It's a Wonderful Fireman: A Bachelor Firemen Novella (The Bachelor Firemen of San Gabriel) by Jennifer Bernard

they’d lost energy and intensity. They’d burned through all the fuel in the room, except the tree on top of him. But there was a good hundred feet separating him from the dying flames, so he didn’t think they posed a threat, unless a sudden gust of wind entered the space.
    His bottle must be nearly out of air. Maybe that’s why he kept drifting in and out of consciousness. While smoke still hung heavy in the room, gray and murky, he could see more clearly than when he’d first woken up in here. The smoke must be dissipating.
    If only he could reach his radio. He needed to tell the others that he was alive. He knew they were out there, working their asses off to get him out. If they knew he wasn’t dead yet, it would give them more energy. It was a lot more satisfying to make a successful grab than to haul a dead body out of a fire. He strained toward the radio, willing his arm to reach just a bit further, his shoulder screaming in pain. An inch. Half an inch. No more.
    He lay back, panting, exhausted by his effort. The smell of smoke permeated everything, even the inside of his nostrils. With his limp and screaming right arm, he pulled one of the Christmas tree’s branches close to his nose. The needles pricked his skin. The scent of Douglas fir cut through the smoky smell like a faraway song, fresh and cool.
    With the prickly handful of needles pressed against his nose, he breathed more freely, his lungs expanding to take in the extra oxygen. A Christmas tree was giving him mouth-to-mouth, he thought goofily. Thanks, Christmas tree. Sorry for all the bad things I said about your holiday. Nothing personal.
    Okay, he was getting giddy again. Any minute now, Dream Lizzie would come back. Hope flared. “Come back, Dream Lizzie,” he whispered hoarsely. “It’s lonely here without you.”
    He waited, but heard no sign of her lively voice and saw no flash of hot-elf costume. Disappointment made him release the branch and close his eyes.
    Strange that he’d dreamed about Lizzie so clearly. They’d broken up. He’d told her she should find someone else, that he wasn’t right for her. That she deserved better. That he didn’t want to let her down. That Fred would kick his ass if he hurt her.
    But none of that meant that he didn’t want her. God, he wanted her. Had since the very beginning, even before he’d tagged her out in that softball game. After that, he’d spent a month avoiding her. Avoiding her in real life, but jerking off to the image of her every night. He couldn’t shake the memory of how she’d felt in his arms. Couldn’t stop thinking about her, couldn’t stop coming alive at every offhand mention of her by Fred or the others.
    Then had come the Southern California Firefighters Chili Cook-Off.
    Mulligan smiled, his mouth watering from the vivid memory of the spicy beans created by Chief Roman.
    “I think he’s having an orgasm,” said Fred. Mulligan opened his eyes, still blissed out from the incredible flavor of cayenne and cumin. Fred and Lizzie stood on the grassy slope of Los Feliz Park a few steps from him.
    “They call that a chili-gasm, I believe.” Lizzie’s eyes danced with laughter. She wore tight pants with vertical black-and-white stripes and a Florence and the Machine shirt with the neckline torn out. She looked smoking hot. “Got a thing for chili, Mulligan?”
    “That’s his fifth bowl,” Roman grumbled from behind his white table with a steaming slow cooker atop it. “If he eats it all, I won’t get enough votes to win.”
    Mulligan swallowed the rest of his mouthful, then offered his bowl to Fred and Lizzie. “You should try it. Best thing I’ve ever tasted.” Then, with a shadow of a wink, and a surreptitious look at Lizzie, “Maybe second best.”
    Lizzie made a scolding face at him. Her hair was loose today. He’d never seen it loose before, since she usually wore a ponytail. It curled at the ends. He wanted it spread across his pillow, brushing against his