Erin sat in her bunkroom, crumpling up paper after paper. The first part was easy for Erin to write. The second part was a struggle.
The Chief irritated her. It wasn’t only because she found him unbelievably fuckable. He admitted he had the power at any given time to rip her team apart. While he said he cared, he’d left them to die. He was probably a good guy, but he couldn’t care for them the same way she did. No one could.
Yet it didn’t decrease her attraction to him one iota. She wanted what she wanted, and now she wanted to finish this assignment.
Tell him ‘something.’ She could write down that he had the most beautiful pair of blue eyes she’d ever seen. Or tell him he’d ruined her free throw form this morning because all she could think about was sex.
He first invaded her dreams, then her firehouse, and now her gym. His phantom presence in her bed was the reason she’d thought lifting and morning shoot around was a good idea. With the smallest amount of encouragement from him, she’d have willingly mounted his pup tent right there.
Then again, ‘encouragement’ was the bigger issue. Most of the time, he acted like she was invisible. Yet sometimes, she swore she caught him looking at her with the same heat from the yoga storage room. Erin couldn’t help herself but to offer, and then he’d clam up, convincing her it was all in her head. Today, she’d been trying to tempt him to yell at her again. Deliberately make him so angry he’d abandon all control to throw her on the floor and fuck her like the blonde predator he had to be.
It was unlikely that’s what he meant when he offered them this writing assignment. Some of the stuff she was writing went from fangirl to poetry to pornographic. She was running out of paper. On the almost last page, she made big block letters that said, ‘THE CHIEF IS HOT.’ Then, like a preteen with her first crush, she colored it in and threw it away.
Last sheet of paper.
Finally, she simply wrote one word on the paper and folded it up. However he interpreted that was on him, not her.
* * *
Noah unfolded the seven pieces of paper that quietly appeared under the captain’s door after lunch. Each piece of paper revealed a small part of the team’s personality. Ideally, it would help Williams when he arrived next shift. At Firehouse 33, Williams had inspired a great deal of loyalty, and Noah hoped things would work similarly here.
Then again, he couldn’t say he ‘knew’ Williams anymore. No more than the members of 15 were interested in anonymity. Not one note was signed, but their personalities shone through.
Cuz my arms are too big to fit in a business suit, and it drives my parents crazy.Accompanied by actual picture of Kevin Jones with huge biceps. It only pissed them off slightly less than when I was a roadie for Jay-Z. Also, you can find the Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition for the past 4 years inside White’s locker from C-shift. Only if you need it, Chief.
For my uncle. I want to be everything he was and do it better. I follow my own course and want to do things my way. Sorry about the engine.
It was more fun than repairing blown fuses. I went from juvie to an electrical apprenticeship program to firefighting. I apologize for losing it on the probie. I hate taking the chance to lose people. I’m fine. Everything’s fine. I’ll do better.
To atone for my failures and live at the edge of life and death. My wife wishes I’d pick something safer, but she trusts you.
Because I want to be judged by my competence, not my looks. I have so much more to offer.
Since guys find firefighters much hotter than teachers – met my husband rescuing his puppy. I miss him and keep his ring around my neck.
Family can let you down, but not your team. Not this team. ROBOT.
Beautiful Erin Hudgens didn’t spare his feelings. It stung to be called a robot, but what else could he do? Any relationship would be impossible, but he desired her still. Worse, she wanted him, and if he didn’t get away from her, eventually he’d succumb.
There was only one safe path here. He needed to make his professional facade impenetrable so that she’d give up any pursuit.
He held the paper up to the light. Something was outlined there.
The CHIEF is HOT.
No matter how much he wanted to be caught.
Chapter 9
The Chief’s parting email for A-shift was direct but vague. They were to report for their next shift on Friday by 0800 and be in their dress uniforms by 0900. They’d worn the uniforms to a ceremony commemorating the events of 9/11 the week before, but this was not related to that.
Per orders, Erin came out of the locker room in her navy dress uniform. She stopped short, passing the captain’s office. Chief Baker stood in his full fire chief dress regalia, a ton of metal on his chest with every bar, insignia, and five Maltese crosses designating twenty years of service. His blazer was perfectly tailored from its five gold braided sleeve stripes to his full Windsor, enhancing his lines in a way that made her feel dumpy. The department had barely altered the seams from the men’s uniforms for the women. Chief Baker’s mandatory white gloves were spotless, not even wrinkled by the large gold chief’s ring on his right hand.
She ignored her impulse to make an impertinent comment or ask if she could mess up Baker’s neat, graying, blonde hair. There was a reason they had been ordered into their dress blues.
Damn, the man could fill out a uniform.
Baker was talking to Matteo Soto, also in his dress blues, adorned with the double bars of the rank of captain with ten Maltese crosses. The rumor of his deteriorating lung problem was likely true, based on the weight he’d lost since his retirement. While she felt bad about his illness, it didn’t make her any happier to see him. Anyone who messed with her team was eternally on her shit list. Her first six months in Ohio had been blissful, followed immediately by cratering. So much could have been different if he had acted differently. Refusing to recommend Aiden for captain was low but requesting special consideration for Luna was plain underhanded.
