CHAPTER ONE
AFTER TWO WEEKS of feeling the sun on his skin, and not having to bother with a razor, Ben Matthews had cut himself shaving. His uniform had felt unfamiliar and a little too crisp when he’d put it on this morning, but it was good to be back in a routine. The thing about holidays was that they gave him far too much time to think, and he was ready to get back to work now.
‘Good holiday?’ The fire station commander smiled across his desk, and Ben nodded.
‘Has anything been happening here that I should know about?’
‘I imagine you’ve already read the station reports?’ Ben nodded in response. ‘The only other thing is our visitor this morning.’
‘Yes?’ As the watch manager, Ben always liked to have a little warning if an inspection was taking place, but he had no concerns. It was a matter of both principle and pride that he and his crew were constantly ready for anything.
‘She’s a photographer. This is just a preliminary visit, she’ll be back again in a month to take photographs over Christmas. It’s partly her own project, to widen her portfolio, but we have an option to use any of the photographs she takes in our publicity campaigns and there’s also going to be a calendar, which we’ll be issuing at the end of next year.’
This all seemed very rushed. Ben wished he’d known about it when it had been in the planning stage, rather than being presented with a fait accompli. ‘And this has all been agreed?’
‘There wasn’t much time to set it up. Ms Walsh specifically requested that she take the photographs over Christmas to add authenticity to the calendar shots. She’s hoping to include some off-duty moments.’
Ben frowned. The only calendar he’d seen that had featured firefighters had involved underwear and Santa hats. And that was just the men...
‘This is going to be...done sensitively, I imagine?’
‘Of course. It’s a bit of fun but there’s a serious message, too. We want to raise public awareness about what we do, as well as raise money.’
‘Right.’ Ben was all for the serious message. Just as long as this photographer understood that too. ‘The crew knows about this?’
‘Yes, they’re all for it. Ms Walsh came in last week with her portfolio and showed us some of her work. I thought it was excellent, and there was some disappointment amongst the other crews when she chose to shadow Blue Watch.’
This photographer seemed to be calling all the shots. Not with his crew...
‘And you’ve given her a free hand?’
The station commander smiled. ‘I haven’t imposed any restrictions on her, if that’s what you mean. I know I can count on you to ensure the smooth running of the operation.’
‘In that case...’ Ben needed to get back to his crew. Now. Before this photographer started to think she did have a free hand and anyone persuaded anyone else that taking their shirts off was a good idea. ‘I’ll be getting on if there’s nothing else.’
‘No, nothing else.’ The station commander picked up a file from his desk, and Ben rose, heading for the door.
* * *
Ben opened the door of the ready room and found it empty. Of course it was. Gleaming red and chrome was sure to appeal as the backdrop for the calendar photographs. Walking downstairs into the garage, he heard voices and laughter.
‘No, I don’t think that’s going to work.’ A woman’s voice, clear and brimming with humour. ‘I’m after something a bit more spontaneous...’
‘Spontaneous, my eye.’ Ben muttered the words to himself, marching through the narrow gap between the two fire engines and almost bumping into a woman who was standing by the front one of them.
At least she was good at getting out of the way. That was exactly the kind of aptitude she’d need. Ben caught a trace of her scent before she stepped quickly to one side and he came face to face with Eve and Pete, in full protective gear, standing beside the chrome fender, both with fixed smiles on their faces. That looked absolutely fine to him but, then, he wasn’t in the business of art photography.
‘Okay...let’s break it up.’ It seemed that the rest of the crew had decided that the taking of a few photographs required them to stand around watching. ‘Give us a minute, will you?’
‘Good to see you back, boss.’ Eve grinned at him, taking her helmet off and unbuttoning her jacket. Ben heard the click of a camera shutter beside him and turned to the woman standing next to him as the crew dispersed quickly.
‘Hi. I’m Callie Walsh.’ She was holding the camera loosely in one hand, the other stretched out towards him. ‘You must be Ben Matthews.’
‘Yes.’ Ben shook her hand briskly, omitting to say that he was pleased to meet her. ‘The station commander told me you’d be here.’
She nodded, looking up at him. She had green eyes, the kind that seemed wholly dedicated to making a man stare into them, and the prettiest face he’d seen in a long while. The softness stopped there. Her short, corn-blonde hair was streaked with highlights and slicked back from her face. Spray-on jeans, a fitted leather jacket with more zips than seemed entirely necessary, and a look of determination on her face gave the overall impression of a woman who knew how to steamroller her way over pretty much anything.
Instinctively, Ben stepped back, leaning against the chrome on the front of the fire engine. When she raised her camera, pointing the bulky lens in his direction, he frowned.
‘Before you take any more photographs, I think there are a few ground rules we need to have in place.’
