by Jen Talty
Text copyright ©2017 by the Author.
This work was made possible by a special license through the Kindle Worlds publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by Paige Tyler. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original Dallas Fire & Rescue remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Paige Tyler, or their affiliates or licensors.
For more information on Kindle Worlds: http://www.amazon.com/kindleworlds
Table of Contents
Stealing His Fire
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Epilogue
Books by Jen Talty
About the Author
Stealing His Fire
A Dallas Fire & Rescue Kindle World Novella
book 1 in the FRIST RESPONDER S series
JEN TALTY
Dedication
To all the men and women firefighters, paramedics, and other first responders who risk their lives every day to protect others.
Acknowledgments
Writing a book can be a lonely project. I sit in my office or on my back porch or in a café with noise cancelling headphones and try to create heroes and heroines and their love stories that readers can relate to. Casey Hagen, a bestselling author, and my ‘critique partner’ makes the process of writing humorous and well, her critiques are damn entertaining. Without her, this book would have never been written.
Research is often the best part of writing and I am grateful to the firefighters who were gracious enough to answer my questions.
Sign up for Jen’s Newsletter ( http://eepurl.com/crLz6r) where she often gives away free books before publication.
Join Jen’s private Facebook group ( https://www.facebook.com/groups/191706547909047/) where she posts exclusive excerpts and discuss all things murder and love!
Chapter 1
ROWEN CLARK PULLED his fire-engine-red pickup truck into his driveway, squinting as the morning sun glared over the horizon. Dallas summers seemed to be getting hotter and hotter, not that he knew any different. He’d lived in Dallas his entire life. Everyone in his family was from the area, and other than a couple of cousins, everyone still lived in Dallas.
Slamming the gear shift into park, he glanced at his new neighbor as she waltzed from her teal-colored front door to her older model, white cross-over vehicle parked neatly under the carport. She scurried across the pavement, but didn’t really give him a second glance.
He smiled, though wasn’t even sure that she’d seen it. Besides being dead-dog tired from a twenty-four shift at Station House 58, with two bad calls that had sucked the life out of him, Heather Holbrook was not only out of his league…
She was a dentist.
He hated dentists.
He avoided them as much as possible, except for the occasional cleaning by a sweet older woman who understood his aversion, but unfortunately, she retired when his current dentist, that he didn’t see, even after his cleaning, had sold his practice to…
Dr. Heather Holbrook.
He groaned, rubbing the side of his mouth as he watched her pull open the driver's door with her dainty hands. Every morning he saw her she wore the same type of outfit. Dark slacks, a conservative top, flat shoes, and her long, dark hair pulled back in a ponytail at the nap of her neck, showing off sweet, kissable skin right under her earlobe.
Her sun kissed complexion sent his senses into over drive.
Stop!
She certainly wasn’t interested in him anyway. Pretty easy to tell that considering the few times they had talked, she barely pulled together a couple of sentences.
Of course, he hadn’t tried that hard to engage in conversation, for numerous reasons.
He slid from the truck like a slug, his body feeling more like fifty than a thirty-six year-old-man.
Working twenty-four hour shifts every three days for fourteen years will do that to a person.
The sound of an engine trying to turn over, but lacking enough juice, reached his ears, awaking the best quality he had as a human: the desire to help people.
That same trait had cost him a wife.
“Um, excuse me,” Heather said, waving frantically. The smoky lilt of her voice rolled across his skin like a wetsuit.
He stepped around the hood of his pickup, knowing he could never say no to someone in need.
Even if her hands caused pain to everyone who stepped into her office.
“Rowen? Right?” she asked as she crossed the property line.
He nodded. “Dr. Holbrook.”
“We’re neighbors, I think Heather is more appropriate.” Glancing over her shoulder, she pointed to her car. “I must have left a light on again or something, because my battery is dead.”
“I can jump it for you.” He tried not to stare, but it was impossible the second he locked gazes with her. He swallowed. Her dark, rich eyes had a wary look, much like his had the first few months after he’d asked Kim to leave. “But I’ll need to drive across the yards so my hood butts up against yours.”
“Oh, that’s fine,” she said, looking around, crossing her arms over her middle.
“Pop the hood and I’ll be right over.” He climbed into the cab of his truck, biting back a yawn, while he eyed her ass.
Looking was okay and that’s all he was doing.
He maneuvered his vehicle across the yards. Thankfully it hadn’t rained in a while, so the damage from his tires would be minimal, if at all.
Otherwise, his good-natured demeanor would have him doing her yard work, which reminded him that Mrs. Baker needed her lawn mowed, something he’d do as soon as he had a few hours of shut eye this morning.
His truck dwarfed her car, much like his six-foot-two frame did standing next to her as she handed him her set of jumper cables. He smiled, taking them in his hands, avoiding hers, because if he touched her skin, he’d probably hit on her, and that would be bad because he’d taken a break on the dating scene. He’d thought after his divorce had been made final, he’d be ready, and he was.
