The Fireman Who Loved Me by Jennifer Bernard

You’re even more beautiful in person, and you’re the hottest anchor on TV.”
    Nelly gave a dry little cough. “I’m awfully thirsty.”
    “Oh sure, ma’am, my bad. I get kinda carried away sometimes. I’ll show you more about the rigs later. Come on and meet the others!”
    They followed him down a narrow hall, then turned left toward a large common room.
    “That’s the training room up ahead,” said Stud. “At least that’s what it’s called officially. We call it the TV room. Workout room’s around the corner. This is where we sleep during our shifts. We work twenty-four hours on, twenty-four hours off, twenty-four on, then get four days off. Sometimes it feels like we live here. ”
    Looking back over her shoulder, Melissa saw a series of small, cell-like rooms with beds. Did Brody sleep in one of those? The thought made her shiver.
    The training room contained comfortable couches, armchairs, and an enormous TV set mounted on the wall. It gave on to a large kitchen with a long table lined with two benches. Several firemen were kicking back watching a football game— what else? thought Melissa. One man stood at the stove, cooking, and another was busy laying out paper plates and handing out sodas.
    The excitable Stud burst out talking as soon as he stepped into the room. “Look who came to dinner, guys!”
    A roomful of heads turned and then snapped in a general double take. The firemen who were sitting down leaped to their feet. Everyone gaped at the fiery beacon of Ella. She was red meat before a pack of hungry dogs, a red flag before a herd of bulls. It wasn’t just the fact that Ella was a semi-celebrity, thought Melissa, watching the scene. It was the way she’d dressed, like a cartoon figure of lust, created to appeal to the most primitive part of the male brain.
    “Ella Joy! . . . From Channel Six . . . We watch you every night . . . The Sexy Side of the News! . . . You are the bomb . . . You read the news better than anybody . . . Can’t you get rid of that jerk who’s always talking over you . . . It’s Ella Joy, dude! Right here, in our station! Wait’ll the 5s hear about this.”
    Ella Joy stood laughing, soaking it in like a hummingbird feeding on sugar water. This was the kind of moment she lived for, and she looked so delighted, Melissa didn’t begrudge it to her at all. Nelly, on the other hand . . . Nelly quivered with fury, muttering a word Melissa sincerely hoped was not “tramp.”
    She scanned the group with superhuman speed, her heart racing.
    No Brody. Disappointment formed a hard lump in her throat. So maybe she had been counting on seeing him here. It was better this way. She could concentrate on her secret mission of getting the Bachelor Firemen to come on the news. As soon as the noise died down a bit, she broke in. “Hi everyone, it’s so nice of you to invite us. This is Nelly McGuire and I’m her granddaughter, Melissa. Is Ryan Blake here?”
    “Hoagie! Get your butt out here!”
    A vision stepped out of the kitchen. Melissa went actually, literally breathless as he ambled with a loose-hipped, relaxed stride toward them. Those eyes . . . bluer than a sunny summer sky . . . those perfect features . . . that sexy walk. It felt as if time had stopped . . . as if the world slowed down to admire him as he passed. Dazed, Melissa watched him make his way along the benches, and suddenly she felt deep sympathy for Fred. If she had a hose, it would have slipped right through her fingers. The closer he got to them, the more breathtaking he looked, and when he finally stood before them, Melissa could have sworn she heard a chorus of heavenly angels crooning overhead. But wasn’t she supposed to be mad at Ryan, who had refused to show up for his date with Nelly?
    Ryan took Nelly’s hand in both of his. “I’m so pleased to meet you, Miz McGuire, and I want to say how sorry I am about the other night. I just hope I can make it up to you tonight with