Page 9 of Playing With Fire
5
CASS
The firehouse was still, quiet except for the faint hum of the vending machine down the hall and the occasional creak of the building settling into the night. Cass sat alone in the dimly lit common room, a lukewarm cup of coffee cradled between her hands. It was past midnight, the usual dead time during a shift, a rare lull when her team could get some rest before the next call.
But tonight, Cass felt anything but restful. She’d tried everything to shake the restless energy buzzing through her veins: ran through drills with the team earlier, checked equipment twice, even forced herself into paperwork she’d normally avoid. Yet her mind kept snapping back to the one thing she wanted to forget.
Evelyn Ford.
Her jaw clenched at the thought of the consultant’s name, her grip tightening around the cup until the lukewarm coffee sloshed dangerously close to the rim. She’d dealt with bureaucrats before—always there to slash budgets, to dictate policies they knew nothing about—and she’d faced them down with an unwavering resolve. But Evelyn was unsettlinglydifferent. From the moment she’d walked into Cass’s firehouse with that calculated, steely gaze and a confident, almost arrogant stance, Evelyn had rattled her. More than that, Evelyn had gotten under her skin in a way Cass couldn’t seem to shake.
“Focus on the job, Cass,” she muttered to herself, as if speaking it aloud would somehow break the spell. But even as she tried to push the thought aside, memories from their last encounter crowded back into her mind with unnerving clarity.
She could still see Evelyn standing there, calm and unbending, going toe-to-toe with her in that heated meeting. Cass replayed every word, every subtle barb, the way Evelyn’s sharp grey gaze never faltered, her coolness that felt almost like a challenge. Her shiny hair that was never a hair out of place. Cass’s heart had hammered against her ribs, her pulse racing not just with frustration but with something else—something that made her skin tingle and her breath catch. She hated that her body seemed to react to Evelyn without her permission. Hated that someone who threatened everything she’d built could also ignite something within her she hadn’t felt in years.
She set her coffee down and ran her hands over her face, exhaling a frustrated sigh. This wasn’t like her. Cassidy Harris didn’t get distracted, didn’t let anyone or anything cloud her focus on her team, her work. And yet here she was, in the dead of night, haunted by Evelyn Ford’s sharp, unyielding grey gaze, shiny hair, and the lovely lines of her body in her smart suits. She kept imagining what it might be like to tear those perfect clothes from her perfect body. And the thought more than excited her.
Cass leaned back against the wall of the firehouse, the hum of the building’s late-night quiet pressing in on her as she tried to clear her mind. But no matter how hard she pushed, Evelyn Ford kept slipping into her thoughts, like smoke finding its way through cracks. It was maddening, this unwelcome distractionat a time when her department needed her focus more than ever. The weight of her responsibility felt heavier tonight, almost suffocating, as she grappled with the changes Evelyn was determined to bring.
She had promised herself and, more importantly, she had promised her team that she’d do everything in her power to protect them and preserve the firehouse culture that Chief Becky Thompson had built from the ground up. Cass had spent her career in the shadow of Becky’s legacy, learning from the best, witnessing firsthand how a team could become a family. Now as their captain, she knew her crew looked to her for that same stability. Yet every time she was around Evelyn, she felt that foundation shake. It wasn’t just the attraction, though that alone unsettled her. It was the way Evelyn’s presence seemed to make her question everything she thought she knew, every instinct she’d honed under Becky’s guidance.
A nagging sense of guilt gnawed at her. Allowing herself to be distracted by Evelyn felt like a betrayal—not just to her team, but to Becky. Cass could almost hear Becky’s voice in her mind, that steady, patient tone reminding her of what mattered most. Her mentor had poured her soul into this department, building it on trust and unity, values Cass was now charged with defending. And yet here she was, feeling drawn to someone who saw numbers and efficiency where Cass saw people and purpose. Allowing Evelyn to get under her skin felt like she was failing in that duty, like she was letting Becky down by not standing stronger, more unyielding.
But there was no denying it—Evelyn did get to her. Cass hated how her pulse raced in Evelyn’s presence, how even in the heat of an argument, that spark was there, pulling her closer. She’d always been so sure of herself, of her purpose. Now, that certainty was blurring, leaving her feeling untethered at the exact moment her team needed her to be their anchor.
Cass straightened, fists clenching at her sides. She’d made it this far by staying true to what mattered, by putting her crew and their safety above everything. No matter what Evelyn stirred up in her, she couldn’t afford to let it weaken her resolve. Her team’s future depended on her ability to stand her ground, to fight for what she knew was right. This firehouse, these people—they deserved someone who could see past the numbers, someone who wouldn’t be swayed by a fleeting attraction. She had to be that person, for their sake and for Becky’s.
Cass pushed back in her chair, trying to ground herself, trying to remember that she was here for her team, for her department. Evelyn’s “efficiency” cuts didn’t just threaten her crew’s equipment; they undermined the trust and loyalty she’d worked so hard to build. But even as she mentally fortified herself with reasons to resist Evelyn, her thoughts kept drifting back to her. The woman was infuriatingly competent, every word and gesture so damn precise. The challenge she brought into Cass’s world was electric, a clash of wills that made Cass’s blood hum in a way she hadn’t anticipated, hadn’t wanted.
