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The Fireman and the Cop
De RJ Scott
Actions du livre
Commencer à lireNotes:
Évaluation : 4 sur 5 étoiles4/5 (8 évaluations)
Longueur: 130 pages2 heures
- Éditeur:
- RJ Scott
- Sortie:
- May 11, 2017
- ISBN:
- 9781785640667
- Format:
- Livre
Description
Rescuing a cop from a burning precinct is in Max’s job description; falling in love was never part of the deal.
Max Harrison moved from the city to take up a role as assistant to the mayor, while also a volunteer firefighter. When he meets Finn Ryan in Ellery, he falls in lust that burns as hot as the fires being set in town.
Finn Ryan is a cop, and somehow he’s attracted trouble. Going back into a fire to rescue the town drunk is just the start. Now he has to rely on the man he’s falling for to make sure it doesn’t end with him dying.
Informations sur le livre
The Fireman and the Cop
De RJ Scott
Notes:
Évaluation : 4 sur 5 étoiles4/5 (8 évaluations)
Longueur: 130 pages2 heures
Description
Rescuing a cop from a burning precinct is in Max’s job description; falling in love was never part of the deal.
Max Harrison moved from the city to take up a role as assistant to the mayor, while also a volunteer firefighter. When he meets Finn Ryan in Ellery, he falls in lust that burns as hot as the fires being set in town.
Finn Ryan is a cop, and somehow he’s attracted trouble. Going back into a fire to rescue the town drunk is just the start. Now he has to rely on the man he’s falling for to make sure it doesn’t end with him dying.
- Éditeur:
- RJ Scott
- Sortie:
- May 11, 2017
- ISBN:
- 9781785640667
- Format:
- Livre
À propos de l'auteur
RS![]()
RJ Scott is the author of the best selling Male/Male romances The Christmas Throwaway, The Heart Of Texas and the Sanctuary Series of books.She writes romances between two strong men and always gives them the happy ever after they deserve.
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Aperçu du livre
The Fireman and the Cop - RJ Scott
Chapter One
Adrenaline pumped through Max’s body. The glow of a fully invested fire at the police precinct was obvious over downtown Ellery; the blaze well past being contained. Turning in a rough one-eighty, Max assessed the exposure factor, listening as the lieutenant issued orders.
The precinct was part of an older area of town. A jumble of empty gift shops, a couple of grocery stores, and the mayor’s building. Luckily, the precinct itself—a large two-story building—was separated from the other structures with fifty feet to spare. The only buildings in danger of the fire spreading to them were first on the list to be hosed down.
With well-oiled teamwork, the volunteer firefighters stood next to the full-timers and began their work.
Do we have anyone inside?
Chief Quinn asked the gathered crowd. Max’s boss commanded respect. He was a lifer firefighter, and obviously, people listened to him. Max recognized a couple of people there but had no idea who might be left in the building.
A man fell out of the fire-ringed main door and onto his knees, disheveled and coughing.
Max was there in an instant, wrestling the guy away from danger and guiding him toward the paramedics who had arrived a few seconds after the engine.
Finn…
A coughing fit overtook the man. Inside,
he finished when he could catch his breath. He was pointing back the way he’d come.
Max stiffened. Was someone still inside? He focused on the chaos around him; on the shouting.
Finn’s still in there,
someone yelled. A tall man was being held back by a group of onlookers as he struggled to get free, looking around him in horror, like he couldn’t believe this Finn guy was still inside.
Max didn’t even think before crossing to the struggling man.
Where?
he snapped.
The guy blinked but didn’t falter. Straight in. To the back and left rear. The lockup. He went in to get Fitz.
That’s Fitz?
Max asked, pointing at the old man who’d just walked out of the fire.
Yes.
Okay. Going in,
Max confirmed into his mic.
Chief Quinn spun on his heel at the words to face Max, his expression one of what the fuck
coupled with resignation. With a quick nod and no thought other than focusing on the job, Max ensured his face mask was secure and ran straight into the red and orange, through the only suitable ingress—a space formed by an iron beam holding up the remains of the ceiling in what he assumed was the reception area.
The flames reached for Max as he forced his way into a wide corridor. Fire licked the ceilings and walls. This had been fast—material in the walls and ceilings had fed the monster, and piles of folders and paperwork had provided more fuel.
Straight along the corridor. His heavy boots weighed him down. Focus kicked him into high gear. He breathed heavily with a mix of fear and excitement that fed his veins and arteries—the normal-use sixty-minute SCBA was going to be empty in a third of that time. Didn’t matter, because the building was disintegrating around him in great big flaming chunks of hell.
