Fighting the Flames (Firefighter Romance #1)(15)




If only she could have that one moment of stupidity back. Just crawl back into bed with him and forget these last three years ever happened. She sighed. What was it her dad used to say—coulda, woulda, shoulda. She knew she could never call him, he probably hated her by now. Plus, she was committed to a single life. It was the only guarantee not to get hurt.

Although the wine helped, she still ached and her throat was getting worse. NyQuil was mostly alcohol anyway, so it shouldn’t really be a problem to take a nightly dose. She only had a few more pictures to look through anyway, she could do that in the morning. Then, all that would be left is to choose the winners and print them out. That would be easy, so she tossed back a dose of the nighttime-achy-sniffly-stuffy-head-and-something-else medicine.

Suddenly, all the lights flicker and then go black. Luckily the laptop was still glowing from its battery. She reached for her phone and after tapping a button, a radiant beam magically lit the way as she walked to the kitchen. Hmm… where did Lisa stow the candles and matches? She had no idea and spent several minutes searching through every drawer, her four hundred dollar cellular flashlight a fairly decent source of illumination.

Finally, she found the matches along with a nice thick candle and took them to the coffee table, breathing in the vanilla fragrance as she lit it. She yawned, the alcohol and NyQuil kicking in, and curled back onto her comfortable sofa, stretching the recliner all the way back, pulling the computer onto her lap.

She yawned again, promising herself she’d go to bed in a few moments. She clicked on the final folder and sighed… more photos of her time with Ryan at the beach. Closing her eyes, she blocked his beautiful face from view. She jerked herself awake a few moments later, unable to believe she fell asleep.

She clicked again and felt her eyes close. Just a minute… she’ll just rest her eyes for a moment. Jessie surrendered to the weight that was pressing against her eyelids and felt herself begin to dream…

The strap of her gown slipped from her shoulder as the handsome firefighter pulled her to his chest. She curled her hands around his neck, hanging on to him tightly; he lifted her as if she weighed no more than a child. Her skin felt hot, feverish and she wondered why he was wrapping her so tightly in a fleece blanket. She was burning up, even her lungs were on fire. She tried to shout, cry, anything… but couldn’t.

He began to move, breaking into a run just as the roof behind them started to collapse. She held tighter and lifted her head, trying to see where he was taking her next. She closed her eyes, shutting out the acrid smoke as well as her surroundings. She now wished she hadn’t seen the way he was carrying her… it was directly into the depths of hell.





Chapter 10


Jessie sat in the back of an ambulance, oxygen mask on her face, and watched helplessly as flames engulfed her house and everything in it. It was surreal to watch everything she owned burn to the ground—every piece of clothing, every photograph, every book, all of her furniture—everything—including her great grandmother’s bureau that had been in the family longer than she’d been alive. Her entire life had been reduced to a pile of smoldering black rubbish. Her face crumbled with that thought and her shocked outer shell finally cracked. Tears streamed down her face and she didn’t even try to hide them. What was the point? If she wasn’t allowed to cry now, in the face of almost dying, being homeless and without a single possession, then the entire world could kiss her ass.

She took a deep breath, choked on a sob, and began to laugh. Not more than a week ago, Jessie was considering moving to a new town, starting over where no one knew her, where she could pursue her love of photography and not be teased by her family for “chasing a dream that would land her in the poor house.” She’d been torn on the decision. It wouldn’t be easy to leave her family, her job, her home, but the urge to move on was so strong. She’d prayed for a sign, a signal of what to do. Never in a million years had she expected God to give her such a blaring sign—a burning bush, so to speak. Staring at the chaos around her, it appeared as though her decision had been made for her.

“How are you, Jessie?” Bill asked.

She removed the oxygen mask, looked up at her landlord, and smiled feebly. “It could be worse, I suppose.” She still couldn’t believe she didn’t hear the fire alarm. The Nyquil she’d taken had knocked her out cold. In fact, she barely remembered someone rushing in and hauling her out of the door. If the fireman hadn’t risked his own life, she would’ve burned to death along with everything she owned. So, yes, things definitely could’ve been much worse.


“You’re lucky nosey Miss Philips called the fire department.”

“I’ll be sure to thank her.” Jessie looked around at the chaos and wondered which of the two dozen firemen had been responsible for saving her life. She wanted to thank him.

“Do you have someplace you can go for the night?”

Jessie nodded. “I’ll go to my sister’s house. She’ll be happy to let me stay there until I find another place to rent.”

“My brother-in-law, Jim, has some rental property nearby. Just over in Bowen County, Silver Creek area.”

She shivered at the name of the little town. “That’s perfect. Thank you, Bill.” Silver Creek was just a few miles up the road from where she currently lived. Not exactly the clean slate she was looking for, but it was a start. She could get her feet back under her at least.

Leslie Johnson's Books