Up in Flames (Firehouse Three Book 1)

by Sidney Bristol

  4.

  Hunter slid off the mattress, not that Jesse had left him much of it. The woman could hog a bed better than he could, and he had at least six inches and fifty pounds on her. He snagged a pair of shorts out of his laundry basket and slipped them on.

  Thankfully, he’d heard the buzz of his phone alarm from the kitchen, but Jesse hadn’t.

  He padded out of the bedroom, snagged his phone off the counter on his way out the door and shot off a quick text to his neighbor who was kind enough to keep Elsa a couple times a week.

  By the time he got down the hall, Laura had the door open, her fluffy Pomeranians in hand.

  “Morning. I hope Elsa didn’t wake you guys up.” Hunter rubbed the side of his face.

  “She’s actually still in bed.” Laura grinned.

  “Elsa loves your wife. And you guys. Hey there, Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum.” He wiggled his fingers at the balls of fluff with legs. Elsa was in love with the Pomeranians, but the tiny dogs hated Hunter. Probably because he was a dude.

  “Oh, I feel a cold nose.” Laura danced sideways.

  A blue pit bull loped the two strides to Hunter, tail swishing back and forth.

  “Morning, Elsa.” Hunter dropped to a knee, giving Elsa a scratch.

  “You better go before Cranky sticks her head out here and sees her without a muzzle.” Laura rolled her eyes and nodded at the door across the hall.

  “We’re gone. Thanks again, Laura.” Hunter stood, slapping his thigh, and jogged down to his door, Elsa at his side. They ducked into his apartment not a second too soon. The neighbor dubbed Cranky was gifted with a squeaky front door, an excellent warning to get thee inside fast.

  Hunter closed and locked his apartment, cringing and listening for the sound of Cranky’s voice. By the time he turned around, Elsa was gone…

  “Shit.”

  He dove toward the hall at the same moment a female yelp broke the quiet.

  Too late!

  Elsa sprawled across the middle of the bed, not the least bit concerned about being on top of a stranger. Jesse peered at the pit bull, her hands already stroking the dog.

  “Hello, precious.” Jesse’s voice was sleepy and amused.

  “Sorry, I should have closed the bedroom door before I got her.” Hunter crossed to the bed and smacked Elsa’s haunches. “That’s rude, Elsa. At least introduce yourself first?”

  Elsa grunted and wiggled her way up the bed, tongue licking the air in Jesse’s direction.

  “She’s adorable.” She grinned and shifted, making room for both man and dog.

  “And she knows it.” Hunter flipped Elsa’s floppy ear forward.

  “Where was she?”

  “My neighbor keeps her most days I’m out. Elsa is in love with her ankle biters.”

  “You named your dog Elsa?”

  “I figured if people were going to get a bug up their ass about her being a pit bull, I’d give her a cute name.”

  “Does that work?”

  “If people let me tell them what her name is? Yeah. Some people don’t care one way or another, but that’s their problem.”

  “Good to know. Elsa, can I go pee before you squish my bladder again?”

  “Shit. Come on, Elsa, food time, you’re probably starving.” Hunter pushed up and slapped his thigh. At the word food Elsa dove off the bed, nearly taking Hunter’s legs out from under him in the rush to her bowl.

  Jesse’s laughter followed him all the way into the kitchen.

  It took him a moment to wrestle the food container down.

  “Elsa?” He peered around the living room for his dog. She was noticeably absent, not head butting his legs or anything.

  Shit.

  She was probably already enamored with Jesse. No one would ever call Elsa a guard dog.

  “Elsa, leave—what do you have there?” Hunter squatted and held out his hands as she trotted toward him with some sort of prize between her jaws.

  Elsa dragged what looked like clothing of some kind out of the closet that connected to the bathroom and hallway.

  The door banged open and a rumpled Jesse stepped out. Eyes wide.

  He tugged the material out of Elsa’s hands and held up the white…spandex….shorts?

  “Oh my God.” Jesse’s face, her chest, hell, even her arms looked red.

  “Are these yours?” Hunter couldn’t remember peeling her out of shorts, but then again he’d been focused on one goal.

