Hot Billionaire Rescued: So Hot Billionaires, #9

By Melody Love

Hank is a successful billionaire who always wanted to be a firefighter when he got older. He wanted to follow in his father's footsteps who was a lifelong firefighter for the city. However, he ended up in the business world instead and decided to volunteer as a firefighter. 

 

He's asked to speak to a class of 2nd graders about fire safety during October, fire safety month. He gladly does but never expects to fall for the teacher.

Elsie is a 2nd grade teacher. She loves kids and wanted to be a teacher her whole life. Fire safety is no joke to her as she was rescued from her burning family home as a young child. She's always felt like she's owed her life to the firefighter who saved her. 

 

Elsie quickly falls for Hank, and their lives are forever changed when they discover a connection they have. But a stood up date leaves Elsie questioning everything with Hank. Will their relationship last or is the saying, where there's smoke there's fire, true?

 

A HEA that shows we are all connected in ways that can change our lives forever.

• Language: English
• Publisher: DM
• Release date: May 25, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393457602

Book preview

HOT BILLIONAIRE RESCUED

By Melody Love

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2020 Melody Love

––––––––

Click here to get a FREE book for a limited time

Chapter One – Hank

Gobs of thick black smoke poured from an upper window of the apartment building, billowing around a woman’s pale face. She waved her arms in the air over her head, causing the smoke to swirl and obscure her from sight. The air cleared a second later. The woman still stood leaning out through the window, both hands clasped over her mouth as she coughed. Though I was too far away to hear her, I felt every wrenching breath in my chest as if it was my own.

When’s the ladder getting here? I demanded, grabbing the nearest full-time firefighter.

The man, named Duke, lifted his shoulders in a heavy shrug. Should be here any minute now, Hank. You’ll be the first to know.

Any minute now isn’t fast enough, I growled. I turned away from Duke and paced, surveying the unfolding events. Flames leapt from the roof of the apartment building, glowing orange tongues lashing the air through every gap. What should have been an ordinary kitchen fire had turned into a conflagration, a maelstrom of flame. Caught unaware, I and the rest of my team didn’t have the right amount or type of equipment with us.

Unable to assist until the proper supplies arrived, we could only watch, wait, and hope for the best.

Some of the other firefighters had their hands full with holding the crowd back, escorting those who had fled at the sound of the fire alarms to safer locations. However, most of the team, myself included, could do nothing to help without also putting themselves in danger. Meanwhile, there were people trapped in that upper apartment at risk of smoke inhalation—and worse.

I paced, shoulders tense under my suit. Police cars lined the street leading up to the apartment, casting red-and-blue lights in alternating patterns on the fronts of houses. It looked like the end of the world, especially as the black smoke started to cover the sky like storm clouds, and sounded like them too, with sirens wailing and alarms blaring and voices shouting for answers they couldn’t receive.

The woman up at the window gripped the sill and hiked her leg up, like she was about to climb out on her own.

I yelled out in alarm. I spun, searching for some sign of the fire engine carrying the much-needed ladder. My best friend, Trevor, should be behind the wheel, driving as fast as the lengthy engine could go, but there was no sign of him. Outside of the immediate area of the fire, the streets of Pleasantville lay still and silent.

I turned back to the burning building. I’d had enough of waiting. I slapped my helmet on and charged for the main entrance, ramming my shoulder into the door to send it flying open. A gray haze of smoke filled the lobby, pulsing in my direction to escape through the opened door. I pulled in what would be my last breath of fresh air for some time and ran to the stairs, bounding up them two and three at a time. The heavy fireproof suit bounced and jostled around my body. I fought against the drag, reached the second floor landing, and continued on up the stairs to the third and final floor.

Visibility dropped to little more than two feet in front of me. The swirling black smoke created rippling shadows, vague silhouettes. I squinted but couldn’t tell the difference between a doorway and a potted plant. I called out, Hello? Is anyone here?

