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Blazing Hotter (Love Under Fire Book 2)
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Blazing Hotter
(Love Under Fire - 2)
Chantel Rhondeau
Electronic Edition
Copyright 2016 Chantel Rhondeau
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Cover Design: EDH Graphics
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This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to an ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
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This book is a work of fiction. The characters, names, events, and places in this novel are used fictitiously or are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to real people, living or dead, or to places, businesses, or events, is entirely coincidental.
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Blazing Hotter Description
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Author’s Note
Chantel’s Books
Preview of Blazing Love
Blazing Hotter Description
Former bad boy and firefighter Frankie Hernandez struggles to recover from debilitating injuries sustained during his last fire. Physical therapist Cassie Flick is at her wit's end with the handsome hunk, conspiring with his friends to get Frankie’s life back despite his intense pain. Those plans get derailed when she receives a delivery from an unknown source. Roses are sweet, but a note inside them threatening Cassie isn’t.
There’s a killer loose in Sayle, Washington, and Frankie isn't about to let Cassie face this threat alone, no matter what it costs him physically. The more time they spend together, the closer they become and the higher the stakes are for Frankie to overcome his disabilities and protect her. Together they race to discover who’s killing women in their city, fighting to solve the mystery before Cassie becomes the next victim.
Dedication
To all civil service members who work hard to keep us safe. Thank you.
Acknowledgements
A big shout out of thanks to all the people who make my books possible. First and foremost on that list is Conra, who supports my dreams, working hard so I can spend more time writing and encouraging me to keep going even on days I feel like giving up.
My list of beta readers and proofers are always rock stars who help me out even when I’m asking for a super fast turnaround. They take time out of their busy lives to be my first-line readers, showing me where I went wrong, helping me fix things, and, in general, being my trusted group to keep me from losing my mind during the process. Not to mention the typos they find! Thanks so much to Speedy Shanny G, Author Rachelle Ayala, The Fabulous Liza Robbins, Awesome Editor Sara Kay, and Wonderful Rebecca A.
Another big thanks has to go to my cover artist, Erin, at EDH Graphics. It’s as though we share a brain with our visions for cover art, and she always creates something beautiful without needing a lot of back and forth between us.
Finally, thank you to all my readers! I don’t know if I could stop myself from writing even if I wanted to, but knowing there are people out there waiting to hear my stories helps keep me motivated. My fans are the best!
Chapter One
The raging fire had nearly consumed the house, but the kids hid inside somewhere. Unfortunately, no one awaited Frankie and his partner, Thayne, in the first bedroom. Glancing up, Frankie noted the sparks of flame that flickered through the smoke, threatening to catch fire.
“Fall back. It’s gonna flash.” Thayne tugged Frankie’s arm and dragged him into the hallway, turning to shut the door in an attempt to keep the superheated air from blazing to life. “Let’s get out of here.”
Thayne led the way, as usual, crawling low to the ground.
Frankie knew he should put his gloves back on in case there was a flash fire, but Thayne had threatened to kick his ass if they separated. He needed to keep up with his partner. Looking up again, Frankie shuddered and fear spurred his adrenaline, helping him crawl for the front door faster. Black smoke snaked along the hallway ceiling and small licks of orange and blue lit here and there. It was only a matter of time before the whole house burst into flames.
It crushed Frankie that they had to leave without finding the kids. There was one room they hadn’t been able to check. The children must have taken shelter in the master bedroom.
He’d barely reached that little girl hiding in the bathtub in time during the last fire they fought, but he had saved her. Giving up on kids seemed like the worst thing a firefighter could do.
Hoping for a miracle, Frankie glanced over his shoulder, peering through the smoke-filled hall. As though they only waited for him to look, the door at the end of the hall opened, revealing the forms of children barely visible through the inky blackness.
“Thayne, wait! It’s the kids.” Frankie took off without waiting for Thayne to give the order, standing and running for the opening. He had to reach them. They likely had seconds before passing out, overcome by the smoke they breathed. Screw the danger! He had to save them.
“Frank, no!”
Thayne’s shout was a direct order, but Frankie didn’t care if he was the probie who should follow a superior’s commands. There wasn’t time to argue about this.
He raced to the doorway, scooping a little girl under his right arm and making a grab for a young boy.
The toddler didn’t seem to realize Frankie was there to help, dodging beneath Frankie’s arm and backing further into the room.
“Damn you, Frankie. Grab that kid!” Thayne stood mere inches behind Frankie, holding the last child, who appeared to have passed out as soon as he picked her up. “We need to get the fuck out of here.”
Nodding, Frankie lunged forward, snagging the back of the kid’s shirt. Not caring if it wasn’t the most gentle way to handle a child, Frankie yanked him against his side. “Let’s go.”
