Page 1 of Dueling Flames

Chapter 1

Lissa

The steady hum of the treadmills and the beat of our feet sounded through the small gym at Firehouse 99 in Chicago. Hawthorne “Thorne” Graves, my partner, insisted on running with me. Just one of his ideas for us to bond better at our captain’s request. Thorne slowly turned our run into a competition, and since it was raining, he had numbers to back up his nonsense.

“Come on, Lissa,” he said. “I’m going faster than you. I’ll reach five miles before you.”

“I’m not competing.”

“But it’s no fun if you don’t.”

Thorne smiled as he kept his pace on the treadmill. My patience was running thin. We’d been partners for almost two years, and he had to do everything I did. We worked the engine truck or pumper, which held most of the hoses and a shit ton of water.

He shook his head back and forth, sending his sweat everywhere, including on my arm. The move made his black hair stick to his forehead, not quite reaching his eyes.

“Gross. Keep your sweat to yourself.” I tried to wipe it off my arm as I ran.

He laughed. “Let’s see who can squat more after this.”

“No. You know better dan to do dat when we’re working.” Whenever I was annoyed, my Chicago accent came out. And Thorne heard it more than anyone.

General workouts were fine, but testing one’s maximum strength and then fighting fires could lead to injuries.

“Tomorrow, then.”

“Why would I wanna see your face tomorrow?”

He laughed. He always laughed. Ever the optimist, he saw the good in everything and everyone. Like a damned golden retriever.

I glanced over and noticed he’d taken his shirt off. Damnit. The last thing I need is him without a shirt. The man might annoy me, but he was fine as hell. He had a uniformly tanned complexion, even during winter. No doubt his genetics, whatever they were. Not my business, but very nice to look at.

I noticed his shorts were riding up his thick thighs, and I had to look away. He was one pretty man, and then he’d open his mouth and ruin it.

His machine slowed, indicating he’d ended his five-mile run. “I’m going to get some water, then stretch.”

I didn’t respond as he wandered off. He came back while I was wiping down my equipment. I walked over to him because if I began stretching anywhere else, he’d move to join me.

“How can you touch your toes so easily?” he asked, his knees slightly bent as he touched the floor with his fingers.

“You’re doing better than before. Just keep stretching after you exercise.”

“You always say that. Maybe we should do yoga.”

I rolled my eyes, then changed positions to stretch the inside of my thighs. “Dat’s not necessary.”

“No, but it could be fun.”

The alarm bell sounded, indicating a call. We both jumped up and ran for the door.

“Come on, let’s beat the others to the call.”

I trailed behind him. Who exactly was he trying to impress?

Lissa

I jumped out of the fire truck as soon as Thorne stopped in front of the burning building. The two-story home looked as if the fire had been going for a while. As the first truck on the scene, Thorne and I got to work. Years of experience took over while I pulled hoses and supplies from the engine.

Thorne ran a hose from the truck with its water tank while I connected one to the fire hydrant located across the street. Our tank might hold close to 750 gallons of water, but it wouldn’t last long.