Firemen Next Door

Chapter 1

~

Rhea

“You can’t be serious,” I said, staring at the slightly rotund man with the odd tan lines who stood in front of me with one thick eyebrow raised. “The website didn’t say anything about that when I booked.”

“Should’ve read the fine print,” he grumbled in return, crossing his arms over his chest. “Those fees were for transport. You want us to take it all inside, you pay extra.”

I glanced over his shoulder at the array of furniture and boxes that he and his assistants have left somewhat haphazardly strewn over my new lawn. It had taken them half an hour just to get everything out of the truck, nevermind getting everything into my new house.

Not sure I would’ve bought the place if I knew how much trouble moving would be, I thought with a sigh. I rubbed my temples and closed my eyes for a moment. I’d already had a long day, and I really didn’t want to spend the rest of it slogging all of my stuff inside.

“Please,” I finally said, my voice already starting to tremble. “I didn’t know that. Can’t you cut me some slack? It won’t take you long to get everything inside, will it?”

“Already told you.” He was still gruff, and it was pretty clear he wasn’t planning on budging. His three guys stood by the truck awkwardly, but none of them so much as looked at me. In fact, they seemed fairly eager to leave.

“Okay, okay.” I paused and thought for a moment. I’d already spent a ton of money on all of this, and there was no way I could stretch my pennies even further to pay what he was asking. “Listen, Peter…”

“That’s not my real name.” He tapped at the tag on his yellow golf shirt. “Just grabbed it when I clocked in. Lady, if you’re not going to pay the fees, we have somewhere to be.”

I was only feeling more desperate by the second, but at this point, I didn’t think that Peter, or whoever he was, would find it in his heart to help me any further.

“I beg you,” I said anyway, trying one last hoorah. “I mean, you don’t expect me to lug the fridge up there, do you? The couch? That one massive dresser? Can’t you at least help me with those? Please. I wouldn’t ask if I could just do it myself.”

“You pay $90, we do it.”

I did not have $90 for this. I barely had that cash for anything at all, really. “I can’t.”

“Then we’re done here.” Peter-whatever didn’t wait for me to try anything else. He let out a long, loud whistle and walked back to the moving truck. One by one, each of his guys got in while I watched in exasperated silence.

Then, the truck and all of its muscle was gone, and I stood on a front lawn covered in everything I owned with absolutely no plan. The panic was quickly rising up in my throat and making me feel more than a little ill.

Get it together, I thought, taking a deep breath. You can do this.

After all, this wasn’t the first tough thing I’d ever done.

I’d pushed through years of a mediocre job just to buy this house in the first place.

I had done everything in my power to become independent.

It was going to be fine. Sure, the fridge was probably heavier than I was, and I’d definitely need to defy the laws of physics to get that dresser up the porch steps.

But people did impossible things all the time. I just needed to get started.

“Boxes first,” I muttered to myself as I clasped my hands together and took inventory of everything that had to be done in my mind. It was still early in the afternoon, so I had at least four or five hours before it got dark.

I walked up to one stack of boxes, all labelled “kitchen.” I had no idea what was where, but that was the fun part. Opening everything and finding presents for myself. For now, though, I had to get it inside.

With a grunt, I gathered the top two boxes in my arms, and began the awkward march to my new front door.

They were heavy, and I moved frustratingly slowly, but it was progress nonetheless.

I placed them on the porch and opened the front door.

Inside, the house was light, cozy, and eerily empty.

It wasn’t huge; a two-bedroom starter with nothing fancy.

But it was mine, and I was proud of that.

After delivering the first set of boxes to the little kitchen, I felt a sense of accomplishment. It was enough motivation to get myself right back outside to grab the next set.

“Oh, boy,” I muttered when I stood in front of the stack again.

The top box had torn in one corner, badly enough that my cutlery had started peeking out from it.

Still, if I could keep it balanced properly, I was sure I could handle it.

Lifting with my legs, I gathered it up, and turned back to the house.

It felt as if I had started getting some kind of rhythm. If I kept going like this, I could make it, I was sure. I just needed to stay positive and be patient. When I reached the porch steps, I was extra careful. One foot, then the other. Up and up, right to the top.

Unfortunately, this was the point at which the universe decided it was a good time to pull a prank on me.

My foot caught on a loose floorboard, and I was sent flying, as was the precarious box I was holding.

I managed to keep myself from slamming face-first into the ground, but I paid for it with several splinters digging into my hands.

Around me, the box’s contents had been sprinkled all over the place, like a fork-based glitter bomb.

“Well, that’s just great,” I said as I got myself into a more dignified sitting position, before letting out a slew of curses under my breath. I’d barely gotten started and I was already messing up, and I could already feel myself starting to get sweaty.

Moving definitely wasn’t as fun and exciting as I thought it was going to be.

“Looks like you could use some help.” The sudden deep voice made me jump. When I looked up toward the source, I was immediately speechless.

“Uhm…” I managed, but nothing else came out. I wondered for a second if I’d been knocked out and was now having some sort of concussion-induced dream.

There were three guys standing on my lawn.

