Love Unleashed

by Diane Kelly

  He stepped up to the children and walked along the edge of the crowd as if looking for a place to hide the gunpowder. He continued on, drawing closer and closer, my heart rate increasing with each step he took in my direction. Finally, Louis stepped right in front of me. He stopped walking and turned to face me, mere inches separating us. Though there were hundreds of children and a dozen teachers in the room, all with their eyes on us, it felt as if we were the only two people on the planet. I was acutely aware of my quick, shallow breathing, of the rapid rise and fall of my chest. I willed my heart and lungs to slow down lest they give me away.

  His eyes flashed and a roguish grin played about his lips. “I’m going to give it to you.”

  Were those words full of innuendo or what? Not trusting myself to speak—I was afraid a squeak would come out if I opened my mouth—I nodded and held out my palm. He reached out and dropped the packet into my hand. Though he didn’t touch me, he was close enough for me to feel his warm breath feather over my neck as he looked down. I was afraid to look up at him, afraid my face would reveal my feelings, so I simply closed my fingers around the packet and stared at the shiny wood floor until I saw his black boots back away.

  When I looked up, he said, “Give the dog a challenge. Sit in the middle of your class.”

  I did as he’d told me, carefully picking my way through my students and taking a seat on the floor in the middle of them where I’d be less conspicuous.

  Once I was settled, Louie returned to the front of the gym and called to Frankie, who was waiting at the gym doors, “Let ’em in!”

  Frankie pushed the doors open and Seth and Blast came back inside. She gestured to the crowd. “Show these kids what you two can do.”

  Seth reached down, unclipped the leash from his dog, and issued an order. The Lab raised his nose and padded forward, sniffing the air. He put his nose to the floor briefly as he trotted along, but then lifted it again. As he drew near, the dog took a few steps into the crowd of giggling children, wriggling his way through them.

  “He sniffed me!” a little girl cried in glee.

  “His nose is wet!” said another.

  The dog eased through the crowd of kids, coming closer and closer. When he was only a few feet away he raised his head in the air, twitched his nostrils twice, and eyed me. He stepped up, sniffed at the closed hand I held on my knee, and sat down, waiting for his handler.

  Rutledge picked his way through the crowd toward us. “Good job, boy!”

  After he gave the dog a nice scratch, I returned the gunpowder to him.

  The fire-safety lesson and explosive-detection demonstrations complete, Harrison gave the kids a quick lesson in emergency medicine. He pulled his stethoscope out of his bag, helped a little boy put the earpieces into his ears, and positioned the chest piece over his heart. “Do you hear a noise going ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump? That’s your heart.”

  “It’s loud!” the boy said.

  When Harrison wrapped up his part, Louie took the lead again, looking out over the crowd. “Do you have any questions for us?”

  Several students raised their hands, mostly asking about the dog. Where he slept. What he ate. Did he like to play ball?

  Bethany’s hand shot up. When Louie pointed to her, she asked, “Is it hard to see out of the air mask?”

  “Yes, it is,” Louie said. “It can be very difficult to see in a smoky building. On TV and in movies they show the fire lighting up a room. But that’s not real. It’s actually very dark inside a burning building. The rooms are full of smoke.”

  Lexi, one of the single teachers, raised her hand. Lexi was a redhead with generous curves and heavily made-up eyes. A catty smile crossed her face when Lieutenant DeLuca acknowledged her. “I can tell you work out,” she purred. “How much can you bench press?”

  “On a good day? Around three hundred and fifty,” Louie replied matter-of-factly, seemingly oblivious to her curves and flattery.

  “Wow!” she gushed. “That’s a lot.”

  Standing next to Lexi was Nora, a tall, thin blonde just two years out of college. She raised a hand tipped with sparkling pink nails. When Louie acknowledged her, she blinked her big blue eyes and said, “What traits are important in being a good fireman?”

  It was a good question, one that would provide useful information to any of the children who might think firefighting could be the job for them someday. I wish I’d thought to ask that.

