Wylder Bluffs Firefighters: The Complete Short-Story Collection

by Tarin Lex

  I rolled my eyes at Lukas for lecturing me for the umpteenth time, the night after his presentation, but he wasn’t wrong. Glen called again the next day—‘I miss you, Linn’—and I swallowed the ‘No’ I should’ve said.

  Now we’re here at a hip bar-slash-outdoor dog park in a forested area in the Wylder Bluffs, not far from Stanbery—Me, Glen, Glen’s roommate Daryl, and Daryl’s dog, Hound, the world’s unfriendliest golden retriever. The only pup who’s never liked me. And the feeling is mutual. I can take maybe two sips of my cocktail before Daryl has to run to stop Hound from assaulting one of the other dogs. The brute, though adorable, is obviously antisocial.

  “Why even bring him here?” I ask Glen when Daryl has to jump up from his seat again.

  “Just leave it alone, Linn.”

  “I didn’t…” Ugh, forget it. Glen pulls a face that reminds me to just shut up. I look down into my drink and see my reflection. Frown lines around my lips. What happened to us, Linney?

  Lukas also came tonight. He brought Wyatt, the polar opposite to Hound. I swear the shepherd is energy incarnate. Always bounding, always smiling. Playing. Warm and soft when I cuddle him close. Lukas doesn’t hide his opinion of them, sliding dirty looks at the two guys, and at Daryl’s dog, every now and then.

  Not helping, Friend!

  But, it’s nice to know he’s protective of me. Cares about me. Won’t call me just for sex…because we’ve been friends for thirteen years and he’s never called me to have sex with him.

  Oh god, what’s that suddenly lodged in my throat? Sadness? Ew, no, no, no! Lukas is my best friend. He’s more like a cousin to me than a lover. I should be committed insane just for spinning the other, borderline lurid thoughts in my mind.

  Daryl sits back down and I become invisible again as he and Glen laugh about something I’m not privy to. I sip my drink, my gaze sliding over to Lukas again. He’s such a good dog-dad, so engaged in the goings-on as he chats with a fellow dog owner—a woman, one of those thin bubbling-over types whose energy probably matches Wyatt’s. She’s smiling up at him. She’s really pretty. She playfully pats his bicep, but then her hand lingers there. Can’t blame her. Lukas has spectacular tan, beefy arms, a rope-strong chest and muscled back. Let’s face it, he’s a hunk.

  A pang of envy pricks my chest. I should look away from the spot where she’s touching Lukas. And I do…I look at the wide set of his shoulders, I look up to his angular chin, I look at his thick sinewed neck, all the dense fibrous tissue connecting a handsome face to a chiseled bod. I can’t help lick my lips.

  Next thing I know, Lukas cants his face at me as he reaches up to tug his ear, and I realize I’ve been mindlessly fiddling with my lobe.

  I drop my hand, my breathing hitched and my heart sputtering. Geez! Was I just eye-fucking my best friend?

  Chaos erupts from the dog park again, a cacophony of snarls and barks.

  “Ah, dammit.” Daryl stands up to go intervene.

  I drain my glass of the liquor, only sucking air bubbles now. Glen slides me that look again. Daryl comes back.

  “Sorry, man,” he says, only to Glen. “Hound’s just letting them know he’s alpha dog.” Says the alpha douche! My fingers tic, how badly I wanna wipe the smirk off his face.

  “He’s attacked like six times,” I snark. Thanks, alcohol, for leaving me with zero filter.

  Alpha douche glares at me. “I wouldn’t say attacked. Just a little scuffle.”

  “Yeah, take it easy, babe.”

  “I really just don’t think you should be bringing him to a dog park. Did you read that sign over there?” I gesture toward it. “It says to leash your dog after one incident. And there’ve been several.”

  He deepens the scowl, then looks at Glen. “What the fuck, man?”

  “Christ, Linn.” Uh-oh, here comes Mr. Angry Pants. “Do you really have to do this now?”

  “Do…what, exactly?”

  “Be the fucking teacher, all the goddamn time!” Glen turns red. Is this a normal thing to be mad about? It’s like, so obvious Hound shouldn’t be here. Literally everyone is giving us nasty looks.

  Is he right though…am I playing teacher? Is that my trouble with men?

  Well, damn. Hot tears spring to my eyes against my will, and Daryl rolls his toward Glen. “Dude. Your girlfriend’s fuckin’ cryin’ again.”

