Fight Fire with Fire: Men of Engine 10 Series

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  Fight Fire with Fire

  Men of Engine 10 Series

  Joanna Rose

  Copyright © 2021 by Joanna Rose

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  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

  About the Author

  Also by Joanna Rose

  1

  Despite the name carved into the black plaque on her office door and the Boston news outlets that referred to her as “Jack,” Miss Jaquelin Blake was, indeed, a woman. The gender confusion proved a valuable weapon in the testosterone-driven meetings in which she often found herself, especially when those who attended the meetings hadn’t done their research.

  Her short time as city commissioner hadn’t prepared her for the blatant sexism in politics, but the long years she’d spent working her way into her position certainly had. She’d long forgone the pretense of politeness and tolerance and replaced it instead with the “take-no-shit” attitude that had allowed her to advance as far as she had. Being a woman in a position of power had been a challenge from day one, but Jaquelin was no stranger to hard work.

  Her intercom came to life, and her assistant’s gentle, tempered voice jarred her from the stacks of paperwork she’d been working for hours to complete. “Jack, your two-thirty appointment has arrived. Would you like me to send him in?”

  Jaquelin pressed the talk button, allowing her voice to spill through Kayalani’s earpiece. “The fire chief—Mr. Hoss, correct?”

  The reply took a moment. “Mr. Hoss sent another man on his behalf.” Kayalani paused, and papers rustled as she searched through undoubtedly meticulous stacks of documentation for the man’s name. “Mr. Kellen O’Connor.”

  The name sounded unfamiliar, and she huffed in dissatisfaction. She supposed she could send the man away, especially given the fact that Mr. Hoss hadn’t bothered to make her aware of the change in plans. Her finger hovered above the call button, but she refrained from delivering the message as she recalled the handful of pleasant meetings she’d had with Mr. Hoss. She finally pressed a well-manicured finger back into the talk button of the intercom.

  “Can I expect a fair amount of masculine bullshit with this man, or am I to expect a pleasant meeting?”

  Kayalani didn’t hesitate. “I can assure you that Mr. Hoss sent a rather influential replacement.”

  Influential was Kayalani’s code for large, intimidating, and listening closely to each of her responses. Jaquelin sat straighter in her chair and adjusted her blouse. “In that case, bring him back.”

  She straightened the chaos that had become her desk into the three piles on which she’d come to rely. The first pile contained the most urgent documentation, which needed to be examined and filed daily. The second pile had a weekly urgency, and the third and smallest pile contained documents that could be handled with a lesser urgency. Jaquelin took a deep breath and intertwined her fingers as footsteps approached outside her door—one set light and nimble, the other heavy and steady.

  A single knock sounded through the door before it swung open, revealing a small-framed woman with long locks of curled blond hair that fell slightly past her breasts. Kayalani pushed her wide framed glasses up her nose as she took a step into Jaquelin’s office and gave her boss a look that expressed warning. The man approached behind her, and Jaquelin’s eyes jumped behind her assistant and rose slowly up the man, breath catching in her throat.

  He was not the usual old politician who arranged meetings with Jaquelin. He towered over Kayalani as she stepped aside and allowed a full view of him. He dwarfed the room as he stood inside the doorway, his bulky, nearly six-and-a-half-foot body intruding on the small space. His salt and pepper hair, cut short and cropped to his head, told her that he was around forty, but he couldn’t have been much older than that, especially given the lack of wrinkles or aging blemishes across his face. She moved her eyes to examine the face that stared at her with careful consideration, finding dark, bushy brows and the same salt and pepper hair across his chin and cheeks.

  His eyes, though, pulled Jaquelin from her trance. They were just as cool and calculating as the politicians she often handled. Examining the color–dark enough to be black but reflected with enough light to show their subtle gray hue–allowed her enough time to leash her interest.

  “You’re a woman,” he stated, almost as if the words weren’t meant to leave his lips. The smooth depth of his voice reached Jaquelin’s ears and brought shivers.

  Jaquelin raised her eyebrows. “Is there a problem with that?” He didn’t reply. He shook his head slowly, as if the shock still wracked him. “Okay then, Mr. O’Connor.” She regarded with her typical blend of professionalism and boredom. She stood in a fluid motion and extended a hand across her desk. “I’m Jaquelin Blake, but you may call me Ms. Blake or Ms. Commissioner.”

  His look of surprise gave Jaquelin a sliver of satisfaction. He stepped forward and grasped her hand in a firm shake. It didn’t escape her attention that his hand dwarfed hers in size. A pang went through her core as she noticed the protruding vein in his forearm that flexed as he tightened his grip. Jaquelin tightened her grip, as well, ignoring the discomfort she felt from such a tight squeeze.

  “You can call me Mr. O’Connor.”

