That Hot Night: A Firefighter Romance

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That Hot Night: A Firefighter Romance Page 17

by Piper Sullivan


  Well satisfied.

  But it had also been a mistake. A big one that I had no intention of repeating. Ever. So, I kept my distance and eventually, finally, he’d gotten the hint. Mostly.

  He also had the distinction of being the reason I kept my focus on work. Not the only reason, but one of them, and it had paid off. Two of my barbecue sauces had won awards throughout the state, and I was thinking of entering the retail game. But that was a thought for another time, when my chipotle bourbon sauce wasn’t about to burn.

  “Yo, Boss, the Sheriff wants a minute of your time.”

  I let out a long, slow sigh to hide how badly she’d startled me, and then I turned. “Any idea what it’s about?”

  “He asked for a catering menu earlier, so maybe that. You coming?”

  I nodded and when Maven was gone, I gave myself a few more moments to get my emotions in check. Then, I smacked a smile on my face and went to talk business.

  “Afternoon, Sheriff.” Even though I’d grown up in Tulip and had gone to school with Tyson, we weren’t close and greeting him with his title felt appropriate.

  But it always made him smirk. “You can just call me Tyson, you know that, right?” I nodded and he shrugged, giving it up. For now. “Do you have time for a chat?”

  My glance bounced from the sheriff to Jackson, both men so large they took up an entire booth meant to seat four people. “Sure, what can I do for you?” I pulled out my notepad and pen, waiting for him to tell me what he wanted.

  “We’re hosting some police training this weekend. I know it’s short notice, but I’m hoping you can make lunch for thirty on Saturday and Sunday?”

  It was easy work and the pay would definitely make it worth the extra time. “Not a problem. Just get the menu back to me by the end of the day. I go shopping tomorrow.”

  He blinked confused green eyes up at me. “That’s it?”

  “Did you want something else?”

  “Can we get some of those German chocolate cakes? Best damn chocolate cake I ever had.” Jackson patted his flat belly in a move that echoed Rafe’s from earlier—the only difference was my reaction.

  “Mark down how many on the menu and it’ll be taken care of. Anything else?”

  Tyson’s lips curled into a reluctant smile and he shook his head. “That’s it, Reese, thanks. What time should we pick it up?”

  “Let me know what time lunch is served and I’ll have it delivered.” It was a service I offered when I could, especially to business customers because it gave them a reason to keep ordering.

  “Thanks, Reese.”

  “No problem, Sheriff. Happy to help.” With an expression that was meant to be a smile but felt more like a grimace, I tucked the pen behind my ear and walked back to the kitchen, sucking in a deep breath and…

  “Oh no!” The scent of burnt sugar and bourbon went right up my nostrils, making me cough. “The sauce.”

  Damn you, Jackson.

  Jackson

  “What was that all about?”

  Tyson smirked over his mountain of barbecue chicken and fries, the tiny bowl of coleslaw looking ridiculous in his big hands.

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?” It was a miracle that no one in town had managed to find out about my night with the pretty cook. A testament to how deeply Reese regretted it. It was too bad, really, because it had been one hell of a night. Definitely one worth repeating, but when I’d gotten back to town, she’d given me the cold shoulder. Hard.

  “Yeah, I would. Reese is quiet. Nice to everybody in her way. Everybody except you, and I want to know why.” He folded those big arms over his wide chest and gave me his stern Sheriff look. “Well?”

  “You’re not even friends, are you really gonna play the role of her protector now?”

  Tyson gave one sharp nod, a sign that I’d learned from working with him for five years meant hell yeah, I am. “Do I need to?”

  “No,” I sighed. “She’s the one person on the planet immune to my charms, and I like riling her up once in a while.” Whenever I could was more accurate. She was tiny and fierce, and I’d put money on her in a fight against anyone. Most importantly, when Reese was riled up, she was hot as hell. “New topic. Jarrod was spotted in Portland. Maine, not Oregon.”

  “Why Maine?”

