Dee S. Knight
Somebody likes it hot.
I'm somebody!
Somebody likes it hot.
I'm somebody!
Harm Reynolds hasn't asked to be the liaison between the firefighters' union and the city—he's been thrust into the role. Even worse, his opponent in the negotiations is the new assistant mayor, the reputed Ice Queen, a heartless ball buster who doesn't care if his men charge into fiery buildings with equipment that doesn't work. He strides to his first meeting resolved to prove that a fireman can handle an Ice Queen.
Beth Edwards knows of her reputation as a heartless bitch, and in truth, she even uses it to her advantage at times. She isn't without compassion, she just doesn't handle emotion well. And since she has only career plans in mind and no time for love, well, what does a nasty nickname matter?
Both Beth and Harm should have known that playing with fire—whether it involves matches or love—is a dangerous thing to do.
"Both of these stories were excellent. The heroes were everything you could want from a hero while the female leads were just as impressive. Romance is the name of the game in each … Both stories were fast … sexual and sensual keeping the romance alive. My only complaint was they ended too soon but you can't have everything!" - 4.5 Hearts, Terri, Night Owl Romance
"I really enjoyed this story…" 4 Stars, LT Blue, JERR
"So, is today the day?"
Harm Reynolds cast his best friend Danny Cameron a "fuck you" smile and calmly kept buttoning his uniform jacket.
"Yup," Danny continued, "you've got the look all right. Hey, Casey! Harm's pale, hands are shaking, he's quaking in his boots. What does that tell ya?"
"Oh man, he's off to see the Ice Queen."
"He's off to see the Ice Queen, he's off to see the Ice Queen," Danny chanted and the other firefighters joined in.
"Y'all are just soooo funny," Harm said. "And honestly, it sounds like you're ready to move up into third grade now. I'll have a talk with the school board while I'm over at city hall." He grabbed his hat from the top shelf of his locker and fit it on his head.
Tony, their ladder truck driver, slapped Harm on the shoulder. "Face it boy, you'd better take your flannel undies if you're gonna be with that broad for long."
"And be sure to wear your cup. She's a nutcracker, for sure," Casey added. Cat calls rang out.
"I think she just needs to get laid," said Danny, "but who'd want to take on the job? She looks like a cross between a school marm and a librarian."
John Markey, one of the EMTs said, "Yup, she's got a stick up her ass awright."
"Y'all are just jealous you're not the union rep."
"Oh, yeah, that's the problem, all right," Danny agreed. "I actually agreed to take two extra shifts a week just to get out of being the negotiator, but I'm jealous."
Harm laughed. "Later," he said, walking out to jeers, laughs and admonitions to bundle up tight.
Fifteen minutes later he dropped his briefcase onto a chair in a small conference room on the fifth floor of Woodfield City Hall. He was a few minutes early, not because being early was his habit--though it was--but more to give himself the chance to settle his nerves before facing the city's assistant mayor over contract issues.
He was newly elected to the post of union liaison. The previous rep and the mayor allowed negotiations to implode because they'd run afoul of each other outside the talks. Harm had heard their bad feelings started with a dispute over a tree that separated their properties. A neighborly disagreement escalated to a lawsuit and then a shouting match three days ago in this very conference room. The next day, after an emergency meeting by union leaders, Harm was elected representative and told he'd be negotiating with the brand new assistant mayor. They added that the contract expired at the end of the week--as if he needed reminding--and that they expected him to knock out a fantastic contract, not a satisfactory one, with no strike.
Great. Just great.
The woman with whom he had to reach agreement was a stranger to him. He might have seen her around town somewhere, but for all the guys' razzing, he had no idea what they were talking about. It might be true that she was plain, but that didn't matter. No woman had interested him since his wife died eighteen months ago. Only now was he beginning to appreciate the sunshine again, hear birds sing, laugh fully at a joke. He had no desire for involvement, not when he was just finding himself.
He wandered the room, examining photos of the city from years ago. He'd grown up in the Shenandoah Valley, in a tiny town no one had ever heard of. But if he said, "It's near Woodfield," strangers recognized the area. In the overall scheme of life, Woodfield was a mid-sized Virginia town, but in the microcosm of Harm's childhood, it had been "the big city." This was where he'd always dreamt of living and when he finished his firefighting training and he and Sally married, this was where they'd settled. Back then he'd never thought he'd have to live there alone, yet ten years later, here he was. He stopped before a sepia-tone picture of his fire station from the turn of the century. Even after renovations and repairs after its own fire--yeah, irony reigned--the building was recognizable.
"Look familiar?"
The throaty, feminine voice couldn't possibly belong to any Ice Queen.
