Burning for Autumn (Police and Fire: Operation Alpha) (On Call Book 1)

by Freya Barker

  It’s amazing how much a person accumulates in a very short time. A few weeks ago, I had nothing but a garbage bag with a handful of outfits. Thanks to the wonders of Internet shopping and a couple of trips to the Durango Mall, I now have enough clothes to fill the closet, and some small household items to turn this place into a home.

  “I’ve gotta run.” Keith puts the bags of groceries we picked up on the counter. “With Benedetti taking over after next weekend, I’ve got a shitload of unfinished paperwork to clear before he gets here. Some of it predates my stint as chief. Gotta get things halfway in order, otherwise I’m afraid with one look at his office, he’ll hightail it right back to Denver.”

  “Of course.” I manage to sound understanding—and really, I am—but I’m suddenly not so sure this was a good idea.

  Probably sensing my mood, he rounds the counter, hooks a hand behind my neck, and pulls me into his chest.

  “You’ll be fine, Red.”

  “I know,” I mumble on a little sniffle.

  “It’ll work out.”

  “I know it will.”

  He tilts up my head and kisses me deeply. My hands curl in his shirt and I hang on, prolonging the kiss as long as I can. This is exactly the reason I need this distance. My need for him—his touch, his presence—is more like addiction. I need to know I’m still the same person underneath.

  “I’ll call you later, okay?” he finally says, rescuing his shirt from my clutches.

  “All right.”

  I watch as he walks out the door, take a deep breath, and put away my groceries.

  Chapter 30

  Autumn

  “How did it go yesterday?”

  Sandy is waiting for me in the office, an expectant smile on her face.

  Luckily, other than a small cut on her head that required a couple of stitches, she doesn’t seem to have any lingering effects after being pistol-whipped last week. Just like me, she reported back for work Monday, and we’ve both been scrambling to get caught up.

  “Well. I think. They’d like me to finish out the contract as it is, but apparently were already talking about making this a permanent position. They just assumed I would return to San Antonio, and hadn’t bothered approaching me. Knowing I plan to stay in Durango, regardless, seemed to pique their interest.”

  “That’s fabulous. I’m so glad you decided to stay.”

  “Me too. I really like it here.”

  Sandy grins at that. “I just bet you do.”

  Yesterday morning, I’d walked into my office to find a large bouquet of flowers waiting for me. The card simply said: Good luck today. K.

  Sandy said he’d actually delivered them himself when I was downstairs meeting with a young patient and her family. I was pretty bummed I’d missed him, since I haven’t seen him since Sunday night when he walked out of my new place. Oh, we’ve talked on the phone every night, but between his workload—trying to get his office in order—and mine, trying to get caught up, there simply hasn’t been much time.

  When I mentioned last night this is harder than I thought it would be; he reassured me that it’s just a temporary situation. With Benedetti in office, he would have more downtime, and once I get on top of my own work, the same would apply for me. He even suggested getting away for Labor Day weekend, maybe fly down to San Antonio and see our friends. Head down to the River Walk and eat some hot churros from one of the street vendors, listen to live music.

  It helped. I can be patient. Sort of.

  I spend the rest of the morning plugging away at the pile, but when my stomach starts growling for food, I walk out into the reception area to see if Sandy wants to come grab a bite.

  “Hey—what are you doing here?” I ask Evan, who is leaning on a slightly flushed Sandy’s desk.

  “Came to see if I could interest you in lunch. Both of you,” he quickly adds, looking at Sandy who is now full-blown blushing.

  I should probably warn him that although Sandy is highly intelligent and undoubtedly pretty, she also has stars in her eyes, and in that respect is still very young.

  “I was actually just going to suggest that, but let’s grab something quick downstairs, Sandy and I have a ton of work left to do this afternoon.”

  Apparently Evan is quite well-connected, every five minutes someone else stops at the table to say hello. At some point, he waves a pretty dark-haired woman in an EMT uniform over.