As one, he and Thayne turned for the bedroom doorway. A crackle and a crash of noise spurred Frankie backward and part of the hall ceiling caved in front of them. “What now?”
“Window,” Thayne yelled, sprinting through the room.
Frankie stuck close to him, despite holding a kid under each arm. “It hasn’t been broken yet.”
“I’ll get it. Get ready.”
The danger of sucking the fire toward them when they let in fresh oxygen was all too real, but they didn’t have a choice. It already felt like the flesh of Frankie’s hands had melted to the bones, the air scorching them.
Thayne carefully set the girl on the floor and snatched up a chair from the nearby vanity set. As he spun toward the window to drive the chair through it, all hell broke loose.
It
sounded like an explosion. The air caught fire and suddenly the house was falling in on itself, the attic area already blazing. Chunks of burning drywall and insulation knocked Frankie to the ground. It was all he could do to crawl on top of the two children in an effort to shield them from the worst of it as bigger pieces rained down.
When the screaming started, Frankie struggled inside the rubble, frantic to get out from under the fiery blaze. He needed to help whoever screamed. Slabs of something held him down, pinning him on top of the kids. A pain unlike anything he’d felt before swallowed him whole, making it difficult to even form coherent thoughts.
The fire suit didn’t do much to help. The sweat on his body morphed into boiling steam, searing him with such excruciating agony that he could no longer worry about the kids he wanted to protect. He needed to save himself.
And the damn screaming wouldn’t stop. He just wanted it to end.
It wasn’t until he almost drifted into unconsciousness that Frankie realized the screams came from his own throat.
***
Frankie Hernandez bolted upright in bed, yelling out once before collapsing against his sweat-soaked pillows. It was the damn dream again. Always that dream. For a year and a half now, he’d relived the moment that changed his life forever.
Frustration mounting, he struggled to grab the stress ball next to his bed. It was supposedly part of his therapy, but Frankie’s damaged hands could barely grasp the damn thing.
With a defiant grunt, he chucked the ball as hard as he could across the room. It flew with all the confidence and power of something thrown by an infant, only serving to anger him further. It arched shakily through the air, headed toward the door leading to the main hallway of the rehabilitation center.
Before the ball hit, the door swung open. Thayne Bloodgood, Frankie’s old partner, snatched the stress ball from the air before it hit him, a sideways smile on his face. “That’s some welcome you have going on, probie. No wonder you don’t get many visitors.”
“I’m not a probie anymore,” Frankie grumped. “I’m nothing but a damn cripple. What the hell are you doing here?”
Thayne shrugged in a lazy manner and crossed the room, plopping into the chair next to Frankie’s bed without waiting for an invitation. “Came to wish you a happy birthday and wheel you to our therapy appointment. It’s not every day you turn twenty-three, you know?”
“You’re right. Considering I turned twenty-three two years ago, you’re already too damn late.”
Not wanting to look at Thayne’s perpetually handsome face, Frankie turned and stared resolutely toward his room’s tiny window. Not even a fire could strike down the mighty Thayne. The man was walking and back to work within six months of the fire despite the burns he’d suffered on his back and legs. Not to mention, Thayne was back to being deliriously happy with his fiancée, the sweet veterinarian assistant, Laura Lyon.
“Dude, you’re really twenty-five today?” Thayne asked. “I had you pegged as younger, considering how you used to get it on with all the strippers in town instead of settling down with a nice girl.”
“Don’t let it worry you. I won’t be with them anymore.” Frankie knew his voice was snarly and Thayne only tried to be kind, but he wasn’t in the mood to deal with people right after having the dream again. “No stripper would want me touching them with these burned out husks I have for hands. Not to mention how hard it’d be for them to handle seeing my scarred thighs and stomach.”
“Could be worse,” Thayne replied. “Your dick still works, right?”
“Not that I have occasion to try it out,” Frankie grumbled.
“That’s why you gotta start getting out of this place more.” Thayne said it with all confidence, as though Frankie had just supplied the comment Thayne had been waiting for. “Lucky for you, the guys have a birthday party planned at the station. I’m supposed to bring you by once therapy is done. Sterling is making his famous chili, his wife baked a cake, and Laura knows how partial you are to chicken enchiladas, so she’s baking those as we speak.”
Talk about the worst idea ever. Going to the firehouse and seeing all his old friends was not his idea of a good time. He didn’t want the other guys to see what had become of him. They’d stopped visiting after the first few months, and Frankie was fine with that. Besides, it made Frankie cringe every time he had to face Laura, considering he nearly got Thayne killed. She was too sweet to be mean to him, but Frankie couldn’t imagine she’d ever really forgive him for that. He couldn’t forgive himself.
