Jack

by Kali Hart

  Jack

  Stryker County Fire Dept. Book 5

  Kali Hart

  Jack is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2020 by Kali Hart

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval systems, without express written permission from the author/publisher, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Epilogue

  1

  RENA

  I’m so mad I could scream.

  But of course, throwing a tantrum in front of a room of third graders isn’t exactly wise. Not to mention it’s considered unprofessional. But I’m so freakin’ mad!

  The kids are entranced in the movie I let them watch for good behavior and good grades on their last quiz. So beneath the desk, I stab out a text back to my brother, demanding to know why he can’t show up today to talk to my classroom about fire safety. He agreed to this three weeks ago.

  My kids are excited—so excited they’re squirming in their seats now even with a movie on. They’re expecting a fire engine in the parking lot and someone to show them how to turn on sirens and flashing lights.

  Too impatient to wait for him to text back, I slip into the supply closet and close the door. I can still keep an eye on the class through the crack in the door, but I don’t think I’ll be missed for a couple of minutes.

  “What do you mean you can’t make it, Braxton? You’re supposed to be here in an hour. One hour!” I whisper-shout into the phone.

  “Something came up. I don’t have time to explain. I’m sorry.”

  I let out a long, exaggerated sigh to let him know just how annoyed I am. What’s so important that he can’t even tell me why he can’t make it? “What am I supposed to tell my kids?”

  “Tell them they’re going to get to meet a real live firefighter, because I’m sending someone from the station to fill in.”

  “Who?”

  “Gotta run.”

  The call goes dead, and I’m left with nothing but questions and irritation. I want to trust him, but he’s never really been into the kid thing. I don’t think he understands how excited they are to meet him. I’ve talked him up all week. Now I have to introduce them to a stranger. Just peachy.

  I’m antsy through the rest of the movie. Normally I would break it up into two or three parts, but I know there’s no point in trying to teach a lesson the rest of the day. I just hope this last-minute replacement doesn’t phone it in.

  I’m glaring at the fire themed cupcakes I spent all night making last night when the movie credits start to roll. I might save one to smother my brother with. Death by frosting suffocation—that’s a thing, right?

  Whoever this fill-in is, he has five minutes to show or Braxton will live to regret this day. I’ll make sure of it.

  “Do we get to meet a real firefighter now?” One of the girls asks from the front row.

  “Yeah,” three others chime in. And before I know it, my room is in an uproar of excitement and demands.

  I’m going to kill Braxton. Slowly.

  A pounding at the door silences the room, and every head turns to it.

  On the other side of the door’s window, I see a tall man in a fireman jacket. His helmet is tucked under his arm, and there’s a sinfully sexy smile on his lips. Heat rushes throughout my body, doing a funny twirling, tingling thing between my legs. I think he just melted my panties.

  “He’s here!” I announce, trying to keep up the teacher thing. Because you know, I’m a teacher. A professional. Any thoughts of pulling this man into the closet and letting him ravage me have to be pushed aside and saved for later tonight in my fantasies.

  I open the door, allowing him into the room, but I can’t move. Our gazes are fused together. I swear there’s a current of heat swirling between us. I’d give anything to close the distance and slide under that jacket with him.

  “Can I come in?” he asks, sporting a smirk that makes me dizzy with want. It’s the giggles of the third graders that brings me back to reality.

  “Class, meet your real, live firefighter.” I look at him, because my brother never did tell me who he was sending. Please, introduce yourself I beg with my eyes.

  “I’m Jack. Jack Reeding.”

  “You’re a real live firefighter?” one of the boys asks, his eyes as big as saucers and as bright as the sun. If I had to make a bet which kid in this class would become a firefighter, I’d peg Caleb.

  “As real as they come.” Jack moves into the room with ease, and all eyes are locked on him. Including mine. But I’m the only one undressing him in my mind.

  It takes him all of three seconds to win over the room. He’s charming, exciting, and charismatic. The kids love him. They listen to everything he has to say. And much to my surprise, he seems prepared. He talks about safety in a way that the kids latch onto. When he quizzes them, hands shoot up in the air at a surprising rate.

  I wish they were that excited about my quizzes.

  But I can’t even be mad.

  Somehow, my brother did me a favor by sending this guy.

  “Who wants to see a fire truck?”

  Even I’m shocked at this. I was hoping Braxton would arrange to have one of the engines here for the kids to ogle over, but I didn’t know if he could pull it off. “You drove a fire truck here?” I ask quietly so none of the kids hear my skepticism.

  He winks at me. “I have my ways.”

  It’s all I can do to line my kids up and get them outside single file. Giving directions that I have to speak out loud and then execute has become the hardest task. I’m so frazzled with lust it’s unreal. But I’m not imagining those muscles under his jacket. He’s wearing a tight t-shirt that leaves my already overactive imagination on warp speed.

