Vortex, page 2
“Then where will you guys sleep?”
“Doesn’t matter. Jensen’ll guard your door with the sword,” Royce said.
She smiled, and Casey’s stupid heart did a little flip. “Man, they issue swords at Firehouse 19? I didn’t get my own Halligan tool or ax.”
“You have nothing to worry about from any of us. We’re too beat up to short-sheet your bed. We just thought you’d like privacy,” Royce said.
“Don’t worry about me. I’m still the shiny happy rookie. I can sleep on this lovely treadmill if I clean this place up a little. You guys need the beds if you’re pulling a double.”
“I’m sure we can figure something else out,” Casey said in his best ‘don’t argue’ voice.
It would be a cold day in hell before Casey let her sleep in the gym.
“Yes, we’ll share the two beds. I’ll have to be careful because Casey’s a cuddler,” Royce teased and gave him a fake air kiss.
“I’m totally telling your girlfriend you steal the covers,” Casey threatened his friend since Royce seemed to believe making jokes at Casey’s expense was a good idea today. “We gonna shower or what? Why don’t you make yourself at home in the bunk room?”
He stomped out of the gym and headed to the locker room, fully aware he wasn’t acting like his normal self. Royce seemed to understand and didn’t say anything as they stripped down into the individual shower stalls. They’d fallen into a solid friendship since Casey transferred to 19 about four years ago—though they were definitely not THAT kind of friends. Casey was going to miss Royce and his quiet humor when his transfer went through.
Casey was soaping up when he asked Royce, “Was it necessary to raz on me like that? You can’t call another dude a cuddler.”
“Because you, my friend, got that look in your eyes again. Keep your hands, feet, and objects inside the car at all times.”
“I’m not dumb enough to make the same mistake twice. Do you have the Pert Plus?”
“This would be the fourth time, smarty pants,” Royce corrected him and tossed the green bottle over the divider.
“Learn how to do math. It was one girl. This would be girl two, which isn’t happening,” Casey said, decidedly not thinking about Bianca’s smile of good humor. She really was like a shiny penny, glowing with eagerness.
Probably eager in other ways.
No. He could NOT go there.
“You were with the first firefighter girl three times, remember? And see where it got you?”
There was the meat of the problem and the cause of the beatings and Casey’s cranky mood.
Casey had hooked up with a lady firefighter over at Firehouse 15, Erin Hudgens, a few times almost a year ago. While they hadn’t been super discreet, very few people outside of her firehouse and two or three guys at 19 had any clue. They had parted amicably, and he’d assumed he’d never hear much about Erin Hudgens beyond an occasional friendly wave if their paths crossed in the field.
Which was true up until last week. Things had been cool right until rumors started flying at the funeral. Firefighter Erin Hudgens had appeared overly close to the Fire Chief.
“You think it’s true? What everyone is saying?” Royce asked. “Is she sleeping with the Fire Chief?”
“I don’t know. There’s gotta be a logical explanation.” Casey didn’t want to believe Erin would sleep her way to the top. Until this week, Casey had respected Fire Chief Baker for his efforts to bring the CCFD into the modern era.
Now he didn’t know how to feel - other than pissed and frustrated.
“The most logical explanation is he’s ruined her career and she’s going to have to transfer to Portage County.” Royce wasn’t wrong, as the people at Firehouse 15 had been through grim times several times over. Royce had taken the side of the group who were judging their fire chief much more harshly than Erin.
Then again, plenty of men were judging Erin plenty harshly. At the bar, for example, a couple of guys from Firehouse 43 had asked if Casey thought a visit to Erin’s vagina was the best way to get a promotion. The team at 15 had not taken kindly to those words, and Casey had joined in the pummeling.
Because if the Fire Chief wasn’t going to protect her good name, Casey fucking was.
The guys at 19, not knowing what the fight was about, had joined Casey’s side immediately and without question.
Hence why the entire firehouse resembled crash test dummies.