I held my breath, straining my hearing. The crackling roar of the fire and my pounding heart drowned out all else. I gritted my teeth and twisted to face the nearest door. I slammed my shoulder against it, snapping the flimsy lock. I darted inside and pivoted in a slow circle, taking in the living room and kitchenette, the hallway leading to the left. I could see better, breathe better.

Is anyone here? I yelled. I’m a firefighter!

I heard nothing in response. Wanting to be sure, I ran down the hall and checked in the two bedrooms and bathroom. No one called for me, and I didn’t see anyone. On the way out of the abandoned apartment, I made note of a half-made peanut butter sandwich on the counter. Whoever lived here had been interrupted and left in a hurry. I had to assume they were safe.

I left the apartment and checked the one across the hall. No one had lived there recently, I could tell in an instant. All the rooms were barren.

I went back out into the hall and that was when I heard it: a thin and plaintive cry that might easily have been mistaken for a cat’s meow.

I whirled in the direction he thought he heard the sound come from. An apartment door stood a few inches ajar. I pushed the door open and stepped into the room beyond. For all the smoke, I could tell it was a nice little pad. My boot knocked against something. I kneeled and picked up the item, turning it over in my gloved hand.

A toy firetruck.

The coincidence struck me as bitter. I shoved it aside.

A whimper from deeper in the apartment got me moving. I pulled off my mask. Younger children could be afraid of the big scary yellow monsters who came to rescue them.

Is someone in here? I called. I breathed shallowly, but my lungs quickly hurt from inhaling smoke. I’m here to take you to your mommy and daddy.

If I was a child, where would I be hiding?

I stuck my head into a room and just barely managed to make out more toys covering the floor. Two hulking shadows against the wall might have been bunkbeds. Whoever lived here had a lot of kids. Could one have been forgotten in the chaos? My heart ached. I opened my mouth to call out again when movement from the corner of the room caught my attention. A soot-smudged little face peeped out at me from around one of the bunk beds.

I only have a mommy, the little boy said. His little voice was hoarse, raspy.

I went over to him and crouched in front of him. I’ll take you to her. Come on. I held out my arms.

The little boy peered up at my face and then at the toy in my hand. He crawled out from behind the bed and came to me, putting his thin arms around my neck. I picked him up and got him out of there as fast as possible.

After the smoky interior of the apartment, the cool, dry fall air tasted great.

A young woman behind the safety line let out a wail of relief at the sight of me. Three other children clustered around her legs, clinging to her. Tommy! she cried. She pushed past the police officer she’d been speaking to and ran to me. The cop tried to stop her, but his partner grabbed him and shook his head. Good man. No mother should ever be kept from her children, not for any reason.

The young mother grabbed Tommy into her arms and held him tight. He clutched his toy and cried, burying his face in her breasts. Thank you. Thank you, Hank!

I nodded and turned away, meaning to head back into the building to find anymore trapped survivors. A minute, even a few seconds, could mean the difference between life and death.

Hey, idiot. Trevor grabbed my shoulder, pulling me back to him. You aren’t going to try that stunt again. The ladder’s here now.

I looked past him, at the cherry-red firetruck parked below the open window where the woman had been. A female firefighter had her, carrying her effortlessly down the ladder. Another firefighter waited at the bottom to help her, while a third waited in the room with another survivor. The situation was handled, but it was a long way from being over.

Are there more inside? I asked Trevor, ignoring his idiot comment. I had done what I had to.

Not according to what we know, he informed me. We’re getting the hoses hooked up around back.

The young man responsible for starting the fire had wisely opened his kitchen window before fleeing. Preliminary reports said he’d tried to put out a grease fire and it got out of control. A normal quantity of water on a grease fire spelled trouble; the hoses would provide more than enough to douse the kitchen. Even if the fire didn’t go out entirely, the majority of the danger would be gone and we could go in to do the rest manually. A proper sweep of the building would be performed at that point, too.

