look at.

I noticed his shorts were riding up his thick thighs, and I had to look away. He was one pretty man, and then he’d open his mouth and ruin it.

His machine slowed, indicating he’d ended his five-mile run. “I’m going to get some water, then stretch.”

I didn’t respond as he wandered off. He came back while I was wiping down my equipment. I walked over to him because if I began stretching anywhere else, he’d move to join me.

“How can you touch your toes so easily?” he asked, his knees slightly bent as he touched the floor with his fingers.

“You’re doing better than before. Just keep stretching after you exercise.”

“You always say that. Maybe we should do yoga.”

I rolled my eyes, then changed positions to stretch the inside of my thighs. “Dat’s not necessary.”

“No, but it could be fun.”

The alarm bell sounded, indicating a call. We both jumped up and ran for the door.

“Come on, let’s beat the others to the call.”

I trailed behind him. Who exactly was he trying to impress?

Lissa I jumped out of the fire truck as soon as Thorne stopped in front of the burning building.

The two-story home looked as if the fire had been going for a while.

As the first truck on the scene, Thorne and I got to work.

Years of experience took over while I pulled hoses and supplies from the engine.

Thorne ran a hose from the truck with its water tank while I connected one to the fire hydrant located across the street. Our tank might hold close to 750 gallons of water, but it wouldn’t last long.

The second truck pulled up as Thorne lifted the end of the hose I’d just installed and nodded to me to crack open the hydrant to let the water run. Out in the field, we worked like a well-oiled machine, but in any other setting, we clashed. The irony wasn’t lost on me.

I nodded back and put the wrench on the top nut of the hydrant. “On three,” I said.

It took two hours to put out the fire. The other crews checked the rubble for hidden fires while I began unhooking the hoses from the truck. It had run out of water a while ago.

The ashes smoldered under the remains of the old house. The only thing left was the old brick chimney fireplace that stood tall and stained black with soot.

Thorne followed suit and picked up any tools left on the ground. Movement from the corner of my eye caught my attention. I turned to see the old chimney sway, then begin to collapse. We were too close.

“Thorne,” I yelled and pointed. He looked up. We both ran. I heard the thud of all the bricks landing when a sharp pain ran down my arm. I turned back and saw Thorne on the ground with a pile of bricks on his foot.

I watched as the paramedics on the scene ran toward us. Lacey Rogers, one of the paramedics, stood next to me. Her dark brown hair covered her eyes while she inspected my elbow.

“Thought we were getting off easy with no patients. Nope, had to give us work, huh?” she said with a smile.

“Just trying to share the wealth,” I said while watching the others work around Thorne.

“Your elbow is probably just bruised, but we’ll take you in to get an X-ray just in case,” Lacey said while she walked me to her ambulance. The other crew lifted Thorne onto a stretcher.

“Think he’ll be okay?” I asked.

She looked over. “He’ll be fine. The chimney didn’t fall on his head.”

“That might make him better,” I quipped.