  I hiccup. Then, “I”—sniffle—“am”—longer sniffle—“not”—big shaky breath—“crying”—hiccup, sniffle. Jesus.

  I swipe a tear. Say something, Glen. He shakes his head, disappointedly. Make this better.

  As. If.

  Horrified, I cast my gaze askance from them. Through blurred vision I see Lukas come to my side. Dang, he got here fast. “Linney, what’s wrong?”

  “This guy,” Glen sneers. “Always tryin’ to move on my girl.”

  Is that true? The feels get the best of me—bad ones, and good ones now too. Conflicted ones that take the others and tangle them up. I manage a quivering inhalation. So. Embarrassing.

  “Watch it, dick!” Lukas all but growls at him. “She was my girl first.” He looks at me, his expression tender and kind as if I’m not even acting hysterical. “Y’alright, Linney?” He kneels down and brushes my hair off my face, his touch so warm and gentle, such a familiar comfort, as he trails the pad of his thumb over my cheek to catch a fallen tear.

  I sob disastrously. “Lukas…will you…take me home?”

  “Of course.” He takes my hand to help me stand. “Let’s go get Wyatt.”

  Whatever you say—just never, ever let go of my hand.

  Three

  Lukas

  I shouldn’t chide Linney the whole damn way back to my place, but I can’t hold her and drive at the same time, and if I can’t hold her, something else has got to unleash. I don’t like making her feel bad, I’m compelled to keep her safe, mend her heart, whatever she needs. That’s what I do. I’m a firefighter and Linnea’s my buddy. What else would I do but try and stomp out her fires for her?

  Not because I’m feeling something else, something…more. Try telling that to my dick though, as Linney’s nice hips rock left to right as she strides to my front door. I only had one beer, what gives? If it weren’t for Wyatt tugging me forward, I’d have a mind to stop right there and pull her close, so that every delicious curve presses against me.

  I’m just horny. I was thisclose to a date with Bridget, a friendly chick I run into now and then at the dog park. She’s attractive I guess. We have a lot in common and she hasn’t been shy about her interest in me. Not sure why I’ve held back. Less sure why I whipped a glance toward Linnea as I gave Bridget my number. Tears were forming in her cashmere eyes, and like a five-alarm fire, I hauled ass over to her.

  All these thoughts circle my brain as I continue laying into her. “…fucking goons, Linney…you deserve better…self-depracating, masochistic decisions—”

  “Stopit, Lukas!” Linney drops onto the couch and Wyatt, the opportunist, leaps up to snuggle her. Lucky pooch. He’s not allowed on the couch except when Linney’s here. When he puts his snout on her thigh they both give me puppy-dog eyes I’d be soulless to say no to.

  I lower my voice. “I’m just trying to help.”

  “By making me feel worse?” She mops her cheek with the back of her hand. “Either you’re right about one thing, not both. I can’t be a stupid, reckless, horrible decision-maker and deserve better than Glen.”

  “Don’t say his goddamn name in this house!”

  Linnea looks at me wide-eyed, her hand stilling on Wyatt’s fur. “Why’d we come here anyway? I thought you’d take me home.”

  That’s what she’d said, ain’t it? Take me home. And the word ‘home’ only brought the image of both of us, here, together. What a mindfuck, man. I’m starting to think she’s more than a friend; she feels like… home.

  I shrug, forcing indifference, and turn on my heel to go start some coffee.

  “I saw you talking to that girl…”r />
  “Bridget?”

  “It has a name,” I hear Linnea murmur to Wyatt. He looks up at her to listen, intently.

  “Is that jealousy I’m sensing?”

  “Don’t be weird.” Her words root me back in reality. Yeah. It would be weird. As long as Linnea thinks so, I should too.

  The coffee percolates, like my foolish desire. I look over and see Linnea in a different light. I mean, literally, I bought one of those Asian-style floor lamps and it’s casting her now in a warm, yellowed glow. The lamp looks awesome in my house…and fuck if she doesn’t look awesome here, too.

  I drag a hand down my face. Have I lost my damn mind? I watch her lean back and sigh, petting a tuckered-out Wyatt from the tip of his nose to the fluff of his tail. By the time I bring our mugs he’s sprawled out on the couch, swooshing his tail like he owns the damn thing.

  “Here’s your sugar with coffee,” I tease, “just like you like.”