You couldn’t have waited, Hank? Trevor lowered his voice. I was a minute away. What you did was foolish.

I couldn’t have waited, I confirmed.

Trevor sighed, and then he laughed and clapped me on the back. Okay. Good job getting the kid out. Put your mask back on before the Chief sees and come help unwind the rest of the hoses.

Yes, sir, I said sarcastically. Trevor grabbed my mask and shoved it on my head before walking off.

I followed, broke out ahead of him, and beat him to the hoses. Adrenaline pulsed through my veins. I rode the high waves, using the extra energy to push myself through the tiredness as the hours dragged on. Even as simple a call as this was, it wasn’t easy. Not for us, and not for the people who lived in that building, who would now have to deal with the aftermath. Possessions were ruined. The stench of smoke might never entirely fade, a constant reminder of this day for the inhabitants.

It was almost a relief to return to my office in the neighboring city of Ivory. Almost. That call for the fire had pulled me away from work and there was much still to be done. Even though I had showered and changed before coming back, the odor of smoke and fire extinguisher chemicals clung to my hair, my skin. It was distracting. I didn’t get much done.

My cell phone buzzed around midnight, breaking me out of the stupor I’d been in, staring at paperwork. I pulled it out of my pocket and checked the text.

Trevor: You see the news?

I put my phone down and swiveled in my chair. I grabbed a TV remote from my desk and pointed it at the flat-screen on the wall. The channel was already set to the local news. As expected, as Trevor’s message indicated, the Pleasantville fire was being discussed on the current segment.

A newscaster with matte, dyed brown hair looked at the camera with a seriousness that indicated she was pretty new to the job. What could have been a catastrophe was handled swiftly and with expertise by the Griffin Township Fire Department. Hank Phillips, owner of the multi-billion-dollar corporation Cascade Tourism, and volunteer firefighter, made an appearance to help save the day.

A bit of footage played off to the side of the newscaster, showing me exiting the burning building with the little boy in my arms. The young mother ran up in front of me, obscuring the shot for whoever was filming. The camera bobbed around briefly as the cameraman searched for a new angle before cutting off abruptly. I chuckled. The focus shouldn’t be on me, anyway. I did what I did because I loved to do it, not for the attention it got me. I could have a ton of that already if I wanted, which I didn’t.

When asked to give us a statement after the fire was put out, Hank declined. Fire Chief Bernard Crampton had this to say in his place.

Bernard Crampton appeared on the screen, gray-haired and bushy-eyebrowed. They say the camera adds ten pounds to your appearance. For Bernard, that extra weight unfortunately went to those eyebrows of his. He spoke gruffly, too close to the microphone that was admittedly being shoved into his face by a reporter who was eager for news after being turned down by me.

We’re at the tail end of a hot summer coming into the dry fall months. Fires are a real concern. One could spread out of control and affect the surrounding areas. With Cataract Falls so close by, that’s exactly what we don’t want. Bernard cleared his voice. The speakers on my TV nearly blew out. It’s thanks to first-responders like the GTFD and the Pleasantville PD that citizens can live safely and sleep contentedly.

The newscaster returned. There were no casualties as a result of the fire, though one person was hospitalized for smoke inhalation.

A warm glow of pride burned inside me at those words. No casualties. I’d have liked it if no one was hurt at all, but I had long since learned to take what I could get with a job like this.

I turned off the TV and texted Trevor back. A job well done. My favorite kind of fire.

I set my phone back down. The screen lit up again. I frowned at it, thinking it was Trevor again, but the continued vibration told me it was a call rather than a text. I hesitated, torn between eagerness and reluctance. This could well mean another fire I had to fight in, and more people suffering. It could also mean that I wouldn’t have to suffer at this desk any longer.

I picked up my phone and answered the call without checking who it was from. Hank Phillips.

Close, but my name’s Ron.