Standing up, Cass crossed the room, restless energy urging her to move, to walk off the tension coiling in her muscles. She paced back and forth, her boots clicking softly on the linoleum.
“This isn’t just about Evelyn,” she muttered, hands on her hips as if trying to talk herself out of the tangled mess of emotions. She told herself it was about her duty to protect the department and her crew, and yet every attempt to ground herself brought her right back to that moment in the meeting room—Evelyn’s face inches from hers, the air crackling with something intense and forbidden.
Cass remembered the way Evelyn’s gaze had softened, just for a flicker of a second before returning to that businesslike coolness. It was almost as if she had seen through the walls Cass put up, seen the fire that simmered beneath her frustration.And for one maddening, breathless moment, Cass had wanted to reach across the space between them, to break the distance with something as raw and unfiltered as the clash they’d just shared.
“Get a grip, Harris,” she scolded herself, but the words rang hollow in the empty room. How could she get a grip when her own mind seemed to betray her? When every rational thought of resistance was undercut by the undeniable pull she felt toward Evelyn Ford?
She knew she should hate her and should resent every cool, calculated suggestion Evelyn made about “efficiency” and “reallocating resources.” And she did. She truly did, with every fiber of her being. But that resentment had become tangled, interwoven with a different fire, a reckless draw that left her feeling exposed and unsure.
Cass paused, resting her hands on the counter and staring down at her reflection in the polished steel. The dim lights softened her features, her eyes shadowed and intense, the lines of tension evident even to her. She’d built her entire career on being unflappable, on being the steady, reliable captain her team could count on. And yet here she was, rattled by a woman who challenged everything she thought she knew about herself.
As she looked at her own reflection, Cass could almost hear Becky’s voice in her mind, that warm, familiar guidance she’d leaned on so many times before. Becky would tell her to push through, to let her instincts guide her, and to remember who she was fighting for. But that advice, that steadiness, felt different now, complicated by the mix of anger and attraction Evelyn had stirred up.
Her thoughts drifted back to the look on Evelyn’s face during their last argument—the flash of heat behind her eyes, the faint tremor in her voice when Cass pushed back. She wondered if Evelyn had felt it too, that strange, almost magnetic tension. Part of Cass wanted to believe it was just her, that Evelyn hadn’tnoticed the spark between them. But another part—a small, dangerous part—wanted to believe that maybe Evelyn had felt the same pull, the same unspoken, forbidden energy. And that terrified her more than anything.
Cass clenched her fists, jaw tight as she fought to regain control over her thoughts. This wasn’t her. She wasn’t someone who lost focus, who let a woman with a clipboard and a spreadsheet shake her up. But the more she tried to bury her attraction, the more it seemed to claw its way back to the surface, relentless and insistent.
Finally, Cass grabbed her coffee and took a long, bracing sip, as if the lukewarm bitterness could snap her out of this spiral. She reminded herself, yet again, that this was just another challenge, another person trying to make changes she didn’t believe in. But even as she forced herself to focus on the job, she couldn’t fully ignore the way Evelyn lingered in her thoughts like a storm cloud on the horizon, dark and powerful, promising something she wasn’t ready to confront.
As the night wore on, the quiet of the firehouse pressed around her, thick and heavy, and Cass knew sleep wouldn’t come easily. She’d spent countless nights running over tactics and strategies, thinking through ways to strengthen her team and protect them from any risk. But tonight, her mind refused to cooperate, slipping back to Evelyn’s voice, her steady, maddening gaze, and the possibility that maybe, just maybe, Cass was drawn to her not in spite of her resistance, but because of it.
With a sigh, Cass leaned back against the counter, closing her eyes for a brief moment and letting the tension wash over her. Tomorrow, she’d face Evelyn again—maybe spar, maybe clash—and try to drive a wedge between herself and the emotions she didn’t want to name. But tonight, as the quiet pressed in around her, Cass allowed herself to acknowledge the truth, just for afleeting second: Evelyn Ford had become more than just a thorn in her side; she’d become a fire, one that Cass wasn’t sure she wanted to extinguish.
It had been a quiet night thus far, though Cass knew better than to voice such a thing aloud. Glass in hand, she returned to the silence of her office, the door closing behind her with a soft click. She flopped down onto the pullout mattress that was a fixture of the captain’s office. No roughing it in the shared bunks for her these days.
God, even exhausted, she couldn’t get Evelyn out of her damn mind. None of her previous fascinations or even partners had captivated her this way. In fact, that was why pretty much all of her past relationships had fizzled and died; she couldn’t get her head off the job and on to them. But Evelyn had completely flipped her. The sharp staccato of her strides now played as a constant soundtrack in Cass’s head. The vision of her fine, perfectly made-up hair, with the same two strands flying out of place, glistening honey highlights on the light. She couldn’t kick the thought. Her voice—blunt, direct—sent needy shivers down her spine. And those perfectly manicured fingers. God, Cass could only imagine what she could do with those.
Her breathing grew shallow, and she felt her lips dry and the air around her became hot. Fuck. She shouldn’t do this; not at work.