If you’ve been living under a rock you might not know that I had a release day yesterday. Otherwise I’m sure you’ve seen me going on an on about it on social media, because Rob McConnell’s book is available for purchase and I’m thrilled. I fell in love with Rob while writing Burning Up for the Down and Dirty boxed set, and I’m so glad to see his story finally on sale. Rob is a seriously nice guy, but hella sexy too. I DO believe nice guys can be sexy–don’t you?
Resisting a gorgeous firefighter bent on seduction could prove the ultimate challenge.
Firefighter Rob McConnell doesn’t believe in love at first sight, until he meets Sierra Lawson and his common sense goes up in flames. The woman sets his heart alight the instant he meets her, and he could swear the feeling is mutual. But Sierra has one rule that makes a relationship between them unworkable—she doesn’t date firefighters. Still, Rob thinks the spark between them deserves a chance to grow and he’ll use every seductive talent he has to convince Sierra to take a chance on love.
Sierra doesn’t believe in taking chances. Her late fiancé took them on the job as a cop and wound up dead. Knowing she can’t go through that kind of heartache again, Sierra vows never to date another man in a dangerous profession. But when hunky firefighter Rob bursts into her life, her list of rules looks set to burn up like dry kindling. The man is temptation personified. An affair seems inevitable.
Guarding her heart? Impossible.
Two things woke Rob McConnell at 3:46 in the morning. The sound of a woman screaming and the acrid smell of smoke.
He shot out of bed, his firefighter instincts on full alert. Yesterday, he’d spent the better part of a ten-hour shift working with his crew and several others to dampen a factory fire before it spread to the surrounding industrial area. They’d managed to douse the flames without any loss of life, but they weren’t always so lucky. Screaming and smoke tended to make Rob spring right into action.
He was yanking on a pair of jeans in two seconds, bolting out of his bedroom in three. He stopped in the darkened hall, listening for the roar of flames. It took him a moment to realize there was no roar, and that the woman’s screams weren’t the come-and-save-me-I’m-burning-to-death kind. They were more of the Oh-God-baby-yes-I’m coming-I’m-coming variety.
Rob groaned and rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands. His housemates were at it again. Blair Bowman and Leo Chatfield—otherwise known at the fire station as Blue and Chats—were working their way through all the women in Ashton Heights and a few surrounding suburbs who were willing to take both of them on at the same time. Unfortunately, there were a lot of women to choose from.
Ordinarily, Rob wouldn’t care what his two workmates did in the bedroom. He wasn’t a complete stranger to the delights of three-way action himself. But the walls in the old Queenslander the three of them shared were paper thin. The noise was affecting his sleep.
Pushing out a sigh, Rob walked into the kitchen to grab the milk from the fridge. Just as he was about to lift the carton to his lips, he detected that scent of smoke again. The screams might have been nothing to worry about, but that persistent smell was a concern. He followed it to the open kitchen window, which faced the kitchen window of the neighboring house. Through the glass, he saw a telltale orange glow emanating from inside.
Rob dropped the milk carton, spilling the contents all over the linoleum floor. Ignoring the mess, he yanked the fire extinguisher off its wall bracket and bolted toward the sliding glass door that led to the back patio. He ran down the stairs three at a time, vaulted over the fence between the two properties and leapt up the back stairs of number nineteen. He banged on the glass of the house’s back door, trying to rouse the single mother and three kids who lived inside.
Through the glass, Rob could see the fire had already consumed the toaster on the bench. As he watched and banged furiously on the door, the flames leapt from the toaster to a nearby tea towel and set it alight.
Where the hell were their smoke alarms? Fuck it, he thought. He couldn’t wait for Cheryl to wake up. He lifted the fire extinguisher and rammed the base of it into the door. A crack appeared in the glass immediately. With only one more blow, the whole sheet exploded. Glass fell everywhere, leaving shards on the inside and outside of the house.
A woman screamed, the sound ear-splitting. Rob didn’t even look at her as he leapt over the broken glass and headed for the kitchen. He lifted the fire extinguisher and released the safety switch. Rob gave it a few good long bursts, spraying at the flames until he’d buried the small blaze in white foam.
When the noise of the extinguisher died down, silence fell. Outside, a dog barked. A few screen doors creaked as they opened. The commotion had obviously gotten the attention of the neighbors. Rob’s heart rate began to calm as the adrenaline eased out of his system.
It sped up again at the sound of one shrill question. “Why in the world did you do that?”
Rob’s head whipped around and he got his first real look at the woman who’d screamed earlier. A woman who was definitely not Cheryl, the forty-something mother of three who lived at number nineteen. This woman was not forty, probably wouldn’t be for at least fifteen years. And if her hips had born any children, they sure didn’t show a sign of it. She was trim and slender with long hair that fell in straight dark strands all the way to her tiny waist. Which wasn’t far because she was short.
She was short, cute and really ticked off. Which ticked Rob off. Fortunately, his annoyance distracted him from the other things he was feeling. His first glimpse of the woman had knocked the breath from him and he felt like he’d been sucker punched.
Sigh. I love him!
I hope you check out Giving Off Sparks.