I groaned with relief and disgust at the dad joke. Dad. Hey.

I just saw you on the television, Dad said. His voice was warm. Looked like a rough one. You looked real good.

Thanks. I leaned back in my chair. That poor kid. He’s probably never going to cook again. Or at least not for a few days.

Dad laughed. Maybe he’ll look into getting some lessons. Or a girlfriend. I should probably let you go. I just wanted to say I saw you.

Dad was a retired firefighter himself. No one could so much as light a candle without him knowing about it, like he had a sixth sense for smoke.

I rubbed my fingers through my hair. Now, hold on. I’d be a lousy son if I didn’t have a few minutes on a Friday night to spare for my dad.

How about Saturday morning?

I checked the clock on the wall and confirmed that it was indeed Saturday now. Technically. Well, my schedule’s pretty busy right now but I think I can still spare some time.

Dad didn’t say anything at first. I could tell from the silence that he was smiling. Except, I was proven wrong when he spoke again and his voice was serious. Might want to think about making spare time for other things.

I held back anther groan, this one more out of annoyance than amusement. Okay. So how’s retirement treating you?

Just like that, we were back on track. For now.

Chapter Two – Elsie

I rang the doorbell beside the door at the little red house and stepped back. My arms ached from everything I was holding. I refused to put any of it down. I’d gotten it all balanced so precariously, I’d probably drop all of it if I so much as moved the wrong way.

The inner door opened. Behind the screen door stood an elderly black woman, wearing a big flower hat and a baggy pastel dress. She looked charming, like someone’s grandmother. I hoped that’s exactly who she was.

Hi, I said, my name is Elsie Carr. I’m a teacher at Pleasantville Elementary School.

The old woman’s lips pulled into a wide smile, showing off a pair of ill-fitting dentures. Of course! I recognize you from some of the school functions. Tommy’s in your class? No. He’s not old enough.

I ignored the pain in my arms and smiled back, delighted that she knew who I was. It was a small town, but still. I did like knowing I had made an impression upon people before I met them. Judging by her welcoming behavior, it was a good impression I’d made. He will be next year. I teach the 1st grade, plus 4th grade typing class.

My, my. Typing at such a young age. When I learned typing, it was for my first job. She shook her head. But that’s enough of an old woman gabbing about her glory days. What can I help you with, Miss Carr?

Elsie is fine. I bounced the packages in my arms, hoping she’d take notice. I heard about the fire at the apartment. It’s awful, isn’t it?

It sure is. The smoke and water went all through the vents. Only the residents on the first floor are back in their apartments. The rest of the building still has to go through safety inspection and even then, it’s not looking good. That’s why Tommy and his mother, my daughter-in-law, are staying here for a few days. And the rest of the kids.

I thanked the heavens that my intel had been reliable. I know there’ll need to be a lot of cleaning. A lot of belongings will have to be thrown out. That’s why I thought I’d stop by. I bounced my packages again. This time, the old woman seemed to realize I wasn’t just there to give my condolences and leave. I have some nieces and nephews I went ahead and bought Christmas presents for. But they’ve already outgrown the clothes and lost interest in these kinds of toys. I meant to donate them, but I think I know a group of children who could use them.

Her eyes welled with tears and she pushed her hands to her breast, over her heart. Oh, Elsie. That’s so sweet and kind of you. But are you certain?

I am, I confirmed. I smiled at her over the tops of the packages. The air stank of smoke, making my stomach turn, but I fought through it and kept my smile. Are the kids home?

They’re actually all out looking for new clothes right now. The old woman shook her head. I think I’d better call them and ask them to come see what you’ve brought first. Would you like to stay and see them? I have cookies and lemonade. She took a few of the boxes from me and set them on a table just inside the door. Sweet, blessed relief. I’d been starting to fear my arms would fall off.

That’s kind of you, but I have a dentist appointment to go to and I can’t afford to be late, I lied right through my teeth, which didn’t actually need any dental work at all.

