Up in Flames
A Firehouse Three Novel
Sidney Bristol
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Inked Press
Up in Flames, by Sidney Bristol
He wants her . . .
Fireman Hunter Shaw is a world-class screwup. He’s got a lifetime of experience tanking every good thing that’s come his way. But when a shy, curvy brunette wins him at a charity auction to benefit a local rescue shelter, he realizes she’s got as much a way with him as with the dogs. Can he convince her he’s on her side when she’s framed for arson?
She wants control . . .
Demolition specialist Jessie Durcell is in deep trouble when someone steals her explosives. Her brothers blame her, the cops suspect her, and the only person she can turn to is her sinfully sexy one-night stand. Can she trust the tattooed fireman? He’s wooed her pack of canine miscreants and her brothers hate him. He might just be the man she needs in her corner.
A deadly arsonist wants to send Dallas UP IN FLAMES.
Gina, thanks for all the laughs. <3
To love and be loved is to feel the sun from both sides.
―DAVID VISCOTT
Table of Contents
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
13.
14.
15.
16.
17.
18.
19.
Epilogue.
1.
Hunter Shaw was ready to be bought.
Or whatever the hell they were doing tonight.
He turned in time to catch sight of a cupcake tray headed indoors to the animal shelter’s party. Damn, the cupcake truck must already be serving up their stuff. If Hunter didn’t get his ass inside, he had no doubt every crumb would be gone. There was no way he was missing the opportunity to stuff his face with a few free cupcakes.
“Come on, Fido, let’s go get us a snack.” Hunter bent and scooped up the gangly pup. The shelter organizing the fundraiser had called the young dog something he couldn’t recall before handing him off to Hunter for the evening.
Fido looked sort of like a German Sheppard, if someone forgot the black fur. He was friendly, with kind eyes and a tail that didn’t stop wagging.
In the almost ten minutes Hunter had taken over his partner in crime for the evening, he’d learned two very important things about Fido—first, he was damn smart, and second, he’d stick his nose in whatever crotch was closest if not well supervised.
Fido was too big for a lap dog, but Hunter was used to hauling around things much larger than a gangly, adolescent dog. Besides, if Fido was in his arms, he couldn’t be on the ground getting leggy trouble under the ladies’ fancy dresses. It’d be Hunter’s luck that the dog would trip up some woman in heels and make a mess out of things.
Hunter was fairly new to Texas but he’d learned a couple things about this area of Dallas in the months he’d been here. It was eclectic, full of character and hell-bent on being a cultural center of the city. The Deep Ellum Arts Festival was much bigger than Hunter had realized when fliers started circulating a few weeks back. If he’d have known how dog-friendly the event was, he’d have made sure to bring his own lick monster, Elsa, out for a spin, but he’d been pretty busy helping out with the animal charity fund raiser.
He kept Fido close. There was still plenty for Fido to get into trouble with, between the guests, other shelter stars, and people’s personal animals they’d brought for a stroll around the area.
Hunter waved to his best friend and fellow Firehouse Three rookie, Drake Hammerfell. Drake seemed busy with his own pooch partner, so Hunter pressed on and slid into the warehouse-turned-party-space for the evening. Besides, Drake didn’t have near the sweet tooth that Hunter did.
The average Arts Festival attendee was a jeans-wearing, beer-sipping, rock enthusiast. Unless they were attending the local animal shelter’s gala thing. Whatever the hell that meant. Hunter was just glad he could wear his turn out pants, boots and a bit of coconut oil smeared on his chest to make him glisten—and every stray dog hair stick to his chest. His role was simple, parade around the event showing off a potential adoptee, mingle with the crowd and then later stand around while the ladies bid on a couple of the eligible bachelors in uniform. Hunter included. It wasn’t a bad gig. He’d shoveled crap and hauled boxes for other causes. This one at least promised him a pretty companion for a dinner. He was sure as hell tired of looking at the other guys’ ugly mugs. It was beyond time Hunter struck out and met a few people outside the firemen’s circle.
