by Mia Madison
Table of Contents
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
EPILOGUE
LIGHT MY FIRE
A Steamy Older Man Younger Woman Romance
Mia Madison
Copyright © 2017 Mia Madison
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons (living or dead), places or events is purely coincidental. All characters involved in sexual activity are 18 years of age or older.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the author or publisher.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to the author.
NOTE: This story contains scenes of a sexual nature and language only suitable for mature readers.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
EPILOGUE
CHAPTER 1
Lara
“Please say yes. It’s for the hospital.”
My friend, Jessica, thrusts a flyer at me. The local fire station is doing a sponsored car wash on Saturday to raise funds for the children’s hospital. There’s a photo of a shirtless fireman washing a car on the ad. The display of broad shoulders and hard abs is obviously designed to appeal to any woman in the city with a pulse.
I’m happy to help the hospital. I still remember the nurse there who was kind to me when I broke my arm on a visit to the city.
My parents initial concern dissolved into bickering with each other about who was to blame for me falling. The nurse gave them such a look, but even at six years old I knew nothing would stop them once they started. It was the nurse who gave me a hug and soothed my distress.
I’ll help the hospital anytime, but I’m not sure about this event. I don’t need a firefighter to wash my car. I can do that myself whenever I want.
“We don’t need to show up to help the charity. Look, there’s a website for donations. We can send the money instead.”
But Jessica looks at me with big eyes. “That’s not the point,” she says. “Firemen are the point. Hot firemen wielding wet sponges.”
“Ah! I see, it’s not the charity you’re thinking about. They’ll need to sponge you down, too, never mind the car.”
“Come on, Lara. I would do it myself if I had a car. Let’s take Ruby along and the firemen can do their thing.”
Ruby is my beat-up red Toyota. I love that car, seeing as I need her to get me to my three jobs, but washing her has never been a priority. She’s often grimy, but it usually rains enough here in Yorkshire to wash the worst of the dirt away.
But whatever. If it keeps Jessica off my back, it wouldn’t hurt Ruby to have a proper cleaning for once. “I guess we could go. But if you’re planning on fixing me up on a double date with one of those firefighters, don’t even think about it. I haven’t forgiven you for that last date you roped me into.”
Jessica keeps trying to set me up with guys from her office. And those dates have always been a disaster.
“Ungrateful wretch.” She laughs. “Firefighters are not the same as guys who work in insurance.”
“They’re all men, aren’t they? There’s bound to be something wrong with them.”
“Men are just people. No one is perfect.”
“But some are less perfect than others.”
Perfectly annoying. I’ve sat through too many awful dinners to want to sit through another one. Besides, if my past experience is anything to go by, too many relationships end badly. There doesn’t seem much point in going through all that.
“Anyway,” she says. “I’ll see you Saturday. And honestly, I am thinking about the charity. I only want to go because of that.”
“Really? Okay, then.”
“Yes. Without it, the firemen wouldn’t be offering their services.”
And I have to laugh. Because this is Jessica, and I’ve known her forever and love her to bits.
*
There’s a line of ten or eleven cars waiting at the fire station when we arrive on Saturday morning. We’re later than I wanted to be, because when I went to pick up Jessica, she still had to make a whole lot of last-minute touches to her hair and makeup. Despite reminding her we’re only going to get the car washed—and not to paint the town red—she wouldn’t be hurried.
Almost every vehicle in the line has a woman driver and a female passenger.
“Can’t we just leave the money and run?” I say to Jessica. I don’t have time for this. I could be doing my laundry and stocking up on groceries for the week ahead.
“We’re here now. And I didn’t want to mention it, seeing as we were coming here anyway, but your car really could do with a wash.”
“That was Doug’s fault. He wanted my help with birthing a cow. It was pretty muddy at the farm.”
“Jeez! I thought you were only helping at the vet’s office. Doesn’t he have assistants for that?”
“He does. But they were both busy with other animals. Doug says he can rely on me to be sensible in a crisis. He just wanted me to hand him instruments, not deal with the mother. The calf came out all right in the end.”
I smile at how relieved we were when the poor little creature showed that she was no worse off for her rough start.
Jessica smiles, though animals have never been her thing. “That’s good. About the calf. Let’s just enjoy the view while we’re waiting.” She nods toward the forecourt of the fire station.
Three firefighters in full gear are busy with buckets of water and sponges, soaping down two of the cars. A fourth holds a hose ready to wash off the suds.
“Which one is your favorite?” she asks, as they shed their jackets in the late summer sun. “I’d cuddle up with any of them on a cold night, but I don’t see the one from the flyer.”
