Worse, this is the exact opposite of what he was trying to teach his firefighters. Women on the team were to be respected and treated as equals. They were not sex objects to be drooled over. No matter how much he wanted to bridge that barrier and explore her, he would be doing her no favors.
Yet in the face of humming his way throughPour Some Sugar on Me, his body gave zero fucks. Same went for his dirty mind.
He turned off the water and found a towel. The ice water in his self-flagellating shower worked to dampen his erection. A blessing since fire department uniform pants were not particularly forgiving to his package. The lack of flexibility was unfortunate compared to how stretchy his shorts had been in the gym back at Firehouse 15.
Noah put on new uniform pants and opted to wear his old Firehouse 33 shirt rather than borrow a full uniform. Even though it had been six years since he’d left, he’d spent the majority of his career there. Each time he touched the threadbare cotton, it reminded him of where he’d been. Comfort in the face of where he had to go next—alone.
Someone knocked on the door to the hotel room they’d rented for staging. The door opened and, as expected, Haskell entered.
“Lunch arrived. My aide is keeping an eye out for miscreants.” He set two boxed lunches on the table and indicated Noah’s discarded uniform. “Sorry about all of that.”
“What’s to be sorry about?” Noah asked.
“When I planned the three-legged race, I didn’t expect you would be running it too. Or that you would land in the water pit.”
“No need. Getting hit with water is a hazard of the job,” Noah answered.
“I think that went well.” Haskell took a bite of a sandwich.
“It did,” Noah agreed, and not only for its intended purpose of building teamwork.
He’d learned a lot about Erin Hudgens today. She had a lovely voice; she was a good dancer; she had no problems taking charge on the course… or in bed.
Noah wasn’t about to share those observations, so he went for another topic. “How’s the new battalion?”
“These two weeks were better than I expected. How did you get all those independent suburban departments on board with the plan?” Haskell’s new battalion included the five reopened stations and two future stations.
“I didn’t.” Noah smoothed his T-shirt. “Twenty closed stations put six hundred people out of work. The city negotiated with the local unions and bought out about two hundred people with nice retirement packages. The suburban unions combined with the Cleveland Union and got their fees waived. With the paramedics busy in Rescue Alpha, I had a few people marking time on D-shift, waiting to get called up. Then I gave them a young whippersnapper who could be molded to their needs instead of molding them.”
Haskell started laughing, which loosened a knot in Noah’s chest. The battalion chief was three years older than Baker and had almost died during Noah’s battalion chief days. Haskell’s recovery had been difficult, to the point he’d considered retiring soon after Noah had reached Fire Chief. “Molding them as Alan molded me.”
“Are you doing okay? There haven’t been too many big calls since the apartment in August,” Noah said. Haskell had been handpicked by Noah for his resiliency and dedication. Still, one never knew how a recruit would handle the mantle of leadership, no matter how much coaching Alan Hastings in Operations gave his assistants.
“I was ready for it to be worse, but even covering McClunis’s call, it hasn’t been too terrible. You’re putting in a lot of hours, though.”
“It’s been rough to do the work of three people,” Noah admitted. “Alan is doing part of my chief paperwork, even though he keeps whining about not having an assistant.”
“I like having an aide for that stuff.” Haskell quirked an eyebrow at him, asking, “Why don’t you have one?”
Noah shrugged, “I have two secretaries at HQ. It’s more important for all the other chiefs to have aides. At a big scene, I’ll use an aide who’s already there.”
Part of his initiatives had been to decrease administrative overhead. Noah opted to skip an aide for himself and used the money to add Jacob Carver to the probie class. Ideally, his investment would pay off in dividends down the line for Rescue Alpha.
Haskell ventured, “Now that we’ve discussed how you’re overworked, I’m going to be trading some shifts. I’m taking time off in December or January. Also, I won’t be at the Firefighter Ball that I won’t be helping plan.”
“You aren’t helping?” The job of overseeing the details of the annual holiday ball usually fell to the newest battalion chief, which had been Noah until three years ago. Hannah Fitzpatrick was typically in charge of planning it, but they still expected input from the chiefs.
His battalion chief had big news, though. “Haskell 2.0. is due on New Year’s Eve.”
“I find that excuse unconvincing,” Noah deadpanned. “You weren’t promoted to increase the local population, again.”
“This is your fault anyway,” Haskell said. “I don’t sleep in the firehouse anymore. ”
“I got it,” Noah cut him off before Haskell overshared. “Hopefully, McClunis will be back by then.”
“If anyone can come back from that, it’s her. She’s tough as nails.”
“Unfortunately, not tougher than a collapsed ceiling,” Noah said. “I don’t want to find a replacement for her, because she’s great, but she’s also my only female major officer.”