Fire, that fucking mistress of his, was a killer, and he had every respect for her power. He reached a T-junction and took a left. The air thickened with smoke, and he prayed he wasn’t too late. Anyone trapped in this sort of environment would be overcome and close to being out of it. He needed to find out where the man was.
Finally, through the smoke and sparking flames, Max saw him trapped under a broken table. Max scrambled to him, dropping to his knees and heaved at the table without success. The guy was a cop, dressed in blues and semi-conscious. It looked like the table had been moved by the unseen force of an explosion and had pinned him to the wall by his arm and chest.
Help me!
the cop shouted, although the words were slurred, and his eyes were slits against the smoke. Max wished unconsciousness could subdue the cop's fear.
Using the axe in his hand as a lever, Max forced it against the table where it was embedded in the wall. He turned his back against falling debris and sheltered the trapped guy as much as he could as the entire ceiling descended a few feet with a sickening noise. Glancing back the way he’d come, he saw their way out was becoming blocked. More disturbing was the dark, black smoke that collected at high points. That wasn’t good—in any way. The heat was intense and the dense, superheated cloud of fuel too rich to ignite. It was only a matter of time before flashover, and then it was game over for him and the cop.
Pushing and pulling as hard as he could, Max finally had enough leverage to allow the cop to slide down the wall into a heap on the floor. Not stopping for anything, he scooped the heavy man up and over his shoulder and, with staggering steps, turned to face his nemesis. His muscles strained with the weight, heat, and lack of breath, and he went with his gut instinct. They needed out, and this was a dead end. They only had one option—to go back the way they’d come.
There was no freaking finesse in this plan. Training kicked in, and Max did the only thing he knew would work. He ran. Stumbling through debris and wincing as fire flicked at him, he forced his way through the ruins of fallen ceiling and was back in the main corridor. A dreadful crash behind them left him very aware the building was disintegrating around him.
The doorway was lit up like a hoop of fire he had to leap through, and with the last push of energy, he was through the entrance and out onto the street.
Hands were there helping him, relieving him of his burden, and he could only watch as the whole building imploded and a huge explosion of dust and debris rose into the night.
There was screaming and shouting, but in Max’s head, there was only peace. He had done his job.
The paramedics insisted on checking him out and pulled him over to their rig with a determination Max couldn’t fight. The cop was there. Ready for transport to the hospital, an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth. His eyes were open, and for a second Max looked into the clearest green gaze, and his breath hitched. He hadn’t really looked at the guy he was rescuing. Yeah, he’d cursed that the man was over six foot and near to dying in there, but the eyes and strong features visible under the mask and the firm lips and jaw—he’d definitely missed those.
The cop lifted the mask with shaky fingers. I like firefighters,
he whispered and coughed.
Sorry?
Max leaned in to hear him over the noise and chaos outside the rig.
Firefighters… I can never find a gay one.
Well, I like cops, Max thought.
He’d had proposals of marriage before from grateful women he’d rescued, but of course, he was way too professional, and too gay, to take them up on their offers. Was this cop coming on to him?
The guy was clearly delirious or oxygen-deprived or something. Max was used to this kind of reaction, and he generally played along. The people he rescued being very thankful was a given, and Max always took their comments in good humor, as did any firefighter in his position.
Your bodies are fiiiine,
the patient was slurring. His expression was less focused and tending more toward unconsciousness. And your hoses. Never find a gay one, though.
Then he started mumbling and suddenly closed his eyes.
Max moved swiftly out of the way and found himself watching as the rig moved off with the cop inside—to St Martin’s Hospital, he guessed.
A gay cop had come on to him, and then slumped into unconsciousness. They’d meet again—this was a small town—but the chances that the cop, Finn, would recall anything of what had just happened were slim.
Typical.
Max resolved to go and visit the guy in the hospital; only to check and see if everything was okay. That was all. Nothing to do with the whole men-in-uniform thing. Or the fact that the gay cop had the greenest eyes against the bloodshot red.
Look lively, Max,
Chief Quinn instructed.
It was a long time until the all clear. Even longer back to his small rented house and to the shower. He’d fit in a visit before work tomorrow, which, according to the clock on the microwave, was less than three hours away. The downside of volunteering was showing up at work, as usual, the next day. He knew his new employer would allow him some leeway, but it was only his second day working for the mayor of Ellery, and he hoped to hell the newness of the position would keep his feet moving and his brain alert.
Otherwise, he was fucked.
He didn’t remember falling asleep, but a call woke him from dreams and he scrambled for the phone after
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