“They probably drafted in a professional to model for that.”
“No. There he is.”
A fifth firefighter emerges from the fire station, holding a tub of car wax and a cloth. He looks even better than in his picture, and he’s a couple of inches taller than the other guys. I must admit the sight of his white T-shirt stretched across broad shoulders could distract even a practical girl from wanting to do her laundry.
I resign myself to waiting in line. There’s no way Jessica is going to agree to leave now. But at least there’s the compensation of something magnificent to look at while we wait.
The guys laugh and toss sponges to each other. They’re blatantly showing off, like peacocks displaying
their feathers. The women in the line of cars and those waiting on the grass while their cars are washed are clearly enjoying the display.
“Mmmh, nice,” Jessica says. “Just look at that.” They are a fine sight. I’ll give her that. But these guys love themselves just a little too much.
Finally, it’s our turn. I drive onto the forecourt and pay Mr. Broad Shoulders and Hard Abs through my open window.
“Thank you, ladies.” He smiles, his brown eyes crinkling at the corners. Up close, I notice that he’s a little older than the others in an all-man-not-boy way. But there are no touches of gray in his dark hair. “I see we saved the best car to last. Have you been through a mud wash first?”
Jessica giggles, and I want to kick her. No doubt the dirt has baked onto my car in the sun.
“Don’t worry, we’ll have your car shining like new in no time,” he says. We roll up the windows and get out.
Jessica’s phone buzzes, and she picks up the call and moves over onto the grass to take it, leaving me to stand there with the fireman and his friends. Jessica winks at me before she turns her attention to her call as if to say, “Have at it.”
You’d think she’d know me after all this time. Flirting with a firefighter or five, no matter how sexy they are, is not even on my radar.
CHAPTER 2
Ewan
The guys convinced me that giving up a Saturday morning would have its compensations, and not just because we’d be helping the kids’ hospital.
And they were right—we’ve been washing and polishing cars for hours, but the time has flown past. I’ve enjoyed joshing around with everyone in the sun, and the steady stream of women wanting their cars cleaned has put us all in a good mood.
Cooper, true to form, has collected a whole set of phone numbers. Even Billy, the quiet one of the crew, has made a date with a shy girl in a Ford Focus.
“You’re off your game today,” Cooper says, when we go inside to get more supplies and hot water. He’s right. I’m just not feeling it.
Don’t get me wrong, I like women as much as the next guy, but I’m getting jaded with endless dating. I’m almost starting to envy Tom and Andy with their look-but-don’t-even-think-about-touching wedding bands. They’ve had just as much female attention as the other guys, but they’re happily going home after this to their wives and families.
Then the Toyota with baked-on mud turns up, the dirtiest car of the day by a long shot. For some reason, it makes me laugh, because this one really needs a wash. A quick wipe with a soapy sponge was enough for most of them, but we’ll really need to work on this one. What does this car get up to that the others don’t?
I don’t mean to offend the owner with my mud wash comment, but she gets out after paying me, an irritated look on her face. And what a face. And body. Blue eyes, dark hair and curves in all the right places. Turns out I’m not immune to every woman wanting her car washed today after all.
“Sorry if I insulted your car,” I say. “I’ll throw in the wax polish for free.”
“No need,” she says, glancing at the board with the prices. “It’s for a good cause. I’ll pay the extra.” And she hands me another five pounds.
She goes to sit on the grass while we set to work. My eyes keep straying over to her as if they have a will of their own. What is it about her? We’ve seen a fair few women with sweet faces and hot bodies today. But this one is different.
And then it strikes me why she stands out from the others. She’s sexy without making an effort. It looks like she threw on jeans and a shirt and jumped in her car without a care in the world. Her dark hair is loose, tucked behind her ears, and she’s not wearing much makeup, if any.
She sits there, scrolling through her phone screen, not paying us any attention at all.
Maybe she’s just busy with her messages, but there’s something too deliberate in how she’s choosing not to look our way.
Just as we get started on the Toyota, Andy’s wife, Rita, shows up with their little girl, Sophie, who must be about three or four years old. Rita waves at Andy, and he tells her he won’t be long. She sits down on the grass to wait, and Sophie starts wandering about, not venturing far from her mother, playing with the daisies, mostly pulling off their heads.
When I look up again, Ms. Sexy but Natural has stopped playing with her phone and watches Sophie for a moment, then she picks a few daisies and makes a daisy chain, offering it to the little girl with a smile. Rita nudges her daughter to take it, and the women exchange a few words about the weather.
