Page 2 of Flashpoint Feelings

“I hope so,” I murmur, dragging my attention back to the conversation with brutal determination. I force myself to mean it, though I have my doubts. Sure, the team seems friendly enough now, but I’ve learned the hard way camaraderie only extends so far when you’re the only woman on the crew.

Fortunately, with the introductions over, Chief gives me a quick tour of the station. I throw myself into mentally cataloging the exits, equipment locations, and potential challenges, deliberately pushing away thoughts of those green eyes and that arresting wide smile. This station is smaller than my last posting, but it’s spotless and the equipment is clearly well maintained.

“Care for some pizza or a slice of cake before you go?” Chief asks as we wrap up, dipping his chin toward the folding table against the wall laden with pizza boxes and half of a white sheet cake.

“No, thank you.” I keep my tone polite. “I should get going. Big day tomorrow.”

“Of course. I look forward to seeing you then.”

With a final goodbye, I head for the door, squaring my shoulders, despite the lingering ache in my muscles. Tomorrow, I’ll be back in work boots and turnout gear, ready to prove myself all over again. And maybe, this time will be different. But as I risk a quick glance back at my new colleagues and find the redhead’s gaze pinned on me, I have a sinking feeling this station might present challenges I never expected. Challenges that have nothing to do with the job.

Chapter two

Mack

The muggy morning already has my T-shirt clinging to my back like a wet paper towel, and we haven’t even started on the ladder drills. A taxi horn blasts from Columbus Avenue, followed by the familiar banging and clanging of the high rise going up two blocks over. Just another Wednesday in the city that never sleeps.

Like me after last night. Thank God for Brock’s sister, Charlotte, and her perfectly timed coffee deliveries. She breezed in earlier with a tray of coffees from the café down the street, where she works as a barista between acting auditions. Watching Jake try to avoid eye contact with her while simultaneously tracking her every move was arguably better than caffeine for waking me up, though. At least more entertaining.

But even Charlotte’s strongest brew isn’t enough to completely clear the fog of my near sleepless night, and I stifle a yawn as the crew gathers. Usually, I’m out like a light within seconds, but even after midnight, every time I closed my eyes, I saw her, our newest firefighter, with her ice-blue eyes raised to mine, her chin lifted defiantly. Now, I can’t help the way my gaze drifts to whereshe’s adjusting her turnout gear, her dark hair twisted into a tight bun.

Maya Thorne’s a bit of a thing. More than a foot shorter than my six-four frame. But she carries herself like she’s ten feet tall, and I didn’t know I was here for that, but it turns out I am.

Chief’s voice cuts through my distraction. “All right, team, it’s a ladder drill today. We’ve got a three-story reach with an immobilized victim inside. Mack and Brock, you’re ground support. Maya and Jake, you’re handling aerial maneuvers and extraction.”

I nod, grateful for the distance. Maybe, watching the new beauty from afar will help shake this inconvenient obsession.

Minutes later, I realize how wrong I was.

Maya scales the ladder with an efficient grace that seems impossible in full gear. When she reaches the top, she secures the ladder flawlessly, leveraging her petite size to maximum advantage. My pulse trips while she maneuvers confidently three stories up. I grip the halyard rope tightly with both hands and try to dismiss the unexpected apprehension knotting my gut as simple concern for a teammate. But the irrational urge to hover beneath her spot with a safety net confirms there’s something more to my distress. She’s a trained professional, same as the rest of us, but something about her makes my protective instincts kick into overdrive.

I’m so busy tracking her movements I almost miss Brock’s signal to adjust the base angle as Jake starts his climb. Snapping back to attention, I adjust the anchor point and, through sheer determination, stay focused on my job. Minutes later, the drill wraps up clean, with Maya serving as primary rescuer and Jake successfully transporting the training dummy. But it’s not until Maya’s descending the last few rungs that I breathe a sigh of relief, the tension that’s set up shop in my shoulders easing slightly.

Until she dismounts and backs away. She releases her helmet and tugs it off, revealing a grimace of pain, the first and only sign she struggled at all.

Upon closer inspection, I see wisps of her dark hair plastered to her temple. A bead of sweat trails down her slender throat and disappears under her collar. I force my eyes away, cursing the unseasonably high humidity, lack of sleep, and whatever cosmic joke landed this competent-as-hell bombshell at my station.

We guzzle water by the gallon, and I hope Chief will call it a wrap. Instead, his gaze sweeps over us. “One more for the day. Mack, you’re with Maya now. Jake, partner with Brock. This time, let’s try a double climb.”

A double climb?A sensation between dread and anticipation coils in my gut. A double climb means I’ll be right behind her as we ascend together. Inclosequarters. For half a second, I actually hesitate, which is ridiculous. If Chief paired me with Jake or Brock, or even a new guy, I’d already be moving into position. Maya just proved she can keep her cool and handle herself better than half the guys I’ve worked with. Yet, here I am, feeling thrown off my game and clearly the liability in this scenario. It’s not a position I wear well.

“Everything okay there, Mack?” Chief says, eyeing me closely. Damn.

“Yup, all good here,” I reply through gritted teeth. I grab my gear and step over to Maya, determined to ignore how her petite frame makes me want to build ten-foot-tall fortress walls to protect her. Time to be a professional. Even if it kills me.

“Ready?” I ask her with an arch of my brow.

She shoots me a look that could melt steel. “I’m always ready.”

I can see that.This woman’s as defensive as a pit bull guarding a bone. But rather than take offense, I struggle to bite back a grin at her fierce response while I fall into step beside her, increasing my stride to keep up with her pace on our way to the truck.

“What?” she asks pointedly, slinging me a sidelong glance as if daring me to make something of her retort.

“Just admiring your charming personality,” I drawl, trying to show the very tiny, very fierce firefighter she doesn’t have to take everything so seriously.

She scoffs then seems to school her expression. “I’m not here to be charming.”

“Clearly.” I reach past her to grab the stabilizing tether, deliberately keeping my movements casual despite how my skin prickles at her proximity. “Though you might find the job easier if you don’t assume everyone’s out to get you.”

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