The one that had spoken was smiling from beneath warm hazel eyes and unruly curls.

To his left, was the tallest of the three, who wore a slight frown on his face and concern in his slate blue eyes.

To the right, a man who looked like he’d walked out of my favorite bad-boy vampire series.

All three were more than handsome. They were blazing hot.

And on top of it all, they were wearing firefighter uniforms.

They must have come from the fire station next door; the reason my new house had been so cheap. Most people probably didn’t want to live with the constant lights and sirens. I had been sure it wouldn’t bother me too much. After all, I had curtains and headphones.

Now, though, I was convinced that the station should have pushed the property value up instead.

“I’ll get the first aid kit,” said the tallest guy, running a hand through his short, neat hair before walking off with the best posture I’d seen in a long time.

“I don’t…” I started, but my voice trailed off as the other two approached me. The golden-haired guy reached out a hand to help me up, while his dark-haired companion began quietly picking up the toppled box and its contents.

“I’m Beck,” the spokesperson said as he got me to my feet gently. “That’s Ash, and Calder’s probably going to be back any second to take care of these splinters.”

“Thanks.” I could feel my cheeks heating up under Beck’s gaze. He was still smiling, a boyish look that made me feel as if he was capable of proper mischief. His hands were tough, but warm, and I almost immediately imagined being curled up against him watching an old movie.

The thought made me look away. I didn’t know these guys. It was silly to develop an immediate crush like this.

“The movers just left you by yourself?” Ash asked as he re-packed the broken box. His voice was low and slightly hoarse, and immediately gave me goosebumps. He sounded more than a little annoyed about my predicament.

“I mean, uh, yeah. But I didn’t read the small print, so it’s really my fault.” I laughed it off awkwardly.

“A real man would ignore the fine print,” Ash pointed out, before he carried the box inside.

Beck laughed, and hopped down onto the lawn to grab another box himself.

As he did so, Calder appeared from the station’s direction wielding a big first aid kit that seemed fairly unnecessary for dealing with a few splinters.

He walked across the grass with purpose and a stride that made my knees weak. I realized I was watching him a bit too intently, so I cleared my throat and pretended that the porch fence was far more interesting than it had any right to be.

I only looked up again when I heard him speak. His voice was kind and patient, definitely the kind you’d want to hear when you’re in an emergency.

“Where’re you hurt?” he asked, his eyes catching mine so deeply that I had the urge to swallow. I noticed a scar above his left eyebrow and wondered what heroic deed it had come from.

“Just a few splinters,” I answered in a near-whisper, holding my hands out for him to inspect. “Nothing serious.”

“Let me see.” He leaned forward slightly, and I caught a whiff of his cologne; spicy, but not overwhelming. It was almost familiar, like a comforting hug or a soft blanket. I let him look over my hands, before he started going through the first aid kit.

“This might sting a bit.”

I tried not to pull a face as Calder cleaned up my hands and got the splinters out. It did hurt. At the same time, I wanted to lean into it. Maybe he’d get even more protective than he already seemed. I wanted him to wrap me up in his arms and tell me everything would be okay.

Before I got carried away with that fantasy, I shook my head to clear it. I was being completely ridiculous. These guys were simply being kind. There was no reason to think anything more than that.

“Thank you,” I finally said with a smile, squeezing Calder’s hand just as he was about to pull away. He glanced at my face, the corner of his mouth lifting, and I felt my heart start to race. “Anyway, uhm, I can’t just sit here and let you guys do everything. I should at least carry one box.”

Beck laughed from the bottom of the porch, where he was now holding a whole stack of boxes in his lean, but muscled arms. “Don’t worry about it. You’ve had a rough day already. We’ll make quick work of it.”

I had to admit that I was enjoying watching them. At the same time, I was supposed to be independent. I couldn’t let them do it all.

Stubbornly, I marched back down to the lawn and grabbed the “bathroom” box that had most of my toiletries in it. “It’d be even quicker if we all worked together.”

Calder and Beck shared an amused look, while Ash simply shrugged from where he was standing beside the fridge.

None of them objected any further. Instead, we created a kind of assembly line, and the lawn was getting ever clearer as we moved.

Pretty soon, the only things left were the heavier furniture.

But the three of them made all of it look like it weighed nothing, almost dancing their way up the porch steps and inside.

When that was done, I met them outside the front door, disappointed that it was all over. Some part of me wished that I owned more stuff just so I could keep these three absolute hunks of men around for longer.

They were all watching me expectantly, and I wasn’t entirely sure what to say.

“Seriously, guys,” I started, letting out the breath I’d been holding for a long moment. “I have no idea how I’m ever going to thank you for all of this.”

Calder raised the eyebrow beneath his scar, a sly smile forming on his lips. “I can think of one way.”

“Oh, yeah?” I managed to sound teasing, and crossed my arms to really sell it. But beneath the mask, my knees were weak, and my ears were hot. I felt like a nervous teenager.

“I’ll call it even if you agree to go on a date with me,” Calder said, which drew a laugh from Beck and a smirk from Ash.

“Me, too,” they said simultaneously, and it felt like I was about to explode.