People milled around inside, sipping wine and beer from local establishments, and looking at some of the art featuring animals done by yet more local artists. Hunter’s nose led him straight to the cupcake tiers, which had the mini cakes piled ten high on fancy, lit-up displays. Each cupcake was decorated with miniature animal treats or puppy paws. What mattered most was that they were singularly delicious and came with companion, doggie-friendly options.
The shelter really had thought about everything.
He set the pup down but kept him on a short leash.
Hunter stuffed the first cupcake he could get his hand around, frosting first into his mouth. Hot damn. Tres leches. He loved Texas.
He finger-fed Fido two of the concoctions and eyed a third.
What exactly did they taste like?
Would anyone notice if he tried one of the dog treats?
“Oh my goodness, aren’t you cute?”
That breathy, feminine voice hit all the right notes, piquing his interest.
Hunter turned toward the owner, except she was already bent at the waist, her entire attention on Fido, who was in turn wiggling his whole body in enthusiastic agreement. The speaker’s long, curling dark hair was up in a ponytail. From this angle he could see bare shoulders and enough of her poofy, red- and white-checked dress to give him ideas. He leaned back to catch a glimpse of her face, but Fido was bouncing around in the way.
It wasn’t every day a pretty girl paid more attention to Hunter’s dog than him. Still, as a dog lover himself, it was more than a little cute watching the curvy brunette make cooing noises at the over-excitable puppy.
“Fido here is part German Shepherd, and he’s up for adoption tonight along with myself,” Hunter said by way of an introduction.
The woman glanced up, eyes a little round, lips parted.
Damn, but she was cute in a girl-next-door kind of way. Wide, expressive green eyes, freckles across her nose and cheeks, cheekbones he wanted to lick and the pretty, red- and white-checked dress was perfect for a little picnic fun. He wouldn’t mind getting better acquainted.
“He’s a Belgian Malinois, actually.” She stroked Fido’s head. “And wasn’t Everly calling him Sirius?”
“Uh…Maybe?” Well, shit. Everly sounded familiar, but he was totally blanking on the dog’s name and breed.
“Do you think I could take him outside? I really wanted to see more of his personality, but it’s so crowded and busy in here.”
Hunter couldn’t stop staring. Part of him should probably be annoyed he was being ignored in favor of a dog, but he kind of dug that. Most of the ladies he’d met that weren’t somehow attached to the fire station weren’t the kind to stick around for more than a few days, and though that was fine when it came down to basic human needs, Hunter had moved to Texas in the hopes of finding more. More what, he was still trying to figure out. Hopefully something he couldn’t screw up, but at thi
s stage in the game, he’d settle for first names.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Yeah. Sure. What did you say your name was, again? I’m Hunter.”
“I…didn’t introduce myself.” She shook her head. “Sorry, I’m better with animals than humans.”
“That’s okay. What should I call you? Be careful, I’m clearly not very creative if all I came up with for this guy is Fido.” Hunter snagged her hand in his, pleasantly surprised by the strength in her grip.
“Jesse. Sorry. Again.” She tugged her hand from his, hiding them behind the folds of her skirt. “Everly’s been telling me about Sirius all week.”
“Oh, really?” He couldn’t begrudge the pup going to a good home. “Come on, I bet most of the guys are cleared out.”
Good for him, because the crew on pup duty tonight wouldn’t hesitate to raze him a little about picking up a girl. He couldn’t deny his ability for attracting temporary women was high. When he’d been younger, he’d prided himself on the fact he didn’t have to worry about keeping a girl around. One night with him was all it took for them to wake up and realize he was a mistake waiting to happen. These days, it was old. Hell, the last girl had left him so fast he barely remembered her name. He needed a different type. A different something. And maybe different was staring him right in the face.
Nah, he couldn’t be that lucky.