‘Of course.’ Her face was impassive, and Ben wondered what she was thinking. That didn’t matter. It didn’t matter what he thought either. What mattered was the well-being and effectiveness of his crew.
‘This is a working fire station...’
‘I understand that. I know how to keep out of the way.’
That had only been his first concern. There were many more. ‘As Watch Manager I’m responsible for the safety of everyone connected with Blue Watch...’ His gaze drifted to the high heels of her boots. What she was wearing didn’t come close to practical, if she was reckoning on venturing anywhere other than the ready room.
She seemed to read his thoughts. ‘I’m hoping to just get everyone used to the idea of me being here today. I won’t be accompanying you to any calls...’
‘You won’t be doing anything, at any time, unless I allow it.’
Perhaps he should qualify that. She could do whatever she liked, as long as she didn’t mess with him or his crew. Callie was regarding him thoughtfully, as if she was assessing her next move.
‘I can handle myself in emergency situations and I know how to follow operational and safety guidelines.’ She unzipped her jacket, pulling a sheet of folded paper from an inside pocket. ‘You probably haven’t had a chance to look at my CV yet, but when you do you’ll see that I’m a paramedic.’
If she’d been trying to surprise him, she’d pulled off a master stroke. When he took the paper, it seemed warm to the touch. Ben put that down to his imagination, rather than the heat of her body.
‘When did you change jobs?’ He unfolded the paper, scanning it.
‘I didn’t. I did an evening course in photography when I was at school and found that I can take a decent portrait. The income from that helped put me through my training as a paramedic, but now I want to extend my range a little. I think my first-hand experience of working with the emergency services gives me something unique to bring to this project.’
It was either a canny career move or some kind of personal crusade. It was difficult to tell what sparked the passion that shone in her eyes, and it really wasn’t Ben’s job to decide. All he needed to concern himself with was the practicalities, not whatever made Callie Walsh tick.
‘All the same, I’d like to have first sight of all the photographs you take...’
Callie shook her head. ‘That’s not the way I work.’
‘It’s the way I intend to work.’
The edges of her mouth curved slightly, as if she already had her answer ready and had been waiting for the right time to slap him down.
‘Then you’ll have to adapt. I decide which of my photographs goes forward, and they go to the individuals concerned first, so they can review them and choose whether they want to sign a release. After that they go to the station commander. It’s all agreed and I’m sure he’ll show them to you if you ask nicely.’
Ben ignored the jibe. The procedure sounded reasonable enough but he would have no hesitation in circumnavigating it if he saw any threat to the welfare of the firefighters on his watch.
‘All right. But if I feel that any of the photographs are inappropriate, I won’t hesitate to block them.’
She folded her arms. ‘You want to give me some artistic direction? What do you mean by “inappropriate”?’
He shouldn’t feel embarrassed about this, even if her green eyes did seem to rob him of his capacity to stay dispassionate. It was simply an observation.
‘I won’t have any of my crew treated as...eye candy.’
Ben had expected she might protest. But her gaze travelled from his face, looking him up and down slowly. He tried to suppress the shiver that ran up his spine.
‘You think you’d be good eye candy?’
Ben had a healthy regard for disdain, particularly when it emanated from a beautiful woman. It was almost refreshing.
‘No, that’s just my point.’
‘Good. We’re in agreement, then. Anything else?’ Callie smiled. Her face became softer when she did that, and the temptation to enjoy this confrontation became almost overwhelming.
‘Don’t leave any of your equipment around. I don’t want anyone tripping over anything.’
‘I’m looking for spontaneity, not posed shots, and my camera is all I need. I never leave it around.’
‘Okay. And if the alarm sounds, I need you out of the way. Quickly.’
‘Understood. I’ll flatten myself against the nearest wall.’ Her gaze met his, and the thought of crowding her against a wall and kissing her burst into Ben’s head. Maybe he’d muss her hair a little first and find out whether the soft centre that her lustrous eyes hinted at really did exist.
He dismissed the idea. If the alarm sounded, that would be the last thing he should be thinking about. And if it didn’t then it was still the last thing he should be thinking about.
‘That’s great. Thank you.’
‘My pleasure. May I get on and take a few shots now?’
‘Yes, please do.’ Ben turned, and walked away from her.
Maybe...
There was no maybe about it. Callie took his breath away. He’d aired his concerns less tactfully than usual because her mesmerising gaze had the power to make him forget all his reservations about her presence here. Even now, he was so preoccupied by the temptation to look back and catch another glimpse of her that he almost forgot he’d intended to go back his office and found himself heading on autopilot towards the ready room.
He didn’t need this kind of complication. He’d been burned once, and if he allowed himself to be burned again, that would be entirely his fault. This was a professional relationship, and that was where it began and ended.