  She nodded, coolly dismissing the fact that she’d already referred to him as such as she released his grip. She fell back into her seat, crossing her ankles beneath her desk. He remained standing for a long moment before she gestured to the seat in front of her desk. As he moved to sit, Jaquelin noticed the tight bunch of his muscles beneath his polo. Relaxing, it seemed, was not something the man was capable of doing.

  “Okay, Mr. O’Connor. Can you explain to me why you are here rather than Mr. Hoss?”

  “Both Mr. Hoss and the battalion chief had other business to attend today. I’m the captain of the Engine 10 Company, so I was sent to represent the department.”

  “I sent Mr. Hoss the budget for the new year last week, so I assume you’re here regarding that?”

  Mr. O’Connor chuckled under his breath, but a smile didn’t grace his lips. “You didn’t give the fire department the budget increases that were promised. We’re short-staffed, and that’s dangerous.”

  “Please feel free to elaborate on your argument, Mr. O’Connor. The way I see it, it is more dangerous for our officers to be riding partnerless in old police cruisers, which is why the majority of the funds were delegated to the police department.” He opened his mouth to speak, but Jaquelin raised a hand to silence him. “And the police chief met me personally once the budget was assigned. Mr. Hoss can’t find the time in
his day to do this, so why would I find the time to change the budget?”

  Mr. O’Connor’s gray eyes blackened as they filled with a fire. Jaquelin knew that if she were to look in a mirror, the same fire would have been reflected in her eyes. He leaned forward, and a whisper of a smirk graced her face at the challenge.

  “Some of our engines have two or three men a shift. The safest number of men per engine is four, and we only have that luxury in a few companies. We need funding for at least fifteen new hires to account for the lack of men.”

  He dropped a small stack of papers on her desk, and she moved it seamlessly to the small pile of files labeled “non-urgent.” His jaw ticked as he read the label.

  “You see, Mr. O’Connor, without statistics that prove your department is in more danger than the police force, I’m unable to allocate the funding. I gave a ten thousand dollar increase in funding for the fire department, which I pulled from other city programs. That will need to be enough.”

  The challenge in his eyes didn’t jar her. “Ten thousand dollars will buy the equipment for new men, and it might allow for one hire, but what about the rest? We both know that this level of budget increase is pennies compared to what’s needed.”

  “Your department can spend the allocated funds as you wish, but without cause, I’m not going to change the funding distribution.”

  His fingers tightened on the arms of the chair, and it creaked beneath his strength. Seeing his unwillingness to yield excited Jaquelin in a way that men’s stubbornness rarely did. “You clearly don’t understand the workings of politics, Jaquelin. Without providing us funding, you’re making a mistake, and you won’t have the fire department backing you for reelection.”

  She kept her smirk firmly in place as she read the fury in his eyes, but an anger of her own rose in her stomach. “And if I give you the funding, Kellen”—she made sure to use his first name as he’d used hers— “the police department won’t back me. Clearly, you know nothing about politics. Using my first name and attempting to bully me into giving more funding is a tactic plenty of people have tried. How many people do you think have succeeded, Kellen?” She paused and allowed his fury to exemplify her own as she stood and leaned toward him. “None. So, get the hell out of my office.”

  He stood and rested his hands on the other side of her desk. He leaned forward, close enough that she could smell his minty breath as it fanned her face. “You’re putting the city in danger,” he growled, his voice dropping in pitch as he spat the words at her.

  She narrowed her eyes. “Get. Out.”

  He turned and paced toward the door, throwing it open with more force than necessary. It banged against the wall as he walked away.

  Kayalani rushed into the office and stopped in the open doorway, looking around with wide eyes.

  “Are you okay?” she asked, her small fists balled at her sides. She undoubtedly passed him in the hallway and saw the fury on his face.

  Jaquelin nodded and took a deep, calming breath. “I’m fine,” she ground through her teeth. Despite the rage that blazed through her at his adamant disrespect, though, she couldn’t help but notice the core of molten pleasure that built between her thighs.

  2

  For a week, Kellen could think of nothing other than the spitfire of a woman who burned through every millimeter of his carefully collected composure. He wanted to throttle her for the challenge she fearlessly presented, but he also craved to feel those smirking lips around his cock. He could see past the baggy blouse and boot cut dress pants to how sculpted and meticulous her body was. The deep, unafraid brown eyes still peered at him through his daydreams as he envisioned that long auburn hair splayed across his pillow. If she was willing to challenge him in the meeting, he could hardly imagine how fiercely she’d challenge him between the sheets.

  “O’Connor,” Sully shouted, slapping him on the back as he passed. “I’m heading out for the night. Anything else you need?”

  Kellen shook the thoughts of Jaquelin Blake from his mind and adjusted himself to hide the slowly rising proof of his thoughts. “You logged your training hours?”

  Sully nodded and backed toward the door. “Yeah, and before you ask, I filed the paperwork from the job, too.”

