Prestonwatched as Wyatt just stood there, mouthopen. Jesus, the shit he could do to that mouth. Hell, he thought, the things he could put init.
“Yo, Quinton.”
“Yeah, I’monit.”Wyatt made his waytowards the truck mumblingunder his breath.
“What’s that?”
Prestonsmiled; he could hear Wyatt callinghima jackass amongother things. Werewolfhearingdid have its perks.
“Nothing, boss. I’llget right onit.”
Two hours later after Wyatt had gottenmost ofthe mud offthe monster truck; the alarms went offinthe firehouse. Mencame downthe pole and Wyatt watched inawe as theyallslid down, one after another. Preston, or “Attila the Hun”as probie told Wyatt he was called, was the first one downand running right towards him.
“I’mnot done!”Wyatt looked at the truck againthenback at Preston.
“Don’t have time,”Prestonpushed Wyatt out ofthe wayand grabbed his helmet. “Move it guys!”Prestonjumped inthe cab and smiled downat Wyatt. “Better hope we don’t runthroughmud again.”Prestonlooked at Wyatt’s face; Jesus he wanted himeven more thanbefore.
“Youcanstart ondinner for the guys. Everythingyouneed is inthe kitchen.”
“Wait!”Wyatt had to yellover the engines loud roar. “What do I make?”
“Figure it out, service boy.”Preston winked and rolled out.
Wyatt felt his anger rising. “Service boy? Oh, hell no.”
Wyatt gritted his teethand looked for the kitchen. He found Austinat the longtable readinga book. “I was told I had to make dinner so what do I make?”
“I don’t know, what do youknow how to make?”Austinsat back and watched Wyatt rummagingthroughthe cabinets and three refrigerators.
“I canmake awesome lasagna, would that work?”Wyatt found allthe pans and looked throughthe pantries. He found sauce, cheese, meat, noodles and various spices. “Good, everythingI need is here. How many pans should I make?”
“Withthese guys?”Austinarched a brow. “How manypans do we have?”
Wyatt sighed. “I get it.”
Four hours later the guys were back fromtheir fire and Wyatt was pullingsixpans oflasagna out offour ovens. A group of freshlyshowered menwere filinginto the kitchen, mouths watering.
Wyatt grabbed the pans and put three onone side ofthe table and three onthe other. Withintenminutes allsixpans were emptyand Wyatt felt luckyto have gottenone plate. All inall, thirteenmensat around the table. What were the odds that he’d be seated with Prestonright across fromhim? Wyatt couldn’t stop lookingat him. Whentheir eyes met, Wyatt looked awayfromthe intense stare and subsequent sneer directed at himfrom Preston.
Wyatt got to know most ofthe menin the short time theywere allsittingaround the table. Most ofthemwere prettynice and asked whyhe was there. Wyatt decided ifhe was goingto be spendinga lot oftime with these guys, he mayas wellcome clean.
“Dude, are youfuckingcrazy?”
SeanKnight, the red-haired fireman everyone called ‘BigRed’ laughed at himand Wyatt blushed.
“I know it was stupid. Trust me. I’m payingfor it now.”
“And you’llkeep onpaying, service boy.”Prestonstood up and looked at the table ofmen. “Let’s get some rest guys, fires don’t wait onanyone.”Prestonlooked at the mess onthe table and smiled at Wyatt. “K.P. duty, Wyatt, cleanthis shit up.”
“What?”Wyatt looked at Preston incredulously. “Youcan’t be serious!”
“Hey, Preston- Chaz, Cole and I can help the guyout,”Seansaid.
“No.”Prestonlooked right into Wyatt’s eyes and leaned into his face. “Come see me whenyou’re done and I’llshow you where you’re sleepingtonight.”
Two hours later, after sweating profuselyand cursinglike a trucker, Wyatt had finished allthe dinner dishes and cleaned up the kitchen. He set up allfour
coffeemakers, makingsure theywere filled to the brim. He was goingto have to go
shopping. The coffee theyhad was like brown mud and inSeattle youhad waymore options thanthis sludge.
Wyatt made sure allthe lights were off and walked throughthe fire stationlookingfor Preston. He found himinthe TV roomasleep onone ofthe chairs. Prestonhad a tribal tattoo onhis right bicep that Wyatt didn’t recognize. Eventhoughhe was Native American, he hadn’t reallybothered to look into his heritage, a fact his father had brought up more thanonce.
A smooth, tanchest laybarrenfor him to admire and Wyatt’s eyes took inthe impressive size ofPrestonDalton. His blonde hair was hangingslightlyinhis eyes; his breathingwas slow and even. Wyatt put himin his earlytwenties at the most. He cleared his throat and Prestondidn’t evenflinch. He tried again, a little louder this time, and was rewarded whenPrestoncracked openhis sleep-filled eyes.
“Um, I’mdone.”Wyatt looked at Preston’s welldefined abdominalmuscles and swallowed hard. A soft patchofblonde hair started right below his naveland disappeared under his sweat pants. Wyatt watched as Prestonstood up, twisted and stretched his large frame fromside to side. Wyatt started at the sight ofa bigblack wolfonPreston’s right shoulder blade.
“Nice ink.”
Prestonturned and looked at Wyatt. “Let’s get youto your bed, service boy. Another longdayawaits you.”Prestonthrew his shirt over his right shoulder, hidingthe black wolfwithgreeneyes. He made his way up the stairs and pointed to a door.
“That’s the shower and right downthe hallis your room. It’s not muchbut at least youdon’t have to sleep witha bunchofguys who snore.”
“CanI ask youa question?”
Prestonturned to look at Wyatt and felt his bodyresponding. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath; God he wanted to grab Wyatt and devour him.
“What?”
“What’s your deal? I know I fucked up and I’mhere to fixthat, so whydo youfeel the need to make it harder onme?”Wyatt looked into Preston’s eyes and felt his skin break out ina fine sheenofsweat. Jesus, but the manwas beautiful, everythingabout him called to Wyatt.
Ignoringhis head, Preston’s dick led himcloser to Wyatt and he leaned over him, lookingdeep into his eyes.
“Youdon’t think before youact, Quinton. Youcould have a record for what youdid. Breakingand enteringis a serious crime. Youtook somethingthat didn’t belong to youand eventhoughyougave it back you caused a mana great dealofpain. Did you know that DeanSmith’s father was at that game withhim? His dad caught the ballfor his sonand it’s the one thinghe treasures, a last gift fromhis dyingfather. Think about that tonight.”
Prestonmade his waydownthe hallto his roomand turned to take one last look at Wyatt.
“Youare goingto have to think about what’s more important:A guywho willdrag youinto doingsomethingyouknow is wrong or standingup for yourselffor what’s right. I mayseemlike anasshole, but life isn’t easy.”
Wyatt leaned up against the walland sighed as Preston’s door shut.
“God, I’manasshole.”Wyatt dragged his tired bodyinto the roomand shut the door. A twinbed sat against the walland a small bookshelfheld severaltitles Wyatt had never read. There was a smalldresser onthe other side and the walls were bare. He looked around and found his baghad beenput inthe corner. Too tired to take a shower, he fellon the bed and closed his eyes. Tomorrow would be a better day, it had to be.
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