“Only you, dude, would get the shit beat out of you over a chick you haven’t dated for nine months.”
“Eleven months,” Casey said. “Besides, you want me to start talking shit about Vandy? Can I call her Mandy?”
“You’re such a jerk. I’m going to miss your stupid head.” Royce had passed the lieutenant’s exam a few weeks ago, and if his promotion went through he expected to be transferred out.
“Yeah, I guess I’m going to be doing those extra equipment checks by myself.”
Royce was quiet for a couple seconds.
“Something wrong, Murphy? You slip and hit your head?” Casey grunted.
“You could leave too,” Royce said unexpectedly.
“Leave?” Casey echoed. This was interesting because each firehouse was generally its own family, and Royce had agonized over his decision to apply for lieutenant and be transferred out from 19.
“Yeah, leave. One of the things about funerals is that you get a bunch of people together who usually don’t hang out—provided they aren’t punching each other. No matter what happens, there’s some major shifts afoot.”
“There are?” Casey didn’t keep his ear to the ground, but apparently things changed for guys who were planning on being officers.
“They graduated like ten women. And I heard ten women for the Rescue Alpha program decided to go back into firefighting. No more paramedic-ing for them.”
“They want to go back to firefighting? I thought they had to train for like two years to get into the paramedic program.” The fire chief had recruited women from suburban firefighting programs to man (woman?) Rescue Alpha because the previous chief had fired them. Now every member of Rescue Alpha was a woman with dual firefighting and advanced paramedic training.
“Yeah, I guess it’s not for everyone.” Royce said.
“Say what you want about the Chief, we went from four women to almost fifty in a year,” Casey started and stopped.
What was he saying? It was okay to sleep with a subordinate if you got shit done? Or that it was fine Erin upgraded from the unranked Casey to the biggest dog in the Fire Department?
“Yeah. It was pretty smart of him.” Royce still didn’t sound very happy.
Casey took out a towel and wrapped it around his waist. “What do you mean, smart of him?”
Touching Erin Hudgens hadn’t been the smartest on Casey’s part, and certainly a cyanide pill for the Fire Chief.
“Look, I love that women can become firefighters. We had one sub in as lieutenant this past year, and she was great,” Royce said. “But the chief also leveraged attracting those women as an excuse to remodel the firehouses and give them women’s restrooms. But I guess you can’t have your cake and eat it too.”
“We’re not on the schedule to get remodeled till next year,” Casey pointed out that these new benefits weren’t applied to everyone equally.
“Yeah, we aren’t on the slate to be updated, so we’ll stay same old, same old. Which is exactly why you should transfer. I love our guys, but we’re complacent, too comfortable.”
Every word was true, but Casey liked the slower pace in general, and growled, “There’s nothing wrong with being comfortable.”
Royce was out, drying himself off. He was so different from the fresh-faced kid with a broken heart he’d been when they’d met after Casey’s transfer. Now he was a tattooed, experienced veteran prepared to climb the physical and metaphorical ladders of Cuyahoga Combined Fire Department. “My point is—you should think about moving. Don’t touch Rookie Luis though if you want to guarantee you can’t transfer to 33.”
“There’s sixty-four other stations. I’m sure I’ll find a place. Don’t worry. I’m staying far away from her,” Casey assured his friend. “Firehouse 15 is already out of my options since SHE’s there.”
“She-Who-Can’t-Be-Named?” Royce saids. “I doubt she’ll be at 15 much longer. The rumors alone’ll bench her. At a minimum, she’s going to spend months in admin or possibly quit. I can’t see any firehouse excusing her.”
“It doesn’t seem fair.” Casey found a clean uniform T-shirt, and they started dressing.
“Whoever said life is fair. Where is that written?” Royce quoted, being quite the movie afficionado. Casey was more of a history guy, whereas Royce watched, read, and memorized everything.
“Do you think Chief Baker is going to get fired?”
“I don’t know. Probably,” Royce said.