  “Oh my God.” She buried her face in her hands. Her answering “Yes” was mumbled and almost beyond understanding.

  “Didn’t want to show me your sexy shorts?” He hooked his fingers in the waistband and snapped them at Jesse, but she wouldn’t look at him.

  “Shut up.” The corners of her mouth quirked up.

  “What? Think they’d look cute on me?” Hunter held them to his hips.

  “I’m leaving.”

  “It’s hard to see where you’re going with your hands over your eyes.”

  “I don’t like you.”

  Hunter had to laugh at that one. He’d call her a liar, but that wouldn’t be very nice. He folded the shorts and laid them on the bar. By the time he made it around the counter to Jesse, she was a pretty, tomato red. Elsa stood at her feet, staring up at the oddly colored human, head tilted sideways.

  “Come on, have some coffee. Everything’s better with coffee.” He wrapped his arms around Jesse. Shorts or no shorts, they didn’t bother him one bit. He’d have still taken them off her last night. “Maybe later you can model your sexy shorts for me?”

  She smacked his shoulder and all he could do was laugh.

  In short order, Elsa got her breakfast, Hunter and Jesse got coffee with granola bars, since his pantry was pretty much empty, and everyone got a spot on the sofa. Though Elsa’s spot was more of a sprawl across everyone else.

  “When am I taking you out for real?” Hunter slid one hand up Jesse’s knee. She had her legs curled under her and the skirt wasn’t quite cooperating. There was just too much of it. It was everywhere.

  Elsa gave him the stink eye, as she’d already claimed Jesse’s thigh for her pillow.

  “We went out. Last night.” Jesse scratched Elsa’s head, which seemed enough to appease the monster.

  “That does not count.” He glared at Jesse. Was it him? Was she only interested in the sex? She wouldn’t be the first woman whose goal began and ended in bed, but this time it bugged him.

  “Sure it does.”

  “Are you trying to say I’m just good for a lay and that’s it?”

  “What?” Jesse sputtered and coughed up coffee. “No!”

  Elsa picked her head up and this time she really did glare at him. The traitor.

  Jesse put the coffee down, wrapped her hands around Elsa’s head and stared at the carpet, her fingers massaging the sensitive pup.

  “I…am not good at this,” she said finally.

  “What? Turning a guy down? Telling a guy he’s only good for a fuck?”

  Jesse winced at the last sentence.

  “That is not what I’m saying. Shit.” She rubbed her face.

  This time he watched the blush creep up her chest.

  “I’m really uncomfortable with the auction thing. I—should have gone home. I did not mean…that’s not…I mean…fuck.” Jesse massaged her temples.

  Hunter wanted to shrug it off, let her off the hook—and he didn’t. Yeah, he wasn’t a saint, but he was also human. Jesse…was more like him. She was fun. Elsa was half in love with her. And Jesse fascinated him. Which was probably why he was pissed off in the first place. If she were just a ditz with tits, he wouldn’t be sorry to see her go. But she wasn’t. He dug her. And she wanted to get rid of him.

  “You’re a—”

  “Really great guy. Awesome.” He rolled his eyes, feeling more like a petulant teenager getting the brush off.

  “Will you stop putting words in my mouth?” Jesse’s glare was a finely-honed weapon aimed directly at
him.

  Hunter held up his hands and Elsa took that opportunity to slide further into Jesse’s lap, clearly showing which side of the argument she was on.

  The traitor.

  “I don’t want to go out with someone because they’re obligated to take me out.” Jesse turned her upper body toward him, glare still firmly in place.

  “You thought I was obligated to fuck you?”

  “No!”

  “Then what?”

  “Like I fucking know. You seem to want to be a dick, so be a dick on your own.” Jesse tried and failed to wiggle out from under Elsa.

  Shit. He was being an ass.

  “Jesse?” He reached across and grabbed her hand. “You’re right, I’m being a dick.”

  Her hand lay cold and lifeless in his, her glare, on the other hand, was hot and full of venom.

  “I met this cool girl who keeps turning me down, but she doesn’t turn down the offer to come to my place.” He shrugged.

