The Last of The Red Hot Firefighters (Red Hot Reunions Book 1) Read Online Free

turned and stomped back down the catwalk, barely able to hear the polite applause or the throbbing bass line of the music over the roar of his own blood rushing in his ears.
    He hadn’t been this angry in…
    Hell, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this angry.

CHAPTER FIVE
    Jake
    By the time Jake escaped through the curtain to the backstage area, his hands were balled so tight his knuckles were cracking.
    He wanted to hit something, to slam his fists into the punching bag at the station until his hands were bruised. Instead, he shrugged on his T-shirt and sweater and stalked over to the snack table, pouring himself a cup of soda and doing his best not to squeeze the red Solo cup into plastic splinters as he took a drink.
    “You all right?” Jamison asked as he approached, his brother’s tone leaving no doubt he knew exactly who had purchased Jake for the month.
    “I’m fine,” Jake said, crunching a piece of ice viciously between his teeth.
    “Who was that chick? Do I need to kick her ass for you?” Faith asked, coming to stand next to Jake, propping her hands on her hips in a way that made it clear that if Jake gave the word, she was ready to rumble.
    Faith was the lone female member of the SFD and like a little sister to Jake and Jamison. Her uncle and their dad had worked together for years, and both families boasted three straight generations of firefighters.
    Faith had grown up at the firehouse, but that hadn’t stopped some of the guys from giving her shit when she first joined the department. Jake had stood up for her from day one, a fact that had earned him Faith’s undying loyalty. There was no doubt in his mind that the spunky blonde with the killer right hook was absolutely serious about smashing Naomi’s face in.
    Too bad this was a situation neither of them could solve with their fists.
    “No, it’s fine,” Jake said, ignoring the skeptical look Jamison shot his way. “I can handle Naomi.”
    “Are you sure? Because I will pound her for you, J. I have no problem with that.” Faith narrowed her brown eyes, managing to look menacing despite the fact she had the kind of face seen on billboards for apple pie and wholesome country living. “Anyone responsible for making another freaking cooking show for my mom to make me watch on Sundays deserves to be roughed up.”
    This time, Jake’s smile wasn’t forced. “I’ve never watched her show.”
    “Good. Because it’s stupid,” Faith said, grabbing a handful of corn chips from the bowl on the table.
    “Are you sure you should eat those?” Jamison asked in his usual teasing voice. “You have to go look sexy in a few minutes. Wouldn’t want to get chip belly.”
    Faith turned her glare on Jamison. “I don’t get chip belly.” She shoved a handful of chips into her mouth and crunched as she spoke. “And even if I did, I’d still be hot lady firefighter meat. I’ll probably go for more money than you did.”
    Jamison raised a dark brow. “Oh, yeah? You want to bet on that?”
    “Yeah, I do,” Faith said, wiping her hands on her jeans as she backed away from the table. “But I told your daddy I wouldn’t encourage your gambling problem, so…” She shrugged and tightened the plaid shirt knotted below her ribs before lifting her hands into the air.
    “I don’t have a gambling—” Jamison broke off with a laugh as Faith stuck out her tongue and turned her back on him, sliding into line behind Brandon, a newbie to the department who, at the moment, looked more like he might vomit on the catwalk instead of strut across it.
    Normally, Jake would have gone over and tried to put the kid at ease, but right now, he had no ease to spare. The reality of being forced to spend several hours in Naomi Whitehouse’s company every Friday for the next month was settling around his neck like a boa constrictor determined to squeeze the life out of him.
    “You could tell Mitzy you can’t do it,” Jamison said.
    Jake’s little