  “Thank you sir.” Her honey-brown eyes catch mine, and for the first time since I met her, I can’t hold her gaze. What if she reads my thoughts in my eyes? The ones that shouldn’t be there?

  I sit down, squeezing between Linney and the armrest since Wyatt took residence of the rest of the couch. Our thighs touch all the way from hip to knee. Linney takes a slow sip then puts her head right on my shoulder. I angle my head onto hers, holding my coffee mug against the ephemeral line where our legs touch. Her hair is soft against my arm, her subtle scent seducing me. Did she always smell like ylang-ylang—herbal, tangy, heavenly? Did she always have such incredible legs?

  She sighs again, the sultry sound against my neck does all the wrong things to my dick. Or all the right things…if she were any other girl but Linney.

  “Does it have to be all or nothing?” she says. I take a distracted sip of coffee, careful not to spill it when I finish drinking and lay my arm behind her shoulders. Does she mean…with us?

  Is she thinking what I’m thinking?

  “When you have something great, do you hold on to it, Linney, or trade it all in for a little bit a more?”

  “That sounds risky.”

  “How do you balance risk?”

  Sip, sip. “I… I’m not sure, Luk. I don’t really take risks.”

  “Maybe you should.”

  Linnea laughs. Jesus, fuck. Even her laugh is turning me on.

  “You’ve never told me to take risks before.” Sip, slurp. She lays her cheek on my shoulder again. “What’s gotten into you? Oh my god! Was it that girl?” She playfully taps my chest with the back of her hand. On impulse or utter stupidity I clasp her fingers into mine. Her skin is damp and soft as fuckin’ silk and the energy transfers straight to my groin. “No wonder you’re being weird, Luk. Bridget’s got you all in a tizzy.”

  “I’m not in a tizzy.” I’m not really sure what a ‘tizzy’ is but I bet she’s right, Linnea’s got me in a fuckin’ tizzy.

  Wyatt starts to snore.

  “Well?” she says. “What happened?”

  “Eh.” Still holding Linnea’s hand to my chest, hoping like hell she can’t feel my heart hammering mad, I give a halfhearted shrug with my free shoulder. “We cross paths sometimes. Trade pup stories. I think she’s got the hots for me.”

  “Ya think?” Linnea giggles, but there’s an edge to her voice I’d swear is a spark of jealousy. Every blaze begins with a spark. “Astronauts in outer space could see her casting her hook on you.”

  An image flashes, my mouth turned up to one side in a fishhook. It makes me chuckle. “I’m not hooked.” My words meet her silence. “I mean, she asked for my number. We were gonna maybe sit and have drinks whenever Wyatt finally wore out.”

  “Shit, Lukas! You… you ditched your date to… to…”

  “Help out a friend?”

  “I was gonna say rescue me, but we can use that.”

  “You don’t need a rescuer, Linney. You need a good man.”

  “All the stores are sold out of those,” she sort of jokes.

  “They’re out there.” Relationship phobia aside, I like to think I’m a good man. I never tell a woman I’m going to call her after sex; I won’t. So I’m not up for Boyfriend of the Year. At least I’m kind to animals. I’m brave at work. I tip the mailman at Christmastime.

  Linnea pulls her hand from mine to play with her ear, and I take it right back, twining her fingers harder this time.

  “You deserve the best, Linney.”

  She thinks I can’t tell when she’s rolling her eyes? She pairs it with a deflated sigh.

  “I mean it. You’re the most selfless, patient woman I know.”

  “To a fault.”

  “Yes,” I clip.

  “Says the man who risks his life for others on a regular basis, racing into burning buildings?”

  “That’s different. That’s honor. That’s what I signed up for. You put your own self-worth on the line, your own happiness so any asswipe who says he’s lonely can get you to feel sorry for him. Then you go and hand over your heart like it isn’t the most precious fuckin’ thing in the world just so he can break off another piece for himself.”

  “I don’t—”

  That’s when a lighter goes off in my chest and heat blooms outward, overtaking me. “That’s how selfless you are, Linn, that you give pieces of yourself until you’re in shambles. And I hate it. Christ, I hate it!” I should stop saying things now, but inertia’s a bitch. The words tumble past my tongue. “You’re too smart for those losers to have any chance with you. You’re an impressive woman, Linn—an amazing woman. You inspire me. You make me laugh, you’re always there for me just like I try’n do for you, you’re beautiful, Linney. You’re so fuckin’ sexy, do you realize that? Do you even realize the power you have, that you could bring any man to his knees for wanting you?”

