by Kali Hart
Walker
Stryker County Fire Dept.
Kali Hart
Walker is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2019 by Kali Hart
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval systems, without express written permission from the author/publisher, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Epilogue
1
ERIN
“Rosco, I so don’t have time for this!” I’m leaning halfway out my second-floor bedroom window, one hand outstretched toward the tree. But it’s no use. I can’t reach that rambunctious kitten from here.
When I adopted him two weeks ago, the lady at the shelter warned me he was feisty. I just didn’t expect he’d leap out an open window into a tree.
“You know Mr. Dirksen counts attendance as part of my grade!” I try to reason with Rosco. I’m so close to finishing my degree. Just two more months until I graduate. But the tabby kitten doesn’t seem to care about my average GPA. He meows from the branch he’s clawing to, but otherwise doesn’t appear to be in any sort of hurry to leave his perch.
I look at him, then look down. It’s enough to make me dizzy. I don’t like heights. I only rented a second-floor apartment for safety reasons. And I’m a little too curvy in too many places to attempt climbing this skinny tree.
Ducking back inside my bedroom, I search for anything that might work to bribe Rosco back inside. The only thing I think might work is milk. Reluctant to leave him unattended, I rush into the kitchen and fill a tiny bowl.
“You want some milk?” I wave the dish up at him, then set it on the window sill. It catches his interest only enough to lift his curious ears. But then a bird flies overhead, and his attention is stolen away.
I’m so going to miss class today.
“You’re going to make me do it, aren’t you?” Rosco meets my narrowed eyes, but he just mews. I can’t tell if he’s scared or thinks he’s on an adventure.
With an annoyed sigh, I Google the number to the local fire department. Since Rosco hasn’t really attempted to move, I’m not desperate enough to go straight for 9-1-1.
“Stryker County Fire Department,” a smooth, sexy voice answers. For a moment, I forget why I’m calling. My tongue is tangled in my mouth, and words are lodged in my throat. Every sexy fire department calendar image I’ve ever seen flashes through my mind. Tingles are happening in places that make me blush. “Ma’am?”
“Um, yes, hi. Yes, hi.”
“Can I help you with something?”
That voice is helping me with something alright. I needed to leave for class ten minutes ago. But right now, the slickness between my legs suggests a better distraction. My eyes linger on my bed until Rosco meows again, bringing me back to reality. I force myself to focus. “My cat.”
“What?”
“Rosco.”
“Ma’am, this isn’t a vet clinic. But I can get you their number.”
“He’s stuck in a tree.”
“Really now?” I can hear the annoyance in his voice, and it’s enough to break the spell he momentarily put me under.
“Yes, really. He jumped out the window and into a tree. I can’t get him to come down. Or in.” With each sentence, my tone grows a little snappier. “I thought firefighters rescued cats from trees. Can you help me or not?”
“Why don’t you give me your address?” he finally says. I don’t miss that heavy sigh in his tone. “We’ll send someone right away.”
Send you a little voice whispers in my ear. Despite the turn of events at the end of the conversation, I’m insanely curious if the smooth, deep voice matches the calendar image I’ve conjured in my head.
WALKER
It’s been a quiet day at the Stryker County Fire Department. As of an hour ago, the trucks are washed, the floors are mopped, and the lawn is mowed. No calls have come in, except for the one about the cat. The guys are going to love this. “Got a call,” I announce in our kitchen. The others on shift are sitting at the table, playing a round of Texas Hold ‘em while they eat their lunch.
They’d jump up if the alarm sounded, but since I’m standing calmly in the doorway, they simply look up and wait to hear what it is.
“Cat stuck in a tree.” I wave the post-it note with the address at them.
“Is the tree on fire?” Chase—fellow firefighter and my closest friend—asks, a jesting twinkle in his eyes.
I don’t justify his ridicule with an answer. “Who’s turn?”
“Not mine.” Dameon lifts his hands. “I took the last call. I’m waiting around for a real one.”
The arguments circle the table. No one here wants to spend their afternoon trying to convince a cat out of its perch in a tree. It’s a ridiculous call, and we all know it. We’re firefighters who put out fires. Save lives. Rescue those in peril.
Maybe I should’ve had the woman clarify if her cat was in actual peril.
“Straws, then,” I finally say since no one wants to pony up to it. It’s how we decide these types of things when no one wants to volunteer. Who picks up lunch, who takes out the trash, who scrubs toilets. And now, apparently, who gets to rescue a cat from a tree.
Chase pulls the handful of straws out of the drawer and shuffles them in his hands. We each take one. I end up the unlucky one.
“Go get ‘em, Walker.”
Pulling the station’s fully loaded pickup truck along the curb near the tree in question, I want to be annoyed. I don’t think we’ve ever gotten a call to rescue a cat out of a tree. In fact, I think those calls go to animal control. I was tempted to call them on the way out here, but one look at the woman standing beneath the tree with folded arms is enough to keep me doing any of that.
