Page 16 of Set Me On Fire

“Little kids…” My eyes slid down to take in that cute dress, because damn, sundresses were always catnip for me, but I forced them back up. “And big ones too. OK, let's start up here.” I climbed the steps up to the first floor and Millie followed me, the boys taking up position at the rear. “A lot of fire stations have phased these things out, but…”

I walked over to the brass pole and grabbed it, moving so I held myself suspended just with one hand and my feet clasped around it. The fact my muscles popped as I held myself there was merely a coincidence.

“We still have one. When a call comes in, we hustle over here and slide down, ready to assemble by our truck. Did you need me to show you how to do it?”

I watched her hands go to her hips, and that smile? Holy crap, how the hell did Noah stop himself from locking this girl down years ago?

“I know my way around a pole.”

“Hmm… hidden depths,” I mused.

“We usually move a lot faster than this when there’s a real emergency,” Noah grumbled.

The guy was trying to put on a brave front. I would too if I’d been rocking blue balls for the last ten years. I’d known the bloke since our days as new recruits and he was always too damn serious for his own good. Noah was totally in love with Millie, and I was about to make sure she knew that, because that’s what best mates did.

“OK, Miss Millie,” I said with a nod, “let’s see if you’ve got what it takes to join the metro fire department.”

I slid down the pole, then looked up, not at all focussed on the flare of her dress as she stepped forward. Noah went with her, hands out, ready to help.

“It’s OK. We can just walk back down if you want,” he told her.

“And why would I do that?”

Pole dancing had become this whole thing for suburban women, and cardio had never looked so sexy. Millie looked like some kind of firefighter’s wet dream, clasping the pole behind one knee and then spiralling down in this beautiful movement, her arm outstretched.

I needed some ten dollar bills, stat, because a performance like this needed rewarding. Millie’s skirt flared out around her thighs, giving me a tantalising glimpse of what lay beneath that dress. If I was staring, though, so was Noah. The guy looked like he was about to swallow his tongue as Millie made her descent.

And so did Knox.

Noah didn’t say much, but I could read him easily. I couldn’t say the same of Knox. The only hint of a response in the big man was how closely he watched her slide. His eyes narrowed slightlywhen she landed with a flourish, turning to slits as I stepped in and offered Millie my arm.

Interesting.

“Well done,” I said, “I feel like you need to teach us some of those moves, though that would make things weird with the fellas. OK, so once we’re all down.” I turned to see Knox and Noah had joined us. “Then we make our way over to the truck and start suiting up.”

I led the way into the appliance bay, walking over to where our firefighting gear was hung up. Millie didn’t make it that far, stopping and staring at the trucks. We each had our own gear, so my hands hovered over Henry’s, ready to pull it down from a peg. That’s when I remembered what Noah had told me.

You’d never know it now, but apparently back in high school he was a skinny prick, and sometimes I think he still felt that. Body dysmorphia, that’s what they called it in girls, so maybe he had it too. He thought he was still that gangly guy from before, not the big man he was now.

“Try this on for size,” I told Millie with a smile, grabbing Noah’s helmet, tunic and pants as I walked over.

“Helmet.” I put it on her head only for the brim to sink forward, partially obscuring her vision. She was forced to shove it backwards, setting it at a jaunty angle. “Tunic.”

I unzipped the front and then held it out for her, watching her turn around and put it on, like I was a date helping her put on her coat.

Yeah, not that. Definitely not that.

“Holy crap,” she said, flapping her arms when she had the tunic on, looking just like a little kid in her dad’s clothes right now. “How big is this Henry guy?”

“Not Henry.” Noah stepped forward, suddenly way too pale. “Charlie must’ve grabbed the wrong gear. That’s my tunic.”

“Whoa…”

She smiled up at him then, and I wondered at Noah’s restraint back in school. A girl like Millie looked at me like that? I’d have her behind the gym for a make out session before lunch was ended. Especially when he smiled right back.

“Not a great fit, huh?” Noah’s voice was lower, huskier, as he tried to straighten the shoulder seams and failed. “Back in high school, you would’ve been able to wear my tunic no problem…” Her smile faded, her eyes questing as she sought his gaze, but he fiddled with the zip, making sure it reached her chin. “Took me a while to fill out.”

“But you did.”

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