by T. R. Cupak
Instead she found cops.
Really cute ones.
Good lord. What is in the water in Imminence?
Lauren had assumed she was over men at this point in her life…but maybe she was just over firefighters?
She formulated a new plan right there: have a night out on the town courtesy of the Bounty County Sheriff hotties.
And now she was sitting in the front seat of a police SUV next to the hottest one of the crew. Dillon had dirty blonde hair that was cut short. A square jaw and thick, corded neck. Defined biceps tugging at the arms of his light brown, short-sleeve, button-up sheriff’s deputy uniform. He must’ve been wearing a bulletproof vest because his chest and abs were flat and hard.
Dillon seemed…sweet. He’d been tongue tied and the rest of his crew had ribbed him for it throughout dinner. He'd assumed she was in communications, which slightly pissed her off, but his explanation was nice. She had a tough job and she wanted to be respected, but she never wanted to have to give up her feminine side in order to do that. If she had to stop being herself to be respected, it was all bullshit anyway. So she’d definitely checked her pocket mirror, fixed her hair in a high ponytail, and put on another layer of her red lip gloss before making her way over to the chow tent and spotting the cops. She wanted to feel pretty tonight. For herself. And she did.
Lauren hadn’t gone to dinner on the prowl for a man. But she definitely left it wanting Dillon to show her a good time. She had the night off, needed to get the fuck away from her ex-boyfriend and the rest of her crew, and she needed a drink.
What better way to experience a small, unfamiliar town than by hitching a ride with a hot officer of the law?
“Let’s get out of here, hotshot,” Dillon said with a wink, seeming to recover a shred of his natural cockiness. Cole, the second hottest one of the crew, was kindly riding in the back seat behind the cage like a criminal. He was good looking and she could tell he knew it. His blonde hair looked a little too long for regulation and curled near his collar. He looked like a surfer in the middle of this mountain town. His eyes had twinkled when they suggested taking her to the local watering hole, The Cadillac Ranch Club. She could tell Cole was trouble with a capital T. Lauren didn’t need any more trouble.
Small talk, friendly banter, and a few miles later and they were in front of an older but well-kept house. “This is our place,” Dillon said.
“Oh, you live together?” she asked.
“Yep. Just the two of us now. It’s musical roommates in this house. Everyone always seems to move out the second they find a lady,” Cole explained as they exited the police vehicle and walked toward the house.
“Don’t blame them one bit. We’re tough to live with,” Dillon said, smiling. She wondered what he meant by that but didn’t feel it was her place to ask. “Come on in. I’ll get changed and we’ll head outta here.” He winked at her again and she followed him inside.
She would’ve followed him anywhere at this point.
Lauren watched Dillon’s ass as he walked down the hall toward his room.
Damn.
He was sexy in uniform. She wondered what he would look like out of it. In civilian clothes! her brain screamed as her mind began to wander to visions of a buck naked Dillon.
Maybe he can help you get the taste of Garrett out of your mouth?
A wave of disgust at the thought of Garrett shuddered through her body.
Well, you ruined that thought.
She took a minute to look around their place. It was definitely a bachelor pad, but it was far from just a flophouse. There was a couch with throw pillows, a nice recliner that didn’t look like it came from a second hand store, and a bookshelf with actual books on it. It was nice. Despite their playful attitude, it was clear that real adults lived in this house.
Minutes later, Dillon was back wearing Wrangler jeans and a heather blue t-shirt with a Ford logo on it. A red baseball hat sat on top of his head. Backwards.
Fuuuuuuuuck.
Lauren forgot all about Garrett as her eyes focused on Dillon. A backwards ballcap was her motherfucking Achilles’ heel.
“Gert!” Dillon shouted. “You ready?”
“Keep your shirt on! I’m coming!” Cole shouted back.
Gert?
Lauren must have had a weird look on her face because Dillon answered her question without her asking. “Cole had a shitty tattoo done a few years ago. There was a typo. He didn’t notice it ‘til he was showin’ it off to the whole department.” Dillon’s mischievous smile reached his eyes, increasing Lauren’s curiosity. She needed to know what was wrong with Cole’s tattoo.
