Misadventures with a Firefighter

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Misadventures with a Firefighter Page 12

by Julie Morgan


  “So you can see your life with Noah and his Marshall, then?”

  A tear slipped down my cheek, but it wasn’t from sadness. It was from joy. “Yes, absolutely. I am in love with him, Mommy.” It wasn’t often I called her mommy. Only when I felt vulnerable.

  “There’s my baby girl,” my mom said with a larger-than-life smile in her voice. “I need to meet my future son-in-law and future grandchild.”

  “Mom!” I gasped. “No one said anything about marriage!”

  She chuckled, and I could picture her cheeks red with humor. They would always redden when she would joke or tease someone. “Not yet, but I’m positive it’s coming. Just be ready, my love. Be ready and open to the idea.”

  I glanced down at my left hand and tried to imagine a ring on my ring finger. Once upon a time, I wanted this with Jeremy. Then that evil bastard ripped out my heart and beat it with a cleaver.

  However, with Noah, my knight who would go to battle for me, his mettle was tested to the brink of devastation, and he came out with his armor tarnished. And it made him the most incredible man in my eyes.

  “Cara?” she asked.

  “Yes, Mom?”

  “Do you love him?”

  I smiled and brought my left hand to my heart. “Yes, yes, I do.”

  “Then you need to figure out what diamond shape you love most, my dear.”

  I laughed into the phone and swiped at the tears my eyes produced. “How did you know Dad was right for you?”

  “I didn’t. Not at first. He swore to me that I was born to be his, though. In time, I grew to believe him and knew he was born to be mine.”

  “Noah was married to Marshall’s mother, though. I feel as if I’m playing second fiddle.”

  “You know, my daughter, we can fall in love many times in our lives. He may have fallen in love with Marshall’s mother, but he found you after the ashes fell. Just remember that.”

  My mother always had the right thing to say regardless of the situation. “Kind of like a phoenix.”

  “Yes, exactly. And you’re just that spark he needed to reignite the flame inside himself. No pun intended because he’s a firefighter.”

  I giggled into the phone. “You should see him in his turnout gear. Man, he’s hot!”

  She laughed. “Then I look forward to meeting him. Let me know if you’re able to come here for Thanksgiving or if it would be easier for me to come out since Noah has Marshall.”

  I sighed with a smile. “Mom, you’re amazing.”

  “Thank you. And you’re just like me, just as amazing. I love you, Cara.”

  “I love you too, Mommy. I’ll let you know about the holidays soon.”

  “Okay, dear. Bye for now.”

  “Bye.”

  We hung up, and I lay back down on my bed. I brought my left hand back up and stared at my ring finger, willing the image of a diamond into my head.

  Would Noah ask me to marry him? How would Marshall react to the news? How would I break it to the principal of the school that I was marrying the father of one of my students?

  Well, even though it isn’t their business, it could end your fucking career if you come out with this news.

  With another long, lung-filled sigh, I turned onto my side, pulled a pillow into my chest, and held it close. It comforted me in the same strange way a child clings to a teddy bear.

  My mother’s words of advice of long ago rang through my head. “To get anywhere in the world, you need a good purse, great shoes, and at least a hundred dollars in your hand at any given moment.”

  I didn’t think shoes, a purse, and money could get me out of this predicament. But did I even want out? No, not really. I wanted to dive deep and immerse myself in all things Noah. I wanted to be his and him to be mine. I wanted it all, even if it cost me my position at the school.

  Noah would be worth it.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Noah

  Halloween was behind us, and I must admit it was the best Halloween I’d had in a very long time. My time with Marshall was always amazing, but this time, with Cara, it was completely different. She had a fire about her that could light the darkest of rooms…just with her smile. She radiated confidence and sensuality. I salivated anytime I thought of her and being inside her. She opened a door to my heart that had been slammed shut after Autumn passed away.

  Thanksgiving was on the horizon, and New York City had had its first snowfall. The fires we had been called out to consisted mainly of mismanagement of fireplaces, kids playing with matches and lighters, and the occasional smoker who had fallen asleep with a cigarette in their hand. The latter was more common, but getting called out because children started a fire was something no one ever wanted to attend. It wasn’t because of the reckless nature. It was the possibility of finding a child’s body in the ashes.

  My friends on the police force had told stories of domestic violence calls that resulted in the deaths of the spouse and, more often than not, the children as well. Those are the kind of calls that made your stomach churn, and it took everything humanly possible to not want to strangle, shoot, or just break the neck of the person who would ever do that to a child.

  When I saw a child around Marshall’s age mixed up in these things, it made me hug Marshall that much tighter at the end of the day. Losing a parent to cancer was one thing. Losing them to violence was something completely different. No child ever deserved that type of treatment.

  Padding across the hall at the firehouse, I checked the schedule for Thanksgiving. I typically had Thanksgiving and the day after off by trading working the day after Christmas and New Year’s Eve. I was happy to see nothing had changed.

  Would Cara be interested in having Thanksgiving with me? Maybe she wanted me to travel with her to Tennessee. I wonder if she had told her mom about Marshall, or even me, for that matter?

