Page 199 of Forbidden Heroes

“I’m glad you do because I sure the fuck don’t. What am I going to do? I can’t go home for however long she’s there.”

I know there’s no truth to my words the second I utter them. Guilt eats at me for how I left things this morning. Seeing her in those shorts, that sweet pouty, freshly awake look on her perfect face. Her body fisted me so perfectly. How long can I hold out before I want more? Crave more? Not long. I know it.

My phone pings. When I pull it out of my back pocket, my blood pressure shoots through the roof.

I shove it back into my pocket before Duke tries to take a peek, already planning how I’m going to make the little tease pay for sending me such a naughty picture of her pretty pussy covered in pink silk.

The alarm fills the fire station and all thoughts of Bela, sex, and two different shoes leave my mind. My brain clicks over and the entire house moves in unison.

Duke and I are out of my office and on the floor in seconds, our training kicking in.

We are geared up and rolling in less than eight minutes. “Where is the call coming in from?” Duke is behind the wheel and maneuvering us through the slow morning traffic. Cherry Falls doesn’t have a lot of it, but a couple of times a day it can get a little deep at the red lights.

“Orphanage.”

Shit.

Smoke is already climbing into the sky in the distance. When we roll to a stop everyone jumps into action. Several women and small children are running out of the large three-floor Victorian home. I gear up, grab my ax and turn to go into the burning building, knowing my teams will have each other’s backs.

A soot-covered woman barrels out of the front door. We lock eyes and she grabs my arm. “Chief, there are three girls, top floor, back room.” I usher her out and take the stairs three at a time.

I don’t call out for fear the girls will run out and hit weak flooring. Flames lick along the south wall and that’s the same direction I’m heading. I have to hurry. The smoke isn’t too thick. Yet. But that will change in a matter of a few seconds.

Duke comes up behind me and together we clear each level while another team does the same for the north end of the house.

When we reach the top floor the sound of cries directs us to the three girls.

The door is open and we find this section of the house untouched by the flames. In less than two minutes we have the girls safe and outside with the rest of their friends.

Several people surround us, clapping and cheering on the team. I’m not about the accolades and back-patting. Let the men have all they can take. Seeing these kids safe is my only priority. I see a few have burns but they are being tended to. Water rushes from hoses and everyone stands back as the only home most of these kids know burns.

Someone would pay for this.

I pull off my air tank and stow it away. A flash of purple and the scent of coconut catches my attention. I draw up short.

“Bela?”

She kneels over a child who won’t stop crying but magically stops when Bela passes her a muffin. I can’t seem to look away. The woman is like Mary Poppins or something.

“Bela,” I say again and settle a hand on her shoulder. Pretty brown eyes come up to meet mine.

“Miles?” Surprise lights her face but it’s gone in a flash. “Of course, you’re here.” She shakes her head incredulously. “We should stop meeting like this or not much of the town will be left.”

Her arms are full of soot-covered kids, blankets, and those damn muffins of hers.

“Like what? What are you doing here? Were you in there? Are you hurt?”

“Whoa, Miles, slow down. I only meant like only when there’s a fire, it was a joke. You know to help ease the stress a little. I deliver muffins here every Monday for breakfast. It’s a thing I do. I just happen to be in the right place at the right time. To help.” Her eyes drift over to the kids being tended by their caretakers.

“Are you hurt?” Red burn marks cover a small patch on her left arms just below the elbow.

“Don’t lie to me, Bela.” I lead her over to the rig and pull out the first-aid kit and start dressing the burn. It’s mild, but I still must sting. “Were you inside when the fire broke out?”

She takes my hand. “I’m not lying, Miles. I’m fine. Trust me. And no, I had just pulled up when the kids were being ushered out. I helped get a couple of the younger ones out. I got caught in a couple of places it seems.”

“Let’s hope there never is next time.”

“Touché.”

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