Jameson stopped, a frown forming between his brows. “You work for Alexander Thorne? From ENN?”
“Yes.” I quickly pulled a business card from my pocket and held it out.
Jameson took it but didn’t take his eyes off my face, as though he were finally putting some puzzle together. Then he glanced at the card and shook his head, muttering something to himself.
“What was that?” I asked.
“I said, where’s your camera crew?”
I had a feeling that wasn’t what he’d said at all, but I gestured toward the door I’d been led through earlier. “They’re out in the van setting up their equipment.”
Jameson slipped my card into his pocket, and as ridiculous as it was, I felt a pang of jealousy that it was now pressed up against his muscular thigh.
“So what do you need from me?”
Several very unprofessional things came to mind, but Alexander’s words about trust and getting things done were right on their heels. He’d given me this assignment because he had faith in me, and I wouldn’t let him down.
I pulled out my phone and opened up the email he’d sent with his list of instructions, then looked back to Jameson. “If we could start with some shots of the engine?”
“Just the engine? Or do you want the truck, too?”
“Um…” I looked back to the email to see if Alexander had specified—he hadn’t. “Is there a difference?”
Jameson’s lips twitched, and while I knew he was laughing at me, his crooked smile made him appear much more approachable. “Yeah, there’s a difference. Come with me. I’ll show you.” He headed to the door and pulled it open.
“I didn’t stalk you or follow you here. I just want to make sure that’s clear.”
“Crystal.”
“Good.” I nodded. “But let’s say I had. Would that really have been so bad?”
Jameson arched a brow, and the devil on my shoulder decided to poke me in the ass with his little fork.
“I mean, surely I don’t smell all that rich now, considering you know what I do for a living. I’m a personal assistant.”
Jameson stepped forward until my back hit the doorframe, then he took a deep breath and shut his eyes.
“No, you smell good enough to fucking eat, which is even worse.” His eyes snapped open, and the wicked heat swirling in the dark depths made me clutch at the frame behind me. “Follow me. We’ll start with the truck.”
TURNED OUT, THE key difference between a fire truck and fire engine was that the engine was equipped with the water, pump, and hoses, whereas the truck had the ladder and tools used for rescues and ventilation.
Who knew? Not me. I thought the two were the same, but apparently not. Honestly, it was a miracle I’d managed to retain that much information while following Jameson around each of the vehicles, when the only words that seemed to be playing on a loop in my head were: You smell good enough to fucking eat.
He was definitely interested in me. Even now, as I made sure Phil got a full shot of the truck, I caught Jameson looking my way.
Jameson pointed to the back roof of the vehicle. “Up there’s the ladder control, and on the sides you’ll see the elevating cylinders that move it up and down. A hose runs under the rungs and out the top of the bucket so we can get water to an elevated level if needed.”
I nodded and looked at the long white ladder running the length of the vehicle, and then some. “How tall is it?”
“Depends on the truck, but most run seventy-five to a hundred feet.”
“Holy shit,” I said. Jameson glanced my way. “I mean, that’s a long way up.”
“It is.”
“Don’t you get scared?”
“No.”
Well, that was certainly succinct. As he started up the side of the truck, I could only hope his issue with talking was with me, because if he was the one Alexander was interviewing for this piece, that was going to be one quick interview.
I gestured for Phil to do his thing, and as he took more stills, I followed behind Jameson.
“Over here you’ll see the pump panel, the hoses, and where we keep the cones.”
“I thought the engine carried the water?”
“It does, but the truck is equipped to hook up to hydrants on scene.”
“Oh, right, of course.” Idiot. I could’ve smacked myself in the back of the head for that one.
Jameson gave a clipped nod as we continued up to the driver’s side of the truck. He pulled the door open and said, “Wanna go for a ride?”
The question was low and, in my mind, meant just for me. I turned my head and got lost for a moment in the face now only inches from mine.
“Uh—” If it wasn’t completely unprofessional, I would’ve told Phil and Stuart to get lost for a moment or two.
“That’s one of the things you’re here for, right? A ride-along?”
Sure, that was why I was here. Not to stand around and fantasize about how sexy Jameson would look in his bunker gear—minus his jacket and shirt.
“That’d be great. I know we were approved for it.” I glanced into the back of the cab and then turned to face Jameson. “Where do you want me?” He eyed me closely as my innocent question—I swear—replayed in my head. “I mean, where do you want me to sit?”
That didn’t sound that much better.
When Jameson just continued to stare at me, I felt my face flush. Then he gestured to the seat across from the driver’s side. “How about you sit up front, since you have a way of getting in trouble.”
I scoffed. “Excuse me?”
“Friday night? You were five minutes away from losing your valuables and your virtue.”
“What? I’m not a virgin.” Is that what he thought? Oh my God. “And I’m not as helpless as I seemed that night, just so you know.”
“Okay.”
“I’m serious,” I fired back, his indifference making me bristle. “And a gentleman wouldn’t have brought that up.”
“Whatever gave you the impression that I’m a gentleman?”
Well, nothing, I guess.
“Now that you have that off your chest, are you ready?”
Ugh. The man was so infuriating, and I was clearly getting nowhere. I might as well do what I came here for.
“Phil? Stuart? Jameson’s going to take us for that ride-along now. Do you need to grab anything from the van?”
“Nope, we’re all good here.” Phil lowered his camera to his side. “Where do you want us?”
I eyed Jameson as if to say, See? It was an innocent enough question. But he just rolled his eyes.
“I’m going to sit up front—”
“Of course you are.” Stuart chuckled, and I shot him my best death glare. The last thing I needed was Jameson finding out about my penchant for men in uniform.
“And you two can sit in the back. Alexander wants footage of the truck's interior and a GoPro view from one of you.”
“Got it—boss,” Stuart said, tongue and cheek. We all knew I was no one’s boss here, but my boss was someone we all listened to.
Speaking of, there was one more thing on Alexander’s list I hadn’t asked about yet because I figured it would be a hard no, but I had to at least try.