The Firefighter's Fiance. Kate Hardy

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      His job had won.

      All the same…A picture of Kelsey flashed into his mind. Short hair, cheeky grin, sparkling grey eyes. Kirk had called her tall and skinny—no, that wasn’t true. Matt had trained in the gym with her enough times when they had been on nights and wanted to wind down at the end of their shifts. Tall, yes; slender, yes; but Kelsey definitely had curves. And the way she looked in a plain black swimsuit was enough to make any man’s blood pressure rise a couple of notches.

      He shook himself. He was not about to wreck a seriously good relationship by dating her. Kelsey was his sounding board. The person he’d listen to at three in the morning if she needed him—and he knew that she’d do exactly the same for him. His best friend. His housemate. Dating each other would be a disaster. One of them would end up having to find a new place to live. No, it was best to keep things as they were.

      The open windows told Kelsey that Matt was home. Good. So she wasn’t going to have to juggle her briefcase and the carrier bag full of take-away Indian food and use her frontdoor key at the same time. She pushed down the handle of the front door with her elbow and swung her hip to open the door. Perfect. She closed the door with another swing of her hips.

      Matt appeared in the living-room doorway. ‘A normal person would ring the doorbell. Or at least accept help.’

      ‘You can help if you want to.’ She grinned and handed him the carrier bag. ‘Dinner is served, m’lord.’

      ‘Good. I’m starving. I nearly raided your chocolate stash.’

      ‘You’d better not have done.’ She set her briefcase on the floor and followed him into the kitchen. ‘I’m studying tonight.’Although the fire service had changed their training so you didn’t have to sit a raft of promotional exams any more, you still needed to know the theory and technical details, so you could prove that you knew what you were doing and met the competencies to go up to the next grade. Which meant studying. ‘I need that chocolate,’ she added. ‘It’s Friday night. Aren’t you going out?’

      ‘Not tonight. I want to do a couple of hours’ studying and then just chill.’ She smiled inwardly when she saw the neatly set table in their kitchen-diner. Typical Matt. All the other people she knew in the emergency services would just take the cardboard off the take-away foil container and dig in with a spoon. Matt was much, much more domesticated. Though, to look at him right now, with his shaggy hair and the fact he needed a shave, nobody would guess it. He looked more like a guitarist in a rock band than a paramedic. He looked sexy as hell.

      And she really had to stop thinking about that before she screwed up their friendship. Matt was off limits.

      ‘So how was your day?’ he asked, taking the lid off the pilau rice and spooning the rice onto their plates.

      ‘OK. We had a quiet afternoon after that RTC—just a kitchen fire that was out by the time we got there. Did you know, there was a newspaper report today that most RTCs happen between four and seven on a Friday afternoon?’

      ‘I can believe it. Mixture of the “thank God it’s Friday” feeling and people being physically tired at the end of the week. Their concentration goes.’ Matt beamed when he opened the next lid. ‘Oh, you star. Chicken kashmiri. My favourite.’

      ‘And far better than if I’d cooked it for you.’

      ‘Yep. Means we don’t have to call your lot to put out the flames in the oven—or my lot to rescue us from the food poisoning afterwards,’ he teased.

      ‘Oh, ha, ha.’ She walked over to the fridge. ‘Two nights, then four blissful days off.’ Luckily their shifts were pretty much the same. Her night shifts were slightly longer than Matt’s, but at least one of them didn’t have to creep around the house on days off while the other was on nights.

      ‘Nearly twenty-four hours until I’m due back in at the station. I could go wild and have a few beers tonight. But I need a clear head to work on my fire management stuff. So I think I’ll stick to just the one.’ She uncapped two bottles and brought them over to the table. It had taken her six months to persuade Matt that cold beer tasted better from a bottle than a glass. And why make extra washing-up?

      He finished dishing up the curry, then lifted his bottle in salute. ‘Cheers. Here’s to us. Top team.’

      ‘Top team,’ she echoed.

      Which they were. Since she’d shared the house with Matt, she’d always felt she was coming home, not just going back to rented digs.

      Not that she and Matt had that type of relationship. They were just friends. Best of friends. Had been ever since he’d moved into the house eighteen months ago, when his engagement to Cassie had broken up and Sarah—the paramedic who’d originally shared the house with Kelsey—had asked her if Matt could use their spare room for a few nights.

      But it had worked so well that Matt had stayed. And although Sarah had moved out to live with her boyfriend in London a few months ago, Matt and Kelsey hadn’t bothered replacing the third person in the house. It was comfortable, just the two of them.

      Cassie had been crazy, Kelsey thought. She really couldn’t have had any idea what she had missed. What she had given up. A smart, funny guy who was good at his job, respected by everyone—and was domesticated into the bargain.

      Mr Perfect.

      Except Kelsey wasn’t going to let herself take that last step. Been there, done that. She wasn’t giving herself the chance ever again to lose anyone who mattered to her. Besides, why wreck the best relationship she’d ever had for a short-term fling?

      ‘Penny for them?’ Matt asked.

      Oh, no. She wasn’t going to tell him that. She smiled. ‘Nothing much. How was your day, by the way?’

      ‘Usual summer Friday. One case of heatstroke in the park; one bad back from someone who’d overdone it in the garden yesterday and couldn’t even get out of bed; then a maternataxi case.’

      Paramedic jargon for a pregnant woman who’d left it way too late to ring the maternity unit to say she was having contractions, then had to be rushed to hospital in an ambulance—and Kelsey knew that Matt had delivered a few babies in his time.

      ‘Then it was your RTA—’

      ‘RTC,’ Kelsey corrected.

      ‘RTA,’ Matt continued with a grin. ‘I’m using ambo terminology, not fire. After you, there was a possible heart attack, and then it was the end of my shift. Did you have a lousy day before the RTA?’

      ‘School safety visit this morning, one out-of-control barbecue at lunchtime—can you believe that people actually think it’s a good idea to throw lighter fuel on top of a lit barbecue?’ She flexed her shoulders. ‘I enjoyed doing the safety visit.’

      ‘You always do. It’s the teacher in you,’ Matt said.

      ‘Well, I’m not a teacher any more. Never was, really.’ She shrugged. ‘I walked out before I qualified.’

      ‘Ever СКАЧАТЬ