Page 3 of Flashpoint Feelings

“I don’t assume anything. I’ve learned from experience,” she snaps, yanking her carabiner into place with more force than necessary.

The sharp edge in her tone gives me pause. There’s a story there, but now’s not the time to dig into it. Instead, I gesture toward the ladder with an exaggerated flourish. “After you, then, Sunshine. Show me how the pros do it.”

“Sunshine?” she repeats incredulously, flashing those icy baby blues at me. “Really?”

Did I just push too far?

“Not feeling it?” I quip.

If smoke could blow from the top of her head, it would based on the crimson flush creeping up her cheeks. “Do you even know how offensive that is?”

Offensive? Me?I’ve been accused of a lot of things, but never of being offensive. My brows come together, but her tirade continues, as if she can’t hold back.

“Would you ever call Brock or JakeSunshine? Hmm?”

Before I can answer, Jake chimes in from behind. “Actually, he does, all the time. It’s either that or Cupcake.”

“Sometimes Princess,” Brock adds, bringing up the rear as he adjusts his gear.

“I wish it was Mr. March, to be honest,” Jake continues, trailing off when he notices Maya has stopped cold.

She spins to face us, looking right past me to study their earnest expressions, one at a time, as if searching for a sign they’re playing her. But they’re not. She seems to realize they’re telling the truth as she draws in a deep breath then blows it out before turning back to me. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“No worries,” I assure her, with a wink. “No nicknames for you, Thorne. Got it.”

“Thank you,” she whispers, her gaze dropping to the asphalt.

“You’re welcome. And my apologies for offending you. That wasn’t my intention.”

Her eyes lift but remain in narrow slits as her head tilts to one side. She’s trying to puzzle out something in her mind, and it’s a hot minute as she looks up at me, but finally, she gives a curt nod. “Let’s get this done.”

I have a feeling it’s the closest she’ll get to accepting my apology, but I’ll take it.

“Yes, ma’am,” I say with a two-finger salute before I slide on my helmet. She turns away, but not before an eye roll. A move I definitely shouldn’t find as endearing as I do.

Chapter three

Maya

I’m still processing what just happened as I check the harness system carabiner. I thought Mack was giving me a hard time because I’m the newbie. And a woman. But it seems he treats everyone on the crew with the same mix of protective concern and playful teasing. I’d been so quick to assume the worst, to see discrimination where there was only camaraderie, and I’m the one who ended up apologizing. Time to stop jumping to conclusions.

With renewed focus on the next drill, I’m thankful to see the aerial ladder we’re using is rated for higher weight limits. With Mack’s massive frame behind me for a double climb, we’ll need the extra capacity. I adjust my grip on the rungs, grateful for my thick gloves as we begin our ascent. Humid air can make the metal slick, but I’ve trained and rescued in worse conditions.

As we climb, we fall into sync surprisingly easily. Too easily. Mack anticipates my movements, and I automatically adjust for our size difference. I modify my grip points to account for his much longer reach and adapt standard procedures to work with our mismatched frames without even thinking about it.Somehow, it feels as if we’ve done this together a hundred times, though this is the first. I hate how natural it feels, how aware I am of his steady presence right below me.

Until the wind kicks up when we’re nearly at the top, channeling between the buildings like a wind tunnel.

“Gust!” Mack calls out, already moving to brace the ladder. I react instantly, but physics are physics. His massive frame ends up bracketing my smaller one while we stabilize the equipment. The solid wall of his chest against my back makes my skin tingle traitorously, and the pressure of his body pinning me against the ladder awakens something primal I didn’t even know I was missing.

I’m not some damsel who needs protecting, even if his towering presence makes me feel simultaneously safer and more on edge than I’ve been in years. As the ladder stabilizes, I glance over my shoulder to check our position, and our eyes lock.

Time stretches like warm honey, and I watch as if in slow motion as those striking green eyes darken. My lips part of their own accord, and I can’t seem to draw a deep breath. Electricity crackles between us until I jerk my gaze away, my breathing embarrassingly uneven. Behind me, I hear Mack suck in a deep breath.

“You alright?” he asks after a beat, his voice rough.

My spine stiffens automatically at the concern in his tone. Just what I need, another firefighter thinking I can’t handle myself. Especially this one.

“Fine,” I bite out, hoping my voice doesn’t betray how unsettled I am by his proximity.

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