I’m late again! I don’t know if my internal clock is off, or what’s going on. Today feels like Friday. Actually, every day last week felt like Friday. (Imagine my disappointment when I woke up and realized I still had to go to work. 🙂 )

So, my fireman. Unlike a lot of the ones I’ve read, my fireman is inexperienced, shy, and completely socially awkward–at least where his love interest is.

You know those sexy calendars that different service groups do sometimes? *snickers*

“You need to get your shirt off.” The young woman with the make-up said when he walked up. ”We’re going for the natural look, but that doesn’t mean we can’t do a little subtle enhancement.” She grinned and flapped a hand at his white t-shirt. “After all, there’s going to be all sorts of ladies, and a few men, daydreaming over these pictures—we want to be impressive. Not that you look like you’d be anything but.” At Cody’s grimace, she laughed. “Ah, I love the shy ones. Doesn’t matter. Get the shirt off.” She tugged at the hem expectantly.

Cody put the axe down and pulled his shirt off before he could chicken out. If the rest of them could do this, he could too.

The photographer called Seth outside while the young woman whisked a light layer of powder over Cody’s face and torso. Cody couldn’t help himself—his head turned to follow the paramedic as he walked out into the sunshine. Seth moved with a calm assurance, almost a strut, but not so arrogant. Like he was good at what he did and knew it, but didn’t care if anyone else did.

You could kind of admire a guy like that. Except Cody didn’t want any more reasons to be obsessed with the man than his own stupid body was giving him.

The way they’d set up the rigs, he could see where they’d set the stretcher out in the sunshine. Seth sat on the mattress and swung his legs up. The photographer handed him a pair of black Blues Brothers sunglasses and a tropical looking drink in a martini glass, an umbrella hanging drunkenly off one side. Seth laughed, put on the sunglasses and leaned back on the stretcher with one hand behind his head. It made the muscles in his arm stand out and, when the photographer had arranged his other arm the way he wanted it, fruity-looking drink held casually between Seth’s fingers, the paramedic looked like sex on a stretcher.

And Cody’s fingers itched to touch.

Of course, as soon as I put it up, I see things I want to change. Le sigh. On the bright side, everyone’s got names now. Well, most of them. Some of the are still ‘axe dude’ or ^^^^^^. 🙂