The Problem with Fire (The Problem Series Book 1) Read online

  “Sweet,” she squealed like a teenager.

  “Alright, I have to go,” I told her. “I want to catch up on some paperwork before Leta comes home tomorrow.” As always, Leta needed special…uh, handling whenever she came home from staying with Thomas.

  “Okay,” Karma replied. “I’ll talk to you later.” I was about to hang up when she said, “Oh, but before I go, how’s the hunky fireman these days?”

  I hung up on her.

  Dropping my head back in a rather dramatic fashion, I knew I was going to have to get back out there one day soon. But it wouldn’t be with a guy damn near five years my senior, that’s for sure.

  Chapter 2

  Sayer~

  What the hell was wrong with me?

  I wasn’t a bad-looking guy. I did my best to keep in shape. I was friendly enough. And I even fought fires for a goddamn living. I had a heroic occupation where I saved lives and kittens stranded on tree branches.

  My parents, Robert and Louise, were decent people who had raised us to be decent human beings. My father was a construction engineer, and my mother was a fulltime homemaker. And they had raised me and my brothers, Gideon and Nathan, without any hints of mental defects. Gideon had followed in my father’s footsteps and was a construction engineer, and Nathan played professional baseball. I came from a good family, damn it. Even my best friend and fellow firefighter, Kellen Everett, was a good dude.

  So, why was I practically invisible to my next-door neighbor?

  Okay.

  Ego aside, her ex-husband’s hair was lighter than my own dark brown. The dude also had hazel eyes instead of light blue like mine. He was in his forties, so a few years more mature than I was. And he was a CPA; a nice, boring, dependable, successful CPA. He didn’t run into buildings engulfed in flames, placing the life of others before his own. And how did I know all this? A couple of weeks after I had moved into my house, he had been outside waiting to pick up their daughter for the week, and he had walked over and had introduced himself as he’d been waiting. He had given me no details about his ex-wife and had been quite content with talking about himself only.

  So, it was quite possible, maaaaaaaaaaaaaybe, that I just wasn’t her type. I was nothing like her ex-husband, but then, that should be a plus since he was her ex, right?

  And even though he hadn’t offered up any information regarding his ex-wife, our mutual neighbor, Kerry Florence, had been a wealth of information when I had moved into the neighborhood. She had given me the gossip on the couple who had owned my house before me, The Masons across from me, The Hendersons across from her, my sexy neighbor, Monroe Stewart, who was nestled between our two houses, and of course, Kerry Florence had made sure to let me know that she was a single florist who was surrounded by love all day, just waiting for her Prince Charming to come and sweep her off her feet.

  It had been…awkward.

  Especially, since I was more interested in the sexy divorcee with a teenage daughter and baggage in the form of a douchebag ex-husband than I was in a single florist who had no baggage.

  Who knew?

  But I’ve been living here for over two months already, and the woman hasn’t looked my way more than twice in all that time. She’s given me a quick wave and a couple of mumbled hellos, but nothing more than that. And it would totally suck if she were still hung up on her ex because I found myself really, really, really, really attracted to the woman.

  She wasn’t very tall, but then, I stood at six-foot-three, so that probably put her at around five-foot-three, or so. And from what I could tell from the distance, she had dark brown hair with these whiskey-colored eyes. She mostly wore loose-fitting clothes when she was off work, but Jesus fucking Christ, the days I’d catch her coming from or going to work, she was dressed to the nines in sexy secretary office attire. And those slacks and pencil skirts she wore showcased curves for days.

  I had a straight up stiff dick for my neighbor, and the woman couldn’t care less.

  Now, it wasn’t that I didn’t date because I did. I was a healthy male with healthy male appetites. It was just that my job was demanding, and a lot of women couldn’t handle that. My parents had sent all us boys to college, and while Gideon and my father were partners with their own engineering firm, and Nathan was off breaking records in the MLB, I had gotten a Bachelor’s in arson investigation. However, I had found out, rather quickly, that desk work hadn’t been for me. I preferred the physicality of the job rather than the paper pushing and all the bureaucratic nonsense that came with it.