Only the women he ended up dating thought it sexy to be involved with a fireman, until they had to deal with the crazy schedule, which mostly was the need to catch up on sleep for the two days he had off between shifts.
“Thanks,” he said, staring down at her. If she was five-five and a hundred-thirty pounds soaking wet it would be a miracle. He’d probably break her in half if they ever…
STOP!
He looked under the hood and frowned. “You mentioned the battery died before?”
“Last night at work, and a few other times this week, but I’m notorious for leaving lights on.” She stood a few feet away, rocking side to side.
He couldn’t figure out if the sway was because she was in a hurry and annoyed, or nervous. “How old is this car?”
“About eight years, why?”
Damn honeysuckle voice made him want to forget why he’d never ask her out on a date.
“Have you ever replaced the battery?” He leaned over, checking out how badly corroded the connections were.
To say they were in bad shape was being kind.
“I honestly don’t know,” she said with a soft voice.
He hooked up the cables to her battery, then his. “Are the keys in the car?”
She nodded, biting her fingernail.
Stepping into her car, his knee smacked against the steering wheel. “Shit
,” he muttered, searching for the lever to move the seat back.
“You okay?”
“My legs are a little longer than yours.” He rubbed his knee.
“Oh, sorry,” she said, still chomping down on her thumb.
He turned the key and the engine made a noise that sounded more like a dying sea cow. He tried again, but this time nothing. Didn’t even turn over once. “You need a new battery. That one is shot.”
“Are you sure?” She dropped her hands to her side, letting out a long sigh.
“Positive.” Gently, he lowered her hood, letting it catch and lock closed. When he turned, she stared at her watch, this time biting on her lip. “Do you need to get into work? I can give you a ride and pick up a new battery for you, and install—”
“No. No. that’s okay. I’ll call an Uber and then maybe I can get a tow…” her voice trailed off as she poked at her phone.
“I don’t mind.” Why couldn’t he keep his mouth shut? He needed a few hours of sleep considering he might have gotten a total of two hours at the station, and not consecutively. It seemed every time he put his head on the pillow in the sleeping quarters, another call came in. “Your office isn’t too far away and there is an automotive store a few blocks past that. No reason to waste your money when I’m more than happy to help.” He raised his hands. “What are neighbors for?”
One of these days he’d learn to use the word no.
She glanced at her phone, fingers hovering over the surface. “Um, well, are you sure? I mean, that’s a lot to ask.”
He laughed, opening the passenger door to his truck, holding out his hand, wishing he could say it was inconvenient, only it wasn’t. “You didn’t ask. I offered.” Her small hand disappeared in his as he helped her step onto the running board. Her soft skin ticked his calluses, but her hands were used as weapons to grind through teeth until they taunted and tortured the roots, scarring patients for life.
A thought he’d keep right in the forefront of his brain, just in case his body tried to take over, focusing on how cute she looked riding shot gun.
Damn it. Stop.
He pounded his knuckles against the hood before sliding behind the wheel, and backed out into the quiet neighborhood street. One of the reasons he’d bought this house was because it was far enough away from the hustle and bustle of the city, but still close to the station house, so if he were called in for an emergency, he’d be there in less than fifteen minutes.
He tapped his chest with his forefinger in tune with his heart as he rolled to a four-way stop. Three little girls and their mother crossed the street. The girls waved frantically. He smiled, nodding, trying to forget the real reason he’d bought the house.
Kids.
But when your wife up and leaves you for another man, well, kids weren’t in the forecast.
That was two years ago and he’d given up on the idea. The women he ended up dating either couldn’t deal with his profession, or, like his ex-wife, Kim, thought he was too kind to the world.
Who could be too kind?
Hence, the no dating.
“Do you like the neighborhood?” he asked, easing out on to the main road.
“It’s nice and quiet.” She stared out the window, holding her purse tight against her chest.
“Where did you move from?”
She glanced in his direction. Those dark chocolate eyes making his blood pump a little faster to places it should be avoiding in the presence of a lady.
Who drilled teeth for a living.
All he had to do was keep reminding himself of that and the good doctor would have no effect on him at all.
Right.
“Houston,” she said.
He waited a long moment for her to elaborate, but she didn’t.
Like pulling teeth.
He rubbed the side of his mouth.
“Are you originally from Houston?”
She shook her head. “Not really from anywhere. My dad was in the Army and we moved a lot, like almost every year a lot.”
“I can’t imagine,” he said, smiling, finally getting a complete sentence. “I’ve never lived anywhere else but here. I’ve barely traveled outside of Dallas, much less Texas.”
“The longest I’ve lived anywhere was Houston. It’s where I went to medical school and worked in my first practice.” Her voice had a natural sultry tone to it and he wondered if she could belt out a few tunes.