  “Hey, Bella, come say hi to Autumn.”

  “Oh my God, you’re Jasper’s new tenant,” she says, enthusiastically shaking my hand. “I had totally planned to be there to meet you when he handed over the keys this weekend, but I got stuck with a double shift. I’m so glad to get a chance now. Luna speaks highly of you too. Even my brother mentioned you. Actually he said it was about damn time Keith met his match, but he was talking about you.”

  I’m a little taken aback at the waterfall of kind words, but I deduce Bella is Jasper’s wife, and therefore Damian Gomez’s sister. I’m starting to get the sense that this community is smaller than it looks.

  “Happy to meet you too.” I smile back, as Evan pulls out a chair for her to join us.

  By the time I get back to my office, I’ve been introduced to more new people than I did in the months previous, and I have an invite for a movie night this Saturday with Bella and her sister-in-law, Kerry, Damian’s wife.

  Already I’m starting to feel solid ground under my feet again.

  Keith

  “I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow. Eager to get a head start?”

  I glance over the desk at the large man unexpectedly sauntering into my office. Or, what will be his office soon enough. Joe Benedetti sits down heavily in the chair across from me.

  “I’m looking for refuge,” he says, looking a little rough around the edges.

  “Here?” I snort, looking around at the new stacks piling up on my desk as quickly as I’m able to process the old ones.

  “Trust me, compared to packing up fourteen years and two kids’ worth of living, seven hours in a car with my hyped-up offspring, while trying to keep up with a moving truck intent on breaking every kind of speed record, followed by two days of utter chaos in the new house, this place is an oasis,” he groans.

  Benedetti got to town last Thursday, taking up residence in a nice three-bedroom place not too far from the college. He’s scheduled to be sworn in tomorrow at noon, and I hadn’t expected to see him before.

  “What did you do with the kids?”

  “Trial run with the new babysitter. I left them beating the snot out of each other on their PlayStation. All three of them.”

  “Sounds like the babysitter will work out fine then,” I observe teasingly.

  “A seventeen-year-old neighbor with purple hair, combat boots, and enough metal in her face to set off security detectors from fifty feet, but she came highly recommended. I just hope my new flat-screen TV will still be there when I get back.”

  We spend the next few hours going over the schedule, open cases, staff, and administrative obligations. It helps that Joe, having led a division larger than our entire police department here, seems to be more familiar with the workings of the office than I was when I got thrown in the deep last year. Mike Bolter is on call, so I have a chance to introduce him, as well as a few other officers wandering in and out of the station over the afternoon.

  When six comes around, Joe gets up and runs a hand through his deceptively silver hair.

  “I should go and make sure my two terrors and their gatekeeper have left the house standing. The natives get restless when feeding time is near.”

  “Check out J. Bo’s up on Florida Road. They have great pizza and rib deals. Two blocks from your place.”

  “Perfect, that way I can silence them the moment I come in the door. Good plan.”

  I’m still grinning when he walks out the door with a half-assed wave goodbye. For all his bluster, I can tell his family is priority in his life. As it should be.

 
; I think I’m gonna like working with this guy.

  My mood sours when I walk into my own place less than an hour later, carrying my own takeout. I haven’t really had any interest in cooking since Autumn left and have regressed to my college days, eating quick and easy crap every meal. Sonic is on the menu for today.

  I quickly turn on the TV to fill the silence, only wishing I’d have a noisy house to come home to. Kicking off my boots, I collapse on the couch, eating my burger and fries straight from the bag. At this rate, my love handles will turn into truck-sized spare tires in no time.

  Tossing the remnants of dinner on the coffee table, I prop up my feet, find a Rockies’ ball game on a local station, and try to get into it, but end up turning it off. I should be celebrating tonight, my last day as interim Chief of Police. Something that seemed so important, just last month, seems pretty insignificant now. Still, I remember promising myself I’d get hammered.