“What was the typo?”
“No re-gerts.”
“Oh my god,” she said, placing emphasis on each word as she said it.
“Yeah,” Dillon answered, chuckling. Lauren couldn’t hold back her laughter.
“Hey, fuck you, guys. I got the tattoo covered up,” Cole protested as he sauntered out of his room toward them. He was also looking mighty fine in frayed jeans with tears in the knees and a Red Hot Chili Peppers t-shirt. Total surfer vibe.
“How the hell did you not notice that typo in the tattoo shop?” Lauren asked, incredulous.
Cole held his forearm out and twisted it toward her so that she could see the back side of it adorned with a red and black Japanese koi fish. “I could only get a good glimpse of it by looking in the mirror. It looked good in the shop, but I couldn’t tell it wasn’t spelled right.” He shrugged. “No regrets, babe.” He grinned.
“Don’t you mean ‘no regerts’?” she teased.
“You got jokes, huh?” he said as he threw his arm around her shoulders and escorted her out the door. She heard Dillon growl in protest behind them. That made Lauren smile. Dillon didn’t need to stake his claim, but he didn’t know that, so she decided to make him work for it. She snaked her arm around Cole’s waist as they walked to the car.
“God dammit, Cole,” she heard Dillon mumble.
She grinned. Oh, this is going to be fun.
“Let’s take my truck,” Dillon directed them. Cole lead her to an older, single cab truck and helped give her a boost in. He slid in next to her and Dillon hopped in on the driver’s side. It was a bench seat, so Lauren scooted closer to him, her legs straddling the gear shift.
“Do you gotta be back by a certain time or you turn into a pumpkin?” Dillon asked, looking at her quickly with a smile and then setting his eyes back on the road. “Red Solo Cup” by Toby Keith started playing on the radio and Lauren felt the weight of the last month lift off her shoulders.
“I’m on a mandatory rest period since I just got off the Pine Ridge Fire. I’m on my own time ‘til lunch tomorrow. No pumpkins.”
“So you’re staying out late tonight, then?” he asked, hope evident in his voice.
Lauren didn’t want to spend tomorrow hungover and hating herself, but she definitely felt like having a good time. “Only if you keep me out late,” she flirted. She heard Dillon exhale slowly, but he didn’t respond. He tapped his fingers on his thigh. It seemed like a nervous tick and she wondered if she’d taken it a step too far. She hoped she hadn’t.
As they pulled into a large parking lot in front of an unassuming building, save for a giant rearing horse on the roof, Dillon piped up again. “I think there’s a country music cover band playing tonight.”
“Do you two-step?” she asked. Lauren loved to dance.
He grinned at her as he turned off the truck. “Baby, I was born two-steppin’.”
Baby. That would normally piss her off, but this time, with Dillon saying it, it just made her stomach flip and her legs clench.
“See, Yates? That’s why we call you ‘Cowboy,’” Cole explained.
“Just ‘cause I know how to two-step doesn’t mean I’m a cowboy,” he said as he rolled his eyes and hopped out of the truck. Instead of sliding out the passenger seat, Lauren lifted her right leg over the gearshift and slid toward Dillon. His eyes lit up.
>
He helped her out of the truck, his large hands spanning her small waist. Her body dragged down his on the way down and she felt a sudden need to dance the night away with this cowboy.
Anything to be close to his hard body.
Dillon paused, his hands still on her waist, and looked down at Lauren. Her breath caught and she felt her knees buckle under his gaze. He gripped her waist tighter to keep her from falling.
“Whoa, hotshot. You good?” he asked, quietly.
She was feeling a little swoony, to be honest. But he didn’t need to know that. “Fuckin’ great. Take me dancing, Cowboy.”
Tonight was going to be very entertaining.
Chapter Five
Damn.
Lauren was a flirt. Funny. Sexy. Fucking gorgeous. His first thought when he saw her tonight was that he wanted to wrap that ponytail around his hand while he was nailing her from behind. But now after talking to her for a bit, laughing with her over Cole’s shitty tattoo, hearing her call him ‘Cowboy,’ feeling her body up against his, he felt an urge to do the deed face-to-face. He wanted to look her in the eyes when he slid into her for the first time.