  “Firefighters have to be dedicated and responsible,” Louie replied. “There are a lot of people counting on us, not just the victims but our fellow firefighters as well. We have to be driven both mentally and physically, and we have to be able to work as part of a team.”

  A little boy raised a tentative hand. When Louie pointed to him, the boy asked, “How did you get to be so brave?”

  “Being brave doesn’t mean you don’t get scared,” Louie replied. “It just means you do what needs to be done even when you are scared. Every time we enter a burning building, we worry we might not come back out again. We fear that the smoke will make it hard for us to breathe, or that a roof or wall might cave in and trap us inside. We’re afraid we might miss a victim somewhere, or be unable to get to a victim who needs our help. We get scared a lot on our jobs. But we are trained to think calmly and to follow rules that keep us as safe as possible.”

  Though he could have easily made himself and his fellow first responders sound fearless and heroic, Louie had given an honest, humble answer. The guy had every reason to be full of himself, yet he wasn’t. I admired that.

  He looked around but saw no more raised hands. He turned to look at me. “Before the kids go outside to the trucks, we’d like them to practice both the fall and crawl and the stop, drop, and roll. Does your class want to go first, Miss Bellingham?”

  My students’ cries of delight answered the question for me. I motioned for them to stand. “Y’all line up behind me.” Once we had a line formed, I walked my class over to the mat.

  Louie stepped into place only a couple feet away. A smile played about his kissable lips. “Start with a fall and crawl, then the stop, drop, and roll. I want to check out your technique.”

  Check out my technique? Woot! There was little doubt the guy was flirting with me now. Maybe I should get back in the game after all, jump back in the pool, see if firefighter Louie DeLuca could further stoke my flames.

  I summoned my meager acting skills, waving a hand in front of my face. “I can’t breathe! There’s so much smoke!”

  “Fall!” Louie ordered.

  I fell.

  “Now crawl!” he barked.

  I crawled forward several feet, wondering all the while if he was checking out my ass. Was it wrong of me to hope he was?

  He stepped forward to walk alongside me. “Good job, Miss Bellingham.”

  When I stopped crawling, he held out a hand to help me up. Again, I took it. Again, I fought the urge to rub it on my cheek. Scott’s hands had been an office worker’s hands, smooth and soft. Nothing like these masculine hands.

  Once I was on my feet, Louie said, “Now let’s see your stop, drop, and roll.”

  “Oh, no!” I cried, grabbing the hem of my shirt and looking down at myself. “My clothes are on fire!”

  While I’d only been pretending an instant before, something came over me then, a dark memory enclosing me like a thick shroud of smoke, stealing my breath. When I gazed down now I didn’t see my ruffled blouse. Instead, I saw something else. Something terrifying. Something real, or at least that had been real, all those years ago. The hem of my pink flannel pajama top was trimmed in flames, the smiling white sheep printed on the fabric locked in place, unable to run. Only I hadn’t been locked in place. I’d done just the thing a person shouldn’t do when their clothes caught fire.

  I had run.

  Chapter Six: Frozen with Fear

  Louie

  The curvy redhead could have been featured in a lingerie ad and the long-legged blonde would have be
en right at home strutting down a runway. But instead of eyeing them, I’d been sneaking glances at the more subtly attractive Miss Bellingham during the entire presentation. She had an aura of soft sweetness about her. Those light brown curls looked fun and wild, too. Once again, it had taken all of my strength not to reach out and tug on one of them when I’d handed her the gunpowder packet.

  Still, her looks alone wouldn’t be enough to hold my interest. I’d dated enough to know that appearance alone didn’t count for much in the long run. I was ready for a woman who cared about more than who designed her purse or shoes and the latest trendy restaurants or nightclubs. I was ready for a woman who didn’t think everything should be about her, who actually cared about others, who wanted to make a positive difference in the world. I wanted a woman who’d make not only a good wife but also a good mother. You know, marriage material. The guys at the station would give me shit if they knew, but truth be told I was ready to settle down. Once I met the right woman, of course. Unfortunately, that was easier said than done.

