Her Silver Fox Firefighters (Lucky Lady Reverse Harems #1)

Chapter 1

OLIVIA

I didn’t move to Ember Ridge to rebuild my life.

I came here to bury it.

Wrap it in caution tape, and pretend it never existed.

“How was your first week, babe?” Chloe asks.

“Better than expected,” I tell her, peeling the plastic wrap off a cutting board. “Except every creak outside has me jumping like someone’s out there watching. Which is insane, I know. I came here to disappear, not lose my mind. Still… it feels so….”

My hand freezes mid-movement.

Through the window, a dark sedan crawls past.

My pulse spikes hard enough to make my vision blur. For a breathless second I’m sure it’s Marcus’s car.

Wrong color. Wrong model .

I press my palm flat to the counter, force myself to inhale, exhale, and keep unwrapping.

"Strange," I finish weakly.

I've got my phone on speaker while I unpack. Baking trays, piping tools, mixing bowls, and various other accessories that allow me to have some fun while I bake. Every girl has a form of therapy.

Mine happens to revolve around cupcakes. And denial.

"Well, you've got Dax next door. And his friends." Chloe's voice softens. "They're good guys, Liv. They'll look out for you."

"What do you know about them?"

“Personally, I only met them a handful of times as a kid, when they helped my parents with Granny’s house.

They seemed solid. But my mom’s run into them since, and according to her, time’s been very kind.

She goes on about how built they are—total rugged ex-military vibes.

You know, the kind of guys you pretend not to drool over at the grocery store but totally do. You’ll see what I mean.”

I focus on stacking cupcake tins, anything to keep my hands moving and my brain from fixating on Chloe’s description of the men next door—men I have no business thinking about.

“They sound interesting.”

“Girl, you don’t know the half of it. Rumor has it, they’re… unconventional. Let’s just say no one’s ever seen them fight over gi rlfriends.”

I groan. “Great. Sexy superheroes with a possible group-project fetish, right next door.”

“The point is, they’re ex-military,” Chloe says, her voice dropping. “Real combat, not weekend drills. One of them even has a Silver Star, according to my mom. Bottom line? If Marcus ever showed up, which he won’t, you’d want those guys in your corner. They’d have your back.”

“You know I’m not here to make friends, Chloe. I’m here to stay off the radar, nothing more.”

“I’m sorry, Liv. I can’t imagine how it must feel.”

“It’s okay.” My voice comes out low, a little raw. “I walked myself straight into that mess, then chained myself there because I couldn’t face the consequences. And now…”

"Now you're out and far away. You might as well start to live a little while you're at it," she says, her tone brightening deliberately.

"Ember Ridge may be small, but it's part of a huge district with an amazing scene that’s right up your alley.

Bakeries, restaurants, farmers markets—all the stuff you love. "

“Yeah, I can see that.”

“So have you at least met anyone yet? ”

I chuckle softly as I set the kitchen stuff aside and open another box.

Clothes and shoes—all ordered online with prepaid gift cards.

No paper trail. No way for Marcus to track my purchases.

“Nope. I do my grocery shopping after eight at night, and I stay indoors during the day like the world’s most boring vampire. ”

“Olivia…”

“What? You expect me to be the town’s social butterfly with a secret identity?”

“You can’t hole up forever. Nobody knows you there.”

“And I need to keep it that way until Marcus forgets who I am.”

She scoffs. "He'll never forget. The man has the capacity to hold a grudge forever. But if we're lucky, he'll pay for everything he's done. In the meantime, you need to heal and rebuild. You won't accomplish that by living like a recluse."

“Maybe in time…” I trail off, lifting a dress I’ve always loved. It’s been ages since I’ve had a reason to wear it, and just the feel of the fabric between my fingers makes something ache in my chest.

I catch my reflection in the tall mirror.

My eyes look tired, hollowed out.

My cheekbones are sharper than they should be. It'll be a while before I get the glow back.

Marcus didn’t just ruin my past, he damn near sucked the life out of me.

"Oh, speaking of living a little—did you get it?" Chloe asks, her tone shifting to something mischievous.

"Get what?"

"I sent you something. The courier confirmed delivery this morning."

My stomach drops. "Chloe, what did you do?"

"Just check the porch!"

I drop the dress and head for the front door. "I thought I heard something earlier… "

Sure enough, there's a box waiting for me. I pick it up, phone still pressed to my ear, and pull the lid off. The paper safety seal tears with a satisfying sound.

Inside, wrapped in bubble wrap, is something pink and decidedly anatomical.

"What the hell?"

I yank it free from the wrapping. It’s the biggest dildo I’ve ever seen, complete with veins and ridges that make my core clench involuntarily.

A folded note slips to the floor.

Self-care is important. XO, Chloe.

“Chloe, you absolute?—”

The thing suddenly buzzes to life in my hands, a low rumble that grows louder, meaner.

I must’ve brushed a button, because now it’s twisting and jerking like a rabid power tool, bucking against my grip.

“Shit—stop, stop?—”

It bucks harder, nearly slipping through my fingers, and panic takes over.

In a split-second reflex, I fling it like it’s about to explode.

Time slows as I watch it sail through the air in a perfect, humiliating arc.

It smacks the top of the neighbors’ fence, wobbles for a breathless second, then tumbles into their yard.

My blood turns to ice.

Because at that exact moment, the back door swings open.

