AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“It’s for my friend Bailey. We’re having a bachelorette party for her,” I explain. The heat creeps up into my cheeks. I sound like I’m lying even to myself. “It’s sort of a gag gift.” I continue as if extra detail will make me more credible.
“It’s fine, Blaze.” His voice drips with understanding. “Nothing to be ashamed of. You’re an adult woman. You have needs. And no one around to satisfy them, as far as I can tell.” He glances over my shoulder like I might be hiding a lover in the kitchen.
He’s out of line now, and I ought to slam the door in his face but I don’t. “My needs are none of your business,” I snap.
He gives me a big grin that reaches all the way to my traitorous ovaries—again. “More’s the pity.” He half turns away before adding, “You look very nice by the way.”
“Thank you,” I mutter. I hate to admit it but the compliment sends a wave of happiness rolling through me from my chest to my toes.
Wait, I suddenly wonder, is he flirting with me?
“Hope you get those needs taken care of,” he adds with a wink before turning away again, for real this time.
Not flirting. Infuriating.
I don’t give him the satisfaction of slamming the door after him, but it’s hard not to. I settle for shutting it gently and seething quietly as I toss the Jezebel’s Cavern box on the kitchen table without opening it. I’m afraid I’ll be too tempted to use it myself.
The Chief was right about one thing: I have needs… and I can’t help wondering what it would be like to have the Chief satisfy them.
10
BLAZE
When I step outside the following Monday morning, Chief Wainwright is shutting his door behind him.
He turns and gives me a big smile. “Howdy, neighbor!”
“Good morning.” I give him a tight-lipped smirk that any normal person would read as Leave me alone.
But not Chief Wainwright. “You heading to work? Can I give you a lift?”
“No, thank you. I’m walking.”
“How about that? Me too.”
I look up to see him grinning at me. He makes a sweeping gesture at the short flight of steps that leads up to the porch we share. I walk down the steps ahead of him, hoping he’ll let me go ahead on my own, but he falls into an easy stride right beside me.
We walk for a full five minutes without saying anything. It’s a beautiful early summer day. The sky is blue, sunlight filters through the apple blossoms overhead, and the birds chirp. And all I can think of is the huge hunk of ego walking next to me.
Every few steps, I get a whiff of him mixed in with the scent of fresh air and flowers. He smells clean, like soap, but also a little salty, like the ocean. My thoughts drift to the memory of him shirtless and cuddling his little three-legged dog.
My ovaries do another one of those fan-girl sighs. The smarter parts of me shut them down immediately.
“Don’t tell me you leave your poor dog home alone all day?” I sniff.
“Hm?” He looks around as if he’d forgotten I was there. “Oh, right. Jackie. No, I’m coming back to get him at lunchtime. Taking him in for longer and longer shifts. Hoping he’ll be a good firehouse dog.”
“Don’t fire stations usually get a Dalmatian?”
“Wouldn’t have minded, but this is just how it worked out.” There’s a long pause. “You know why dalmatians are firehouse dogs?” he asks.
There’s another long pause as I fight the urge to ask why. I can look it up as soon as I get to work. But I can’t hold out that long. I love trivia, and I want to know the answer.
I finally give in. “Why?”
“Because they get along well with horses,” the Chief explains. “Back when there were horse-drawn fire wagons, they’d send the dogs ahead to help clear a path for the horses. By the time combustible engines were the norm, they were sort of a tradition.”
This is more interesting than I would like to admit. “Horses probably wouldn’t even see your dog.”
