Chapter 6
SIX
VAN
It’s quiet at the station tonight.
And it’s a good thing too. We have company.
“Dad!” he yells. “Can we go down the pole?”
“Easy, tiger,” I laugh. “We’ll get there.”
Huck bursts in behind him, eyes wide as saucers. “You have a fire pole? Like a real one?”
Lanie’s right behind them, cheeks flushed from the cold, her scarf crooked from corralling two bundles of energy through the parking lot.
“They’ve been talking about this all day,” she says, breathless. “You’re a hero for inviting us.”
“Happy to be their entertainment.”
And yours, I almost add.
The station’s small—three bays, a handful of bunks upstairs, a kitchen that doubles as a break room—but tonight it feels full. The boys dart from the trucks to the gear wall, marveling at helmets, hoses, and every shiny thing in reach.
“Touch gently,” I warn, and they nod solemnly before climbing up into the engine cab.
Huck finds the siren switch cover and looks at me like he’s discovered a nuclear launch button.
“Maybe not that one, bud,” I say.
Lanie laughs, the sound light and free. It hits me square in the chest.
She fits here—standing under the fluorescent lights in her flannel and jeans, eyes bright with amusement, like she belongs among all this chrome and chaos.
When the boys have exhausted the gear room, I herd them toward the pole in the back corner. It drops from the second-floor landing to the main bay—shorter than the ones in city stations, but still enough to make a six-year-old’s dreams come true.
“Okay,” I tell them, “rules are simple. You slide, you hold tight, and you wait for me at the bottom. No racing.”
TJ looks at Huck. Huck looks at TJ. They nod in unison and take off up the stairs before I finish the sentence.
“They definitely heard ‘race,’” Lanie says, shaking her head.
“Yup.” I grin. “C’mon, you should try it too.”
Her eyes widen. “Me? Oh no. I’ll stay down here and—”
“Supervise?” I tease. “I’ll catch you.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“Afraid I won’t?”
Her lips twitch. “Afraid you might.”
Before she can change her mind, I’m already climbing the stairs after the boys. TJ slides first, shouting something that echoes off the walls. Huck’s close behind, whooping all the way down.
“Your turn!” TJ yells upward.
Lanie stands on the landing, hands on the pole, looking at me like she’s not sure if this is courage or insanity.
I hold my arms out. “Trust me.”
She hesitates only a heartbeat, then swings around and lets go. The moment she hits my arms, all the air leaves my lungs. She’s warm, soft, laughing—then suddenly realizing she’s pressed against me, both of us breathing too fast.
“Nice catch,” she murmurs.
“Occupational hazard,” I say, but my voice comes out rougher than intended.
For a second, neither of us moves. Then the boys erupt in applause, and we both step back like we’ve been caught doing something far more dangerous than sliding down a pole.
Later, when the boys are sprawled on sleeping bags in the bunkroom with a movie playing low, I make coffee in the kitchen, I guide Lanie into my office with two steaming cups.
“Thanks for this,” she says softly. “They’ll be talking about it for weeks.”
“Glad I could earn cool-dad points.”
“You did.” She smiles. “You also earned ‘best friend’ points. I haven’t seen Huck this happy in a long time.”
I glance at her. “And you?”
She meets my eyes over the rim of her mug. “I haven’t felt this relaxed in a long time either.”
The space between us changes—quiet stretches, humming with everything unsaid. I move closer before I’ve fully decided to. Her knees brush my hips, and the touch is so simple, so grounding, that I forget to breathe.
“You really love this job,” she says, voice low.
“I do. It’s one with a mission and purpose. Plus, a fair amount of chaos. It keeps me busy. Keeps me honest.”
She tilts her head. “Is it ever hard with a child?”
“Sometimes,” I admit. “But small-town fires don’t fight themselves. And TJ’s roots are here now. Plus, the schedule works out well with our joint custody.”
She nods slowly, eyes soft. “He’s lucky to have you.”
“He’s my reason for everything.” I pause. “Guess that’s something we’ve got in common.”
She sets the mug on an end table, her fingers brushing mine. “Yeah. It is.”
The sizzling tension between us tightens—then she’s kissing me.
Or maybe I’m kissing her. It doesn’t matter who started it; we both finish it. Slow at first, then deeper. Her hands find my shoulders, my hands her waist, until we’re breathing each other’s air.
When we finally break, she presses her forehead to mine.
“This doesn’t have to be complicated,” she whispers. “Friends with benefits. That’s all.”
“Right,” I say, though it feels like a lie in my throat.
Because what I feel isn’t simple. It’s the way she laughs. The way she loves that kid of hers with her whole damn soul. The way she’s managed to make this firehouse—my firehouse—feel like home.
I kiss her again anyway, because I can’t not.
The clothes just seem to fall off of us. Once I have her bare and naked beneath me on the couch, I press Lanie against the cushions and tear my mouth from hers.
I tease her breasts with my fingers and tongue. I pepper the underside of her full globes with wet kisses and her fingers dive into my hair.
I take one of her nipples into my mouth and tug. Arching her back, she cries out my name.
My hand slides down her soft belly and into the soft curls that cover her pussy. I ease a finger to find her clit. She mews in response. So responsive. Already so wet for me.
Still, I need more of her.
Leaving her open-mouthed on the sofa, I reach into my wallet and grab a condom.
She takes it from me, rips open the foil, and slides it down my throbbing cock.
I flip her over. I stroke her ass, savoring the way it presses into the air, tempting me. Rubbing my rock-hard cock against her round backside, I lift her hips.
Reaching around, I slide my long index finger into her folds, my dick pressed against her.
She cries out as my finger finds her. Gliding my free hand up her belly to grab her breast, my other continues to stroke and caresses her clit. I suck on the side of her neck, listening to her gasping breath as my lips and fingers work their magic on her.
“Come on, baby.” I take a quick bite at her shoulder. “Come for me. Show me what you like.”
Pressing her ass up and against me, I groan even as she calls out my name. My fingers stay with her, urging her toward fulfillment.
She screams. Her pleasure fills me with pride and with a need to be inside of her.
My ears ringing, I move quickly, pulling her hips up even higher as I rise up behind her.
Moving her body just so, I line my cock up at her entrance.
“Ready for me, baby?”
Her answer comes out as a near sob. “Yes.
With her permission, I thrust inside her. She’s so hot, so tight. I clench my teeth together, groaning as she moves against me, urging me on.
One hand gripping onto her hip, my other hand returns to her clit. I stroke her while I ease in and out of her.
I want her to come again.
I want to feel her come on my cock, milking me for all I’m worth.
As her gasps and moans become louder, I quicken my pace. When I’m not sure I can hold on much longer, she lets out a shout.
Her orgasm grips onto my dick, clinging to me even better than I could have imagined. I thrust into her again and again, letting myself focus on my own pleasure now that she’s once again found hers.
It doesn’t take long. I fight the urge to shout as I pour myself into her. Wave after wave of pleasure radiates through my body.
We collapse together, moving slightly to avoid crushing her.
Curled up together, the taste of her skin still on my lips, I know I’m in trouble.
She wants simple.
I’m already in deep.