Three men step onto the porch in fire department uniforms, coffee mugs steaming in their hands.

And instantly, I understand what Chloe’s mom meant.

They’re not just attractive.

They’re the kind of devastating that makes your pulse forget how to pulse.

The first one is tall with shoulders that look built to carry a house, a jawline sharp enough to slice my self-control, and steel-gray eyes that immediately lock onto mine like a predator spotting prey.

My breath catches and, God help me, my thighs actually clench.

The second has intricate tattoos snaking up both arms, peeking from beneath his department T-shirt. His salt-and-pepper beard frames a smile that’s pure sin, and when he spots me, that smile widens.

My stomach flips and a ridiculous part of me wonders if that mouth comes with a warning label.

The third is dark-skinned with close-cropped curls threaded with silver, and eyes like whiskey in firelight. He moves with a quiet, commanding presence that makes my knees forget how to function .

My pulse trips over itself; heat skims low in my belly even as my brain screams at me to stop looking.

I’ve never been this close to men like this outside of a movie screen. Not in real life. Not with their scent of coffee and soap drifting over.

And then they all freeze, staring down at the vibrator.

It's still going. Twisting. Rumbling across their pristine lawn until it bumps into a garden gnome and just… sits there.

Purring.

Spinning.

"God…I need lightning to strike me right now," I whisper in horror.

The tattooed one sets down his mug first, shoulders shaking with barely contained laughter.

The gray-eyed one looks like he's personally offended on behalf of the gnome.

And the third man calmly walks over and picks up the vibrator with two fingers like it's a piece of crime scene evidence.

He examines it, finds the button, and mercifully shuts it off.

The silence is deafening.

"Well." The tattooed one grins at me, wicked and knowing. "You've got excellent taste."

"I… am so… sorry." My voice comes out stra ngled.

Even through my mortification, my body betrays me.

The gray-eyed one’s gaze has darkened, the tattooed one’s grin makes something hot and reckless unfurl in my chest, and the third man’s steady stare feels like a slow drag across my skin.

My palms are damp, my pulse a runaway drum.

He approaches the low fence separating our properties and reaches over.

I force my legs to move, meeting him there on trembling knees.

He hands it to me, his fingers brushing mine.

The brief touch sends a jolt up my arm, my breath stuttering as if my body hasn’t gotten the memo we’re mortified.

"Should I ask how it ended up in our yard?" His voice is deep, smooth as aged bourbon.

I glance back at the other two. The gray-eyed one is hiding a smirk behind his coffee mug.

The tattooed one looks downright delighted.

I shake my head mutely.

“It was an accident,” I manage, voice shaky. “My friend sent it, and I didn’t know it would just?—”

“You don’t need to explain,” the quiet one says, his tone calm but his eyes carrying a heat that steals my breath.

“I’m Olivia!” I blurt out, shoving the dildo behind my back, desperate to change the subject. “I never got a chance to introduce myself.”

That was intentional, of course. Staying invisible had been the whole plan—but it’s officially blown to hell now that my first impression is a live-demo of Sex Toy Olympics in front of my stupidly gorgeous neighbors.

"Something tells me every time we cross paths, it will be memorable." The tattooed one chuckles from the porch. "I'm already looking forward to what happens next."

I don't know whether to laugh or cry. What I do know is that I need to steer this conversation somewhere—anywhere—else.

"Your uniforms," I say quickly, latching onto the first neutral topic I can find. "You're firefighters?"

The gray-eyed one shrugs, that almost-smile still playing at his lips. "We are. Do you plan to continue launching projectiles into our yard?"

"You're really not going to let this go, are you?"

"Why would I?" His gaze drops to my flaming cheeks. "You're blushing. It's cute."

"Dax, leave her alone." The tattooed one laughs, then turns to me. "We're with the Ember Ridge Fire Department. Dax and Leo are lieutenants—Truck and Squad. I'm Beck, an EMT."

"That's… really cool," I say weakly.

"How are you settling in?" Leo asks gently, clearly noticing my inner turmoil. "Everything okay? House treating you well?"

“Yes. Yeah, thank you.” My voice comes out too quick, too breathless. I clear my throat and try again. “Thank you for asking. ”

“Anytime,” he says. The way his eyes hold mine makes it sound like more than a courtesy. “If you need anything, we’re right here.”

“I’ll… okay.” My fingers tighten around the dildo I’m still hiding behind my back. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

All three of them look at me with an intensity that sends a new kind of electricity down my spine—half embarrassment, half something I really don’t want to name yet.

Something that could be very dangerous for my already-battered heart.

Given that I'm still clutching a vibrator behind my back, my best option is to disappear inside.

Immediately.

Possibly forever.

Dax checks his watch. "Ten minutes and we're out, Leo. Your coffee's getting cold."

Thank God for that opportunity to make my exit.

I offer an awkward wave, spin on my heel, and flee into the house, slamming the door behind me.

Through the window, I hear Beck's laughter carry across the yard.

My phone is still on the porch. Chloe's voice drifts up faintly: "Liv? Liv? What's happening? Why do I hear men laughing?"

I lean against the door, face burning, heart racing for entirely new reasons.

Apparently hiding out in Ember Ridge comes with hazards I wasn’t prepared for. The biggest ones are six feet tall, carved like temptation, and just witnessed me lose a fight with a vibrator.

I think my plan to fly under the radar just imploded.