  Walking into the kitchen, I grab the bottle of Jack from the cupboard, and bring it out on the deck off the bedroom. I wince when I take the first swig straight from the bottle. Damn, it’s been a while since I’ve indulged in hard liquor.

  The last trails of sunlight dissipate in the sky, while the moon makes an appearance on the other side. The view below is already cast in dark shadows. It’s a hot night. Just a little breeze hitting my face every now and then. Inevitably my thoughts drift to the one person who would make this night perfect.

  I haven’t seen Autumn at all this week. We’ve talked on the phone daily, but every time we tried to plan a date, something would come up. By Friday, I’d had enough and told her—come hell or high water—I’d come see her Saturday. That’s when she mentioned she’d made other plans. That was unexpected, and frankly a bit of a slap in the face. Here I am pining for the woman and she’s off making friends and going out. She did offer to cancel, but I told her not to.

  I’ve struggled the past few days, wondering if maybe this was not meant to be after all. I certainly don’t seem to be doing too well with this distance thing. It’s entirely possible I’m just not cut out for this.

  I take another swig of Jack and already it goes down a lot smoother.

  Closing my eyes, I lean my head back against the log siding and just listen to the sounds of the night. Crickets, an occasional screech from a bird of prey, and in the distance, the faint sound of two coyotes call out to each other across the canyon.

  I must’ve dozed off because my eyes fly open when a rustle of clothes brushes my arm. For a second I wonder if I’m dreaming.

  “Hey.” Her raspy warm voice slips from her smiling lips. “I was wondering where you were.”

  “What are you doing here?” I ask, more curt than I intend, I’m still trying to process her sudden appearance. Instantly the light in her face dims as she leans back against the railing. “I didn’t mean—”

  “I tried,” she interrupts my apology. “Seven nights I’ve tried to sleep by myself—like I’ve been able to do for most of my forty-two years—but I can’t. I can’t sleep. I can get through my days, staying busy and distracted, but the moment I walk through the door of the apartment, not even the cats can make me feel less alone.”

  I push myself up from the chair and take a step toward her. “I get it.”

  “I’m finding my feet, but it’s not enough,” she continues as if I hadn’t spoken. “I don’t want to be independent and alone in my apartment—I want to be here, with you, talking about our day while we share a meal at the end of it. I want to wear your shirt after we’ve made love on the couch, because we can’t keep our hands to ourselves. I want to trip over your boots when I walk in the door, and smile just because you make my coffee just right. I want to go out with my friends to the movies, so I can come home to you. I want—no—I need to be with you, because I don’t like who I am without you.”

  Every negative thought, every insecurity, every doubt I’ve had this past week disappears. I’m struggling to keep my composure as my face twitches with barely contained emotion. Even in the sparse light of night her heart is visible, clear as day in her eyes.

  “Turn around,” I instruct her, forcing the words past the lump in my throat. A slightly quizzical look on her face, she does as I ask, before swinging back around.

  “The cats,” she whispers.

  “What about them?”

  “They’re in my car. Along with the rest of my things.”

  Jesus, this woman can lay my heart bare.

  “Keys,” I growl and she hands them to me. “I’ll get them. When I get back, I want you naked in the moonlight.”

  It takes me five minutes to round up the cats and put them safely inside, haul in her bags that I drop beside the front door, and strip buck naked on my way through the bedroom.

  I can see her leaning on the railing, her back to me, looking at what I know is a stunning view even in moonlight, but nowhere near as breathtaking as the view I have.

  I step through the French doors, and see from her reaction she hears me, but she doesn’t turn around. I walk up behind her, pressing myself against the soft swells of her body as I wrap the length of her hair around my fist, pulling her head to the side. Her eyes meet mine for just a second before I cover her lips with mine in a bruising kiss, pouring all my emotions in every stroke of my tongue in her mouth.