  It was time to discuss what would happen for the holidays. Being single was easy—come and go as I please, go wherever, do whatever. Now that I was spoken for, it meant inviting Cara, getting her family’s approval, my family approving of her… Sometimes it was all too much. But for Cara? Totally worth it.

  I made my way to the locker room. The floor consisted of large checkered tiles of silver and dark gray with a thick red stripe of tiles running down the middle. Three walls were lined with shelves painted red with hangers for turnout gear, space for boots, and an area for our helmets. Above the lockers, a motto was painted for the team across the three walls:

  Firefighters demonstrate concern for others, a willingness to help those in need…

  The courage to perform the job’s duties, to serve unselfishly whenever called…

  A spirit that was called upon when relief was needed far away from their own home.

  I recalled the events that happened during 9/11. I had been sixteen and knew then I wanted to become a firefighter. My mom had called me brave. My dad had suggested I find a different field of work. He didn’t want his only son running into burning buildings that could collapse and kill him.

  I dug my phone out from my clothes and pulled up Cara’s information. I had saved her picture along with her contact information. I loved looking at her image. There were times I felt she could see directly into my soul. I wanted to share the deepest part of myself with her, and in some instances, I had. She knew about Autumn, her dying, and Marshall. Hell, she was Marshall’s teacher. She had gotten to know my son in a way no other woman had. She had a huge advantage on that front.

  Maybe one day she’d consider him hers as well.

  Marriage. Shit, was I ready for that? I loved Cara, I knew that much, but was I ready to give her my name?

  With a heavy sigh, I leaned against the wall and continued to stare at her image, when a new message popped up on my phone.

  “Speak of the devil.” I grinned and opened the unread message from my love.

  Hey there, sexy fireman of mine!

  How’s it going today?

  I moved my fingers ac
ross the screen as I sent a message back.

  Not too bad. It’s been an easy day so far.

  Off in a few hours.

  I pressed Send and let my arm go slack. Should I have invited her for Thanksgiving and Christmas? Should I have planned that far ahead and expected her to still be in my life? Shit, we were a couple now. How did I do this without fucking it up?

  Hi, my name is Dick. I can’t think for myself because I have a Noah. I mean, my name is Noah, and I have a dick.

  It used to be so easy for me. Really, it had been. I could stand there and smile, and women swooned and wanted to jump into bed with me. Easy. I might take them home and sleep with them, but I would then forget them the next day. Living was easy until Cara walked into my life. I didn’t want to go back to those days. I wanted hard. I needed difficult. I needed Cara in my life. It felt amazing, and she completed me the moment we first connected.

  My phone buzzed, and I brought it up to read her text.

  Do you and the kiddo have plans tonight?

  If not, I’d love it if you’d come over.

  No plans, and I can have my mom

  watch Marshall. I can be over around

  nine if that works.

  The phone showed she was typing a reply, and a second later, it appeared.

  Perfect. I’ll see you then.

  Great.

  I paused and stared at my screen, then continued the reply.

  There are a few things I want to talk

  about with you. Nothing bad, just a few things with the holidays coming up.

  Good to hear. I have a few holiday things

  to talk to you about as well. See you then! Love you.

  Then she sent a selfie of her blowing a kiss.

  I chuckled and responded with my own selfie of me with my brows raised, mouth open, and my hand pointing down.

  Send me a blowjob selfie,

  and I’ll show you my junk.

  I pressed Send and imagined the sound of Cara’s laughter. A second later, a picture came through of her holding her hand up and her cheek pushed out by her tongue. The perfect image of a blowjob picture.

  I chuckled and pulled my pants out, and as promised, I took a picture of my junk and sent it. I smiled as I waited for her picture back and wasn’t disappointed. She pulled the camera back and held it up. The image was of her standing in her bra and panties only, with a pouty look on her face.

  There’s only so much I can do without

  you. Hurry home, lover.

  Damn it, she was hot. So fucking hot. I wanted to do more than have her suck my dick. I wanted to taste her on my tongue, lick her from clit to ass, then take her from behind. My cock hardened with the anticipation of her being putty in my hands.

  I’ll see you soon. You got me hard.

  How do I work now?

  Her response came through a moment later.

  I would be happy to help relieve some of

  that work tension, but you’re there and

  I’m here. So I’ll see you around nine.

  Don’t be late.

  I groaned and put my phone away before we continued to sext each other. She was amazing—hot, delicious, and mine.

  I reached into my pants and readjusted my erection, then thought about baseball, football, soccer, anything to get this hard-on down. Then the alarm bell rang.

  Yep, that did it. My erection was completely gone. My teammates came running in, and we all changed into our turnout gear. I grabbed my helmet as we beat feet toward the engine.

  “Accident downtown on Essex Street. Pedestrian hit by a cab. The driver is still at the scene. Ambulance and police are en route.”

  Timing was everything. There were days no calls were received. Those were the best. No accidents, no reports, nothing to worry about. It also meant the days would drag by. We would play chess, perform practice drills, or watch movies.