Jesus, man. Don’t get your hopes up.
But he had a good reason to have high hopes. At least he thought he did. She asked him if he was going to keep her out late. Was she asking to stay out late? Or was she hinting that she wanted to go back to his place?
The Cadillac was a dive bar with great food, cold beer, a dance floor, and a bunch of pool tables. It was usually dark, but tonight there was a band and colorful lights were shooting all around the bar. It was only eight o’clock, so the place wasn’t quite full, but it was heavily populated with firefighters already. The bar smelled like alcohol, fried food, and forest fire. So much for Lauren getting a night away from firefighters like she’d requested earlier.
“Oh fuck,” Lauren said as she ducked behind Dillon. Cole sensed her discomfort and closed in around her.
“What’s wrong, babe?” Dillon asked.
“My fuckin’ fire crew is here.”
“That’s a problem?”
“It is when my ex is on it.”
She works with her ex-boyfriend?
“How ex is your ex?” Cole asked for clarification.
“A few weeks.”
Dammit.
“Any reason why he might be a problem tonight?” Dillon asked.
“He’s crazy and thinks we’re going to get back together despite him cheating on me and telling me I should probably get tested for chlamydia. I mean, at least he told me, right?” She let out a laugh that did not at all indicate she was amused. Dillon wasn’t amused either. He wanted to kick this guy’s ass.
“Which one is he?” he demanded to know.
“Let’s just go sit where he can’t see us. Please, Dillon? I don’t even want them to know I’m here.”
Dillon capitulated despite every muscle fiber in his body suddenly looking for a fight.
“You guys go sit and hide,” Cole offered. “I’ll go get us beers. Lauren, what’ll it be?”
“Miller Lite. Draft. Tallest one they’ve got.”
This woman is perfect.
“Make it two, Gert,” Dillon requested and handed him a twenty. “You better come back with change,” he warned. Cole winked and walked toward the bar while Dillon placed his hand on Lauren’s lower back and led her to the corner booth just off the dance floor.
“Thanks for helping me out, Dillon. I’m just at my wit’s end with my crew and need to get the hell away from them for a freakin’ second,” she tried to explain. But Dillon needed more.
“Tell me about this assclown.”
She sighed. Heavily. “Garrett and I started dating at the end of fire season last year. We don’t live close to each other, but we do both live in Washington, so we visited each other a few times this year. We never had the exclusivity talk and I wasn’t looking for anything long term anyway. So it’s not like the ‘break-up’ is something I’m distraught over. I just never expected I would need to get a fucking STD test because of him.”
Ouch.
“And…did he…are you…?”
“Clean? Yeah. Got the test results back yesterday. I’m clean. As soon as this fire season is over, I can get on another crew and he’ll be nothing but a bad memory.”
“If you’re on the same crew, how did he get a chance to cheat on you?” he asked.
“Filled in with another crew earlier this summer. Rumor has it nearly all the hotshots got some form of VD. Turns out a couple of fire camp groupies spread that shit far and wide.”
“Gross.”
“You’re tellin’ me. Have the decency to wrap it up, fuck face,” Lauren sighed.
“Point him out to me. I wanna go kick his ass,” Dillon demanded. He was pissed. Who would ever cheat on this gorgeous creature with a nasty-ass fire camp groupie? Dillon liked sex probably more than most guys. He was adventurous and had a big appetite and he didn’t often discriminate between the classy ones and the…not so classy. But he would never cheat. Never.
When you’re with a woman, you give her all of you. And if you feel the need to stray, you cut her loose because something is just not right, his dad had told him back in high school. He’d never forgotten that advice.
Although he’d never settled down either.
Lauren laughed. “I’m not gonna point Garrett out to you, because I don’t want you to get in trouble for kicking his ass. He deserves it, for sure. But I’m not worried. Karma already got him.”
Dillon could just walk over to the large group made up of almost entirely men and shout “Garrett!” to see who turned around, but he decided he liked sitting next to this sexy hotshot much better than getting tossed out of a bar for starting a fight.