“He’ll have his pension no matter what. It’s her who’s going to suffer the most,” Casey said bitterly, belting on his pants. “Who will they replace him with?”.
“I’m sure Assistant Chief Cordova would be the interim. He’s been there the longest,” Royce guessed. They were fully dressed now. Royce had opted for the more official button-down uniform like what the rookie wore. “Let’s find the rookie.”
Chapter 3
His cute new rookie wasn’t in the bunk room, or the barn either. They split up to check the lounge and galley.
Casey found her in the gym, wearing considerably less than when they’d left her. Her uniform top was off, and her white tank top was damp, revealing a green, near-transparent sports bra. Her cheeks were flushed, a thin sheen of perspiration coated her skin, and she was on her knees, straining and panting.
“What are you doing?” Casey hissed.
How was he supposed stay chivalrous if his brain immediately snapped to images of bending her over the nearest bench?
She glanced up from her activity. “I’m scrubbing the floor.”
Casey commanded his cock to stop thinking about her. “Why are you scrubbing the floor?”
She stood up, dressed in a pair of very loose Firehouse 19 Physical Training shorts. “It doesn’t look like anyone has cleaned here in years. I mopped first, and now I’m scrubbing the floor with bleach.”
“It’s a gym. It’s supposed to be dirty.”
She shrugged, “I get that it’s a gym. However, the grime on the floor is going to gain a personality and start killing people. So a little bleach and some elbow grease will go a long way.”
She made a scrubbing motion with her hand that in no way reminded him of jerking off.
“You don’t have to do this,” he cut her off.
“It’s no problem. I’m a rookie, so I might as well clean. I hear it’s gonna be half my job for the first year. Besides, did you know the magazines I found stuck underneath one of the benches are old enough to vote?”
“They are?” That was news to Casey, who spent a considerable amount of time in the gym. He probably never looked at the floor.
“Yeah.” She bent down and grabbed a stack of magazines off the floor, and he did not notice her tank top, which must have been her undershirt, slide up her back. She had a little splay of stars tattooed on her right shoulder. “We have fitness magazines and Playboy. It’s time to toss them.”
“Oh.” He glanced at the top wrinkled Playboy where a blonde woman in shoulder pads plus high-cut swimsuit stared back at him. “What if the other guys were using them?”
Now he wished he’d said anything except that. Here he was trying not to equate scrubbing the floor and jerking off… by talking about jerking off.
“I usually wouldn’t get rid of anybody’s recreational material, but that is Christie Brinkley, and she’s a grandma now.”
“Okay, they have to go.” Casey didn’t want to dwell on that.
They both reached for the magazines and collided. Without thinking, he put his arms around her to steady her. Her body pressed flush against his, and he found himself staring into her light brown eyes. He needed to come up with a color for them. What browns were in the Crayola crayon box? Sepia, tumbleweed, burnt sienna, or was it raw sienna?
“I see you found her,” Royce said from the door.
“I can explain.” Casey jumped a good foot away from Bianca.
She nodded enthusiastically, unfazed. “We were both reaching for the Playboys and—”
“You’re not making this better,” Casey grumbled.
Royce cleared his throat, “Lieutenant told me there’s a storm rolling in, so I suggest we let her get showered in case we end up on generator power.”
“He means we cut off the hot water and the air conditioning to conserve power to the trucks,” Casey explained. “Our generator’s pretty old so we turn off everything else.”
“Unless you like your showers cold,” Royce commented, obviously enjoying making Casey feel like he’d got his hand caught in the firefighter-sex-cookie-jar again.
“Other people need a cold shower,” Casey muttered under his breath.
“Then I guess I’d better go do that.” She walked past them and turned back when they started following her. “I can shower by myself.”
“Sorry, Lieutenant says we have to come with you.” Royce said, nudging Casey after her.
“He did?” Casey hadn’t expected that. Their captain had taken the day off, and this shift’s lieutenant wasn’t known for his attention to detail.