  Kellen clicked his pen and sat it atop the nearly completed paperwork that he’d needed to finish before he left for the evening. “Then you’d better get home to the cat.”

  Sully snorted. “Asshole.”

  “I’d only be an asshole if it wasn’t true.”

  Kellen’s younger brother, Aiden O’Connor, emerged from the locker room in a pair of raggedy sweatpants and an old football T-shirt. “You act like you have a woman to go home to, Kelly,” Aiden said in Sully’s defense.

  Kellen scowled at the insult and leaned back in his chair, striking an arm out at Aiden’s gut as he passed. Aiden bent over and released a huff of air. “Coming from the seventeen-year-old virgin.”

  “I might be in my twenties, old man, but I get more pussy than both of you combined,” Aiden chided, flipping the bird to Kellen. Sully’s laugh resonated through the garage.

  “The kid’s got a point,” Sully started. “Kelly.”

  Kellen’s scowl deepened at the name. Aiden could get away with it, but Sully knew better. “For that, you can add another half hour of training time to your schedule Wednesday.”

  Sully’s laugh dropped. “Asshole.”

  Kellen knew he deserved it. “On that note,” Aiden started, “I’m out.”

  Before either Kellen or Sully could reply, Aiden had left the building, the pounding of rain seeping through the momentarily opened door. “Me too, boss. Don’t stay too late.”

  Kellen waved off the comment. “Watch the roads.”

  With a terse acknowledgement, Sully left Kellen alone in the room. Redmond, the quietest of the group, snuck out without a single word of acknowledgment, but it came as no surprise to Kellen. Redmond had never been verbose, and rarely partook in playful conversations with the other members of the company.

  Kellen spent another hour doing the paperwork before placing all the papers into manilla files and pulling himself to his feet. He stretched his arms above his head and did a last-minute check, turning off the lights in the garage and checking to ensure the keys to the fire engine sat in a lockbox. He locked up the garage and rushed through the rain to the car he’d left on the street twenty-four hours before.

  The moment he sunk into the fabric seats of his car, the full weight of his shift settled on him, and exhaustion pulled at his eyelids.

  He was ready for sleep to consume him.

  He started the car and shook his head, rubbing his calloused palms across his face to further his alertness. As he started his drive, the wipers drifting across his windshield in a rhythmic pattern that had him swaying melodically. Another car’s headlights jarred him enough to take a deep breath and break through the exhaustion induced trance.

  Five more minutes and I’ll be home and in bed, he reminded himself.

  It took more effort than he was willing to admit focusing on his surroundings and the cars that passed. Enough attention went into his journey to notice a four-door sedan, sleek and black, pulled onto the side of the road with a very flat tire. Kellen didn’t have enough time to slow down as he passed, but when he looked through his rearview, he noticed the headlights shining through the night.

  Someone was still inside the car.

  Kellen didn’t hesitate. He swore under his breath and swung into the turning lane, doubling back toward the stopped car. He made the short drive back to the broken-down car and shut off his ignition, standing effortlessly in the rain. It chilled him to the core, but he trudged through the small puddles on the road and approached the car.

  The windows were blacked out, and the darkness did little to help him see into the interior as he rushed to the driver’s window and tapped the glass.

  The window didn’t roll down, so he took a small step back. He knew that his size
tended to intimidate, and if it was a woman inside who needed a tire changed, he knew he’d be the best man to do it. The window rolled halfway down, and the shadow of a slim face came into view. “Hi,” a woman’s voice said through the pattering of the rain. The voice was familiar, but he couldn’t place it. “I’m trying to get a hold of a…” She cut herself off. “O’Connor?”

  Hearing his name on the woman’s lips jarred the recognition free in his mind, and he stepped forward, looking more closely into the car. A smile tugged at his lips, and he allowed it to spread across his face. “Ms. Blake.”

  Behind his smile, their conversations from the week before echoed through his mind, warming his freezing skin.

  “As I was saying, I’ve been trying to get a hold of a tow truck for a half-hour, and with the storm, they’re all swamped tonight.”

  “Maybe if there were more trained firefighters around the city, someone might have noticed you and helped a half hour ago.”

  He couldn’t see the expression on her face, but he imagined that his reply wiped the usual smirk away.

  “I’m not in the mood for banter this evening, Mr. O’Connor. Thank you for stopping, but I have this under control,” she stated, though he knew it was a bogus claim. Jaquelin Blake was anything but in control, though he had no doubt she tried to convince herself otherwise.

  “From where I’m standing, it looks like you could use some help.”

  She didn’t reply for a moment. “I’ll figure something out.”

  He deeply considered leaving her on the side of the road with her high and mighty attitude. The only thing that stopped him from doing so was the memory of her standing her ground against him in a way that grown men often hesitated to do. The memory of her challenging smirk brought the usual sour expression to his face and a rise in his pants.