Tasting Fire

by Kelsey Browning

  Cash took a full breath and smiled at the old guy, putting all his patience and persuasive personality into it. The other firefighters called it his baiting-the-hook grin because it worked in all sorts of situations—encouraging cats down from trees, calming panicked loved ones, and scoring bridesmaids at wedding receptions. He slung his arm around Mr. Felder and led him outside. “Why don’t we power down the fryer for now? I bet if you take your sack of fish over to the Triple B, the kitchen would cook up the whole mess for you.”

  Mr. Felder’s brows drew together like two centipedes humping out a quickie. “That purely legal?”

  Cash had no idea, but he’d put in a call to Randi Shepherd and beg her if necessary. Hell, for all he cared, she could throw out Mr. Felder’s fish and substitute some from the restaurant’s freezer.

  “I’ll let Randi and the others know you’re coming.” Mr. Felder nodded, and Cash turned off the flame under the deep fryer. They should load that rusty thing onto the truck and drop it by the landfill on their way to the station. “And I’ll call Grif and let him know you need a little help with cleanup over here.”

  “Ain’t no reason to bother the city manager. I can handle it.”

  Maybe he could. Maybe he couldn’t. But the beauty of living in a town the size of Steele Ridge was that people looked out for their neighbors. They cared and they took care of their own. As one of Steele Ridge’s most senior public servants, Cash’s cousin would want to know about Mr. Felder and the state of his house. “Need a ride over to the Triple B?”

  Mr. Felder grinned like a gap-toothed six-year-old. “On the engine?”

  “Why the hell not?”

  By the time Cash made it back to the station, it was almost noon. He felt as if he’d been dunked in Triple B’s fry basket, and he smelled so bad, he was surprised Randi had even let him stand near her restaurant’s back door. If he didn’t like catfish so damn much himself, he might swear off it after this morning.

  When he walked inside, C shift was sitting around in the recliners like a bunch of fat cats watching ESPN recaps. Fuckers.

  Callahan, a good friend and a fairly new dad, said, “Somebody get the ketchup and tartar sauce! Kingston’s back.”

  In retaliation, Cash walked behind Callahan’s chair and swiped a hand across the guy’s hair, leaving a palm-sized trail of gunk behind. Then he slapped the back of his head for good measure.

  Callahan just laughed. “Donaldson’s got coleslaw and hush puppies ready in the kitchen. All we need is the fish.”

  “If the stink is any indication,” Donaldson said, “then Kingston’s got ’em tucked in his turnout suit.”

  “Screw every one of you,” Cash said. “I’m headed for the shower.”

  “Not happening, brother,” Callahan said. “They brought the party to you.”

  “What?” Cash rubbed his eyes and flinched at the gritty feel of his corneas.

  “SWAT captain, the sheriff, and some other folks are in the lieutenant’s office.”

  Fuck, how could he have forgotten about that, even momentarily? Too much cornmeal on the brain. He couldn’t let anything distract him from the destination he’d been traveling toward for years.

  As he strode out of the room, Cash ducked his head to do a pit sniff. His buddies were right. He smelled like a dead animal that had rolled in fish guts before kicking the bucket. Maybe his eau de hard work would be a reminder that the new head of the TMT was willing to do any-damn-thing to get the job done.

  When he eased his way into the lieutenant’s office, everyone else immediately edged away, leaving him with a clear view of Captain Styles and Maggie. When she got an eyeful of him, Maggie’s eyebrows shot under her hairline.

  Cash just shook his head and lifted a shoulder. He’d dress up and smell good for the first commendation the TMT received.

  The captain stepped forward, her short gray hair neat and her navy pantsuit serious. “Thanks to everyone who applied to become the newest members of the tactical medical team and the current tac medics who vied for the TMT lead position. As you know, we took these selections very seriously, especially since so many of you stepped up and challenged us by providing such a qualified applicant pool.” She called out three names of medics Cash respected the hell out of. “If you weren’t selected this time to join the existing team, please don’t be discouraged. It’s highly likely we’ll add more team members in the future. Now, for the TMT lead…”

  The captain quickly glanced at Maggie, who cleared her throat nervously. Which was weird as hell because the last time she’d been nervous was when she’d let Brynne Whitfield talk her into an algae body wrap.