  “Good place to lay low, especially this time of year. Lots of vacation rentals empty, so it could be days before he runs into another person. Weeks, if he has food and supplies delivered.”

  He nodded thoughtfully as he chewed, and I took advantage of the quiet to dig into my ribs. Reese the made the best sauce I’d ever had, which only made it doubly tragic that she hated my guts. “How in the hell do you know all that?”

  I shrugged. “Spent a lot of my off-time in upstate Wisconsin. And some in Maine, too. Lots of good fishing and hiking.” Working homicide in Milwaukee was nonstop chaos, and I’d spent as much time as I could enjoying being outdoors where it was quiet. Where animals behaved like animals and not monsters.

  “Is that where you get off to when you’re not here?” Tyson leaned in, looking a lot like the women who spent afternoons here or at Big Mama’s, plotting world domination. Or something.

  “Some of the time. Good hiking in California, and great fishing in Oregon.”

  “Hm.” He shrugged and dug back in to his chicken. “They find him?”

  “Nope. The marshals have plainclothes pairs combing the area.” I hoped they found him before he moved on and caused more damage. “We’ll know soon enough.”

  He nodded and we ate in silence until our plates were empty and our bellies were full. It was the thing I most enjoyed about hanging out with men, they didn’t talk unnecessarily. “Good. The training this weekend should be interesting.”

  I laughed. “You don’t have to make small talk with me.”

  “Thank god,” he said on a groan, dropping back against the booth. “Ginger talks all the time, but not just to fill the silence—which means I have to listen. It’s exhausting.”

  “Keep her naked.” That’s what I did when a woman wanted to talk too much or when she wanted to talk about things we didn’t need to discuss. “Works every time.”

  Tyson laughed, and we paid the bill and headed outside. “That’s not our problem, Jackson.”

  “Doesn’t have to be problem to have an easy solution.”

  He laughed again and clapped me on the back. “No wonder you’re my best detective—your mind is twisted, man.”

  I frowned and shoved him away. “I’m you’re only detective.” The only one officially holding the title and the rank, anyway.

  “Details,” he said, waving me off. “I’m heading to see Ginger. What are you doing this afternoon?”

  “Going to scare the heck out of a couple teenagers selling weed behind Bo’s place after hours.” Life in Tulip was a far cry from life in Milwaukee, size aside, but trouble didn’t discriminate. The difference was that here in Tulip the kids were good, and could be run off by a stern talking-to, which made my job easy. Well, easier.

  “Keep me posted,” Tyson said and turned toward the Gazette office with a smile. He was a new man since hooking up with Ginger, and a happy boss was always preferable to a grumpy one.

  The afternoon was bright and shiny, and I couldn’t wait to spend the rest of my shift in the car with the warm breeze on my skin. Keeping the peace meant something different in this place, and I looked forward to patrolling the streets and showing my face.

  Even if it was to a foursome of meddling women with enough sass to fill the entire state. “Afternoon, ladies. Aren’t you late for lunch at Reese’s?”

  “Look at him girls, keepin’ tabs on us. Should we be flattered or worried?” Eddy arched a brow and smiled like she wanted to eat me up, which might have been flattering if she wasn’t old enough to be my grandmother.

  “Neither, just stopping to say hello.”

  Elizabeth Vargas stepped forward and patted my cheek. “You’re a good boy, even if you
are a skirt chaser.”

  “Not me, ma’am. You must have me confused with someone else.” I didn’t have a thick southern accent to lay on, but I had more than enough charm. So my Ma used to tell me.

  She huffed out a laugh and shook her head. “Too much charm and too good-looking, that’s your problem.”

  “Is that a problem? Sounds like a good one to have, if you ask me.”

  When Helen smiled and patted me on the shoulder, I realized my mistake. They had me surrounded. “I’m glad you said that, because I have a friend who needs someone with just your expertise to show her niece a good time.”

