Caught in the Flames Read Online Free

hide my face but his eyes widen slightly and the way they heat from under the bill of his hat catches my breath. The grin that spreads across his features next could be classified as shit eating. He turns and strides out of view.
    “Nice, Callie,” I mutter to myself, then snatch my cell from my back pocket and shoot a group text to Alicia and Jill.
    Me: Emergency! Hot guys. Bacon. Eggs. Potatoes. My house, 1 hour!
    Jill: This qualifies as an emergency how?
    Me: Firemen. The firemen are making us breakfast!
    Alicia: Wow! Fast much? U already hook up with 1?
    Alicia: Save 1 for me! I want my own!
    Me: No. They’re doing some fundraiser for the needy. The community needs us!
    Jill: I’m a maybe. I have shit to do.
    Alicia: Let me finish cleaning my apartment.
    Me: No bailing or lame excuses! You have to come. I need you.
    I lock my screen and pocket my phone. Excitement bubbles in my belly. It rumbles. Okay, so maybe it’s mostly hunger. I glance down at my half-filled cart. Crap. My list still has a few items unchecked. I better finish soon if I want to get to that breakfast. My morning plan to food prep for the week is abandoned a little too easily at the thought of overindulging in carbs, fat, and firemen.

I love breakfast.
    I’ve always loved the first meal of the day, but on this sunny morning my gratitude sighs at an all-time high. Top forty music plays across the parking lot with the drone of the generator humming in the background. Six long folding tables surrounded by chairs fill the south end of the blacktop, and families and neighbors sit about. The joyful sounds of chatter and laughter float through the air.
    Center stage, though, the guys man the propane grills, flipping pancakes and bacon while wearing smiles and those glorious uniforms. Navy pants, T-shirts, and logoed ball caps. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a better sight.
    “Le sigh,” Jill gushes at my right. “Good looking and kind hearted? You know what makes this better?”
    “Big hoses,” Alicia says from my left.
    I snort. Of course that’s the exact moment Chase decides to look up. Be cool, Callie. He can’t hear a snort from all the way across the parking lot. I raise my hand and wave. He grins back and raises his spatula.
    “Bring the bacon to mama,” Alicia says, gives me a little push, and keeps stride. I imagine we draw the attention of the cooking crew, strutting through the lot in our intentionally constructed outfits. I imagine, because I can’t actually know. I keep my sunglass covered eyes focused at the ground so I don’t trip.
    We didn’t want to appear too obvious, but Alicia insisted there be lots of skin. To rein them in, of course. We’re all dressed in casual shorts—each wearing a different color and cut—paired with sleeveless tops and strappy heels.
    Jill, quite often the voice of reason in my life, wears a muted pink lace top and white shorts. Her blonde tresses are combed long and her tan skin almost matches the nude of her shoes.
    Alicia, on the other hand, is all black everything—hair, nails, eye liner, shoes, and blouse. Except for her shorts, which blaze a fiery red. She looks sinful, and even with the tallest heels she’s shorter than either me or Jill.
    I’m in my black and white patterned shorts and white top, the one that dips low to showcase the girls but not too low to be mistaken for a night out earning at the club. My white and tan wedges keep my steps steady, even on this gravel lot. Alicia helped pile my curly brown locks into an effortless messy bun—in reality it took us twenty minutes to achieve the optimal look. I’m confident and sexy. Ready to hook myself a fireman.
    As we step closer I’m thankful for the shades as they hide my eyes and allow me to assess the man candy. And boy, how tasty they look. Though, as we conform to the line of people waiting on breakfast, my eyes land back on Chase. He’s dreamy and has an air of confidence and leadership. It’s attractive. He’s