  I’ve made it a hard and fast rule never to date my brother’s coworkers. As mad as I am at him, I don’t want to cause any issues for him at work. It was never a problem to follow that one little rule. Until now.

  JACK

  I have to admit, I wasn’t exactly celebrating when Braxton called in the favor I owed him. On my day off, no less.

  But I’ve done the classroom thing a couple of times before. It’s something they like to make the new guy do. And even though I’m not new anymore, here I am. Last minute, but never unprepared. It’s not my style to wing anything, and even with less than hour notice, I came prepared.

  Well, I came prepared for everything but the teacher.

  Braxton failed to mention that his sister was hot enough to set off the fire alarm.

  The moment I saw her through the glass, my heart catapulted in my chest. My gaze raked over her curves with the deepest lust I have ever felt. She’s the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen.

  Now that we’re outside, and the light breeze ruffles the edge of her floral-patterned dress, I’m having trouble concentrating on the demonstration. But I’ll be damned if I let anyone know that.

  “Can anyone guess how many gallons of water this truck can hold?” I ask the wide-eyed kiddos. They’re easy to please, and eager to learn.

  But the best part is the smile I earn from t
he teacher each time I ask something educational. The twinkle in her green eyes that accompanies it is a mixture of sunshine and take-me-now that makes my dick half hard. The things I want to do to this woman.

  I ask a few more questions, explain how a few things work on the truck, how we pump the water to put out the fires. Things that the kids find exciting, and teachers appreciate. I know the drill. But I can’t deny that I’m trying a little harder to impress her.

  “Ms. Michaels,” I say, assuming she has the same last name as her brother. There’s no ring on her finger, and that makes me want her even more. It makes me want to put a ring on her finger so no one will think the wicked thoughts I just did about her. The thought is not as alarming as I expected it to be. I don’t even know this woman, but I know I want her. I don’t want anyone else to have her. “Is there anything else you wanted me to cover before I get to the fun part?” I wriggle my eyebrows at her, trying to be silly and flirty at the same time, and it gets the reaction I wanted. Her cheeks flush and her eyes darken.

  “No, I think you’ve covered just about everything.”

  Well, not everything. But there’s later.

  I hop into the truck and give the kids a show with the lights and sirens. I even let them take turns climbing inside and pushing approved buttons.

  “You coming up, Teach?”

  She stands in the doorway, feet on the ground, hand on the pole. “No, I don’t think so.”

  “Ah, you have to come up. Everyone else took a turn.” I’ve never been more annoyed by the massive center console. I’d love to have this woman in my lap.

  “I can’t.” She dips her head and now won’t meet my eyes. I can’t help but wonder if I did or said something wrong. “I have to get the kids back inside and ready for pick-up.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Thank you for coming today, Jack. I don’t know what happened to Braxton, but I’m glad you were here. The kids love you.” With that, she turns and walks her class back inside, leaving me all kinds of confused. I have to get to the bottom of this.

  2

  RENA

  I almost did it. I almost broke my rule. If I’d climbed into the truck with him, even with all the kids outside watching, I don’t think I’d have been able to say no to him ever again.

  It’s ridiculous, this magnetic pull I feel to Jack. We don’t know each other. But I still feel like I would trust him with my life. It has to be the fire suit. Because I don’t think I could trust him with my heart.

  Or could I?

  I’ve ushered all the kids out to buses and parents, and now I have a few minutes to collect myself. I’ll admit I was disappointed to see that the fire engine was missing from the parking lot, but what did I expect?

  I text my brother to thank him for sending a better replacement. It’s a jab I can’t resist, but it’s the truth.

  The kids will be talking about this all week. That makes it all worth it.

  They devoured the cupcakes, and only left me one. I savor the pastry I spent hours slaving over. The orange frosting is probably turning my tongue a funny color, but I don’t care. Today has been totally worth it all.

  Tomorrow we have an art project to start, and since I’m not ready to go home to my empty apartment and cook dinner for one, I begin pulling out supplies. I get everything spread on the table except the large construction paper. Some genius decided to put it on the top shelf. One that my short five foot four inches can’t reach even on tippy toes.

  “Need a hand?”

  I let out a quick shriek of surprise. Jack’s voice is even smoother than I remember, and I spent all afternoon committing it to memory. “Jack, what are you doing here?”

  “I’m here for the AAR.”

  “AAR?”

  “After action review.”

  It sounds military, and I can’t help but wonder what he might look like in that uniform too. “Uh, sure. But first, could you grab that stack of construction paper?” I point to the top shelf. He won’t have a problem reaching it. He’s so tall. So, so tall. He’s not wearing the fire suit this time, but it only makes my mouth water even more to see those thick biceps on the loose. They flex as he reaches above me, and I don’t even care that this whole scenario has me crowded into the corner of the supply closet.

  “All this?”

  “Yep.”

  He sets the pile on top of a filing cabinet but doesn’t move.