  Miss Bellingham stood so close to me now I could breathe her scent. Holy crap, she smells like vanilla. Did that mean she was sweet, too? Like my kindergarten teacher all those years ago? It probably did. Hell, I’d bet her kisses tasted like cotton candy. What I wouldn’t give to find out.

  She’d played her part like a pro during the fall and crawl practice, and she was doing the same now that we’d moved on to the stop, drop, and roll. She held out the hem of her shirt as she walked forward and peered down at it.

  “Stop!” I ordered her.

  She stopped. It took everything in me not to order her to Turn around and kiss me! Fortunately, my self control complied.

  “Drop!” I ordered.

  But she didn’t move. One look at the expression on her face told me that Miss Bellingham was no longer here with me, in this gym. I’d seen that same look of absolute terror in the eyes of victims I’d pulled from burning buildings. Jessica had gone somewhere else, to another time and place.

  And that place was hell.

  Chapter Seven: Escape Artist

  Jessica

  Louie called from another time and another place, somewhere in the here and now. But my mind was stuck there and then, in a place in time in the past.

  “Drop!” he called.

  But I couldn’t move. Unlike back then, when I’d taken off running, I was unable to move a muscle.

  “Drop!” he called again, a hint of question in his voice.

  When I still didn’t move, he stepped over and gently took my arm, his warm touch bringing me back to reality. “You okay, Miss Bellingham?” he asked softly. “Need a hand?”

  I shook my head, clearing it of the daytime nightmare, but couldn’t quite bring myself to look at him. “I’m fine. Sorry. I just zoned out for a moment. Not enough coffee this morning, I guess.” I forced a laugh. “Can I try again?”

  “Sure.” He let go and stepped back. “Stop!” he shouted.

  I stopped.

  “Drop!”

  I dropped to the mat and lay flat on my belly.

  “Roll!”

  I rolled over and over, back and forth, doing what I should have done—what I wished I’d done—all those years ago. Needless to say, the event had left me emotionally scarred. Physically, too. Hence my hesitation to get back in the dating game. Was I daring enough to bare my soul and my skin again after being burned the last time? I wasn’t sure.

  Louie clapped his hands. “Great job, Miss Bellingham! Now you can roll all the way to the end of the mat for practice.”

  I rolled over dozens of times until I reached the far end of the gym. Each of the students in my class did the same, stopping, dropping, and rolling their way across the line of mats, most of them giggling all the way. If they only knew. Fire is no laughing matter.

  Louie helped Bethany out of her wheelchair and onto the mat before rolling her chair to the end where I stood, cheering the kids on. “Good job, Bethany! Way to go, Marcos! You’re doing great, Miranda!”

  When Bethany rolled up to us, Louie scooped her up in his arms and placed the giggling girl back into her chair. “Nice job!”

  Once all of the students in my class had completed their turns, I moved to the door of the gym, giving each of them a chance to pet Blast on the way out the door. The easygoing dog wagged his tail continuously in friendly appreciation of their pats and rubs.

  When Bethany rolled up and leaned over to give the dog a hug, he whipped out his tongue and licked her cheek. She squealed in delight. “He kissed me!” She looked up at his handler. “Your dog kissed me!”

  Seth smiled. “That means he likes you.”

  “I like him, too,” she said. “But I’m not going to lick him back!”

  We adults shared a laugh. If I was lucky enough to have a little girl of my own one day, I hoped she’d be as smart and funny as Bethany.

  When the last of my students had taken his turn petting the dog, my class continued down the hall to the front doors and exited the school. I led my class down the sidewalk and around the corner to the fire trucks, reminding them we’d have to wait patiently until all of the classes had completed their practice on the mats.