  Since graduating from college, I’d only had one serious girlfriend, and that record sucked in my opinion. I was thirty-five, and only one girl has tried to stick it out over these past ten years. And she had finally given up when she realized I was never going to end up with a nine-to-five. So, since Amy, I’ve been making do with casual dating, but even that was getting old. However, it was hard to find a woman who was confident enough doing her own thing, that she didn’t flip out if she didn’t get to see me for three days. All signs pointed to older women who had their shit together and weren’t interested in hovering or having enough boyfriend pictures for their social media.

  I guess that’s why I was so obsessed with my neighbor. She checked off all my boxes, and then some. Between having a fulltime job and a teenage daughter, I seriously doubted she’d have time to feel slighted if I didn’t respond to a text fast enough.

  And it wasn’t that I didn’t want to bother. It wasn’t like that at all. But being a firefighter was not all calendar photo shoots and false alarms. Though rewarding, our shifts were brutal. The bonds and camaraderie were solid, and the risks were real. And like any other profession where the man next to you made the difference in whether you’d see tomorrow or not, it was a brotherhood. And believe it or not, some women got jealous over that kind of bond shared with somebody else. I gave my all to my job and I just wanted a woman who could understand that, rather than resent it.

  And while children have never been a must for me, I still wanted a partner I could come home to every night and just love on. If she gave me children, great. If she didn’t, great. Children weren’t a deal breaker for me, one way or the other. I really just wanted a sense of family. And if that family consisted of only me and my partner, well, that was still a family. If it consisted of me, my partner, and twenty kids, that was still a family. And that’s all I really wanted. The feeling of belonging to something bigger than I was.

  My phone rang-too early in the day, in my opinion-jerking me out of my obsessive thoughts about my sexy neighbor. “Hey. What’s up?”

  “If Mom calls me one more time to tell me how it’s so nice to have at least one son to talk to, I’m going to drive over to your house, and then, to whatever city Nathan’s in, and kick your guys’ fucking ass,” Gideon snapped into phone. “Call your goddamn mother!” He hung up before I could tell him Mom was playing him because I just talked to her yesterday. I also knew for a fact that Nathan always called her before and after a series.

  But before I could decide on whether to call him back or not, my phone rang again. I answered it still wondering what Mom was playing at. “Hey.”

  “Hey,” Kellan’s voice greeted over the line. “Some of us are headed to Choker’s tonight before we hit our stride tomorrow.” Firehouse shifts varied from city to city or county to county, and in Silias County we were required to work three on, three off, four on, three off, and they were twelve-hour shifts. The family men made the effort to make it home each night after their shifts, but most of us just slept at the firehouse while we were on. It was more convenient that way.

  “I don’t know, Kel,” I said, not really feeling the social vibe. “I’d rather hang out at the end of our stride than right before it.”

  “Oh, come on,” he cajoled. “You’re talking like an old man.” Kellan was a year older than I was. “Besides, Daria, is going.”

  “If that was supposed to be an incentive, it’s not, Kel,” I replied dryly.
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  “Dude. Sayer, man,” he kept on. “The girl is hot.”

  I scoffed. “And she knows it,” I said. “Kellan, man, she likes the attention a little too much.”

  He chuckled over the phone. “You don’t gotta marry the girl, Sayer.”

  “She’s also the firehouse administrative assistant, Kellan.” I shook my head even though he couldn’t see me. “No way am I shitting where I eat.”

  “Dude, you’re going to die a virgin.”

  “Eat a dick.” Kellen knew very well that I wasn’t a virgin. We’d known each other for the entire eight years that I’ve been a firefighter for Silias County. We’ve partied together often in the past.

  “The sexy neighbor still not giving it up?”

  I groaned.

  One stupid, stupid, stupid drunken night, I had confessed my obsession to my best friend, and he’s been giving me shit about it ever since. And while he was, indeed, my best friend, some things were still sacred.

