Passion Point Firefighters: Extended Collection

by Brynn Hale

  There isn’t much more I can do. Walking away feels like too little and yet begging isn’t me.

  Jess joins us with a bag in her hand. “I called the landlord. He’ll call the restoration company to take care of closing it up.” Those soft brown eyes glance up to Deacon. The same color as his eyes. “Could I, I mean, if it’s not too much trouble, sleep—”

  “You’ll stay with me for as long as you need. I have a guest bedroom. You’re all good.”

  “Thanks. I know this isn’t the way I wanted to get to know you, but…”

  Deacon tugs her close. “But we’re family. It’s okay, sis.”

  Her lips pull inward. “Yeah, family.” Her gaze travels to me. “I’m sorry.”

  “For?”

  “Everything.”

  Chapter Seven

  Jessica

  Dr. Lakeman gave me a prescription for some pain meds as the burn started to really hurt at the hospital last night. I slept hard. I think I needed to decompress and examine…everything. Visiting Dairen in the hospital last night was eye-opening as to what firefighters faced. He was making jokes and seemed like he was in a good mood, but still, he was in the hospital. Part of me hoped that Boscoe would show, but he didn’t.

  Dairen was released to Deacon late and he stayed in Deacon’s third bedroom. It was the first time we’d all been in the same house since I was five. Eighteen years wondering if they hated me or if they blamed my mom for leaving their dad. But they didn’t. They made it clear that their father, when he was alive, made it clear that their problems had nothing to do with her leaving and that our mother was stronger than he was because he couldn’t leave.

  Deacon took me to the store to get some fresh clothes this morning while Dairen still slept. Everything in my house smelled like smoke. The smoke remediation company would be out later today, but the house wouldn’t be fixed for a few weeks. I hadn’t broached the subject with Deacon about staying but since my renter’s insurance covered temporary housing, I was on my phone looking.

  “What’re you doin’?” He points to my phone.

  “My renter’s insurance will pay for a—”

  “No. You’re staying here.”

  I sip my coffee. “That’s nice of you, but I think I should have my own place.”

  He shakes his head. “You are so much like Mom.”

  I still. “What?”

  “Strong. Independent. Resilient.”

  My eyes well with tears, but I sniffle them away. “Thanks. She is those things.”

  “I’m sorry we stopped coming around. I think we felt like she’d started a new life and we needed to let her have that life. In a way, it was us protecting ourselves, too. It was hard to see her happy with your dad and you.”

  I reach across the table. “I know. But I hope that we can let go of all of that old and start new. I want to have you and Dairen in my life.”

  He squeezes my hand. “Really, you really want Dairen in your life?”

  I hear the socks swishing on the carpet hallway of Deacon’s ranch house on a quiet cul-de-sac.

  “Fuck off, Deacon!” Dairen grabs the coffee pot from the kitchen and brings it to the table like he’s going to drink right out of it.

  Deacon gets him a cup and pulls creamer from the fridge. “Your favorite, sir.”

  “Damn straight.”

  “Dairen, I’m so sorry about last night. I didn’t realize I…and you would get…” My chest burns. “I’m just sorry.”

  “Hey, accidents happen. That’s why I’m a firefighter. I’m just glad you’re okay and safe.”

  Safe I was. Okay…that was highly debatable.

  “Where’s Boscoe?” He grimaces. “Don’t tell me he’s in your room. God, I have to get used to this, don’t I?”

  I take another drink of the black sunshine. “Actually, I don’t know. I think maybe he and I just need to be friends.”

  They both stop moving and only their eyes dart to me.

  Deacon opens his mouth, but Dairen beats him to the punch.

  “What? I thought…Jess, that man’s in love with you. And I thought that you’re the same for him.”

  I was. Am.

  “But how can I sit at home for days worried and imagining what’s happening to him? I don’t think I’m strong enough.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Deacon leans toward me, his eyes big. “Jess, after getting a Harvard degree, you went back to school to do what called to your heart. And I hear that maybe you might want to go to law school now.”

  “That’s cool,” Dairen offers while clearing his throat. “I’d never seen Boscoe like that yesterday.”