An image of her singing in the shower, soap and over cover her body. He blinked, trying to erase that visual.
“So, if you don’t mind me asking, why the change to Dallas?”
“Opportunity to have my own dental practice,” she said with a wide smile.
That smile filled his gut with the warmth of sunshine and the burn from whiskey.
“I didn’t like working for a large dental practice. It felt so impersonal and I want to know my patients.”
“Sounds like a good plan.” He was one patient she wouldn’t be getting to know, at least in her office. “Have you had a chance to explore Dallas at all?” Don’t say it! “I could show you around if you’d like.” He glanced at her as he made the turn onto the street where her dental office was located. “Your own personal tour guide.”
Her smile faded.
Yeah. Dude, she’s just not that into you.
And she carries torture devices.
“Thank you, but I’m still so busy unpacking and getting to know those in the office that I’m constantly crunched for time. I still need to hire a few new employees to replace the ones that left.”
He pulled into the parking lot of her office building, which was really an old house turned office, easing to a stop near the front door. “The offer is there for after you’ve settled in.”
“I appreciate it.”
Before he had the chance to race around the front of the truck to help her down, she’d already stepped onto the pavement and slammed the vehicle door. “What time do you want me to pick you up?”
“Oh. No.” She shook her head. “You’ve done enough with bringing me here and taking care of the battery.” She ran her fingers through her long ponytail, twirling it at the end. “Can I give you some money now?”
As if he would take her money. “I’ll let you know what it costs.”
She nodded, glancing over her shoulder. “Thanks. And really, I don’t know when I’ll be done, so I’ll just take an Uber.”
“You could text me when you’re ready. I really don’t mind.” He jutted his chin toward the front door. “You can find my number in your patient data base.”
Her brows rose, surprise registering on her sweet face. “It’s not necessary.”
“True, but it’s what neighbors are for, and in our neck of the woods, we all watch out for each other.” He’d grown up in a tight knit community and wanted that for his family, another reason he’d bought the house. He kept it out of spite when he and Kim divorced. Some days he thought about selling. “If you call, I’ll come get you. If you don’t, just knock on my door so I can return your car keys.” He leaned against his truck, resting his hands on his hips, trying not to ogle her too much.
She glanced over her shoulder, then back at him, catching his gaze. Her dark eyes burned into his, sending a spark across his body. He held her stare, trying not to let his eyes dart over her sexy body with her tiny waist, breasts that would get lost in his hands, and curvy hips that he wouldn’t mind curling his fingers around.
He remembered the sound of his mother’s hand smacking upside his head, which made his shiver. She’d raised him to be a gentleman, and he was, but Heather turned him into a horny teenager.
“Thank you. I’ll be in touch after work.” She reached out, holding her hand in front of him.
She wanted to shake his hand? He wanted to pull her in for a long, hard hug.
“You’re welcome.” He wrapped his large hand over hers, squeezing firmly, but not so much that he’d crush her hand.
He held it for a l
onger moment, feeling her silky-smooth skin. When he finally released his grip, she nodded, then turned and hurried toward the five steps to the main doors.
Why did a hot dentist, capable of stealing his fire, have to be his next-door neighbor?
Chapter 2
HEATHER STOOD IN HER front yard, staring down the street, trying not to gawk at the sexy fireman wearing nothing but shorts and sneakers as he mowed Mrs. Baker’s yard, sweat beading across his muscled chest. His six pack abs flexed as he twisted the mower, making the corner by the driveway. Even from three doors down, she could see every single detail of his chiseled body.
She’d looked up his file after he’d dropped her off and was shocked that he had such a huge aversion to being seen by the dentist. The fact that the hygienist indicated this fear was from a childhood trauma, fascinated Heather.
But not enough to ask him about it.
She rubbed her arms, remembering the searing pain the last time her ex-husband had put his hands on her. Jeff had a similar build to Rowen. Tall, muscular, powerful, and handsome as all get out. Jeff had been kind and sweet during their courtship. Even their first few months of marriage had been bliss. She’d been so in love with him, she didn’t think life could be any better.
She never imaged how bad it could get.
Or how quickly.
The roar of the lawn mower engine cut out. Rowen yanked off his headphones.
“Let me finish up here, shower, and I’ll bring your keys over,” he shouted, sporting a small smile as his large, thick fingers scratched his sweaty chest.
“Great. Thanks.” It had only been a little over a year since her divorce, and for the first few months, Jeff had left her alone. Lately, however, Jeff had been calling and texting wanting to talk, swearing he’d changed. But even if he had changed his ways, her love for him died the moment his fist connected with her cheek.
Rowen slid his earphones on, strutting back up the lawn. She blinked, annoyed by the physical pull he had over her, and it wasn’t just his hunky looks with his short, dark hair, perpetual five o’clock shadow, and his rock-hard body.
It was him.