Hunter rested his hand on the small of Jesse’s back, guiding her to the rear entry. Sure enough, the other guys and dogs had headed inside, giving them the run of the fenced-in rear lot. The chain-link fence was covered in banners, blocking out the fairgoers strolling the streets, taking in the booths and stages on the other side.
“Here you go, buddy.” Hunter set Sirius down on the ground, but kept a firm hand on the leash. “He’s really smart. I’m guessing you’ve had a dog or two?”
Sirius took the opportunity to test the bounds of his leash, sniffing the gravel for anything of interest. Maybe one of his pup friends, or just the stench of that ugly little thing Drake had been hauling around with him earlier. The thing was so hideous it was actually pretty cute, kind of like Drake.
“Hm?” Jesse tilted her head toward him, but her gaze remained on Sirius. “Oh, I train scent dogs.”
“You—what?” Hunter shook his head, re-orienting himself to the conversation. That was so out of bounds of normal for him. Most of the girls he talked to cut hair, worked in an office or were trying to find themselves between shots at the bar.
“Everly keeps an eye out for me whenever I need a new dog.” Jesse crouched on the gravel, her pretty dress dragged in the dirt, but her entire focus was on Sirius. She didn’t seem to care one bit about anything except the pup.
“Now I’m intrigued.” Hunter was pretty biased when it came to great jobs. His? Being a fireman? Rocked. There was no other adrenaline rush as fulfilling as doing what he did. But getting to roll around in the grass all day with a dog? That couldn’t be beat. “How do you get a gig training scent dogs? And how do you get into it?”
“You—I mean—hey!”
Sirius launched himself at Jesse, knocking her back on her bottom, skirt spread out, and licking her face.
Fuckity-fuck-fuck!
He’d been so focused on her that he hadn’t paid attention to the dog.
“Hey, now, that’s no way to make a good impression.” Hunter scooped the pup up and ruffed his fur. Come on, dude, she wants to like you.
“I should have seen that coming.” She chuckled and kicked her legs out in front of her.
“You okay?” Hunter offered her a hand up.
Her little hand wrapped around his and he braced her foot against his boot to keep her from slipping on the gravel. She wavered once she was upright again and he held on a moment longer, staring into her eyes. He had the strangest urge to hold on and not let go.
“I—what? Oh, yes. Totally fine.” She tugged her hand from his and dusted herself off with minimal attention. She spent more time making eyes at the dog than Hunter, but he’d already decided he liked that about her.
“Hunter! Get your sorry ass in here,” Drake bellowed from the doorway.
“Shit.” Hunter winced. Great timing. “That’s my cue. Hey, you going to be around later?”
“Uh…yeah.”
“Good.” He grinned.
Hunter set Sirius down and jogged inside, the pup keeping an easy pace with him. If she didn’t stick around, he at least knew who to ask about her. Tonight was looking more and more optimistic…
This was too easy.
Oscar Garza peered over his shoulder, waiting for one of the Durcells to pop out from between a car or a truck.
They had to know something was up. Oscar wasn’t that good of a liar. And yet, he had to be. For his kids. To make a difference.
He jangled the heavy keys, their weight foreign. Jesse never let them out of her sight. They were always clipped to her belt or in her hand. Oscar had assumed he would need to get into the demo locker the hard way. With a blowtorch or something. What kind of crazy turn of luck was it that tonight—when he needed this the most—getting his hands on Jesse’s keys was easy? She’d just left her purse at Oscar’s table. Like a damn invitation.
It was like the fates were aligning, telling him this was what he was supposed to do. His path. Terry had said as much that night at the bar. It’d been kismet, or whatever he was spouting off about all the time. Everything Terry said was right on the money. The system was broken. It couldn’t be fixed from the inside. Hard-working guys like them understood that sometimes, in order to do a job the right way, you had to tear it all down and start over. With a clean slate.
Terry knew other people who shared their ideas, and together, they were working toward something. They had a plan, now. And all Oscar had to do was get the explosives. After that, he’d hand the next phase off to someone else and sit back to watch sweet justice in action.
