Heat

“911 what’s the address of your emergency?”

“Um, my kitchen’s on fire.”

“What’s the address?”

“400 Trinity Ln. I had a grease fire on the stove, and, oh my God! The curtains above my sink are on fire.”

“Ma’am, the fire department is already on the way. If it is safe to do so, I want you to leave the house. Is there anyone else inside?”

“No, it’s just me and my dog. We’re out. I can hear the sirens. Wow, that was fast.”

“Do you want me to stay on the line?”

“No, ma’am. Thank you. They’re here.”

The engine pulled to a stop and four men poured out of the cab. They were already dressed in their heavy turnout gear. Before she knew it, they were inside, the fire was out and she was talking to the fire Captain explaining what happened.

“Ok, ma’am, what is your name?”

“Robyn. Robyn Roberts.”

“Ms. Roberts can you tell me what happened?”

“I am a disaster in the kitchen. I was trying to cook dinner.”

“Well, the kitchen is a disaster, but the damage is minimal. You did the right thing when you put the lid on the pan and turned off the heat.”

The Captain had taken off his turnout coat and was wearing a fire department t-shirt. Robyn noticed that the shirt was wet from sweat and clinging to the Captain’s very well sculpted body. He had sandy blonde, wavy hair and piercing blue eyes. He had the highly chiseled jawline that seems to come standard in Marine Corps recruiting posters. He looked like he could have just stepped out of the firefighter calendar she had hanging inside her pantry door. She licked her bottom lip then caught it in her teeth before she answered.

“Thank you for responding so quickly. I was terrified the house was going to go up in smoke! What is your name?”

Captain Greg Miller had been on the Smithfield Fire Department for ten years. As he was taking down notes about Robyn’s fire, he was noticing how pretty she was. Robyn had coppery colored long hair that she had pulled into a messy ponytail, with the fair complexion shared by most redheads along with freckles that brushed over her small, slightly upturned nose. She was wearing a very short pair of cutoff jean shorts with a dark green short-sleeved shirt that mirrored her emerald green eyes. The neckline had a deep V that ended right above the swell of perfectly round breasts. He was looking at her so intently, he almost forgot she had spoken.

“I, uh, I’m Captain Greg Miller. It’s been so dry lately we’ve had a lot of older houses like yours go up pretty quickly.”

“Thank you, Greg.”

“Yo, Cap, we gotta go! There’s a fully involved structure fire two blocks away.”

Captain Miller climbed into the passenger seat of the engine and waved to Robyn as they drove away.