Page 65 of The Night Belongs To Fireman

“Got a call from the firehouse. One of our guys, Double D, needs some help. He and his wife are moving, and he dropped a microwave on his leg. Classic Double D. Fractured it in two places. He’s out of commission and they have to be out of their house by Friday. His wife is freaking out.”

“They can’t hire movers?”

Fred had to take a deep breath before he answered. Moments like this reminded him of the world Rachel inhabited, one in which money solved most problems.

Not all problems, he reminded himself, or she wouldn’t be living like a refugee in her own apartment.

“They don’t have that kind of money. Firefighting isn’t exactly a high-paying profession, and they’ve got two kids in college. The kids are in the middle of exams, or they’d fly back and help. That’s actually why Double D’s moving, so they can lower their mortgage payments.”

Rachel bent to let Greta sniff a piece of rawhide, letting her hair fall across her face. Through the dark tendrils of her curls, he saw a wave of crimson stain her skin. Damn, he hadn’t meant to embarrass her. She’d revealed enough about her history that he knew she hated the ways in which her father’s status isolated her. “Right. Of course. So you and your friends are going to help out?”

“We’re making a work party out of it. I’m supposed to bring some beer. And some muscles. My assignment is to help Patty pack up the bedroom.”

“Why you?”

He shrugged, embarrassed. “She says I’m the only one she trusts with her personal stuff.”

“Really?” They reached a quiet section of the park. After a careful check, Rachel unfastened Greta’s leash. “I should think she’d want another woman. Why not Sabina or One?”

“I can’t believe you remember their names.” He’d told her all about the various members of the firehouse crew, but he hadn’t expected her to pay such close attention.

“Of course I remember. In my head, they’re like characters in a movie. Especially Sabina, since she was actually in a movie. Why doesn’t Patty want Sabina to help her?”

Fred took the training toy from Rachel. His role was that of “victim.” He’d hide and Greta would have to find him. “Sabina intimidates her, and One’s on vacation. I wasn’t even going to go, since I’m on leave, but we always try to help each other out when stuff goes down. Especially when someone gets hurt, although usually injuries happen on the job, not from a kitchen appliance. Anyway, Double D called and begged me. He claimed he would have been on his knees if he weren’t on crutches. Then he made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

She hung on his words, her eyes alive with merry laughter. He’d never seen anyone get so much entertainment from hearing about the firehouse. “I can’t wait to hear. What’s the offer?”

“First of all, Patty’s making her special lasagna. But the big thing is that he promised to sing to me. ‘Call Me Maybe.’ You’d never guess it, but he’s got a great voice. I would have made him dance too, but he’s on crutches.”

“Is he a good dancer?”

“Not at all.” He gave an evil grin. He missed the firehouse, missed the teasing and the comradeship. He even missed Double D, salty old coot that he was.

“Well.” Rachel cocked her head, tossing Greta’s leash from one hand to the other. Greta panted excitedly, eyes shining. She loved the training sessions; they involved retrieving things and winning treats, after all. “I think I should come too.”

“Excuse me?”

“It sounds like they need all the hands they can get. If I can be helpful, why not? Besides, I can meet the other firefighters. They won’t be characters in a movie anymore.”

“You sure you want that? You might enjoy them more from the safety of a movie theater.”

“Don’t be crazy. I’m sure I’ll love them. We’ll tell them I’m your cousin or something.”

He looked at her dubiously. “Well, we both have dark hair. I suppose we could pass for cousins.” When she offered him one of her wide, spectacular smiles, the ones that reached right into his gut and stirred him all up inside, he gave in to the constant urge and yanked her against him. “I’m pretty darn glad you’re not my cousin.” He nibbled her soft, sweet-smelling neck until she giggled and squirmed.

“None of that in front of the guys.”

“Hell no. You’d never have any privacy ever again.” He took a quick glance around, then snuck his hand under her T-shirt and stroked her silky skin until it warmed and her nipple rose against the worn fabric of her T-shirt. “I think something urgent has come up. Want to hide behind a tree and play ‘victim’ with me?”

“No, thank you,” she said, flushing as he fondled her responsive nipple. “But if you do really well in this training session, I’ll give you a treat.”

“Oh boy!” Fred released her and bounded across the grass in great, Greta-like leaps, the sound of Rachel’s merry laughter chasing him. Her laughter was all the reward he needed; throw in more between-the-sheets time, and he was a happy guy.

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