Oscar ducked between the big, white truck and a SUV. He clicked the fob and held his breath.
But nothing happened.
No alarms.
No Durcells.
This was working.
Oscar pulled the driver’s side door open and climbed in. He jammed the stolen keys in the ignition and adjusted the seat. Jesse was tiny. Damn, but he almost wished this weren’t so easy. She wasn’t a bad person, but she was part of the problem. Sometimes good people had to go down for change to happen. He shifted the truck into reverse.
He hit the road, heading for the Durcell Construction headquarters, and pulled out his phone. He dialed the number from memory.
“What?” the man on the other end of the line asked. The one downside about this plan was working with this guy. Benjamin Salazar. The spitting image of Oscar’s co-worker, Nicholas Salazar. But, Terry had insisted that for Oscar’s safety he would need someone to watch his back. It was too dangerous for Terry to do it, but no one would think much if Oscar was seen around Benjamin.
“Salazar, I’ve got the keys.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. Can you meet me at the site? We’ve got to cut the power to the cameras.”
In time, everyone would know about what Oscar was doing, but in order for their plans to go down as needed, there couldn’t be any evidence. No warning of what they were going to do.
They were going to change the world.
Jesse squeezed inside the warehouse, scanning the audience for Everly.
Where the heck was her friend? And why hadn’t her best friend warned her about hot n’ hunky? Holy something else—she was pretty sure she hadn’t been able to string together more than a single sentence without looking like a complete idiot. She didn’t think she’d made a fool of herself any worse than normal. It was like whenever she took off her hard hat and boots, she forgot how to speak to the opposite sex. Maybe that was the key. She just needed to stay in the construction uniform all the time. Everly would have loved Jesse showing up like that. Not at all.
Something was up with Everly, and it wasn’t just this out of the norm, over-the-top fundraiser they were doing. Later Jesse would have to corner her best friend and make Everly give up the goods. What exactly was going on? And why wasn’t Everly telling her about it?
A va-va-voom woman wearing sequins and glittering jewelry took the stage. She even had a rhinestone microphone to go with her outfit. Talk about glitz and glam. This was not Jesse’s crowd at all, but she was here to support Everly. Not ogle abs-a-licious back there.
Right!
The bachelor auction.
Everly had been rather mortified when she’d told Jesse about the latest fundraising idea the new volunteer had cooked up. Clearly, Everly had skimped on the details. She’d left out important facts like buying a bachelor. What the ever-loving hell did that mean? And what was a girl like her supposed to do with one they bought? These were very important details Jesse needed to know, since she’d come with a plan and an open bank account.
Jesse swallowed.
The line of oiled up, pooch-escorting firemen took the stage, each wearing a number and a smile. Va-va-voom was talking, but Jesse couldn’t breathe.
Hunter—that was his name, wasn’t it?
She managed to swallow.
Why was it so damn hot in here? Was it her dress? It was kind of tight.
The stage lights should have blinded him. He shouldn’t be able to see her. And yet there he was, staring over the heads of the people in front of her, right back at her. It was like he had a homing beacon attached to him.
Had those tattoos hurt? Plenty of the guys she worked with had them, but Jesse didn’t make a habit of getting too friendly with the employees. She’d learned the hard way how easy it was for a woman in her position to fall from grace. She swallowed again and directed her gaze toward Sirius. The reason she’d put on a dress in the first place and showed up tonight.
Life had finally been kind to Jesse. After a rough start, she and her brothers were doing all right for themselves. And Everly never let Jesse pitch in when she needed a buck, even though Jesse offered plenty of times to help out, especially when things were tight or the rescue was in need. Everly never accepted the help, though she had no qualms about putting Jesse to work in the kennels. As much as Jesse loved the hard-working attitude, it also made her want to strangle the woman.
Up in Flames (Firehouse Three Book 1) Page 1