  “This person has exactly the type of background and skills we need to guide this new group,” the captain continued. “Your new team lead knows Steele Ridge, knows emergent medicine, and has my—and Sheriff Kingston’s—full support and backing.”

  Cash’s heart rate inched up, and his chest felt twice its normal size from pride. A little in himself, but mostly pride that he was making his sister and his town proud of him. He’d worked his ass off for this opportunity. Even though he wanted to bust a grin, he made himself stay controlled and professional.

  “So I’d like to introduce you to the new head of the TMT, Dr. Emerson McKay.”

  When Emmy stepped into the room from a side doorway, Cash experienced a spontaneous hearing loss. Everything that had been perfectly clear two seconds ago turned into a snarl of spitting static. Like he was driving his truck along that spot on Talleyville Road where the trees killed the signal from every radio station.

  Just schhhhh, schhhhh, schhhh.

  The captain’s mouth was moving, so words must’ve been coming out, but Cash couldn’t even read her lips. Then Emmy turned toward the captain and responded, and all Cash could do was stare at her lips. That perfect shade of pink. No lipstick, no gloss, just his Emmy.

  Dude, she hasn’t been yours in a long time, and she sure as hell isn’t anything to you right now.

  But still, he couldn’t look away from her. She was wearing black pants, a blue collared shirt, and a doctor’s lab coat. It appeared she still didn’t slather on the makeup—just a little mascara and some color on her cheeks. Her deep brown eyes held a serious expression, one that Cash had first glimpsed as she pored over a biology textbook in high school, and her shiny dark hair was pulled back into a single complicated braid that somehow seemed both professional and blindingly sexy.

  What was Emmy doing in Steele Ridge?

  And more importantly, how the hell had she just stolen his new job?

  3

  When Captain Styles finished the announcement, Emmy stepped forward, and the first person her gaze landed on was Cash Kingston.

  Still. After all these years, Cash Kingston was still the most mouthwatering man she’d ever laid eyes on. And that was saying something when a girl had grown up in the same town with the four infamous Steele brothers.

  Then again, Cash was their cousin, which meant the genetic code in that extended family was first rate.

  He was also the opposite of happy to see her. Emmy might even go so far as to describe the expression on his face as anti-ecstatic, bordering on you’ve-gotta-be-fucking-kidding-me.

  Probably no one else would spot it. They’d just see a grimy firefighter who was slightly bored with what was going on here. But not Emmy. She knew the sudden lack of symmetry of his lips meant he was biting them from inside his mouth.

  That he was biting back something explosive.

  Which meant no one had warned him she was moving back to Steele Ridge. When Emmy had reached out to the St. Elizabeth’s ER director, the other doctor had expressed interest in bringing her on board at the hospital. And less than thirty minutes later, her phone rang and she found herself on a conference call with Jonah Steele and Maggie. They’d given her the impression that Steele Ridge desperately needed someone to lead the TMT.

  Could they have overlooked one of their own?

  Regardless, s
he couldn’t do damage control in front of a room full of people, so for now, she just slapped on a smile that contracted her cheeks so tightly that they ached.

  Cash backed out of the room and disappeared, which left a hollow feeling inside Emmy’s chest.

  “Thank you, Captain Styles and Sheriff Kingston, for putting your trust in me. I’m looking forward to working with all of you assigned to the TMT. Expect an updated training schedule within twenty-four hours.” She addressed the captain. “Do you mind if Sheriff Kingston and I step out for a moment to discuss a few things?”

  “Take all the time you need.”

  With all the training Emmy did to keep in shape, she was as buff as Maggie, albeit in a slightly shorter package. So it wasn’t too hard to yank the sheriff into a nearby hallway. “Maggie, something just happened back there. And you’re going to tell me exactly what it was.”

  The sheriff glanced over her shoulder, and when she turned back, the guilty expression in her eyes clinched what Emmy had suspected.

