Free Hell, Fire & Freedom (Fighting for Freedom) by Shannon Callahan

latte punched in and hollered out, but I’m lost on the calendar. Wren steps up beside me, to help.
    “I’ve got just what you’re looking for,” Wren says, leaning into the cash register to punch in a code before pulling a calendar from under the counter. “And if you stick around long enough, you can catch each and every one of these bad boys in here,” Wren says excitedly. She sets the calendar on the counter, and I catch my first glimpse.
    There are twelve shirtless fire fighters—all greased up—standing outside of their fire station. Immediately, my eye catches the one dead center. I’d recognize him anywhere. He doesn’t have that just rolled out of bed look in the photo, though; he’s half naked and full of dirt, grease, and rippling hard muscle. I start to feel faint, so I grab the edge of the counter for balance.
    “Earth to Brynn!” I hear called out, and I look back up at Wren who, along with the customer, is now laughing at me.
    “You might want to wipe that drool from the corner of your mouth,” she says before bursting into laughter again.
    I turn bright red instantly and bend down to grab the woman’s muffin, hoping they didn’t notice my change in complexion. Just great, now I look like a total pervert. But hey, I wasn’t the one buying the calendar, right? I will own one, though, so help me God. I pop back up with her bagged muffin just in time to hear that sexy drawl.
    “Like what you see ladies? Just wait until you see August, you do know that’s the hottest month of the year, right?” he asks with a cocky grin.
    I watch as my female customer, who is standing beside him, starts fanning herself with the calendar. He turns his chiseled jaw my way, and I can tell the exact moment he lays eyes on me. Our eyes meet, and his grin turns into a pained smile.
    I remember the words I spoke to him the last time I saw him and how I managed to make a complete ass of myself. If it’s possible, I turn a few shades redder. I try and rectify the situation quickly by turning away from him and back to the customer. I hand her the muffin, but she keeps her eyes trained on Blaze.
    “You can show me how hot August is any month, fireman,” she says, trailing her finger down his chest.
    I can feel my blood boiling, so I turn and grab her latte from Amber, one of the baristas on shift today. I fight the urge to spit in it before handing it to the flirty customer. I steal a quick glance at Blaze, who’s removing her finger from his chest. I have no idea where the jealousy inside of me is coming from, and I don’t like it.
    “Well, ma’am, thank you for supporting the Burn Unit; you know how much that means to us over at the station,” he says politely. She doesn’t seem fazed by the rejection at all. She winks at him before turning on her fabulous heels and walking through the front door.
    I realize he’s now next in line, and I’m going to have to wait on him. Great.
    Deep breaths, Brynn .
    I plaster on the biggest fake smile I can and hope I don’t look as embarrassed as I feel.
    “Welcome to Frothy Moustache, how may I help you?” I breathe out. Yes, breathe out. My attempt at conveying professionalism is bogged down by my hormones again. What is it with this guy?
    “Good day ... Brynn,” he says, staring at my chest. Wait, how did he know my name?
    “Your name tag,” he answers with a knowing smirk. “It’s nice to finally meet you. Really glad I’ll be seeing more of you, too. There’s a line, though, so I won’t keep you. I’ll have six large black coffees and a dozen muffins. Your choice, of course.”
    I notice he’s turned off the charm he usually radiates, and I know it’s because of the last time we ran in to each other. I should be relieved, but honestly I’m feeling a little disappointed.
    I ring him through anxiously and call out his order to Amber, before setting about grabbing his muffins. I can feel his gaze burning through me, but I manage to keep my eyes from