Page 5 of Where There’s Smoke (Fire House Omegas #2)

Elliot

M y pack mates were losing their ever-loving minds. Ever since Samson and I had gone to Station Sixteen to help them out a few months ago—while Walker was on goddamn bonding leave—he and Fitz had apparently decided that taking in a stray omega was the way to true love.

The time I had available for shit like that was next to none.

I wasn't a monster; I wanted an omega as much as the others did.

We had gone on dates and even dated several sweet girls for a few weeks here and there.

Unfortunately, most of them struggled with the nature of our work, which was understandable.

We worked odd hours and weren't always available.

It was one of the downsides of being a firefighter.

Otherwise, we all loved the job, deep down.

The adrenaline, the exercise, the being outside, and the helping people were all so rewarding.

I was perfectly content with living my life as simply rewarding.

I wasn’t about to go looking for an omega.

If it was meant to happen, it would. The others needed to chill.

With a sigh, I sat down at my desk. Although Sixteen was larger than our station, ours was a bit more modern after a remodel a few years ago, so all our walls sparkled, and the appliances were sleek and well-maintained.

It was nice to work somewhere you knew was clean and functional, and then my mind drifted back to how the omega had been living in that run-down rescue.

“I’m going to go grab a shower. I’ll get you my report after,” Fitz said as he leaned on my doorframe, stretching lazily.

Nothing felt better than a hot shower after a fire. Thankfully, I had a private bathroom and could get through a few files before hopping in and getting clean. My skin was itching from all the soot, and the dried sweat was making the grime stick to me.

“Good. Make sure Samson gets me his as well, especially since he’s the one who actually went into the building. Without breathing gear, I might add…”

Fitz smirked and shrugged. “He was worried about the omega.”

“You don't even know if she really is an omega. Rune seemed pretty adamant that she’s a beta.” I had called the firefighter from Station Sixteen after we’d arrived on the scene and left a message that Melody was okay.

When I’d finally checked my phone after we returned to the station, I had found thirteen missed calls from him.

It was understandable that he was worried about his friend, so I had called him back and assured him that she was alive and well.

Rune had even offered to temporarily take in any bunnies that needed rehoming.

“Dude, you didn't get close to her, but I assure you, that scent was 100% omega and far better than anything I've smelled in a long time. You really should have agreed to meet her.”

“No, because I know for a fact you and Samson would have been trying to convince me that she needed to stay here. I know Walker is a good man and willing to give up his space, but I happen to quite like having a private bathroom. It's the one part of all this goddamn paperwork that pays off.”

“While I'm pretty sure they ended up sharing the bathroom, considering they shared a lot of things”—he waggled his eyebrows at me—“I’m fairly certain he was rather attached to his bathroom as well, and look at him now.”

I snorted, shaking my head. “Fitz, I love you, man, but you are living in a fantasy world. Just because it worked out for Station Sixteen does not mean that taking in the first stray we find means we're going to find an omega.”

“I mean, it can't be worse than that girl we dated last month who was obsessed with teapots and those freaky baby dolls.”

I shuddered. That was a weird one. I think we actually dodged a bullet there, not that teapots were bad, but the dolls…they had dead eyes, and I’d never liked them.

“Go write your freaking report, so I can shower,” I instructed, shaking my head.

“Yes, Daddy!” Fitz threw me a smirk before leaving.

If any of my other firefighters called me “Daddy,” I would have had them in disciplinary action so quickly that their heads would spin. But for some reason, Fitz seemed to get away with everything. Fucker .

Once he was out of sight, I pulled myself to the bathroom, quickly taking a shower to get the worst of the grime off me.

The hot water felt incredible on my sore muscles, and I just stood there under the spray for a while, absorbing the heat and enjoying a mini massage.

I couldn’t leave it there, though. The filth was still clinging to my skin in places, so I reached for the bottle of shower gel and squirted a massive glob into my palm.

Rubbing it everywhere, I made sure to take care of the worst spots and then rinsed off.

I still had to finish my reports, get more started for the clean-up people who’d address the wreckage of the burned building, and set a reminder to check with the shelters about all those animals we’d sent their way.

With a sigh, I turned off the water, begrudgingly heading back to the office in a clean shirt and pants.

The stack of investigation files on my desk beckoned me, but I wanted nothing more than to toss them all in the trash.

When I had started at the academy, arson investigation had been intriguing, but now it was starting to feel like a prison.

Mostly because it was far less catching the bad guy and much more reading printouts and running into dead end after dead end.

Paperwork. So. Much. Fucking. Paperwork.

I needed to find a way to balance my work with my personal life better. All I did was eat, work, and exercise. Every now and again, I spent time with my pack, but even then, I was usually exhausted.

Picking up the file on top, I flicked through it, eyeing what the team had photographed from tonight’s fire at the shelter.

“Fuck,” I cursed to myself. Someone had forgotten to take photos of the ignition point for me to check.

Part of what I did for every fire was determine if the fire was accidental or arson.

We strongly suspected this particular blaze had started because of an old microwave in the break room of the shelter, but I still needed to study the photos to confirm as much.

So, without the photos, I was somewhat lost.