* * *
Callie watched his back as he walked away. Gorgeous. One hundred percent, knee-shakingly gorgeous. Dark, brooding looks, golden skin and bright blue eyes that the camera was sure to fall in love with. It was a shame about the attitude.
But he’d only said the things she’d known already. Stay out of the way. Treat the people she photographed with respect. Maybe he’d loosen up a bit when he saw that she knew how to handle herself.
Callie almost hoped that he wouldn’t. If this guy ever actually got around to smiling at her, she’d be tempted to throw herself at him. If she wanted to avoid all the woman-traps that her mother had fallen into over the years, it would be a great deal easier if Ben Matthews didn’t smile. Ever.
* * *
Ben had watched her all morning, and had hardly got a thing done. His crew, on the other hand, had been subtly persuaded to get on with their jobs, while Callie observed. She asked questions, laughed at everyone’s jokes, and made a few self-deprecating ones of her own. It was all designed to put them at their ease, wipe the fixed smiles from their faces and get them to act naturally.
He saw her quietly lining up a few shots from the corner of the garage, and Ben had puzzled over why she should want them. Then the alarm sounded and she was suddenly back in that spot. He realised that it was the optimum out-of-the-way location to catch the movement of men and women, and then the noisy rush as the fire engine started up and swept out of the garage. She was good.
Maybe the professional thing to do was to try giving her the benefit of the doubt. He’d assumed that Callie was all about the cliché, but everything she’d done so far told him that she was all about the reality. Ben waited for a lull in the morning’s activity and saw her heading for the ready room. He followed her, pouring himself a cup of coffee.
‘Would you like one?’ He gestured towards his own cup and Callie shot him a suspicious look. He probably deserved that.
‘No, thanks. A glass of water...’ She pursed her lips and something in her eyes told him that one of the quiet, dry jokes he’d heard her share with the crew was coming. ‘If you trust me not to throw it all over you, that is.’
‘You’re thinking about it?’
‘I’m told that wet fireman shots are very popular.’ She smiled suddenly, and Ben reconsidered the dilemma that had been bugging him all morning. The best thing about Callie wasn’t the way she moved, or her long legs, or even her bright green eyes. It was her smile.
‘I guess I deserve that.’
‘I guess you do.’
The sound of ice breaking crackled in his ears as he filled a glass from the water dispenser. Ben walked over to the table, leaving an empty seat between his and hers when he sat down.
Callie was watching him thoughtfully. ‘Your concerns are reasonable. Everyone wonders what a photographer is going to make of them, and one of the issues that was raised when I visited last week was that I didn’t glamorise your work.’
Ben had missed that. Maybe that was why his crew all seemed so relaxed around her. She’d already talked about the kind of photos she intended to take, and they knew what he hadn’t stopped to find out. Perhaps he should try asking questions before he jumped to conclusions.
‘Why did you choose Blue Watch?’
‘Because you’re the only ones on duty over the whole of the Christmas period.’
Of course. Ben felt suddenly foolish.
‘If there’s anything else you want to ask me...’ Her gaze dropped from his face suddenly and she started to fiddle with her camera.
There was something. ‘You say you’re just an observer. But you frame your shots. I saw you scoping out the best place to stand when the alarm rang.’
This time she thought about her answer. ‘Sometimes you have to be in the right place to see things clearly.’
Callie reached for the tablet on the table in front of her. Switching it on, she flipped through the photographs. ‘What do you think of this one? Is it an accurate representation?’
Ben caught his breath. It wasn’t just a photograph of a fire engine leaving the station, she’d caught the movement and urgency, hinting somehow at the noise and the touch of adrenaline that accompanied it. Ben hadn’t thought that would be possible unless you’d lived those moments.
‘That’s really good.’ Really good didn’t sum it up. But, then, he was no art critic. ‘I’d say it was accurate.’
‘Thanks.’ She stood up suddenly. ‘I’d better get on.’
Ben watched her walk away from him. Perhaps that was the attraction. A beautiful woman who could walk away without looking back.
But maybe that was just the last eighteen months talking. He and Isabel had never really been right for each other, but he’d been intoxicated by her soft beauty. When he’d realised that it wasn’t going to work between them, he’d tried to break things off gently, but Isabel wouldn’t have it. Texts, phone calls. Looking out of his window to see her car parked outside at all hours of the day or night. And then the real craziness had started...
That was over now, and he didn’t want to think about it. He wasn’t particularly proud of the way he’d handled things and Isabel hadn’t contacted him in months. A woman walking away from him was just that—not some sign that there was someone out there who could make him feel the things that had come so easily before he’d met Isabel.
He studiously ignored Callie for the rest of the day. She was making a good job of keeping out of the way, and that suited Ben just fine.
Copyright © 2018 by Annie Claydon