  My other hand cups and lifts her breast, rolling the tip between my fingers with a firm pinch as my mouth runs along the exposed tendon in her neck, marking at the junction of her shoulder with a nip of my teeth. Her body shivers in response, and as if orchestrated, she raises up on tiptoes, tilting her hips up in offering. I don’t need more encouragement—sinking through my knees—I line the crown of my cock up with her slick sex and pull her to me as I surge up inside her. The moan that escapes her: music to my ears.

  Releasing her hair, I cross that arm in front of her, holding onto her opposite shoulder, while my other hand settles low over her stomach, controlling the tilt of her hips. With my thigh muscles driving, I power myself into her, feeding off the sounds falling from her mouth. I feel primal, marking her for the world to see—mine.

  She doesn’t hold back and screams out her release, the sound echoing back from below. Shaking with the force of my own orgasm, and still rooted deep inside her, I lean my chin on her shoulder.

  “This spot here—that view—it used to be my world. My dream, my existence, the end of my day—everything. Now, it means little, unless it includes you.”

  Epilogue

  Keith

  “This is unreal.”

  I glance at Autumn, sitting on a rock beside me, looking down on Upper Bear Creek Falls. The view is stunning.

  We arrived in Telluride around midday. Well over a month later than originally planned, but I’d forgotten about the influx of bikers from all over the state for the annual Labor Day Bike and Car Parade. Generally a peaceful event, but there have been years when stuff got out of hand with one biker group or another. In any event, it wasn’t the right time to take time off, so we postponed it until now.

  She’s been officially living with me for two-and-a-half months, give or take a couple of days. As much as we’ve settled into a daily routine, every day I wake up with her beside me I wonder what on earth I’ve done to be this lucky. Even when we argue—which we do regularly—she captivates me with her intelligence, her tenacity, her fire.

  I never expected loving someone could be so completely consuming, leaking through in absolutely every aspect of your life. I also never understood the concept of the term ‘becoming one,’ but I get it now. There isn’t a thought, a plan, an idea that doesn’t somehow involve the one you love. You become completely aware of each other.

  Which is why I’ve noticed this morning on the drive here, and even on the hour hike up the mountain we decided on for this afternoon, my Red is out of sorts. I tried earlier, when I caught her wringing her hands in her lap on the drive, but she waved it off.

  We’re out on a rock, just the
two of us in the middle of nowhere, and I’m not about to let her brush me off again.

  “Are you ready to tell me what’s on your mind yet?” I ask, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She doesn’t flinch at my question as she did earlier, so I assume she was expecting it.

  “Not really, but I will.” Her answer is straightforward, which is one of the things I love about her. She’s not in the habit of beating around the bush. “Let me preface it to say I am totally freaked out. I mean, my stomach is in knots and I could puke on the spot, because I have absolutely no clue how you’re going to respond.”

  Well. I wasn’t worried before, but I am now. My mind immediately goes to the worst-case scenario, and I’m wondering if there’ve been signs I’ve missed. Is she unhappy? She didn’t strike me as particularly unhappy, but maybe I’m not reading her as well as I think I am.

  “Stop thinking,” she admonishes me, brushing her thumb over the crease that formed between my eyebrows. “It makes me even more jittery.” I bark out a nervous laugh myself.

  “Spit it out then,” I urge her, and she grabs hold of my hand.

  “Remember that night when I came home? Out on the deck? You went and got a washcloth to clean me up after, remember that?”

  “Fuck, Red. Not a night I’ll ever forget, of course I remember.”

  I remember every detail about that night. The way she looked leaning naked against the railing, the way her moans bounced off the rocks below, the way her body pulsed around me as I emptied myself…

  My blood rushes to my extremities all at once, leaving me dizzy and breathless. I scan her face for the answer and see it in the soft smile on her lips, the shine of her eyes.

  “Mid-April,” she whispers.

  Here I thought my life was already complete.

  THE END

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