I could have easily asked one of the guys to go back and take some pictures of the place, but I knew they were all exhausted after the fire, so I grabbed my jacket and slumped out of the office.

I didn't even bother to say goodbye to the other guys; I simply texted my pack to let them know what I was doing.

I didn't want them feeling like they needed to help and offer to come with me. I needed some alone time.

Samson had been exhausted lately, with all the late-night shifts he'd been doing, and Fitz may have acted like a ball of energy, but he also got tired regularly, like a normal human being.

I was the boss. Sometimes that meant the not-so-fun jobs fell to me. And again, taking a minute to be alone sounded nice.

The fire had long since been put out, and it was almost light when I pulled up at what remained of the shelter.

The remaining structure was still smoking slightly, which was normal, and we’d have people checking on the site every so often over the next few days to ensure it didn’t start back up.

That was rare, but better safe than sorry.

I scanned the scene again. It was a hell of a fire. Electrical malfunctions were responsible for a lot of problems, and this one had done a fucking number on the place. There was no way it was going to be salvageable.

I felt a twinge of remorse about that one.

Rune had mentioned that the beta woman had been wonderful with the bunnies and helping him get used to them.

It was a shame that someone who was clearly good at their job and enjoyed doing it was now short a building.

Not that any fire wasn’t a bummer. Sure, there were people guilty of arson, those looking for an insurance break, but those people were few and far between.

Most of the time, it was innocent, hard-working people whose homes and businesses went up in smoke.

Hopefully she had insurance.

“Okay, photos of the break room.” I was careful as I stepped through the debris and photographed a bit of everything before reaching the ignition source. “Yup, shit fucking microwave.”

Snapping away, I paid attention to the scorch marks along the wall.

Daylight was only just starting to break, so I had to use my flashlight to see everything I needed to.

It had all the classic signs of an electrical fire, and I could see the remains of shoddy wiring that had been a fire waiting to happen.

Only, the ignition point looked a little too large—like it had been helped. Frowning to myself, I took a few more photos. I couldn’t be sure, but this was potentially arson.

Damn. I shook my head, ready to leave and head back to the office, when I noticed something through the window of the break room.

I almost missed it, but standing where I was, the reflection of the streetlamp off the car’s headlight shone right in my eyes.

There was a car parked in the lot just outside the building.

I had been so focused on getting into the building, I hadn’t noticed it as I walked in.

This was effectively a crime scene until I said it wasn’t, and whoever was out there had no fucking reason to be squatting in the rescue’s lot. Grumbling to myself, I shook my head and stomped outside, going straight for the driver’s side window.

“Hey, you can’t park here. You?—”

My words cut off, freezing my knuckles on the glass as I stopped knocking, when I watched the small woman inside the car jump at the sound of my voice. It was her, the owner of this rescue.

As she met my eyes, her stare went wide.

The woman fumbled to turn on the car and roll down the window, clutching her arm to her chest as she sat up.

When the window was down, a burst of fragrance left the cab, the warm air oozing out as cold air rushed in.

It smelled like melon, sweet, ripe melon that had my mouth watering in seconds.

What the hell?

“Oh, god. I’m sorry. Am I not supposed to be here at all? I mean, this is my place, and I?—”

“You were sleeping in the car.” My tone was iron, giving no room for argument. “What the hell are you doing sleeping in your car? You informed the others that you had a place to stay. Did you…did you lie to them?”

Shock played over her face, but annoyance quickly replaced it. “You’re one of the firefighters? Where I sleep is my business, and please, lower your voice. You’re scaring her.”

“Her?”

But before I could ask more, Melody held up the tiny puppy in her arms. She’d apparently taken it with her.

My jaw flexed, irritation drilling into my brain.

There was a slew of supplies next to her on the passenger seat, which meant this woman was planning on caring for the puppy while she, what? Lived in her fucking car?

Absolutely not.

“Get out. You’re not sleeping in a car with a dog.”

“Excuse me?” Melody reeled back, and just then, the puppy stirred, growling lightly as its sleep was interrupted. “I’m not just leaving somewhere with you. Do you think I’m insane?”

The rumpled mound of fur nuzzled in deeper into Melody’s arms, trying to get away from the noise, and I could see it shaking slightly as the cold wind hit it. The woman, who I was beginning to think really was an omega, tried to stifle her own shiver.

“No. But you’re not staying in here. Exit the vehicle. We’re leaving.”

Melody glared. “Look, buddy, you can’t just?—”

But I didn't have time to argue, so I reached inside and unlocked the door, pulling it open. Strings of curses and complaints left the omega’s mouth as I scooped her out of the car.

Carrying her around to the other side, I opened the passenger door and reached in for the bag of supplies while balancing Melody on my leg, quickly turning the key so the car powered off.

“What are you doing?!” She squirmed, and I was damn tempted to smack her on the ass to settle her down for a second. “You can’t just kidnap me!”

“Kidnap seems like a stretch, Melody. Now hold still, or risk getting dropped on your ass. I’m taking you to the station, and there’s nothing you can say that’ll change my mind. So, deal with it.”

Melody gaped again, but she didn’t argue this time, resigning herself to accepting the situation. Good. Because there’s no way I’m letting this omega sleep in a damn car.