  “Crap.” The heat went out of her gaze, her shoulders slumped and her fingers curled around his. “That wasn’t—I didn’t mean—”

  “To buy me and fuck me?”

  “Hunter!” She tried to tug her hand out of his, but he wasn’t letting her go. “Will you stop saying that?”

  “What? That you bought me and fucked me?”

  “I’m pretty sure we were equal parts fucking.”

  “Okay, so you liked me enough to fuck me back—”

  “You are impossible.”

  “—but you don’t want me to take you out because now you think I’m obligated to take you out?”

  “Yes. And no. Shit.”

  “Yes and no? You’re going to have to be a little clearer.”

  “I just…I suck at this stuff. Relationships. Guys. All of it. If we go out it’s going to be awful. I’m awkward. I say the wrong thing. I don’t own nice clothes. Why are you laughing at me?”

  “Actually, I’m fine with you sucking, if that’s what you’re worried about.” He grinned.

  “You are impossible. This argument is never going to stop, is it?”

  “Nope. But it’s gotta go on pause. I think Elsa’s about to do the pee-pee dance. Shall we walk and argue about this a bit more?” Hunter stood and Elsa waddled off the sofa.

  “I’m not even sure I like you anymore.” She accepted his assistance off the cushions and to her feet.

  “You liked me enough—”

  “To fuck you back, yeah, as you keep reminding me.” She smoothed her skirt into place. Except for a few wrinkles that were falling out of the fabric, she looked as good as she did last night. A fact his dick was well aware of.

  “What are you doing tonight? I don’t go back on shift until tomorrow.”

  She studied him out of the corner of her eye for a moment. “No plans for the day, except picking up Sirius.”

  “Okay, then it’s settled. We’ll have a date-date tonight. No fucking required. Now we can argue about who is taking who out. Elsa, are you doing the pee-pee dance?”

  “I have never seen a dog do that before…”

  Hunter scrambled across the apartment, snagging the building-mandated muzzle, harness and leash before Elsa lost it on the floor. She knew the routine by now and did her part by stepping into the straps and holding still for him to buckle her in.

  “Shall we argue?” He held the door open and bowed Jesse out, but he didn’t miss the way she rolled her eyes at him.

  Did she realize she wasn’t shy around him anymore?

  5.

  Jesse leaned against the door, her face turned toward the open window. She could hear Elsa’s cheeks flapping in the breeze, which was an oddly comforting sound.

  The man was a sucker for his dog. She wasn’t about to tell him it was adorable how he doted on the pit bull. He might think she was flirting with him again.

  Was she?

  She hadn’t yet decided what they were doing. Last night she’d thought they’d scratch an itch and that would be it. That he wouldn’t really want to go out with her. Now…she wasn’t so certain. One thing was for sure, her brothers could never meet Hunter. They wouldn’t understand or even give him the time of day. Still, it left her at odds with what to call…this.

  Were they fucking, as Hunter liked to point out? Or was this something else? After they had this mandatory date out of the way—then what?

  Relationships were murky, strange things she avoided on principle. Mostly because the men she met were in some way connected to work. She’d made the mistake—once—of dating a contractor back before she came home. She’d gone from holding her own, to being the coffee bitch, all because the way the guys perceived her shifted. But Hunter? He was a fireman. He had nothing to do with her world. And he was so out of her league.

  “Where’d you park at?” He slowed as they crossed the train tracks into the area referred to as Deep Ellum.

  “Under the highway, at the very back of the lot. I have a big pick-up for work and hauling the dogs around, so I always end up at the back.” She pointed him into the lot, squinting past the cars.

  That was weird.

  She could have sworn she’d parked right next to that bridge support.

  “My truck’s down here a bit.” She peered ahead of them, frowning at the empty spaces.

  “Are you sure?”

  “I could have sworn it was on this row.” Jesse pulled out the tiny little purse she’d crammed her stuff into and poked around in it. “Shit. Shit. Shit. Fuck!”

  No. No. No!

  “Easy there. What’s wrong?” Hunter pulled over and shifted into park.

