Page 4 of Playing With Fire

Evelyn’s footsteps echoed softly in the empty hallway as she made her way to the exit, the stillness of the station amplifying every detail—the subtle creak of the floorboards, the faint hum of fluorescent lights, and the occasional distant clatter of movement from somewhere deeper inside the building. She was rehearsing the next day’s strategy in her mind, the focused rhythm of her thoughts keeping her stride steady.

Turning the corner with purpose, Evelyn’s thoughts were already tangled in logistics and numbers, the calculations and reports that had become her constant companions since arriving in Phoenix Ridge. She barely registered the shadow of movement in her periphery before her shoulder collided with someone—someone solid and unyielding. Instinct kicked in, and she shifted just in time to avoid a full-on collision, her shoulder brushing a steady arm as she stumbled a half-step back. The contact was fleeting but electric, a jolt that seemed to light up every nerve ending.

In that split second, everything around them faded. The busy firehouse, the echo of distant voices, the fluorescent hum—it all vanished, replaced by the charged silence of the narrow hallway. Evelyn’s eyes lifted, meeting Cassidy’s startled gaze, and the world narrowed down to a single breath. Cass’s dark blue eyes were wide with surprise, her expression momentarily unguarded. And there was something else there, too—a glint ofsomething raw, curiosity threaded with a challenge that seemed to cut right through Evelyn’s carefully constructed composure.

She felt her heart stutter, an uninvited reaction that sent a surge of heat through her. This was just Cassidy Harris, she told herself, the same stubborn fire captain who had argued with her over every point in that meeting. But standing this close, Evelyn felt her own practiced calm slipping, her pulse kicking into an unsteady rhythm. She’d faced down politicians, CEOs, critics—all without blinking. Yet here she was, in the hallway of a firehouse, rendered breathless by a look.

“Apologies, Captain,” she managed, her voice sounding steadier than she felt. She took a small step back, putting an inch of space between them as she forced herself to exhale. Her hand twitched at her side, itching to dispel the lingering warmth from that brief touch, but she resisted the impulse, letting her fingers rest calmly at her side, even as her chest tightened.

Cassidy’s surprise faded quickly, a small smirk pulling at the corners of her mouth as she tilted her head, an acknowledgment as much as it was a silent dare. “No harm done,” she replied, her tone low, the words rougher, almost intimate in the confined space. They echoed in the hallway, filling the narrow gap between them with a pulse of something hot and alive. Cassidy’s gaze lingered on her, a spark of intrigue flickering beneath her steady exterior.

And that look—it unsettled Evelyn more than she wanted to admit. Cassidy’s stare wasn’t filled with the polite professionalism she was accustomed to nor even the guarded hostility from their earlier meetings. There was something piercing and hungry in it, something that both unnerved and thrilled her, a challenge that reached beyond their professional friction and into the core of her own guarded reserve.

As Cassidy stepped back, Evelyn felt the faintest brush of her scent—smoke, adrenaline, and something unmistakably earthythat clung to her like an afterthought. It lingered, even as Cassidy’s tall muscular figure started down the hallway in her navy blue fire uniform, her steps confident and sure, shoulders squared with that undeniable presence. Evelyn’s gaze trailed after her, unable to look away, a reluctant fascination drawing her eyes to the captain’s form as she moved with an ease that bordered on grace.

What the hell was wrong with herself? Evelyn forced herself to breathe, squaring her shoulders. This wasn’t like her, this flare of irrational attraction that had no place here. She was Evelyn Ford: calculating, efficient, always in control. She knew better than to let emotion interfere with her work, and yet, here she was, unsettled by a fire captain who seemed to be every bit her opposite. Cassidy Harris was infuriating and stubborn, always so certain of her own way of doing things. So why did Evelyn’s skin still prickle from that single accidental touch?

Get a grip, Evelyn. She forced herself to focus, to shove the thought down, to file it away as some fluke of chemistry or stress. It didn’t matter. But as she turned away, heading for the exit, the hallway suddenly felt too narrow, the air charged and suffocating. She’d built her career on objectivity, on keeping everything perfectly measured and controlled. The last thing she needed was this disruption, this…unpredictable, unfamiliar distraction.

As she walked out into the cool night air, she hoped it would clear her head. She took a long, steadying breath, but the ghost of Cassidy’s gaze stayed with her, lingering beneath her skin like an unwelcome thrill, a reminder of the unexpected spark that flared in that brief moment.

Evelyn paused, pressing her fingertips to her temple, as if that might erase the memory. But she couldn’t shake the way Cassidy had looked at her, the weight of that moment. No, this was just another job, another clash of wills in a career built onmaking hard decisions. She repeated that to herself, hoping it would sink in, hoping it would smother the unnerving flicker of heat that had ignited in Cassidy’s presence.