“We don’t have women’s showers, so we’re supposed to close the bathroom while she’s in there and monitor the door to preserve her privacy,” Royce said. “Especially after this week.”
“What happened this week?”
“Nothing,” Casey barked.
She smiled again, shrugged, and went into the locker room.
“Are you going to stop doing that?” Casey pointed at Royce’s shit eating grin.
“Doing what?” Royce asked innocently.
“Acting like, I’m gonna lose control of myself and bang her the second I’m alone with her?”
“You’re not the one I’m worried about. I’m taken, and you already know the problems of touching her. It’s best the other guys, stop by here while she’s showering.”
Casey completely agreed with this plan. If he was having trouble as the usual resident nice guy, the other guys didn’t need to know her skin would be getting slick and wet, perfect for…
“Definitely a good idea,” Casey agreed begrudgingly, wishing his head didn’t keep wandering there, especially now that he knew how soft her body felt in his arms.
“Umm, do I need to worry about you?” Royce asked.
“Why would you worry about me?”
“Well. She’s kind of your type.”
“I have a type?” Casey asked, trying to keep an eye out for anyone of their fellow firefighters trying to glimpse the new rookie. Word would spread fast if they weren’t cautious. “Firefighters?”
“Fun athletic women who go toe-to-toe with the guys. You met She-Who-Can’t-Be-Named drinking her team under the table.”
“She was an exception,” Casey said. “Independent is nice.”
“Yet you started a bar fight over her honor? And you’re guarding this door?”
“Because I should,” Casey stated shortly, wishing those points weren’t hitting quite so close to home.
Chivalry. Freaking chivalry.
Chapter 4
Bianca had finished her shower when she discovered a fatal miscalculation.
Calling her miscalculation fatal was probably an overkill, but the embarrassment would be pretty powerful.
It wasn’t her hair; she’d kept that pinned up and out of the spray of water—though she’d definitely be stocking quality hair products at her future station.
It was worse than that by far…
“Hey, guys.” She poked her head out the door in her towel to speak to her sentinels. “I have a problem.”
“Yes?” Royce Murphy answered since Casey was facing the other direction and using his larger body to block the hallway from anyone possibly seeing her.
“I forgot my change of backup clothes. I have my uniform but not the stuff to go under it.”
Behind him, Casey coughed, and Royce ground his teeth together. “Can’t you put your old ones on?”
“I would, but I threw them in the laundry with the rest of the sweaty guy clothes by mistake. Sorry about that. Cleanliness is next to godliness,” she suggested.
“And I’m in hell,” Casey said off to the side. “I mean, we’ll wash the stuff and find you something else for now.”
She ducked back into the bathroom, and, a few minutes later, Casey knocked on the door. He handed her some safety pins, a pair of boxers, and what appeared to be a sheet they had cut into lengths.
“Will this work?” he asked.
“It’s very Bridgerton,” she said.
“I was thinking more Shakespeare in Love,” he said.
“You watched that?”
“Obviously.”
Despite his brisk words, he had his eyes fixed on her and she couldn’t help admire him back. Tall, blonde and intermittently surly . . .
“What is it with you two? Go get dressed,” Royce said.
She hesitated. “About the binding of the boobs. I’m not shaped like Gwyneth so it’s going to take another person to help me get the puppies under control.”
Royce turned an interesting shade of red to match his hair. “Casey, you’re going in to help. I’ll give you five minutes. I’ll guard the door. Please keep it professional.”
“Why me? You’re worried that she and I are going to…” Casey protested.
“Besides your long-running fascination with lady firefighters, I would have a hard time explaining this to Vandy. ‘Yes, my lovely girlfriend. Today I wrapped up the boobs of a new rookie.’ I like my balls attached to my body.”
“Fine,” Casey said. “Put on as much clothes as possible and then tell me when you’re ready.”
At this point, all three were blushing like crazy with the awkwardness. Of course, her body, having discovered its own fascination with Casey, was cheering at this idea.