  I took a step back, right into Betty Kemp, and groaned an apology. “No, thanks. I’m not even from Texas but I hear this town is full of guys who were born and raised here.” A creepy number, in fact, considering I didn’t still know anyone I went to high school with.

  “Nonsense,” Betty said, wrapping an arm around my bicep. “You’re a man of the law, so she knows she’ll be safe.”

  “And handsome as sin, just in case she’s got something other than her safety on her mind,” Eddy added suggestively.

  And that was more than enough for me. “Have a good day, ladies, and stay out of trouble.” I gave each of them a pointed look that I knew they would ignore, because the four of them were worse than any gang of criminals. Thankfully, their crime of choice was forcing perfectly happy to be single men to fall in love.

  It was disgusting, but it wasn’t illegal.

  Unless they tried to match me. Then, I’d lock them all up.

  Reese

  “Anyone ever tell you that this is, hands down, the best potato salad I’ve ever had?” Rafe sat on the counter in my kitchen with an oversized bowl filled with potato salad in his hand.

  “You, like five minutes ago. I think maybe you have horseradish-induced forgetfulness.” The man was like a bloodhound, able to sniff out freshly-made food from a mile away. “I’m glad you like it, but I hope the boys in blue love it.”

  “Any boy in blue in particular?” Rafe’s attempt at looking innocent was about the funniest thing I’d seen all morning.

  “Nope. But the city pays its bills on time, and those are perfect customers. Finish up, I need to get going.” I had about twenty minutes to get enough food to feed a few dozen police officers over to the community center and set up before they made an appearance.

  “I’m done. For now.” He jumped off the table and made a big show of wiping his mouth even though he actually didn’t need to. “Let’s go.”

  “You don’t have to help me just because you ate a pound of potato salad. In fact, you might slow me down.”

  Rafe crossed his arms and gave me the look. “I’m helping, so shut up about it.”

  “Fine. And thank you. I guess.”

  “The gratitude is astonishing!” He followed me to my beloved BBQ van, two boxes in his arms compared to my one.

  It wasn’t easy for me to accept help, not even from Rafe who offered it so easily. So effortlessly. But I was learning. “You know what I mean. Thank you. That’s it, no qualifiers.”

  “You’re welcome. And I’m helping because showing off my muscles while doing good helps me with the ladies.” I didn’t believe that for one second, but I let him believe I did.

  “Happy to help.” The drive was short but necessary, since it would take at least two trips to get all the food and utensils into the long and winding building. “So, what’s new with you?”

  “Not much. Working on my sauces for the cook-off. What about you? Seeing anyone new?”

  I let out a loud laugh and pulled into a parking spot right against the community center building. “Where would I find the time? Or the man?”

  Living in a small town made dating difficult, since there were almost no new men in town, and when there were… well, they weren’t all they were cracked up to be.

  “There’s always time.”

  “If you want there to be, yes. I don’t.”

  “I know.” Rafe hopped from the van and went to the back to start unloading, where I joined him a moment later. “I’m just curious why. You’re cute and when you show it off, you have a pretty bangin’ body. You’re the best cook I know, which begs the question—why are you single?”

  I grabbed two small boxes that contained several of my side dishes and we walked inside. “You remember me from back in the day? Shy and weird and awkward? Still true today, only significantly less charming at our age.” It wasn’t a pretty sight and the boys agreed, keeping a good distance between me and them until… well, let’s just say for a good long while.

  “Teenage boys have a very set definition of the kind of girl they want.”

  He was trying to be nice and I appreciated it, but I’d made it a rule to never lie to myself. “You mean pretty and popular and charming? How odd.”

  “Smart ass.” He bumped my shoulder and opened the door that led into the small utility room the sheriff had booked for meals and rest. “This is it?”

  Though I agreed with Rafe’s assessment, I shrugged it off. “All you need is a chair and a table to enjoy Reese’s Famous BBQ.”

  “You don’t have to tell me. Just put a stack of napkins and an ice-cold beer beside me and it’s my very own picture of heaven.”