The old woman shifted the rest of the boxes I’d brought, a few at a time. If you’re certain... May I hug you?

I laughed and reached out for her. She took my arms and pulled me in, holding me tight in one of those famous old-lady hugs that smell like baby powder but feel like magic. She leaned back, still gripping my arms. You go above and beyond for this community, honey. Don’t neglect your own needs. Or the needs of those nieces and nephews I didn’t know you had.

Uh-oh.

Her shrewd black eyes cut right through my fib. I couldn’t stop myself and looked away, probably confirming for her that I’d lied. They live far away.

So far away you’ve never mentioned them before. Or your brother or sister who had them. Can’t have babies without parents. She gave another smile, deeper and slower than before. But that’s none of my business. I’ll tell Molly your story and she’ll be none the wiser. Thank you, Elsie. You are a special kind of woman.

My heart skipped a beat. I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about but thank you. I’ll see you at the next... school event.

I turned around and got out of there before I made a bigger fool of myself than I already made. I got into my car and drove away, heading back towards home while pretending not to see the old woman grinning and waving at me from her window.

Another car, more beat-up and somehow also more stylish than mine, pulled up into the driveway just before I got there. My best friend, my roommate, Gretchen, stepped out of her vehicle and crossed her arms over her chest, frowning at me. Gretchen frowned a lot, but it seemed pretty serious this time.

I got out of my car and shut the door behind me. Hey, what’s up? I asked, tilting my head.

Gretchen pointed an accusatory finger at my chest. I held up my hands, tried to back up, and ran into my car. Gretchen waggled her index finger at me. You said you were going to run errands today.

I did!

So tell me why you visited the five people reported to be the most affected by the fire? she demanded. Starting with that kid who caused the whole thing and ending with that big family?

I stared at her, amazed and appalled by how much she had learned. How can you know all that?

I am an investigative reporter, babe. Nothing gets past me. Gretchen stuck out her hip and fluffed at her hair with her hand.

I shook my head. You’re a drama blogger.

That’s vlogger, with a ‘V.’ And it’s the same thing! Well, it’s easier to research about you. You don’t try to cover your tracks like celebrities do.

I put my hand to my forehead and sighed, my breath warming my nose that the cold had nipped to tenderness. So you’re a stalker who gets paid for it.

You could say the same about private investigators, Gretchen pointed out. She did so much far too much levity. I was beginning to think she wasn’t taking this seriously.

So, what? You followed me around all day?

My best friend preened again, smiling down into my face. I did. Everyone you talked to was more than happy enough to tell me the reasons for your visits.

Embarrassment rose inside me, bringing with it a flush of heat to my cheeks. I went around Gretchen and into the house we shared. The living room was a perfect melding of her chaotic nature and my tidiness. Nothing was in the right place, but everything did have a place and some semblance of order. Stacks of my textbooks and lesson plans coexisted on the coffee table next to Gretchen’s pile of magazines. Her half-empty diet green tea bottle and my stained, chipped coffee mug looked like unlikely conspirators, caught in the act.

Gretchen came into the room behind me and kicked the door shut. El, seriously. First you buy a bunch of food and give it to that kid with the excuse that you ‘had too much’ and then you just so happen to have a full, untouched bag of dog food to give to that guy who had his pantry flooded. You don’t even have a dog! You’re allergic! You are taking this whole fire thing way too seriously.

I winced and went into the kitchen to the fridge to grab a soda, my comfort drink of choice. Gretchen followed close behind, breathing on my neck like she was a rabid dog pursuing a hapless bunny rabbit who had strayed into her path. I popped the tab on a can of Dr. Pepper and took a swig. The bubbles fizzed all the way down my throat and to my nervous stomach.

Gigi, I said, it’s a serious thing! Okay? I dug my fingers against the cold of the soda can, creating dents. All those people in that building—

Gretchen took hold of my