  Yeah, just stop, Lukas. But the more I talk the more I burn up. Burning with ire, burning with lust. My dick flexes every time I look at her body and her sweet-looking mouth, or breathe her in, or take note of her soft, warm curves pressed against my side. I’d like to pound every one of those guys in the dirt, and I’d like to kiss her and fuck her and make Linnea mine. I said she was already. Dammit, I meant it.

  When she looks up at me from this position our eyes are so close I can only choose one of hers to look into. In thirteen years I’ve seen every emotion play over those light-brown spheres. Linnea’s happiness, her tears, everything in between.

  Not once have I witnessed the sheer smoldering desire that’s etched there now.

  “Lukas…” Her gaze lowers to my obvious arousal then she looks up at my face again. I let go of her hand, she touches my cheek. “Did you really mean all that?”

  “If I said yes, would you hate me for it?”

  “I think you just did.” Her lips come apart and my heart goes nuts. Her fingers skitter down to my thigh, tormenting me.

  “I want you, Linney.”

  “I can see that.”

  “I guess, we shouldn’t though.”

  Linnea feathers my shaft and my stare falls to her chest, my hands aching just to dip beneath that neckline and cradle her tits.

  “Luk,” she whispers, her eyes like dark, seasoned whisky, “maybe…we should.” She finds my zipper, slides it down.

  My self-control goes up in smoke.

  Four

  Linnea

  One minute we’re friends, and the next, Lukas is setting down his coffee, then mine, then grazing my lip with the pad of his thumb. I’ve never seen him with a boner before. I only skimmed the side of it but it felt so nice, so rigid and smooth, I want more. He looks at me; his eyes go dark, smoldering. My pussy tingles. Lukas brushes his hand up my thigh, gosh such a perfect touch, and I know when he meets my hot creamy center, there’ll be no hiding how badly I want him.

  We’ve kissed before. I was thirteen and we were playing spin-the-bottle with other friends. I spun, it landed right between two guys, and they both shifted away from it, neither wanting to kiss the
“big girl.” I could’ve cried before Lukas plucked me into his arms, easily, and took me into the closet designated for the kissing and closed the door. The sound of its click lit me on fire.

  ‘You don’t have to kiss me,’ I’d said. No one could see.

  ‘Yes I do.’

  Then came a soft, gentle kiss we never once mentioned again. A pity kiss, I’d thought.

  “Are you gonna kiss me like that time in the closet?” I ask him now.

  “Fuck, no,” Lukas seethes, holding my face. “I’m gonna kiss you like you’re my last meal.”

  My heart goes from pitter-patter to full-on gallop when he closes the inch of space between and grants me the most delicious kiss in all my life. This one makes my head spin and my toes curl as his mouth massages over mine, the contrast of his bristly jaw and soft-as-sin lips lighting me up from the lips he’s indulging to the lips he’s not.

  God how I want him to touch my pussy.

  It’s like he can read my mind when his fingers skate higher up my leg, stroking my bikini line before he dips two curious, needy fingers between my slick bud and whatever might be left of my panties.

  “Wow,” I sigh against his mouth. “You’re…very good at that.”

  Lukas grins, pampering me in long languid caresses all the way up from my sopping-wet slit to my pulsating clit. His lips capture mine again, and my core clenches tight, and he deepens the kiss, parting my mouth with his gentle one, tasting my tongue. Torturing me with his fingers so, so close to the entrance that’s on pins and needs, alight with the ache to shelter his dick.

  My hips jerk against his hand, I moan, coarsely, and reach down to destroy him in equal measure, up and down his rock-hard shaft. Lukas submits a throaty groan as our lips part for a breath.

  “Damn, Luk. I didn’t know you were so…um.”

  “Big?” He smirks.

  “Yes. You’re so big. You’re so…hard.”

  Wyatt heaves a sigh then jumps from the couch.

  I giggle. Lukas’s fingers play my pussy like a violin as I stroke his rod. “I noticed these lips”—he tickles the circle of my slightly parted mouth—“line up perfectly with the shape of my dick.” My mouth parts wider in surprise. He’s never spoken to me in a dirty, sensual way. He slides a finger between my folds and my walls grip it, yearning for more. “You like that?”