  “All of your women will be devastated to hear that.” He gave me an affronted look that made me laugh. “But they won’t hear it from me.”

  “That’s my girl.” He flashed his beautiful smile and I grinned back, wishing it did something more than make me wish I was attracted to him in that way. “Where is everyone?”

  It was a good question. I looked around the empty room with a frown. Tyson had assured me someone would be here to receive the food. “Anyone here?”

  “Why didn’t I think of that?” Rafe snorted under his breath.

  “Shut up and go see if you can find anyone. I’ll stay here with the invoice.” When he continued to stare at me, confused, I shooed him away. “Go!”

  “You’re bossy,” he complained.

  “You’re slow. Imagine if these police boys saw how slowly you dragged ass around here?” I smiled when that lit a fire under him, and he left me alone in the big empty room. It was the perfect time to arrange the food on the long tables that had—thankfully—been set up earlier in the day.

  I unloaded the chicken and ribs, each with my signature sauces, along with some side dishes, biscuits, and cornbread. It was the perfect Texas treat, and hearty enough for whatever they’d been doing all day.

  “You wanted to see me?”

  The sound of Jackson’s voice startled me and I froze, taking a moment to compose myself before I turned to face him. “Are you the person assigned to receive the food?”

  He glanced over my shoulder and licked his lips. “I am.”

  “Then, yes, you are who I wanted to see. Just sign this and we’ll be on our way.”

  “Right,” he grunted and accepted the clipboard and paper to sign. “It was nice of your boyfriend to take time out of his schedule to help you.”

  I snorted and shook my head. “Come off it, Detective. We both know that Rafe and I are just friends, unless you’re unfamiliar with the word friend where women are concerned? It’s when two people—”

  “I know what it is,” he growled, cutting off my words with his dark stare.

  “My bad.” I turned back to the table, stacking plasticware and napkins just as the doors opened and men and women filtered in, wearing athletic clothing bearing the name of dozens of different police departments. “Just sign there, please.”

  “The whole town thinks you’re dating. You know that, don’t you?”

  I shrugged. “I know the truth and so does Rafe. What everyone else thinks is no business of mine.”

  “Could hurt your efforts to find a husband and get your white picket fence.” He was fishing, and trying to get a rise out of me. I knew that. But still, his words bothered me.

  “Who says that’s what I want? And if someo
ne can’t accept my friendship with Rafe, then they probably aren’t worth my time anyway.”

  Jackson stared at me for a long time, his hazel eyes seeing way more than they should. He seemed to just absorb that information, giving away nothing. “I wonder if he’d place the same value on your friendship.”

  “Doesn’t matter. He has plenty of friends and I don’t, but Rafe’s been a true friend to me. Maybe that doesn’t mean a thing to you, Detective, but it means a lot to me.”

  “You don’t know me—” he began, and I cut him off.

  “And you don’t know me, either. Remember that.” Angry and frustrated, I dumped the towelettes on the table in a heap and stormed off, upset that I’d let him get to me. Again.

  “Everything all right?”

  I glanced up at Rafe’s concerned frown and nodded. “Just peachy. Ready to go?”

  He nodded and held his hand out, wiggling his fingers. “Only if I drive. You seem angry, and I’m not in the mood for blood or stitches.”

  “Party pooper,” I groaned and tossed him the keys. “Thanks. Again.”

  “No problem. It was worth it just to learn who gets your panties all twisted in a bunch.”

  “No one does anything to my panties!” Ever.

  “What a pity.”

  He wasn’t wrong.

  Find out what happens next with Reese & Jackson in To Catch A Player.

  Also by Piper Sullivan

  Small Town Protectors (Tulip Series)

  To Catch A Player

  Jackson

  Yeah, I messed things up the first time round.

  Now the sexy little Chef that heats my blood is wary.

  I don’t blame her.

  But I’ll be damned if I let her ignore this sizzling attraction between us.

  The Town matchmakers have me and Reese in their sights.

  And this gives me a second chance to make things right.

 

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