LITMIR.BIZ

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it was most definitely, absolutely, a two-way thing.

      Which didn’t help at all.

      “Guys,” he called out over his shoulder. “She’s here.”

      “Number Seven showed?” This from a tall, dark and extremely drool-worthy firefighter in the doorway to the kitchen.

      “Meet Aidan,” Zach said to Brooke. “He dated New Hire Number Two and she never came back, so he has orders to stay clear.”

      “Hey, I didn’t plan on the shellfish giving her food poisoning,” Aidan said in his own defense. “But just in case…” He flashed a smile at Brooke, a killer smile that rivaled Zach’s. “We’d better not go out for shellfish.”

      Several more men crowded into the hallway to take a look. Yeah, they really did make them good-looking here. Must be the fresh sea air. “Hi,” she said, waving. “Brooke O’Brien.”

      The bell rang, and everyone groaned, their greeting getting lost as they headed for their gear.

      “Aidan and I roll together,” Zach said, stepping into his boots. “With Cristina and Blake.” He gestured to two additional firefighters, the first a tough-looking beautiful blond woman who smiled, the other, male, tall and lanky, not smiling.

      Zach shook his head. “Or, as we call Blake, Eeyore.”

      Okay. Brooke wasn’t smiling, either, so she put one on now, but it was too late; they’d turned away.

      “You’re with Dustin,” Zach called back.

      Dustin, who looked like Harry Potter The Grown-Up Years, complete with glasses, raised his hand. “We’re the two EMTs on this shift. Nice to meet you. Hope you orientate fast.”

      She hoped so, too.

      Dustin gestured to the door, nodding to the two firefighters not moving. “This is Sam and Eddie. Their rig wasn’t called, so they get to stay here and watch Oprah and eat bonbons.”

      They took the ribbing with a collective flip of their middle fingers, then vanished back down the hall.

      “Actually, they’re scheduled to go to the middle school on Ninth this morning and give a fire safety and prevention speech to the kids,” Dustin told her with a grin. “They’ll eat their bonbons later. Let’s hit it, New Hire Seven. It’s a Code Calico.”

      “Code Calico?”

      But he was already moving to the door that led directly to the garage and the rigs.

      Cristina brushed past Brooke and set her mug in the sink. “Good luck.”

      “Am I going to need it?”

      “With Dustin, our resident McDweeb? Oh, yeah, you’re going to need it.”

      “What’s a Code Calico?”

      Cristina merely laughed, which did nothing to ease Brooke’s nerves.

      Blake poked his head back in the door. He’d pulled on his outer fire gear, which looked slightly too big on his very lean form. “Hey, New Hire. Hit it means hit it.”

      So she did what was expected of her—she hit it. Dustin drove, while she took the shotgun position. “So really, what’s a Code Calico?”

      Dustin navigated the streets with a familiar sort of ease that told her he knew what he was doing, not even glancing at the GPS system. “Want to take it?”

      “Take it?”

      “Be point on the call.” He glanced at her. “The one in charge.”

      She sensed it was a test. She aced tests, always had. That was the analness in her, she supposed. “Sure.”

      He pushed up his glasses and nodded, but she’d have sworn his lips twitched.

      Huh. Definitely missing something.

      When they pulled onto a wide, affluent, oak-lined street, she hopped out and opened the back doors of the rig.

      “Gurney’s not necessary on this one,” Dustin told her.

      Behind the ambulance came the fire truck. Zach and the others appeared, smiling.

       Why were they all smiling?

      Before she could dwell on that, from between the two trucks came an old woman, yelling and waving her cane. “Hurry! Hurry before Cecile falls!”

      The panic in her voice was real, and Brooke’s heart raced just as Dustin nudged her forward, whispering in her ear, “All yours.”

      This was the job, and suddenly in her element, her nerves took a backseat. Here, she could help; here, she could run the show. “It’s okay, ma’am. We’re here now.”

      “Well, then, get to it! Get my Cecile!”

      “Where is she? In the house?”

      “No!” She looked very shaky and not a little off her rocker, so Brooke tried to steer her to the curb to sit down, but she wasn’t having it.

      “I’m not sitting anywhere! Not until you get Cecile!”

      “Okay, just tell me where she is and I’ll—”

      “Oh, good Lord!” The woman blinked through her thick-rimmed glasses, taking a quick look at the others, who stood back, watching. “She’s another new hire, isn’t she?”

      “Yes,” Brooke said. “But—”

      “What number are you?”

      Brooke sighed. “Seven.”

      “Well, get a move on, New Hire Number Seven! Save my Cecile!”

      “I’m trying, ma’am. What’s your name?”

      “Phyllis, but Cecile—”

      “Right. Needs my help. Where is she?”

      “That’s what I’m trying to tell you!” The woman jerked her cane upward, to a huge tree in front of them. Waaaay up in that tree, on a branch stretched out over their heads, perched a cat.

      A big, fat cat, plaintively wailing away.

      Brooke turned and eyeballed Dustin, who seemed to be fascinated by his own feet, and that’s when she got it. She was going through some ridiculously juvenile rite of passage. “I’m beginning to see how they got to number seven.” Good thing she was used to being the newbie, because she hadn’t been kidding Zach yesterday. Little scared her, and certainly not a damn cat in a damn tree.

      “Hurry up!” Phyllis demanded. “Before she falls!”

      “I’ll get her.” Zach had separated from the others and walked toward the tree.

      Oh, no.

      Hell, no.

      They’d wanted to see her do this, they were absolutely going to see her do this.

      “Brooke—”

      “No.” She kept her eyes on Phyllis. “Cecile is a cat,” she clarified, because there was no sense in making a total and complete fool of herself if it wasn’t absolutely necessary.

      “Yes,” Phyllis verified.

      Okay, it was going to be absolutely necessary. Damn, she hated that.

      By now, Barbie Firefighter Cristina was out-and-out grinning. Cutie Firefighter Aidan was smiling. Harry Potter look-alike Dustin was, too. Not Eeyore, though. Nope, Blake was far more serious than the others, she could already tell, though she’d have sworn there was some amusement shining in his gaze.

      Zach was either wiser, or maybe he simply had more control, but his lips weren’t curved as he watched her. Quiet. Aware. Speculative.

      Sexy as hell, damn him. Fine. Seemed she had a lot to prove to everyone.

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