Going to face them all meant showing them what a year and a half of therapy had accomplished. Nothing. He was weak and cowardly now, not able to strengthen himself enough to walk. Hell, he couldn’t even make his damn hands work. He wasn’t part of their brotherhood anymore. He’d never be a firefighter again, so why should he spend time with them?
“Tell them thanks but no thanks. I’m not feeling up to it.”
“What if I told you I was going?” came a soft voice from the doorway.
Both men turned to look, and Frankie bit the inside of his cheek as familiar feelings of desire and need coursed through his sex-starved body. Why did his physical therapist have to be so damn hot?
“Hey, Cassie.” Thayne waved her inside. “We’d love to party with you, wouldn’t we, Frank?”
Cassie Flick stepped into the room, crossing it quickly and perching on the side of Frankie’s bed. “Sorry to eavesdrop, but you weren’t exactly being quiet. Having a rough day?” Her sky blue eyes flashed with concern in that way she had.
The way that totally made Frankie melt. If only she wasn’t off limits.
If only he wasn’t a shell of the man he’d been two years ago. The old Frankie would take a perky blond like Cassie into his arms with no hesitation, rubbing her back and shoulders and kissing her until she was breathless and moaning for more. He’d have no problem using his nimble fingers to tease her into a frenzy of hot desire until she begged him to make her come, over and over again.
Frankie looked at his hands, thinking about what the doctors had said earlier at his surgical consultation. A rough day didn’t even begin to describe it.
“It’s been pretty shitty,” he admitted. “I’m not up to a party. In fact, I meant to call you to cancel therapy, Cassie, but fell asleep. I just want to go back to bed.”
Cassie frowned, her brow furrowing in a way that somehow made her even hotter. “The nurses tell me you haven’t been out of your room since our last therapy appointment. I know I had to cancel a few sessions to go to my brother’s wedding, but you promised you’d work hard while I was gone.”
He had no answer for that. It was the first time in a year and a half that Cassie had missed a therapy appointment. She worked her ass off trying to help him gain more mobility. However, Frankie knew he had to face facts sooner or later.
“I’m not getting better. Rehab isn’t helping.”
She tilted her head sideways and reached out, smoothing his curly black hair across his head. “You’re all sweaty. You mentioned something about having bad dreams once before. Is that what has you so worked up and grouchy?”
Her touch was magical, the coolness of her skin acting like a soothing balm for his hot flesh. However, if he let her continue touching him, he’d lose control and pop a boner right here. Maybe that would have been okay for the old Frankie, who could convince a girl to take care of it or do it for himself, but his screwed up hands couldn’t even move enough for him to whack himself off these days.
He pushed her hand away. “It’s really none of your business what I dream about.”
If his rudeness upset her, Cassie didn’t show it. She merely shrugged and hopped off the bed. “Nope, it’s not. What is my business is getting your ass down to the therapy room. I’m not going to let what muscle tone you do have atrophy just because you want to feel sorry for yourself and act like a whiny little bitch.”
Thayne’s loud guffaw of laughter filled the room. “I love how you kick
his ass. I can’t talk to him that way anymore.”
“Well, you should,” she said. “Coddling him won’t get him moving again. Grab his wheelchair, Thayne. I don’t care if we have to beat him and throw him in the damn thing.”
She looked back at Frankie, piercing him with her fiercest glare. “You are going to therapy and then you’re getting cleaned up and going to that party. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Plenty of people have gone to a lot of trouble to make your birthday special, so get off your damn pity pot.”
***
Pacing the outside hallway while Thayne helped Frankie shower after therapy, Cassie Flick couldn’t calm her nerves. She hoped they were doing the right thing by forcing Frankie into this party. When the nursing staff reported that he wouldn’t get out of bed while she’d been gone, it had been more than a little concerning. She was running out of options to treat the former fireman, and now she needed his brothers at the station to step in and help roust him back to life.
She turned the corner of the hallway furthest from Frankie’s room, readying herself to make another lap of the floor when she still didn’t see Thayne or Frankie waiting for her. How long could it possibly take the man to clean up? From everything she’d seen, Frankie was sexy no matter what he did. Besides, it wasn’t like the guys at the station cared how he looked.
The door to one of the nearby rooms opened and a woman stepped out, putting her hands over her face and stifling tears.
She looked vaguely familiar, and Cassie wondered if something had gone wrong with one of the other residents on the floor. Hurrying her steps to approach the woman, she cleared her throat to let her know she was there. “Are you okay, ma’am?”
The woman looked up, glaring through her tears. “This is all your fault.”
“Excuse me?” Although Cassie felt a sense of familiarity, she was sure the woman wasn’t related to any of the patient’s Cassie had worked with. She must not mean Cassie personally was at fault. “What’s happened, ma’am?”
“He died and it’s your fault.”