Into The Flames (Firehouse Fourteen Book 4) by Lisa B. Kamps Page A

her passenger. "And why do you keep saying things like that?"
    "Like what?"
    "Like 'district' and 'first-due'. You said that earlier. I don't know what that means."
    "It means just what I said. We're in the city now, out of my district."
    "District for what?"
    "For the fire department."
    "What fire department?"
    He blinked, a slow lowering of his lids that did nothing to hide the exasperation shining so clearly in his eyes. "The fire department where I work." His words were slow and clipped, like he was struggling to find patience. She looked at him, surprised.
    "You work?"
    "What the—? Yes I work. What the hell? What did you think I did?"
    Melanie shrugged. "I'm not really sure. You're always home. At least, home when normal—I mean, other—people are usually working. And you're in and out at all hours. I didn't think you worked."
    "Well I do. I'm a firefighter. A driver."
    "You mean a chauffeur?"
    "No, I mean a damn driver. I drive the engine to calls, work the pump, get the water onto the red stuff. A driver." He snorted, shaking his head. "A chauffeur. You have got to be kidding me. Do me a favor, don't say that to any of the guys tonight."
    "What guys?"
    "The guys from work. Go down two blocks and make a left."
    Melanie jerked the steering wheel and shot into the left lane. "Why would I say anything to the people who work with you? Are we going to your firehouse later?"
    "No, you'll see them at the game."
    "I will?"
    Dale turned in his seat, his gaze steady and just a little confused. "Yeah. That's who we're going to the game with. It's a shift outing. Who the hell did you think was going to be there?"
    "I don't know that I gave it any thought, to be honest. Your sister and her boyfriend—"
    "I'd hope so, since he plays for the Banners."
    Melanie ignored him, even though she wanted to ask a million questions. He played hockey? Professionally? He didn't seem like a professional athlete. At least, not like she imagined. He had seemed nice, although he had looked to be a little accident prone, with all his cuts and bruises.
    "Who else?"
    "Hm?
    "Who else did you think was going to be there?"
    "Well you, obviously. I think your sister possibly said some other friends but I'm not totally sure because I wasn't paying as much attention as I should because I—"
    "Enough, I get it. This is where you want to turn."
    Melanie nodded then aimed the car through the intersection. Horns blared around them and she didn't understand why, just like she didn't understand the sudden paling of her passenger's face.
    He straightened in the seat then gave her an odd look. "You, uh, you didn't think this was like a date or something, did you?"
    "What? OhmyGod, of course not! No, not at all. The thought never crossed my mind. I wouldn't have agreed to go if that was the case."
    "Because going on a date with me is that repulsive?"
    "Of course not! I never said that. I would never even think that—"
    "So you'd enjoy going on a date with me." He said it like he was stating fact, not asking a question. Her eyes widened and she shook her head, strands of hair getting caught in her mouth. She swiped at them with her hand and shook her head again.
    "That's not what I said!"
    "Not in so many words—"
    "Not in any words!"
    "—but that's what you meant."
    "It is not! It is totally not. Not even close. How could you even think that—"
    "Turn right up at the light then look for the parking garage on your left."
    Melanie tightened her hands around the steering wheel, wondering for a brief fleeting second how they would feel tightened around his neck. Horror filled her at the thought. She had never contemplated murder before. Never! The man was intolerable, totally intolerable, forcing her to think things she had never thought before, to feel things she didn't want to feel. Just look at what he'd done to her painting, what emotions he'd forced her to unleash on those poor blank canvases.
    "Left. I said left. Right there. No, stop. Holy shit."
    Melanie