  “Like what?”

  “Worried about anything. He’s usually cool and even a little aloof. But he was freaked out. You don’t do that unless the person means something—everything—to you, Jess.”

  Everything.

  “I love him,” I whisper into my coffee cup.

  “And I’d definitely say he loves you, too.” Deacon shakes his head. “Actually, he told me, so I know it.”

  Dairen leans back. “So, are you going to follow your heart or are you going to walk away scared?”

  Maybe people could make it. Hell, in the last two days, I’d even imagined what our kids would look like. Kids? Plural. I smile. They’d have his beautiful hazel eyes, green on the inside and caramel on the outer rim of the iris. They’d have his height, long legs and excellent tight ass. They’d have his…cocky side. And they’d have my strength and resilience.

  It was time to bounce back and straighten that spine, fears be damned.

  Boscoe

  My phone buzzed while I sat on the couch staring into…nothing.

  Deacon: We have a problem. Meet me at Jessica’s law firm office. ASAP.

  Boscoe: On my way.

  I throw on a jacket and head the six blocks to her office. Maybe someone needs medical treatment. Maybe he and Dairen changed their minds and are going to beat the shit out of me. That is a slim chance, but still…

  I arrive at the office and his truck isn’t in the parking lot. I walk to the door and it’s open. I stick my head inside. “Hello? Anyone here?”

  I hear music playing from the back of the building. What is that?

  “Deacon?” I call out.

  I step in further. “Dairen?” I swallow. “Jess?” My heart clips at a different pace in my chest as I hear the music clearer. Girl’s Just Wanna Have Fun?

  I stick my head around the corner into the breakroom and there’s a person lying on the dark walnut conference table. My hands chill. “Jess?”

  There’s a paper on her chest. I pick it up and watch one of her eyes creep open just a slit.

  dear boscoe,

  i was scared. scared that i’d found someone who would change my life and make me consider giving up control of my heart—and you did. my heart stopped beating without you. i’ll be your rock, if you’ll be mine. Please resuscitate me, because i love you.

  Your jess, now and forever.

  I remember how I told everyone in this room that she was “my rock” on Friday and a blast of warmth covers me. I toss the sheet on the table and crawl up there. I start singing to the music that has changed to “One Less Lonely Girl” by Bieber. Deacon has told me on more than one fishing trip that my eclectic song lists drives him crazy. What can I say? I like what I like.

  Her eyes open and those perky pink lips raise. “I love you, Avery Boscoe.”

  “Jessica Saunders,. I need you in my life forever. My heart will never be the same, but in a very good way. I was broken and you healed me. Plus, you make me so damn hot.” I bounce my eyebrows.

  She laughs. “Resuscitate me?”

  I hover over her mouth. “Only if you’ll breathe life into me, too.”

  “Done.” Her long fingers slide into my hair and she tugs my head to hers.

  Our lips join and there’s no denying she’s mine and I’m hers. Twisting tongues and roaming hands raise my blood pressure and heat my bo
dy. And in minutes, I’ve lost my breath in the best way and she’s staring down at me as we make great use of that conference room table. My cock still pulses inside of her quivering pussy.

  “Want to go have lunch with Deacon and Dairen?” she asks, skimming a finger over my nipple.

  “Whatever you want, honey.”

  Her head falls to my chest. “Maybe just a minute more.”

  No, a lifetime more…

  Epilogue

  Jess

  My friend, Gigi, gives me one more once-over. “You are gorgeous, Jess.”

  I look in the bridal suite mirror. The A-line, empire-waisted, cream-colored dress flatters my body’s curves.

  He’ll go fucking nuts.

  “What’s that weird smile for?” she asks.

  “Nothing. Just happy.”

  There’s a knock on the door and Deacon peeks around the corner. “Can we come in?”

  “Sure.”

  His body is pushed into the room and Dairen crosses the room to me from behind him. “Jessica, you’re beautiful.” He kisses my cheek. “Mom’s going to be wailing.”

  “Probably.”