She’s stunning. Dark brown hair curled at her shoulders. Curves for days. That light yellow sundress has me thinking very inappropriate thoughts. It’s too bad there’s not a breeze.
“Took you long enough.” Those chocolatey brown eyes are shooting daggers at me, but my dick doesn’t seem to notice. In fact, it starts pitching a tent. I adjust my pants before I walk around the side of the pickup truck.
“Is that the culprit?” I point to the orange kitten two-thirds of the way up the tree. It’s a narrow tree with skinny branches. I’ll have trouble keeping a ladder stable against its narrow trunk.
“Rosco.” She drops her folded arms, and I try—oh I try—to look away as those busty tits bounce free in her dress.
I try to remain professional. I remind myself that I’m here to do a job, not drool over a woman.
The tree won’t hold a ladder. That much is clear when I apply pressure against the narrow trunk. I could try to climb it, and maybe I’ll even reach the cat. But I might snap a branch and fall flat on my ass. “Is that your window?” I point to the wide open second story window.
“Yes. He jumped out an hour ago, and now he won’t come back in.”
“Would you want to jump back inside when there’s a fifteen-foot drop?”
“Good point.” Her cheeks redden, and I swear it’s the sexiest thing I’ve seen all day. “So
, what can you do about Rosco?” There’s genuine concern in her eyes, and it twists something inside me. I’d do anything to ease her worries and bring a smile to those pillowy lips. The urge surprises me.
“I guess I climb.” I shed my heavy jacket and shimmy up the tree as quickly as I can, mostly to keep myself from thinking too much about how light the branches are. I’m six foot two and solid muscle. Light on my feet has never been used to describe me.
“Be careful!” she says from below, and dammit, I almost lose my footing.
“Hey, kitty.” The tabby is just a foot above me. I can’t go any further, or the next branch my boot connects with will snap clean off. Though it’s only ten or so feet from the ground, it’s still farther than I want to drop.
The kitten mews at me, the fur on his back rising. He’s scared, and me rocking the tree isn’t helping. I don’t know why these apartment complexes insist on planting flimsy little show trees. They ought to consider something good and solid, like an oak or maple.
“Can you reach him?”
“Rosco,” I say to the kitten. “It’s time to come down now.” If I was a foot higher, I’d grab him by the scruff of the neck quick enough to squeeze him against me. He’s not going to move on his own.
“Don’t suppose he’s declawed?” I ask the woman below me. I make the mistake of looking down, and it allows me to see right down the V-neck of that yellow sundress.
“He has an appointment next week.”
Great. The branch creaks beneath the weight of my boots. I don’t think, I just act. I grab the tabby and pull him into my chest. I shimmy down the tree before the branch snaps.
As I jump the last few feet to the ground, I feel a searing pain in my arm. I look down to see a gash and a good bit of blood where Rosco decided to dig his razor-sharp claws deep into my skin.
2
ERIN
“Rosco!” I take the ornery kitten from the firefighter’s arm and cradle him in my own so he won’t try to escape in the wild. “Bad kitty.”
There’s blood. So much blood. I have to look away or I’ll faint.
“Maybe keep the windows closed until that appointment, huh?”
Even with a painful grimace on those lips, this man looks like he belongs in a calendar. Preferably the month of May, as that’s my birthday. “I’m so sorry. He had his shots last week. I’m sorry—” I want to ask his name, but I’m embarrassed enough.
“It’s no bother. I have some first aid stuff in the truck.”
“No, let me clean you up. I mean your arm. Let me take care of your arm. Inside.” My words are jumbled. He must think I’m an idiot. “I have Band-Aids and running water.” When he hesitates, I add, “Cookies, too.”
“What kind?” For the first time since he arrived on the scene, the firefighter smiles. I swear my panties burst into flames, because it’s the sexiest smile I’ve ever seen.
“Butterscotch chip.”
He follows me to the secured entry. “My favorite.”
I’m a ball of nerves as he keeps close behind me up the stairs. I wonder if he’s watching me, and if he is, what he’s thinking. Then I wonder what I’m thinking for inviting him inside. I’m no good with blood. I’ll probably faint just trying to wipe it up off his arm. Then he’ll have to give me CPR—
“You live here long?” he asks at the top of the stairs.
“Two years.” I moved into an apartment my sophomore year of college, after an incredibly embarrassing and degrading ordeal happened while living in the dorms. Some of the students played a mean, deceitful trick on me. Some stupid bet. Ever since then, I haven’t wanted anything to do with the dorms or frat houses.
“You look a little young to live alone.”
I unlock the door, holding it open for him to follow me inside. My heart’s pumping so quickly I half expect it to leap out of my throat. “I’m twenty-two. Just finishing up my last semester of college.”
We’re staring at each other, there in my living room as Rosco squirms in my arms. I can’t help but study his face, committing its chiseled features to memory and searching for his age. He’s older than me, there’s no doubt about that. Maybe thirty? Thirty-five?
