Page 22 of Her Fire Master (Master Me #5)

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I literally can’t stand being at work without Blaze. Especially knowing it’s my fault he’s gone.

The rest of the crew is as freaked out as well. No one knew his absence was coming, and everyone wants to know what the hell is going on. Especially because the new captain is a doofus.

I mean, he’s fine. Whatever. He’s just not Blaze.

“Captain MacKenzie and I swapped stations,” Captain Elmore tells us when we all show up. “He’s over at the 151st and I’m here with you all.”

“Well, why ?” James demands.

Elmore says, “Personal reasons,” and trucks off for the office.

“What the fuck does that mean?” Rocket says.

I spin around and head to my room without saying anything, but I don’t last long there. Everything about this firehouse makes me ache for Blaze.

I find my way back out to the hallway where Rocket, Scott and James are still standing, discussing Blaze’s absence. “It’s because of me,” I blurt. My cheeks heat when they all stop talking and stare at me. “We, um... got involved and he figured it wasn’t a good idea for us to work together.”

If I thought they weren’t sure they wanted me on the team before, it’s clear now. Their looks make me want to sink into the ground and stay there.

I swallow. “But, um, I’m going to leave so he can come back. This is his station. He shouldn’t have to leave it.”

The guys still stare at me like I have five heads and some Medusa-like snakes spinning from them.

“Bullshit,” James spits. “That’s total bullshit.”

“I know—I’m sorry, and?—”

“No, I mean why can’t you both just work here?”

Now I’m the one who goes silent. Do they actually want me to stay? And this is from James?

“Yeah, I don’t see the big deal,” Scott concurs.

Rocket bobs his head. “Me neither.”

I rub my lips together, formulating a plan. “Well, let’s go get him back. We’ll drive the truck over with Elmore and demand a swap.”

The guys relax into grins. “Sounds like a plan to me,” Scott says. “I’ll go tell the captain.”

On the way over, the guys pepper me with questions. “So are you two in a fight or something? Over who leaves here?”

I keep my eyes on the road, putting my lights on when traffic sucks and we can’t get through. “Sorta, yeah. It was more than that, but yeah.”

“So is this gonna be the make up? Like we’re all gonna witness it?” Rocket asks.

My cheeks grow warm. “Shut up. I’m not going to French kiss him in front of you or anything.”

“Well I was just thinking we should go in with the big guns. Like you should buy some roses and we can set up the ladder so you can go and get him Pretty Woman style,” Rocket says.

I laugh.

“Yes!” James says. “You have to. Captain will never live it down for the rest of his career.”

“Um, wouldn’t that be reason enough not to do it?

Plus, making things public would ensure they never let us work together, no matter what,” I say, even though I’ve already decided to go to the training Blaze signed me up for.

I think his instincts for me were actually dead-on, I was just too busy being pissed to realize it.

“Yeah, that’s true,” Scott agrees. “Okay, no ladder and roses. We’ll just go in like it’s a kidnapping. We’ll throw a bag over his head and wrestle him out.”

“No, no, no wait,” James exclaims. “First we truss Elmore up and then we offer him like a hostage exchange.”

“Perfect,” I agree. I glance over my shoulder and find them all smiling, including Elmore, who is offering his wrists up to be bound.

We pull up in front of their station and get out, shoving our hostage in front of us while we walk, gang-style into the open bay.

“Your captain for our captain, right now,” Scott yells. “Unless you want us to throw him in the Hudson.”

Chuckles greet us. Their crew saunters out, including Blaze who appears, scratching his handsome jaw. His gaze dances over me, and when I wink, a broad grin creases his face.

We pull the paper bag—all we could find—off Captain Elmore’s head and I attempt to put it over Blaze’s, which forces me to jump like a little kid.

Fortunately, Blaze lowers down to make it easier for me, his blue-eyed gaze burning into mine, lighting a fire in my low-belly, a tingling between my legs.

His gaze promises retribution, play—so much more.

He even holds his hands out and we wrap a rubber tube—our makeshift rope—around his wrists. Then I take one of his elbows and Rocket takes the other and we escort him back to the fire truck.

Just as we get a call.

I flip on the sirens and we’re off—no time to hash things out or celebrate, just the team, reunited, doing what we do: save lives and put out fires.