  “Cash had no idea you’d hired me, did he?”

  Dropping her forehead, Maggie squeezed her temples between her thumb and middle finger. “I tried to talk with him earlier this morning, but they caught a fire. This announcement was already scheduled, so it couldn’t be put off. Not even for him.”

  She’d known he was a member of the team, known it might be a little awkward at first. But he’d not only been surprised when he spotted her. He’d been downright pissed. “It wasn’t exactly the way I wanted to see him again for the first time, but it was more than that, wasn’t it?”

  This time, Maggie’s head went back and she blew out a breath toward the ceiling. “He wanted the TMT lead.”

  Suspicion confirmed. Well, lovely. Just effing fabulous. “The role you and Jonah recruited me for.”

  Cash’s imminent-explosion expression made perfect sense. Cash was a smiler. So much that she used to tease him that he was a natural as a tooth model.

  But the groove in his left cheek hadn’t been apparent today.

  “I didn’t make the final decision and neither did Jonah. Captain Styles wanted someone with experience,” Maggie said, her tone sharp and in command. “You were the right person to lead this team. You have more education, more training, more experience. More everything. So did I put your name forward? Hell, yes. Do I like the fact that you’re the same woman who broke my brother’s heart? Hell, no.”

  She hadn’t meant to break Cash’s heart, but Maggie’s comment about more education made Emmy wince. That was a massive reason she and Cash had broken up the spring of their high school senior year. Because she’d wanted something—academic and career success—that he hadn’t taken seriously. At least not for himself.

  Damn. Him.

  But Cash’s lack of educational ambition had never dissuaded her hormones. One glance at him a few minutes ago, and her body had reacted like a tween at a Justin Bieber concert. Light head, rapid pulse, and the overwhelming compulsion to throw herself at him.

  And that was the dead last thing she should be thinking about when Cash would be one of her new team members, but something told her that would be way easier said than done. “I need to talk to him.”

  “Emmy, you probably shouldn’t approach—”

  “If you, Jonah, and Captain Styles want this tactical medical team to work and work well, then I have to deal with this. Now.” When she hurried back into the lieutenant’s office, she asked, “Did anyone see where Cash Kingston went?”

  “He’s off shift.” The bite in the stocky man’s—Johnson? No, Jackson—tone made it clear he wasn’t happy with Captain Styles’s selection.

  Another guy, this one with the sweet face and freckles of a ten-year-old said, “You might be able to catch him in the parking lot.”

  “Thank you.”

  Although her heart was thumping against her rib cage, she was careful to keep her strides even and slow as she made her way through the door to the parking lot. Cash was shoving a duffel and what looked like a weed whacker into the rear seat of a black Dodge Ram 3500 with matte-painted running boards and grille protector. Cash’s normally blond hair was streaked with greasy soot and the downward slope of his broad shoulders inside his navy blue uniform hinted at exhaustion and disappointment.

  She’d bet anything she was the source of one, if not both.

  “Cash,” she called out, “can we talk?”

  His shoulders went rigid, and his duffel slid off the backseat and onto the pavement. He bent to retrieve it without looking her way. Once he stuffed it back inside the cab, he slowly turned to face her. “I guess I should say welcome home.”

  “I didn’t know that you wanted the TMT lead position. If I had, I would’ve never taken it.”

  “The captain must’ve done some fancy talking to convince you to leave Baltimore. Or maybe it was Maggie and Jonah.”

  She shouldn’t be surprised he’d figured it out. After all, even she knew that Jonah Steele influenced much of what happened in this part of the state.

  “They were just trying to—”

  “Do what they thought was best.” Cash’s hand tightened around the door frame, making the muscles in his forearm bunch.

  Just like everyone else, he had extensor muscles under his skin, but his made her short of breath. And if she was more turned on by Cash Kingston’s extensor digiti minimi and extensor carpi ulnaris than she’d been by anything on Oliver’s body, there was a reason she’d said no to his proposal.