  This couldn’t be real.

  She dumped the purse’s contents into her lap.

  Lip gloss.

  Her debit card.

  A few folded bills.

  Her dead cell phone.

  A couple business cards people had foisted on her last night.

  The wrapper to the ice cream she’d had waiting for the auction.

  “My keys. They’re gone.” She stared straight ahead, her body going cold.

  “It’s okay—”

  “No,” she snapped, turning to face him. He didn’t get it. This was so very bad. “It’s not okay. Those are my keys.”

  “And I’m sure—”

  “Hunter. My keys. My work keys.” She enunciated each word with force. “The keys to my demo locker were on that ring. My C4. All of my explosives.”

  His jaw dropped and, unless she was mistaken, his skin went a few shades whiter.

  The amount of explosives she kept on hand could level a building. Because that’s what she was paid to do. And she’d stocked up for the hotel gig in a few days.

  “Oh, fuck. Okay, we’ll find them.” He pulled out his phone.

  “This is bad, Hunter.”

  “I’ve got a detective friend.” Hunter reached across and wrapped his hands around hers, but her fingers had gone numb.

  The consequences were staggering.

  The lives… The damage… If anything happened, it would be on her head.

  Benjamin Salazar took a slow drag on his cigarette and squinted at the early morning light. He’d really prefer to be in bed right now, but there was work to be done.

  Oscar would get suspicious if he wasn’t back soon.

  The chump thought his part of this was over. Ben almost felt sorry for him. Except they needed a fall guy and Oscar was so blind he couldn’t see the truth.

  No wonder his wife had left him for another man.

  Fucking Oscar.

  An older white pick-up truck pulled up to the curb.

  About fucking time.

  Ben tossed his cigarette into the weeds and jogged toward the truck, getting in on the passenger side.

  “How’d it go?” Terry asked.

  “Good. What next?” Hopefully, this proved Ben’s commitment to the rest of the group.

  The blowhards they met up with in bars weren’t part of the real organization. They were the talkers, onl
y the truly committed got past Terry into the heart of the cause. That was where Ben wanted to be. On the inside. No more of this working for someone else bullshit. He wanted to make people pay for the injustice meted out to him and his family. All his life, he’d watched people just like him get pissed on by the system. No more.

  “We need to make sure Oscar knows what he’s doing.” Terry handed a package across the cab.

  “What’s this?” Ben opened the brown paper bag and frowned inside.

  “It’s a little motivation if Oscar doesn’t fall in line.”

  Ben held the…it looked like some sort of bracelet. Or a handcuff without the chain.

  “How’s it work?” Ben examined the tape over one end, sliding his thumb over the edges.

  “Careful. It’s an explosive device.”

  “Fuck, man.” Ben dropped the bracelet into his lap.

  “We need Oscar to create a distraction.” Terry handed a slip of paper across with a time and address scrawled on it. “Tell him you’re getting rid of the evidence, that we need proof of concept.”

  “Cool, and then? Do I get to have a face to face with your boss?”

  “Soon, Ben.” Terry smiled.

  Ben’s phone vibrated. Oscar calling him. Again.

  He couldn’t wait until he was done babysitting this guy. If Ben played his cards right, he could use his leverage on Terry to work his way up in the scheme of things. Because Ben was going to call the shots. He was tired of always being told what to do. But first, he had to see to Oscar.

  Hunter hung up with Detective Arthur Long, the sense of foreboding knotting his stomach. The detective needed to be on two phones at once. Now, all they could do was wait until Arthur found something, or someone came forward with information on Jesse’s truck. A normal car theft wouldn’t get this kind of attention, but because of the implications of what someone could do with Jesse’s keys, it was an all-hands-on-deck kind of situation.

  “He’s on it. It’ll take him some time, but there are a lot of cameras. Chances are, Arthur will have the thief on tape.” Hunter reached across and wrapped his hands around Jesse’s. Her fingers were icy cold.

  She glanced at him and nodded. He wanted to lift the stress away. Make it better somehow.

  “Is there something we can do? Any back up keys?” he asked.