Page 4 of Fireman Daddy’s Tempestuous Little

CHAPTER THREE

Mira

My brain wasn’t working.

And worse, the part that was working was just busy thinking about how this man I despised took charge, looked sexy as hell, and was completely right about getting fire trucks headed my way. The dispatch operator didn’t say anything other than, “Give me your address,” and then just read it back to me and told me help was on the way.

God, what kind of woman was I that at a time like this when my house was burning there was a big concern in my head that I’d given Drew a reason to be smug, a reason to brush aside anything I said to him. For God’s sake, the man was actually in my house now, doing God knows what in that tight tee shirt that showed off his muscles and those pajama bottoms that made his ass look like it was carved out of granite.

And the way he just got moving!

There was no hesitation when he heard what was going on. It was immediate action hindered only by the need to give me instructions with his phone. The man took charge, and he took charge in a breathtaking way.

God, I wish I’d finished with my masturbation. My nipples felt so damned hard I thought they might burst right through my shirt. My pussy pulsed with need. The pent-up arousal made me horny right now thinking about what he was doing, and if he came back and saw me, there would be no way to mistake the prominence of my nipples at the moment.

Jesus! Why was this stuff even going through my head when my house was burning?

A terrible thought hit me and it affected me physically so I actually had to lean against the railing of Drew’s porch. If. I’d just thought if Drew came back.

If.

He was inside a burning house. Sure, he was a sexy firefighter but one of the reasons he looked so damned sexy at the moment was that he wore a tee shirt and draw-string cotton lounge pants. I didn’t even think he had shoes on. He was in my house without his fire clothes, without the oxygen tanks, without a mask, and without a fire hose.

It felt damned crazy to realize I was suddenly terrified that he would die.

Terrified!

It wasn’t just the kind of fear a girl might get about a man she knew. I was specifically terrified about losing Drew, which was a damned crazy thing to feel given the last few years of wishing he’d move away. I held tightly to the railing of the porch and felt completely useless and scared.

When I heard sirens, I felt such an amazing sense of relief it made me feel even weaker. I grasped the wooden railing of Drew’s porch so tightly my knuckles turned white, and I felt splinters entering the palm of my hand. I couldn’t let go, though. I felt like if I did, I’d just fall over.

A few seconds after I heard the sirens, I saw the lights. An engine and two paramedic vans. The lights and the sirens attracted the neighbors and by the time the fire department vehicles skidded to a stop in front of my house, a small crowd had gathered on the sidewalk.

Vince, who despite our spat over Stout three years ago was probably my favorite neighbor, walked over to me. “Drew inside?” he asked.

I only had the strength to nod.

He put his arm around me and said, “Don’t worry. Drew’s a tough kid. He’ll be all right.”

That’s why I love Vince.

The firefighters quickly attached their hoses to the fire hydrant and prepared to battle the blaze. One of them rushed to me and asked, “You’re the homeowner?”

“Drew’s still inside,” was all I could manage to say. My voice sounded thready and weak to my ears.

“We know,” he replied. “He’ll be okay. He’s the best point man in the company.”

I didn’t respond. I only watched anxiously as the blaze continued with no sign of Drew. The firefighters holding the hose looked to the one standing next to me for instructions and he shook his head and called, “Drew’s inside!”

“Still?” the other man called back.”

The one next to me shook his head and glanced toward me. The message was clear. Don’t let on that we’re worried about him; we don’t want to scare her.

Well, it was too late for that. I was good and frightened and the fact that all of my fright had to do with concern for Drew’s safety and not my house was surprising.

I didn’t dwell on that, though. I didn’t dwell on anything but my worry for Drew.

And my guilt. For the first time in three years, I fully realized how much of an asshole I had been to Drew. He’d been nothing but polite and patient with me and the only times he’d ever been anything else were when I instigated a fight over his dog.

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