  Monroe Stewart was one of those things.

  But I still told him the truth. “She still looks right through me. Thanks for asking.”

  Kellen laughed. “Don’t give up,” he said encouragingly. “As long as her ex-husband is the only guy knocking at her doorstep, there’s still hope.”

  He had a point. “That’s true.”

  “Unless, of course, she’s going to her new dude’s house,” he added. “Then-”

  I hung up on him.

  No way was I going to listen to that negative possibility.

  Chapter 3

  Monroe~

  Why, Lord?

  Seriously, why?

  Working for the county, I was familiar with all sorts of city codes and ordinances. As a building inspector, you had to know what you were talking about when you were laying down the law because, more often than not, the building owners tried their best get over on you.

  And even if that weren’t the case, I got a city water bill every month just like everyone else. And with it came a friendly reminder of when your sanctioned watering days were.

  Thursday was not ours.

  We were allowed to water our grass, wash our cars, and have wet t-shirt contests on Sundays and Wednesdays only. Granted, our neighborhood has yet to have a wet t-shirt contest, but I wasn’t opposed to one. Well, as long as the children were in school and it was adults only. Not that I’d participate in such a thing, but I was all about girl power. I say if you got it, fault it. Just…flaunt it accordingly.

  So, pulling into my driveway, I was doing all I could not to wreck into everything around me as my neighbor, Sayer Hayes, was in his driveway, washing his car.

  Shirtless.

  The city employee in me wanted to lecture him about watering on an off day. But the woman in me wanted him to take that hose and hold it over his head as the water sluiced down all those hills and valleys that made up a six-pack and Adonis belt.

  Lord, have mercy on ovaries everywhere.

  I mean, I understood he worked weird hours and had to do what he had to do when he could do it, but I wasn’t sure how much more of this I could take before I crossed our property lines and mounted the poor man.

  I needed to go out on a date with a real person, and soon.

  The car in park (when I really should have driven into the garage, so I could avoid him completely) I took a calming breath to hide the fact that I was a sex-deprived lunatic, grabbed my purse and briefcase, and opened the car door to get out.

  Maybe we could move closer to Karma and her family. That’d be nice, right?

  But before I could give anymore thought to selling my house, kicking one of Karma’s neighbors out, and taking over their forever home, Sayer Hayes’ voice hit my ears. “Hey, Monroe. How are you?”

  I’d rather bash my briefcase over my head than turn around to face him, but I was sure that’d raise some eyebrows, and I didn’t want to be labeled as the crazy neighbor. Divorced neighbor? Sure. Mom neighbor? Okay. Lonely neighbor? Well, that’s okay, too. But crazy? Nah, not a fan.

  So, I turned around to face him and get this torture over with. Do. Not. Look. Down. At. Those. Abs. “Hi, Sayer,” I muttered like a fool. “Ho…how are you?”

  He smiled, and the no-good-cock-sucking-sonofabitch had dimples.

  But I suppose, to be fair, he couldn’t be no good because the man fought fires for a living. And I didn’t think he sucked cocked, but even if he did, who was I to judge? I had sucked Thomas’ cock a million times over during our marriage. And I’d never met Sayer’s mother, so it wasn’t fair to call her a bitch. I was fairly certain she was a very lovely lady, indeed.

  God, I needed my head examined.

  “I’m doing well,” he replied. “Just trying to get some chores in before my shift tomorrow.”

  My lips curled in and I nodded like an idiot. “Yeah…well…your water bill will probably be sky-high…because…you know…”

  Kill.

  Me.

  Now.

  “Well, hello there, neighbors.”

  We both turned to see Kerry standing at the end of our driveways. She was dressed like she’d been out jogging, but she looked too fabulous with her hair still in place and her makeup tutorial worthy. She probably saw Sayer washing his car and needed an excuse to ogle the man. And the thought might seem catty, but it really wasn’t. If I had the confidence Kerry had, I’d be pretend dressed in spandex, too. I mean, just look at the man.