  “Thank you.” It comes out in a breathless pant. I want him so badly, but I can’t. I can’t get tangled up with someone my brother works with. It happened to my best friend, and it caused all kinds of problems. I swore I would never put my brother—as blockheaded as I think he sometimes is—in that same situation.

  “You have some frosting…” He nods down, toward my exposed chest. The orange frosting is as close to falling down between my breasts as this school-appropriate dress will allow.

  “Oh.” I stare at it, but I don’t do anything else. It’s like I can’t think. How do you wipe frosting off your cleavage? The answer feels like some tricky trigonometry question I can’t solve on the spot.

  “Let me get it for you.” Jack dips his head before I can tell him not to—but let’s be real. I can’t even speak right now. And if I could use words, why would I? Soft moans are so much better. His lips caress the hollow of my neck, slowly trailing their way down. My eyes fall shut as his tongue dips between my breasts and cleans the frosting.

  “There,” he says against my ear, his teeth catch my lobe and tugging. “That’s better.”

  His hot, perfect lips kiss a path along my jawline. My heart races, my chest rising and falling like I’ve run a marathon. And with each rise, my nipples brush his chest of steel.

  “Kiss me,” I pant in a desperate whisper. “For the love of all that’s sweet and sugary, kiss me already.”

  He lines his lips up with mine but keeps them a feather’s width away. His eyes darken as they peer into mine. I think this man can see clear into my soul. It’s unsettling and comforting all in one hurricane jumble of feelings. Nothing makes sense, and yet everything does. Trying to sort any of that out now would be pointless.

  “I think I’m a fan of you begging,” he says to me in a growl that makes me squeeze my thighs together.

  “Fucking kiss me already,” I order.

  I wait for the hungry collision, but instead, he brushes my lips tenderly. The sensation is so surprising. And so erotic. It’s a gentle side I didn’t think he had. It leaves me craving more. I part my lips inviting his tongue into my mouth. He teases me, makes me wait.

  His hands slide their way down my sides in such slow motion that I nearly explode. The sexual tension from before has nothing on what’s being created right now.

  “You’re in such a hurry,” he tsks against the opposite ear as before, giving it the same attention. It’s agonizing and euphoric. “I want to take my time, Teach. I want to savor you.”

  His stubble tickles my neck as his lips trail their way along my collarbone. It’s all I can do to fight the moans that long to escape. I want to cry out his name and beg him to take me, but we’re in the supply closet of my classroom. Someone might hear me.

  “Have dinner with me.”

  “I—I can’t.” They’re the hardest words I’ve spoken since I met this man. I hate my stupid rule right now. Hate it so much. But it exists for a reason.

  “Rena?” I hear a nasally voice call.

  “Shit,” I whisper, pushing at the man of steel. “It’s the teacher across the hall.”

  JACK

  I could punch the man who had the nerve to interrupt what was happening in this supply closet. I bite down on her neck, winning the sexy gasp I’d hoped for, and push away. My dick is half hard in my jeans, and I’m forced to adjust myself before I can leave.

  “Go, Teach,” I say to her. “I’ll be right out.”

  I try to think of things that’ll calm my dick down, because right now it doesn’t want to think about anything
but her tight pussy.

  “Did you need any help, Rena?” I peer through the crack in the door to find the owner of that annoying voice. What right does that bastard have calling her by her first name? My fists ball at my sides with irrational jealously. There’s no way Teach is into him. He’s too old for her—older than me and I bet I have ten years on her. He’s almost completely gray. And so frail a light breeze might knock him on his ass.

  “No, I’m fine. Thank you, Mr. Carlton.”

  “Dick, please.”

  Are you fucking kidding me? That weasel’s name is Dick?

  “I’m just getting ready to leave.”

  I can’t wait for my dick to get any softer. I’ll just have to go out there sporting half a hard on. Maybe it’ll make that Dick back the fuck off. Rena’s my woman, even if she hasn’t figured that out yet. There’s a pull between us that I’ve never felt with anyone else before. The way she reacted to my touch tells me she feels it too.

  “Here’s that construction paper you needed.”

  “Thank you, Jack.”

  I give that weasely bastard a snide smile, because she didn’t address me like I was an elder. “Anything else I can do for your, Teach?” I wink at her, making sure Dick gets a clear view of our little flirting session.

  “No, that was it. I’m ready to leave.”

  “I’ll walk you to your car,” I say before Dick gets the chance. Because I can tell he’s been waiting to ask her the same thing. I give him the back-the-fuck-off look, and he finds some wisdom within himself and tells Rena goodbye.

  “You didn’t have to do that, you know.” Rena sounds almost annoyed. “He’s harmless.”

  “He’s eyeing you like you’re a dessert, Rena.”

  She grabs her purse and marches to the door, only waiting for me because she has to lock her classroom. “I don’t need protecting.”