“So, hotshot. How’d a pretty little thing like you get in that line of work?” he asked. Her eyes narrowed and her mouth twisted.
“I’m not just a pretty little thing. I’m a badass with a pulaski, I crave sixteen-hour shifts, and there’s nothing more exciting than lighting a backfire with a drip torch to redirect the path of a fire. I’m good at my job. I fucking love my job. And I’m the only woman on my crew, so I have to put up with a lot of bullshit and talk of human shit in order to do my job. Don’t underestimate me.”
Holy shit. A switch had flipped inside this beautiful firecracker. She was pissed. And she was fuckin’ sexy when she was mad. He wanted to witness her starting a backfire. Maybe she could redirect the fire right into his path.
Cole chose that moment to deliver their beers to them and sit down. Lauren grabbed her drink and took a huge gulp.
“I meant no offense, Lauren,” Dillon said sincerely. “I’m sure you’re great at your job and I apologize on behalf of all of my brethren on Planet Earth. It’s just, I would’ve never guessed this was your line of work.”
“It’s fine,” she said. “I’m used to being underestimated. You’re no different.”
“Now that is not what—” he started to explain until Cole cut him off.
“Jesus, Dillon. What’d you say to her?”
“Back off, dude. Let me talk to Lauren.”
“She’s my new friend, too. Come on, Lauren. Let’s two-step. I wasn’t born doing it like Cowboy here, but I can hang.” Cole stood up and pulled her away from the table.
Dillon was going to kill him.
He sat and drank his beer while he watched Cole manhandle his woman on the dance floor. My woman? Fuck, where’d that thought come from?
Cole was not good at two-stepping, unless you consider stepping on your dance partner’s feet every two seconds to be ‘two-stepping.’ He figured Lauren would get tired of Cole’s shitty skills and come sit back down. But she didn’t. The song changed and they kept dancing. Dillon downed the rest of his beer and decided the time to stake his claim was now.
He slammed his glass down on the table, spotted his targets, and headed out to show Lauren how real two-stepping was done.
“I’m cuttin’ in,” he said, gently pushing Cole out of the way. Cole laughed and raised his hands in defeat. Lauren gave him a tight smile and they started to dance to the band’s version of Clint Black’s “A Good Run of Bad Luck.” He decided to get right to it. “You gonna forgive me, hotshot? I swear I wasn’t doubtin’ your badassery.”
“I’m not mad. I’m just sensitive about it. Fires me up when someone thinks all I am is a pretty face. It’s all good. Let’s dance, Cowboy.”
“I can tell you’re way more than a pretty face, Lauren,” he said. “And I’m sorry if I made you feel dismissed.” He waited, and when she finally nodded and smiled, he felt like it was safe to move forward. “Now I hope you haven’t underestimated my two-stepping skills. You ready?” he asked, raising his eyebrows in a warning that she was about to dance her ass off.
“Bring it,” she countered.
So he did. Dillon wasn’t lying that he’d been two-stepping since birth. He whipped her around the dance floor until the bar was packed and they were both sweaty. Thankfully, the band decided to slow things down with “Break Up In The End” by Cole Swindell. Lauren rested her head on his chest as they slow danced. Having her in his arms like this felt good. Really good. Dillon had to fight himself against going hard.
It wasn’t helping that she was pressing her whole body up against him. It almost seemed like she was purposely trying to rub up against his dick like a sexy little cat.
Fuckkkkkkkkkk.
“What made you wanna be a hotshot, Lauren?” he asked, truly curious and wanting to understand more about this strong, beautiful, amazing woman in his arms. He didn’t think he could ever run out of adjectives to describe her.
“Was just looking for something to do. Turns out I’m pretty good at it. Plus, I like working the land. Saving forests, grazing lands, wildlife, livestock, homes…sometimes even lives. It feels good knowing I make a difference. I was given a gift, so I decided I’m going to use it.”
Dillon completely understood that feeling. He felt like she’d just wrapped bailout rope around his heart and pulled him closer to her. He swallowed hard and nodded in agreement.