  Deacon and Dairen accompanied me to a family dinner in Boston in the summer. They talked things out and now we are all a family. My father isn’t here. That’s a long story, but Boscoe has been there for me through it all.

  My place hasn’t been fixed, but I’d moved out a month ago—well, actually I never really returned. Boscoe’s condo is home. And I applied to Harvard Law. I’m not quite sure the path I will take, but half the fun is finding out the surprises to come along the way.

  “Ready?” The wedding planner opens the door.

  “Ready.”

  The guys go to be Best Men. Both of them. Gigi and Reese are standing up for me, but I bet Reese is out smooching on her own firefighter. Their romance set things on fire, like her panties from what she’s told me.

  Gigi and Reese start down the aisle. I step into view. I’m walking by myself. I’m strong. I’m me.

  Reese moves to the left and Boscoe’s mouth falls open before rising into a wide smile, his eyes glossy like mine. He mouths, “Wow,” and I blow him a kiss. The photographer is right there to capture the magic of it all.

  Love is hard. Loving a firefighter is harder. But damn…sometimes the hard times together make it so worthwhile. I shiver remembering last night. He was very, very hard…and it was perfect.

  The processional starts playing and I make my way down the aisle to…

  My everything.

  ~THE END~

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  KELTON

  Chapter One

  Reese

  I see them across the grocery store produce section. Firefighters. Why is it that a man in a simple pair of black pants and a red T-shirt can look so damn inviting?

  I shelve my libido in the canned goods aisle. I only have three things on my list: eggs, basil, and a ViewPoint, the Passion Point newspaper. But as a chef and restaurant owner, I’m always finding a new product, seasoning, or oil that calls my name, anything to make my restaurant a success.

  That is my only goal. Well, that and the effect of it teaching my parents that I can make it on my own and I didn’t make a mistake opening this restaurant.

  I round a corner and almost run into one of their three carts. I recognize one of the group, but I keep moving. I’m technically on a mission to get those three items and get out.

  “Reese?” he asks.

  I look up into the tall man’s hazel eyes. “Hey, Boscoe, how’s Jessica doing?” I like to think that their romance started in my establishment, Season 617.

  “Great. She’s back to work and she’s all healed.”

  “That’s great to hear.” My eyes scan the aisle and find a man that’s a tall drink of whisky, a golden-copper brush of closely trimmed whiskers over his face, short curly copper red hair, and denim blue eyes. The Passion Point Firefighters T-shirt skims his round and toned shoulders, then slips over his hard chest, and down a stomach that I could eat off of. I bring my gaze back up, and he’s staring at me.

  He winks. Been caught. Oh well. Worth it.

  I grab the shopping cart to steady myself as he walks closer, three kinds of pasta in his hands.

  “Boscoe, which shape did you want?” He holds up spaghetti, penne, and small shells.

  “Does it matter?” Boscoe asks.

  I hold up a finger, but the golden god beats me to it.

  “Actually, it does.” He models the shells. “Shapes are best for baked dishes. Long shapes like spaghetti are for heartier sauces, including meat- and oil-based. And other shapes like the penne and fusilli are good for pasta salads because they hold their shape and bite as well absorb dressings and sauces.”

  I know my mouth is open, but I don’t care. “Are you a chef?”

  “He does do most of the station cooking,” Boscoe interjects.

  I look at the firefighter’s name tag. K. Cassidy. I seem to remember the last name from the past. Having grown up in Passion Point, I know better than anyone that there are some families that are legends. Including mine. The eight Dynas family Greek restaurants—The Greek Leaf 1, The Greek Leaf 2, The Greek Leaf 3, etc., etc.—are steadfast statues in Passion Point and the surrounding area in Boston, Andover, and Cambridge, Massachusetts, too.

  The cocky smirk that comes over K. Cassidy’s face about melts my panties. The man knows heat and he’s bringing it, too. Damn.

  I turn to my left. “He’s right. So what sauce were you planning, Boscoe?”

  He holds up a gigantic jar of a name-brand, sugary, blood red garbage. To me, at least. “The tried and true tomato goo, with about ten pounds of hamburger.” He points to the mounds of ground beef in the cart.