It’s nothing—just a couple of women sitting on a patch of grass on a sunny day, a scene that must play out countless times every summer. But right now I envy Andy more than ever, and I wish the beautiful, natural-looking girl making daisy chains was waiting for me just like Rita is waiting for Andy.
CHAPTER 3
Lara
At first, I keep my eyes on my phone. I’d have to be brain dead not to notice flyer man, but there’s no way I’m going to give these guys the satisfaction of yet another woman simpering over them as they wash my car. The sooner they finish, the sooner Jessica and I can get out of here and get on with our Saturday. I don’t want to encourage them to put on any kind of display for my benefit.
When the little girl toddles onto the grass with her mother, I get a ridiculous pang of envy. I get on well with my mother now, but I don’t remember her just sitting with me like that. Yet, it must have happened, at some point. Maybe other memories, the bad, more vivid ones, have wiped everything else out.
Jessica and I picked plenty of daisies, though, in the field behind her house. When I give the little girl the chain I made into a crown, I glance at my friend to see if she remembers that, too.
But Jessica is pulling faces at her phone. “My boss,” she mouths, and slices a hand across her throat. It looks like someone is in trouble. “Okay then,” she says, “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“What’s up?” I ask her.
“The systems have crashed. Finch wants me to go into the office to interface with the team in India. They outsourced everything and now there’s no one on hand to shout at when things go wrong. What a pain.”
“We can tell them to stop.” I nod over at the firemen who are giving the car a second going over with soapy sponges. “Ruby is clean enough. I’ll take you.”
“No need. Driving to the office will take you out of your way. I’ll call a cab, and the company can pay. Honestly, all this cost-cutting is freaking ridiculous. This fiasco will end up costing them more than they ever saved with outsourcing.” She selects a number from her phone and calls a cab.
The little girl’s dad comes and scoops her up, and he swings her onto his shoulders. The family head off, waving to the guys finishing up with the hot water and suds. Some kids are just lucky with their families, I guess.
Jessica and I watch the antics of the other firemen for a few minutes. Having finished with the water, they decide to have a sponge fight with what’s left of it. Ridiculous! They are just like big kids. But I can’t help noticing how flyer man’s t-shirt clings to him when he catches a sponge and water goes all down his front.
“Grab me a date with that one,” Jessica says, when the cab turns up. “If he’s single, and you get the chance.” She indicates the guy who’s now drying and polishing my side mirrors.
I don’t know why I’m relieved that she didn’t set her sights on flyer man. Neither of us is getting a date with any of them. Why didn’t she choose him, though? He’s by far the sexiest guy there—a little older than the others, fair enough, but he has all the confidence of a man who owns the space around him. I like that.
“Catch you later,” I say.
“Yes, and you can tell me everything then.”
I know I’ll have nothing to tell, but I nod and smile anyway.
A few minutes later, my car is finished. It sits, looking as good as new, red paint all gleaming and polished on the fire station forecourt. The firemen admire their h
andiwork. And a couple of them high-five each other. The car washing is over for the day. I’m guessing the hospital did well out of this.
“Thanks,” I tell the guys, and flyer man opens the door and bows down low. I want to laugh, but I manage to contain myself. I just have to get out of there, away from all this nonsense. There’ll still be time to do my laundry.
“You can always thank me by giving me your number,” he jokes as I get in. At least, I think he’s joking, so I smile and put the key in the ignition.
I turn the engine over, and it splutters and stops. Ruby is not usually this temperamental. I try again. Second time lucky. But no, the engine doesn’t catch. She had better not let me down now. I try again. No dice.
“I wouldn’t do that anymore. You’ll flood the engine,” flyer man says helpfully. As if I didn’t know that, but this time I have no clue what to do instead. Give me a dog with fleas or an irritated customer at the café, and I know what to do. But I’m lost with this.
I should have renewed my roadside assistance service, but Ruby has been as good as gold, and it seemed like a lot of money to waste when the insurance came up for renewal.
“Let me look,” helpful macho flyer man says.
“It’s okay, I’m sure you’re busy.” Pride won’t let me admit defeat. Not yet, anyway.
On the other hand, when I open up the hood and stare at the engine myself, I’m no nearer getting her started. The engine just looks like a lot of metal parts. I mean, I know vaguely what the parts are, but I have no clue what’s wrong or how to fix them.
My car will be in the way here at the front of the fire station. This is all I need.
I look up from under the hood and shut it quickly. The other firefighters are no longer around; only the one from the flyer is left. Did he send the others away? “I’m so sorry. I’ll get a garage to tow her away,” I say.
“No need. I can take a look at her later, and we’re all finished here, so I can give you a lift home. Just give me five minutes, and we’ll move your car.”