  Then the days that we received back-to-back calls meant we couldn’t take a minute to use the bathroom, catch a breath, write up the necessary evil of paperwork. The paperwork could vary between maintenance requests to the station log. A few of the fighters were certified EMTs, including me. If we had to run medical calls, that was a whole new world of paperwork.

  We had a rescue ambulance staffed with at least one fire-paramedic and one fire-EMT. We could also run transport as well. Paperwork could take hours. I hoped tonight was not like that. I wanted to get to Cara as quickly as possible.

  We ran toward the engine and climbed aboard. I fastened myself in on the seat I’d made love to Cara on. If I were looking for an excuse to regain my lost erection, this would be it.

  Please, don’t let any of these asshats ask about my night with Cara in the cab. I’ll never hear the end of it, and I wouldn’t be able to bring her back without someone giving me or even her some shit.

  The ride was as quiet as usual, aside from the normal questions.

  Who’s running medic?

  Who’s blocking the road?

  Who’s working with the police and EMTs once they show up?

  We all played our own parts, and as a team, we worked well together. The only hiccup that had happened was when one of us fell. Smoke could take a man down faster than fire. Breathing in the smoke could put one under faster than being in a room full of flames.

  As we approached the accident, I could see the pedestrian bleeding onto the street. A cab driver stood over him with his hands on his hips. His posture gave off the vibe of the unlucky pedestrian being at fault rather than the driver. Maybe it was. No matter what, you didn’t play chicken with cars, especially in Manhattan.

  We pulled to a stop, and I climbed out of the cab and made my way over to the victim and checked his pulse. A woman was holding the victim’s head.

  “I’m Amy and I’m a nurse. I was waiting for the light to turn when this man crossed the street. I don’t know if he wasn’t paying attention, but the cab driver creamed him.”

  “Hey, it wasn’t my fault!” the driver yelled out.

  I looked up at him. “Wait by the car if you would. Police will be here shortly to take your statement.”

  He nodded and kept by his car.

  “Maybe say a prayer that this man lives through the accident?”

  “Why? He’s costing me money!”

  That was all I needed to hear from the asshole who’d hit the man. Regardless who was at fault, this was still a human being.

  “Thank you, Amy,” I said and checked the man’s pulse. It was weak, and more blood was coming from a laceration to his head. “I need bandages!”

  Moments later, the ambulance was on scene and took over preparations to get the victim to the hospital. I pulled off the latex gloves, put them into a plastic bag to throw away, and approached the police officer taking statements. It was Officer McNight, someone I had worked with occasionally. Great guy with a fun attitude.

  “The driver doesn’t appear to have any remorse about hitting the pedestrian,” I said. “My two cents, of course, but as he said, it’s costing him money to be stuck here and not running his cab.”

  McNight shook his head. “Well, I can make it really hard on him to make any kind of money today, the rest of this week, or even the next month. We’re trying to see if he was at fault or if the pedestrian wasn’t paying attention when crossing the street.”

  “According to the witness”—I pointed to Amy the nurse—“she said the victim began to cross but didn’t say it was a walking light.”

  “Great. Well, that’s why we have surveillance videos on the streetlights. Thanks for your time, Hughes.”

  “You bet. Later.” I made my way back toward the engine and grabbed a bottle of water. Our other EMT was working on paperwork, and I reviewed what he wrote up with approval. I checked the time and found it was a quarter to nine.

  “Shit,” I whispered and reached for my phone. I sent a message to Cara.

  Hey, beautiful. I’ll be late in getting there.

  We had an acciden
t to report to.

  See you soon. I love you.

  I put my phone back with my other personal items and waited for the accident to wrap up. It looked like the victim was a twenty-nine-year-old male named Timothy Light. No one was sure yet who was at fault. The information would get back to us soon. And if the investigation into the driver turned out to be speeding or running the light, he wouldn’t just lose his license. He might serve time.

  It was this part of life that I despised and didn’t want to let Marshall loose in. At some point, he would grow up and want to go out on his own, and I couldn’t protect him forever. But I would for as long as I could.

  Same for Cara. As a single woman living in Manhattan, it was a miracle nothing had happened to her. Arriving on scenes where women had been brutalized always sent a shock to my inner core. I went on autopilot and turned off the emotions. I had to. I had no other choice. Other times, I would return to the station and vomit everything I had eaten that day. It wasn’t an easy job, but if I was able to save the life of one person, then it would be worth it.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Cara

  I had checked my phone and read that Noah would be late due to a call. No problem. It was to be expected in his line of work. I poured myself a Merlot and took a seat at my dining room table. The placemats were set with dinner that grew cold and candles that were burned almost to the end. I looked like the storybook woman who was on the crest of losing her knight in shining armor. My knight had been kept late was all. Nothing more.

  My phone chimed with a new email. I looked down at it and was surprised to see it was from my school’s principal. Why would he be contacting me this late on a Sunday night? Then my stomach knotted and dropped to my knees.

 

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