“I hate to trouble you, but might be a good idea to get that Band-Aid now.”
Stupidly, I glance at his arm. It’s smeared in blood, mostly from him holding his hand over the gash. But it’s enough to blur the vision at the corners of my eyes. “Bathr—” The room goes black.
WALKER
She fainted. Took one look at my bloody arm and dropped. Luckily the couch cushioned her fall. Once I’ve confirm she’s fine outside of the fainting spell, I search the apartment for a bathroom sink. I’ll probably need to have someone give me a couple of stitches. I’m sure Chase would get a kick out of that task. That little tabby really did a number.
I use running water to wash away most of the smeared blood, then soap to scrub away what’s left. I find gauze pads in a drawer beneath her sink, next to an unopened box of condoms. My chest tightens, and something stirs in my stomach. I don’t like the thought of another man touching her.
Once my arm is wrapped up, I close the bedroom window to ensure the kitten doesn’t escape again. He’s currently curled up on the edge of the couch, but he’s been eyeing the bedroom door since we made it back inside the apartment.
Her vanilla scent fills the room, intoxicating my senses. My eyes are drawn to the bed. The blankets are turned down on one corner, and I imagine her sliding beneath the sheets with little to nothing on. My cock twitches.
“Did I faint?” I’m caught. She’s standing in the doorway, arms wrapped around her chest.
“You did.”
“Sorry, I’m not very good with the sight of blood.”
“So, you thought it was a good idea to invite the injured, bleeding man into your apartment?” I’m teasing her, but the jealous part of me that found the condoms wonders if she’d so easily invite another man inside.
“I—I—felt bad.”
We stare at each other across the room in silence. My heart is thundering in my chest. All I can think about is pulling her down onto the bed and thrusting my cock deep inside her. I want to claim her. I want her to know she’s mine, and no one else can touch her. It hardly makes sense to me. I just met her. “I closed the window.” I nod to the kitten curling itself around her ankles. “Someone was eyeing an escape route.”
“Thank you.”
As much as I want to stay, I have to get back to the fire station. The guys’ll be wondering where I’m at. The longer I’m gone, the more shit I’ll get for it. “I might take one of those cookies to go if you don’t mind?”
She’s still leaning in the doorjamb, and now I’m only inches away. My eyes keep dropping to those pillowy lips. They glisten, making me wonder what flavor I’ll taste when I devour her mouth beneath my own. “They’re in the kitchen.”
She turns, but I reach for her hand and spin her around. She collides with my chest, and those gorgeous tits smash up against me. My cock is fully erect in my pants, and I know she can feel it pressed up against her belly.
“What’s your name?” she asks me, her voice a little breathless.
“Walker Stone.”
“Walker.” She smiles, and it’s the most beautiful sight in the world. A soft, elated sigh escapes. “I knew it’d be something sexy.”
I should let her go to the kitchen to pack me a cookie for the road. But instead, my lips crash onto hers. I back her up against the wall in the hallway as our tongues mingle. She moans into my mouth.
My hands are at her hips, eager to shimmy up the thin fabric of her sundress, when my phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull back before I completely lose the ability to maintain control. “I’m still on duty.”
“Of course.” She slips away. “I’ll pack you that cookie.”
After I check my messages, finding it’s only Chase telling me I’ve drawn the short straw for picking up dinner as well, I wait in the living room. I
f I go into the kitchen, I won’t make it back to work.
Rosco weaves himself around my boots. Guess he’s not so mad at me anymore. I’m doing everything I can think of to calm my cock down. I can’t go back to the station with a hard-on.
“I packed you three.”
She’s perfection. That’s the single thought that repeats in my mind. “I’m on duty until tomorrow morning,” I say. “But I’d love to take you out to dinner tomorrow night.”
“I can’t.”
Her answer is instant and unexpected, considering the explosive kiss we just shared in the hallway. There’s something between us. Something big. I can feel it. I know she can, too. “Can’t or won’t?”
Erin shrugs, and it’s all I can do to ignore the way her tits lift and drop with the gesture. “Both?”
I want to kiss her again, just to remind her of what happened only moments ago. But my phone buzzes again, and this time it’s more important than dinner. There’s a fire. “I have to go. Emergency.”
3
ERIN
I’m more distracted than ever through my classes the next day. Mr. Dirksen called on me twice, and both times I had to ask him to repeat the question. I can’t stop thinking about that kiss with Walker in my bedroom hallway.
I dreamt about him all night, wishing he was in my bed. Our naked bodies rolling around in my sheets.
Maybe I was a fool to turn down that dinner.
No, it’s better this way. Hot calendar-worthy firefighters don’t exactly go for the curvy girls like me. If I never see him again, there’s zero chance of my fantasy being ruined. I just have to keep Rosco from escaping for one short week.