Falling for the Firefighter: A sexy novella

By Tracy Krimmer

Alaina is an ER nurse who cares too much and has been hurt one too many times. Blaise is a seasoned firefighter with a playboy reputation. Do the two of them stand a chance or are they just playing with fire?

Falling for the Firefighter is a novella previously published in the Heroes With Heat & Heart anthology. The novella is no longer in the anthology and is now published on its own.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tracy Krimmer
• Release date: Oct 2, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215034873

Book preview

Chapter One

All I wanted was for my head to hit my pillow, to pull my blankets up to my chin, and to have a dreamless sleep. After a twelve-hour shift that turned into fifteen, I barely had the energy to even brush my teeth. Had my mom not pounded into my brain as a child the importance of not skipping a brushing, I would have done so.

I spat out the paste and rinsed my mouth out. I flicked the light off and crawled into bed, closing my eyes, hoping I’d fall asleep quickly. Even though I was tired as hell, my adrenaline still needed some cooling-down time.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

My eyes flew open at the sound. Just as quickly as the beeps came about, they disappeared. I ignored them, but not three minutes later, they started up again.

Ugh! Unless I figured out where the beeping was originating from and promptly put a stop to it, I could forget about sleep. Chances were my smoke detector was the culprit. I changed the batteries religiously at daylight saving time, but maybe one of the batteries had been bad. One by one I stood under each detector in my house and waited for the beep. Four smoke detectors later, the beeps hadn’t stopped. The only other thing that could be causing the beeping was my carbon monoxide detector.

Carbon monoxide wasn’t anything to be lax about. I’d seen it a few times in the hospital, someone coming in with carbon monoxide poisoning. The silent killer, they called it, since you couldn’t smell it, meaning you could easily, unknowingly have a leak. I grabbed my phone, shrugged on a light jacket, and headed outside while dialing emergency services.

9-1-1. What’s your emergency? the voice on the other end of the line said.

My carbon monoxide detector is beeping.

Please confirm your address.

321 Pine.

The clerk’s typing echoed through the phone. Was she typing a novel? Finally, Please exit the residence and wait down on the sidewalk for emergency services to arrive.

I didn’t tell the operator I was one step ahead of her. I ended the call, and within moments, sirens in the distance increased in volume as they made their way toward my street. As they turned the corner, the sirens stopped, but the flashing lights remained on. They parked directly in front of the driveway, turning a spotlight onto the house. Three firefighters hopped off the rig, and then an ambulance pulled up behind them along with a police officer.

How many people were needed for a carbon monoxide call?

Are you the owner of the residence? one of the firefighters asked. A female, who I guessed was a bit younger than me.

Yes. I heard the detector beeping and gave you a call right away.

If you want to step over to the ambulance, the EMTs would like to speak with you. The rest of us will head inside with our sensors.

I thanked the woman and watched as they all flooded into my house in their heavy gear. And their boots. I was a shoes-off kind of residence, and the thought of all the dirt they may have dragged in onto my carpeting caused me so much anxiety I’d almost rather take the chance with the poison.

As I made my way to the ambulance, a few of my neighbors peeked out from behind their curtains. Great. The last thing I wanted was to wake my neighborhood up.

Scratch that. The last thing I wanted was my nosy neighbors gossiping about what was happening at my house.

The EMTs swung the doors open to the ambulance. Good evening. Why don’t you step inside? They were both men, baby faces, probably fresh out of college. After I crouched my way in and sat on the small bench on the side of the ambulance, the blond one asked, Have you been experiencing any symptoms of carbon monoxide poisoning, such as sleepiness or headaches?

I shook her head. Not at all. I came home tired from my shift at the hospital.

Would you like us to do an exam to check you out?

No. I don’t think that’s necessary. Since I was very familiar with the signs, I knew I was fine. Chances were the alarm was false, too, but even still, I didn’t want to take any chances.

You’re welcome to wait in the ambulance if you’d like, the other one with sandy brown hair and glasses said.

No, that’s okay. It’s not too bad outside. If I had to guess, maybe fifty degrees or so. Nothing I couldn’t handle.

As I stood waiting for the firefighters to finish dragging dirt around the house and checking for carbon monoxide, my nosiest neighbor, Michelle, exited her house, wrapping a blanket around her body as she crossed the street.

Alaina! What’s going on? Is everything okay?

Translation: Hi, Alaina. What should I tell all the other neighbors plus all the people who don’t know you is going on? I need to know, or I’ll die.

I’m waiting to find out. Carbon monoxide detector went off.

Oh, that’s awful! She gasped.

A reaction such as that was overblown, but that was Michelle for you. I stood in front of her, healthy as ever. Had my house been on fire, fine, but this was a bit of an overreach.

Michelle wouldn’t leave until the fire department did. That I knew. She was now my partner in this whether I liked it or not. It was bad enough I had an