HER: Someday, someone is going to take it from you.
HIM: How much you want to bet I keep it?
HER: You know I don’t bet.
PRESENT DAY
It felt like I’d barely closedmy eyes when Vader pounced on my chest and licked my face. This would have been fine if he weren’t a sixty-five-pound, black Labrador and greyhound mix with the friendliness and muscle of the former and the litheness and speed of the latter.
“No. Just no,” I growled.
He whined, lying down full length on my body and covering a good portion of my six-foot, four-inch height. When I pushed him off and threw an arm over my face, he used his nose to nuzzle under it and slobber all over my cheeks.
“Is this payback for leaving you on the porch while I went to the bar?” I groused.
His yip was an impassioned yes if I ever heard one.
I rolled out of bed, hissing when I landed on the heel of a cowboy boot I’d lazily yanked off before falling on the mattress last night. That’s what I got for not putting things away properly. As a firefighter, I knew better.
But I’d been distracted last night with unexpected thoughts of Maisey in that sinful summer dress awash in the moonlight. Those images had followed me into my room, forced me to take myself in hand to ease the tension, and left me feeling guilty. Maise deserved better than some asshole jacking off to thoughts of her. She deserved romance and rose petals and lingering kisses that drew out her pleasure until it crested like a tidal wave.
And shit, I was hard all over again just thinking about it.
I needed to lose these unwelcome thoughts about my best friend before they turned into something that would ruin our friendship.
As I picked up my carelessly discarded clothes, Vader decided it was time to play, instigating a game of tug-of-war with my socks. I ended up spending a good ten minutes chasing him around the house before I could slide into my workout clothes and grab my go-bag for the next four days.
“I get it. I get it. You need exercise. Well, so do I,” I told the mutt as I looked down into his big golden eyes. “Let’s go to the station. You can take a run in the hills and zap out your energy while I hit the weights and pound away this stupid craving.”
Vader barked, and I swore it was in agreement again.
Heading to the station early also meant I might be lucky enough to catch Chief Nattingly before the shift change. I’d weasel the truth out of him so I wouldn’t have to rely on his daughter for the news.
If I’d taken a job in a big-city fire department, it would’ve taken another decade before I would’ve been considered for a fire chief position—just like it would’ve taken longer for me to promote to captain. But that was part of the reason I’d chosen to work in Swift Rivers, even though it meant a lower salary. Here, I’d had the chance to prove myself, and I had. My crew’s record spoke for itself.
But stepping into the chief’s role would be a whole different challenge than getting my captain’s bugles. Nattingly deciding to retire now wouldn’t exactly help my cause. If he’d waited a few more years, I would’ve been inmy thirties, which would’ve sounded a lot more reassuring to the city council than turning the department over to a twenty-eight-year-old known around town for his player ways, which was exactly why I’d curbed my extracurricular activities in the last year.
I just had to hope it had been soon enough.
Locking up the house, Vader and I jogged over to my SUV. I opened the back passenger door for him and hooked him to the seat belt before sliding into the driver’s seat. In my peripheral vision, I caught a glimpse of movement in a window next door. The curtain in Chelsea’s old bedroom fluttered down as if someone had dropped it, just like when Chelsea used to spy on Maisey and me as kids.
Just thinking about Chelsea was enough to make a man’s balls curl up. That woman was cold, hard, and brutal. She used people and tossed them aside like they were disposable cups.
Maisey had never been able to see the full extent of her sister’s viciousness because of the unnecessary guilt she held on to from their childhood. Then again, I wasn’t exactly the poster kid for resolved childhood traumas. I was just glad Chelsea wasn’t around anymore to continue to pick at Maisey’s conscience and self-worth.
I backed out of my drive and headed down the street just as my phone rang.
“Morning,” I greeted.
As early risers growing up, Dad and I had spent many a predawn moment in the kitchen, talking about our plans for the day over breakfast. It had been a comforting routine we’d continued all the way through my adulthood, but once he’d moved permanently to the Harrington Ranch with the goats, we’d had to exchange our in-person talks for phone calls.
“You on your way to the station?” Dad asked, his twang coasting over me like a warm blanket.
Spending the last twenty years in California hadn’t beaten the drawl out of him. Even though I’d only spent the first eight years of my life in the South, I’d held on to bits of it too, and it was always more prominent when I talked to my dad.
“Yep,” I answered. “Going to hit the gym before shift change. What’s on your schedule today?”
“Castrating cows.”