But somewhere deep down, she knew this was different. And that, more than anything, made her uneasy.

Evelyn settled into the driver’s seat, the car’s interior quiet except for the faint ticking of the cooling engine. The silence seemed to wrap around her like a shroud, muting the lingering hum of the evening’s encounter. She let out a slow breath, the movement shallow, as though exhaling too deeply might break whatever thin hold she had on her composure.

Her eyes drifted to the station, the warm glow spilling out into the dark street, the figures moving behind frosted glass that seemed worlds apart from her. It was strange, almost infuriating, how Cassidy Harris managed to unsettle her. She’d faced tougher opposition in boardrooms and across negotiation tables, leaders with hardened gazes and iron-fisted control over their domains. But there was something different about Harris. The way she carried herself, the silent pledge she seemed to make to everyone around her—it wasn’t just leadership; it was loyalty personified.

Why should that matter?Evelyn’s jaw clenched as she turned the thought over. She reminded herself that her job had never been personal. Her role was to bring efficiency, to cut through the tangled web of outdated practices with precise, uncompromising changes. Phoenix Ridge Fire Department was no different. Cassidy Harris was just another piece on the board, a player in the push and pull she’d grown accustomed to.

But then why did she linger in my mind?The question pressed in uninvited, and Evelyn’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel, the knuckles paling. She told herself it was the thrill of challenge, the friction of meeting resistance that made her pulse spike. There was no other explanation, no deeper reason. Cassidy’s blue eyes, fierce and searching, and the fleeting touch of her big strong hand—it was all circumstantial, nothing more.

Evelyn shifted in her seat and looked at her reflection in the rearview mirror. The face staring back at her was controlled, each line familiar, each expression rehearsed. She gave herself a sharp nod, as if cementing her resolve. Tomorrow, she would start implementing the first phase of changes, no matter how many unspoken promises hung in the air or how many challenging stares met her across the table. Cass Harris was formidable, yes, but Evelyn knew how to manage resistance, how to turn it into a tool for her success.

A flicker of light caught her eye as the fire station bay doors closed, sealing off the warm, chaotic life inside. She shifted the car into gear, the low hum of the engine cutting through the silence. The station’s lights blurred and then disappeared in the rearview mirror, and Evelyn’s expression returned to its practiced calm, the armor she always wore.

But even as the road stretched ahead, dark and lined with the promise of order she would bring, her fingers flexed unconsciously on the wheel. The echo of Cass’s stare, that searing moment where their hands brushed pulsed just beneath the surface. With a deliberate exhale, Evelyn pushed it away, eyes fixed forward and mind reset.

It was nothing, she told herself. An anomaly, irrelevant to the mission. And as the city lights of Phoenix Ridge swallowed her up, Evelyn made sure the hint of a smirk never touched her lips, no matter how stubbornly the memory tried to intrude.

3

CASS

Cass sat at her cluttered desk in the modest office of the firehouse, the morning sun spilling through the window and casting a warm glow over the stacks of reports and the mementos of past calls that adorned her workspace. A framed photo of her team at last year’s annual gala stood prominently, smiles wide and arms slung around each other in a camaraderie forged in the heat of battle and the warmth of friendship. It was a comforting sight, a reminder of her purpose as she prepared for another busy day.

The sharp trill of the phone broke the calm, and she reached for it instinctively, her heart lifting as she recognized the number.

“Chief Thompson!” Cass exclaimed, the name spilling from her lips like a long-lost song, her voice carrying both excitement and nostalgia.

“Cass! Sunshine and waves here. It’s absolutely gorgeous!” Becky’s voice poured through the receiver, bright and teasing, like a splash of warmth from the past. Cass could almost see her former chief, stretched out on a beach chair, sunglasses glinting under the sun, a faint laugh line crinkling around her eyes.

“Lucky you! What are you up to?” Cass asked, leaning back in her chair. A smile tugged at her lips as she settled into the warmth of Becky’s familiar tone, feeling the stress of her day begin to ease.

“Oh, you know, just enjoying retirement,” Becky replied, the sound of waves in the background making it clear she was living out her dream. “Lucinda’s out snorkeling—I swear, she’s part fish—and I’m just catching some rays. You wouldn’t believe the colors here, Cass. The water’s like glass, turquoise, and teal, as if someone splashed a postcard across the whole ocean!”

“Sounds perfect,” Cass said with a wistful sigh. “You deserve every bit of it, you know. A little sunshine therapy after years of putting out literal and figurative fires.”

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