  Though it was only five minutes until Louie DeLuca and the other firefighters came outside to the trucks, it seemed like an eternity. I didn’t even know the guy, yet I couldn’t seem to get enough of him. What had come over me? I wasn’t the type of woman who went gaga over a nice pair of biceps and chocolate brown eyes. Okay, actually, I was. We all are, right? But while I could appreciate firm muscles and gorgeous eyes as much as the next girl, it took more than that to hold my interest. After all, it wasn’t difficult to be good-looking. It just took good genes. I wanted a man who was willing to make sacrifices for others, who didn’t think he was all that and thought women should fall at his feet. Okay, so Louie DeLuca had ordered me to fall at his feet and I’d happily complied, but that was different. He’d been drilling me in fire safety. But while he certainly seemed confident, I detected none of the cockiness so common among good-looking men, and his concern for the children seemed genuine. Louie would be quite a catch. Chances were a guy like him would already have a girlfriend, though. Best not to get my hopes up, right?

  When the firefighters emerged from the building, Lexi and Nora were walking alongside them, engaged in conversation with Louie and Seth, their classes trailing behind. Both of the women laughed at something Louie said, with Lexi adding in a sexy hair toss, her auburn waves shimmering in the morning sunlight. A pang of envy clenched my gut. Women like her have it so easy when it comes to men. I was no slouch, but I also wasn’t some knockout bombshell. I was cute rather than gorgeous. Cute had to work a little harder.

  When Louie reached the ladder truck, he hopped up onto the tailgate, using the elevated bumper as an improvised stage. “This big rig here is what we call a ladder truck. Can you all guess why?”

  The kids shouted out various responses, all having to do with the ladder on top of the truck.

  “You got it.” He pointed up to the large ladder lying folded atop the vehicle. “We raise the ladder when we go to a fire in a tall building. Sometimes people can’t come down the stairs because there’s fire in the stairwells.” He went on to tell the kids never to use an elevator if the building they were in was on fire. “Always use the stairs, okay?”

  The children murmured their assent.

  “When the ladder can extend straight up,” he said, “it can go seven stories high. But sometimes the ladder can’t go straight up because the firefighters can’t park the truck right next to the building. There might be cars or trees in the way. When you stay in a hotel, it’s safest to stay on one of the lower floors. Tell your parents to always ask for a room on a lower floor.”

  What do you know? Even I had learned something new today.

  “Who wants to see Firefighter Frankie climb the ladder?” he asked.

  While the kids cheered, Frankie put her hands on her hips i
n mock indignation. When the crowd settled down, she turned to them and hiked a thumb at Louie. “He makes me climb the ladder because he’s a chicken.” She bent her arms like bird wings, flapped them, and squawked. “Bawk-bawk!”

  As the kids laughed, Louie hopped down from the tailgate and walked to the cab to activate the ladder. He opened the door and climbed inside. A few seconds later, the upper section of the ladder began to rise. When the ladder had fully extended, he showed how it could swivel and bend in all directions as needed.

  Standing next to me, Patricia let out a low whistle. “That man has some impressive equipment and he sure knows how to work it.”

  I put a hand over my mouth to stifle my laugh. Patricia was being absolutely inappropriate, but she was also a total hoot. I’d miss her when she retired.

  Lieutenant Rutledge stepped into place near the truck to serve as a spotter. He gave Louie a thumb’s up, letting him know Frankie was ready to begin her demonstration.

  As Frankie ascended the truck, she took over the lesson. “Ladder work is very dangerous. One wrong move and a firefighter can fall. We also sometimes carry people who are hurt or unconscious down the ladder. Firefighters have to be very strong and well trained to do this type of work.” With that, she began her climb. “Up I go!”

  She climbed until she reached the top then looked down and waved. “Hello, down there!”

  We all waved in return.

  She climbed back down the ladder and descended the truck. As Louie lowered the ladder back into place, the black-and-white creature scampered into the parking lot. It was a puppy, just like I’d thought. Where it had been hiding all this time was anyone’s guess. Up close like this, I could tell it was a Dalmatian, a traditional fire dog. I could also tell it was female. Her neck bore no collar. Either she’d somehow gotten out of it or she’d never been given one.

  “Look, Miss Bellingham!” Bethany cried, pointing. “A puppy!”

  The pup ran up to Blast, its tail wagging so fast it was nothing more than a blur. Yip! Yip-yip!