  To the ring she’d found out later the jackass hadn’t even picked out himself. Apparently, one of the admin staff had.

  With a jerk, Cash slammed the truck door. “Somebody needs to tell Jonah Steele that he is not, in fact, the king of Carolina.”

  “From what I hear, he’s done a lot of good for Canyon… I mean Steele Ridge. Even with a new name, it’s good to be home.”

  “Why did you come back, Emmy?”

  She glanced around, relieved to find the parking lot deserted except for her and Cash. “I have my reasons.”

  “You also had reasons for leaving.”

  What went unsaid was that when she had, she’d left him behind as well, something that had hurt them both at the time. And with the way her chest felt right now, the hurt clearly hadn’t been eased.

  But how was she to know that a first love might stand the test of time? That leaving Cash behind would create a hole inside her that she hadn’t been able to fill with anyone or anything else.

  She couldn’t tell him that right now because he’d believe she was trying to manipulate him. He would never believe that one reason she’d returned to Steele Ridge was to win him back.

  “The most important thing is that I’m here. I can mold this TMT into the best in the state, if not the country. But you have to believe I never would’ve accepted this position if I’d known it was what you wanted.”

  “Hey, let’s just look at it like Dynasty or Will and Grace. Some idiot obviously decided it was a good idea to bring back old TV shows.” In a flash, Cash’s scowl turned to the charming grin he’d always been so famous for, and it hit Emmy like a blast of warm wind—robbing her of breath and making her eyes water. “Because surely everyone wants one more episode of Emmy McKay publicly humiliates Cash Kingston.”

  * * *

  He’d tried to stay cool while Emmy had been apologizing to him earlier. Maybe she hadn’t known how badly he’d wanted that position or that he’d wanted it at all, but his sister sure as hell had. And maybe Maggie hadn’t been the one to make the final decision, but Captain Styles respected the hell out of her professional opinion. Maggie had a hand in this.

  When he strolled into the sheriff’s office, Shari, Maggie’s assistant, gave him a quick look-see of approval. Good. That meant she couldn’t see the oily fire of resentment burning under his freshly showered and cleanly shaved skin.

  Then her welcoming smile melted into a glower, and she shook her head. “I heard about what happened this morning.
That high-and-mighty Emmy McKay. I swear we should run her fancy doctor pants straight back outta town.”

  With a nonchalance he wasn’t feeling, Cash leaned a hip against Shari’s desk. “Don’t know what you mean.”

  “The TMT lead. Everyone knows you were supposed to run that team.”

  “Oh, that. It’s no big thing.”

  “But…but everyone thought it was yours. Not just the other firefighters and medics, but people here in town.”

  Unfortunately, the good citizens of Steele Ridge didn’t have a damn thing to do with decisions about the SWAT team. “Maggie in?”

  Shari’s mouth tipped down even farther. “I know she had something to do with this. I’ve been giving her the silent treatment all day, but I couldn’t ignore it when she went stomping by me into her office. So yeah, she’s back there. And if she wasn’t the sheriff, I’d give her a piece of my mind.”

  He just smiled because Shari might be angry, but she wasn’t a fool. Very few people tangled with Mandrell Margaret Kingston and lived to tell the tale. “Don’t go getting all upset on my account. This ain’t no thing for a stepper.”

  “Go on back then.”

  When he opened the door to Maggie’s office, she was sitting in her chair, looking out the windows that gave her a bird’s-eye view of Steele Ridge. She didn’t miss a damn thing going on in this town, in this county or, hell, in all of Western North Carolina. So she’d known this was coming down for a while.

  Her back tensed the second he’d stepped into her office. “Well,” he drawled, “I think I’d rather have a proctologist shove his finger up my ass than get bent over the way I did earlier.”

  Maggie’s chair whirled around, her hands fists on the surface of her desk. “I tried to talk to you beforehand.”

  “This decision wasn’t made yesterday.” He meandered around her office, moving her diploma a few inches to the right, angling a law enforcement award to the left, just to fuck with her. “That much is obvious if Emmy was already in town. I also know you and Jonah had a hand in it.”