  I roll my eyes and Firefighter Cassidy chuckles. I can’t even look at Boscoe’s proud face. “I’m going to leave after hearing that culinary travesty. Nice seeing you, Boscoe.” I pass by the other firefighter and smirk. “Good luck, Cassidy.”

  “Goddess,” he whispers, and I inhale quickly, but I keep walking.

  Yep, gonna need fresh panties.

  Kelton

  I spin as she walks away. The woman is a true goddess in the flesh. Her olive-toned skin, that black as midnight, shoulder-length hair with an icy gray strip in her bangs, and I don’t think she’s anything over twenty-five, if that. At thirty-two, I’m sure I’m out of her target age range. But hey, it doesn’t hurt to flirt is always my motto.

  “What else is on the list?” I ask.

  Boscoe uses the pen to check a few things off. “Parmesan cheese and garlic bread are what’s left.”

  I consider making a dessert. My sweet tooth has been killing me, and since I put the probies—probationary firefighters—through extreme paces this morning, and they all passed with flying colors, we all deserve a sweet treat.

  Like that woman.

  As a lover of all things food, I have a couple of recipes in my arsenal. But right now, in early June, strawberries are in season, so I’ll get those and some angel food cake. Light but decadent. I grab a cart. “I’ll get the cheese. You get the bread.”

  “Meet at the checkout?”

  “Go.”

  I grab the strawberries and cake and then head toward the dairy aisle for the cheese. There she is, staring at choices…for canned whipped cream.

  My mind wanders to a very self-indulgent place. A little squirt here, a little there. Using my tongue to lap all of it off of her glowing skin in slow, long licks. I clear my throat to hopefully clear the thoughts, too.

  What’s strawberries and cake without a squirt of whipped cream? I slide in next to her, and we both reach for the same can.

  Extra Creamy.

  I bite my tongue. “Sorry, you take it.”

  She tows the can to her body. “Looks like it’s the last can of extra creamy.”

  “My loss.”

  With a wicked smile, she p
ops the lid, shakes the can—her bountiful chest doing a jiggle with the movement, and holds it tipped up. “One shot for the road?”

  I about drop to my knees, but I collect myself. I really shouldn’t be doing this in public, but at this moment, it’s clear I’ll do whatever this woman says, offers, demands.

  I bend over to meet her petite height and slowly drop my mouth open. She fills it with the cold and fluffy concoction. I stand upright and allow the whipped cream to melt in my mouth and offer with a hand gesture to return the favor.

  Her green eyes sparkle in the dairy case lights. I never thought a moment here in the fucking grocery store could be sexy, but goddamn, it’s almost too perfect.

  She lifts the can and squirts a healthy dose of whipped cream into her mouth, a bit landing on those burgundy red lips. My cock flashes with heat. Thankfully, the grocery store is dead at this time on a Thursday afternoon, or I’d be giving mouth-to-mouth resuscitation to at least one elderly woman from the neighborhood.

  She licks that one spot off of her lip, shoves the lid back on, and pushes her cart away. “Have a great evening, K. Cassidy.”

  “Thanks for sharing your…cream. My first name’s Kelton. Wait, what’s your name?” I call out.

  Her black hair twirls as she glances back. “Reese… Reese Dynas.”

  Oh, that’s not good. Or maybe it is…

  Chapter Two

  Reese

  I grab a paper from the checkout and pay for the now twelve items. Boscoe stands over in the corner, texting on his phone, and a little part of me thinks he’s blushing. I give a quick wave to him when he looks up. He does the same back. His new girlfriend Jessica is sweet, and he seems to worship her.

  I got to my car with my bags in hand. I watch as the firefighters loaded their bags into a truck and head off.

  Kelton Cassidy. Great name for a fire fighting hottie. His dark blue eyes looked like they held the world in them. Deep like the oceans, but playful like a wide-eyed puppy’s. I imagine he is in his thirties, but I’m never one to judge based on age. My parents are ten years apart in age, and their love created eight children, thirty-two grandchildren, and one single, twenty-three year old woman who gets told over and over by both of them that she needs to find a man.