  He was volcano-lava-erupting hot.

  “Hi, Kerry,” I greeted back.

  “Hi, Kerry,” Sayer echoed.

  She made her way up the driveway-his-and I totally planned to use that as my escape. “What are you guys about?”

  I smiled at her. “Yeah, uh…we were just discussing Sayer’s water bill,” I word vomited, and even Kerry looked perplexed.

  “Oh,” she mumbled.

  I looked back at Sayer, and he had his head cocked, looking at me like I must have a bathroom cabinet full of prescriptions.

  I grinned.

  At least, I hoped it looked like a grin.

  “Conserve the water,” I announced like a goddamn lunatic. “Save the planet.” Then I turned around and practically ran around the hood of my car to my walkway and up the front porch. I couldn’t get the lock opened fast enough, but once I had, I raced inside for cover.

  Once I was safely inside my house, my purse and briefcase dropped to the floor just inside the doorway, and I slid down against the front door until my ass hit the floor.

  Save the planet?

  Really??

  I reached over and pulled my phone out of my purse. I dialed Karma, and I thanked God that she answered, and wasn’t busy doing mother/wife stuff.

  “What’s up?”

  “My neighbor was outside washing his car with his shirt off, and when our neighbor Kerry came over to join in on the conversation, I told them to make sure they conserve water to save the planet,” I confessed like a loser. There was a pause of utter disbelief before I had to pull the phone away from my ear because Karma’s laughs had gotten so loud.

  What an asshole.

  “Karma!”

  “Oh, God,” she rushed out. “Oh, God…Mon…”

  “Quit laughing, damn it! This is serious!” I screeched. “Now I’m going to have to sell my house and move away!”

  She got herself under control long enough to ask, “What did he say?”

  “Nothing,” I grumbled. “I practically ran inside before he or Kerry could say anything.”

  “Sweet Jesus, Monroe,” she laughed, though her cackles had simmered down a bit.

  “It’s not funny, Karma,” I insisted. “The guy turns me into a bumbling idiot.”

  “Awe, Mon,” she said warmly, “why don’t you just ask him out already?”

  “Are you insane?” I choked out. “Talk about out of my league.”

  “Stop it,” she scolded. “You are beautiful, Monroe. Even if that snatch napkin couldn’t see it, you are. That sexy neig
hbor of yours should count his lucky stars that he makes you a bumbling idiot.”

  “Even if he did find me attractive, Karm, I doubt my looks are good enough to offset my crazy,” I told her, mentally reliving my idiocy earlier. “No one wants to date someone who’s crazy.”

  “But you’re not crazy, babe,” she corrected. “He just makes you act crazy.”

  “Not to mention, the guy is thirty-five, Karma. I’m about to hit forty,” I pointed out.

  “Last I checked, thirty-five was way above the legal consent age. And by all accounts, it seems as if he’s doing all the things that grown men do, Monroe,” she replied, not bother to hide her sarcasm at all. “You know, like hold down a job, buy a home, purchase condoms legally.”

  “You’re not helping,” I remarked.

  “I’m not helping you hide,” she clarified. “But I am trying to help you get laid.”

  “I don’t need help getting laid,” I denied. “I need help selling my house, so I can move.”

  Karma let out a deep sigh. “That’s it,” she said, invoking her mom voice. “When we get back from camping, we’re going out, and we’re getting you laid.” An automatic denial was ready on my lips, but…

  I really, really, really wanted to have sex with something that didn’t require batteries.

  But, could I?

  When it came down to it, could I have a one-night stand? I didn’t judge people who did, but I’d always been in a committed relationship when sex was involved. Could I let go of my inhibitions like that?

  “Well see,” I hedged because there was only one real way to find out, right?

  Chapter 4

  Sayer~

  Why, Lord?

  Seriously, why?

  I worked hard for my money, and while I did enjoy splurging from time to time, it didn’t excite me to have to pay an astronomical water bill every month because the sight of me washing my car without a shirt on did nothing to entice my neighbor.