Fighting For Brittney

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Fighting For Brittney Page 1

by Tl Reeve




  Fighting for Brittney (Police and Fire: Operation Alpha)

  Badge of Honor: Tarpley VFD #5

  TL Reeve

  Contents

  Foreword

  Letter From The Authors

  Author Note

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Also by TL Reeve

  More Special Forces: Operation Alpha World Books

  Books by Susan Stoker

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  © 2020 ACES PRESS, LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  No part of this work may be used, stored, reproduced or transmitted without written permission from the publisher except for brief quotations for review purposes as permitted by law.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please purchase your own copy.

  Cover design: Buoni Amici Press

  Dear Readers,

  Welcome to the Police and Fire: Operation Alpha Fan-Fiction world!

  If you are new to this amazing world, in a nutshell the author wrote a story using one or more of my characters in it. Sometimes that character has a major role in the story, and other times they are only mentioned briefly. This is perfectly legal and allowable because they are going through Aces Press to publish the story.

  This book is entirely the work of the author who wrote it. While I might have assisted with brainstorming and other ideas about which of my characters to use, I didn’t have any part in the process or writing or editing the story.

  I’m proud and excited that so many authors loved my characters enough that they wanted to write them into their own story. Thank you for supporting them, and me!

  READ ON!

  Xoxo

  Susan Stoker

  Letter From The Authors

  To our amazing readers:

  The Tarpley Volunteer Fire Department books have been a lot of fun for us to write, and we hope you enjoy them. Six talented authors came together to bring you these stories that take place in one small Texas town. With that in mind, please know that, although we tried very hard to consult with each other on details, there will be some minor differences in basic timelines, character portrayals, and storylines from book to book. While we take pride in our craft, it’s almost impossible to have all the details match in six different works by six different authors, and we hope that you’ll enjoy the uniqueness of each story rather than comparing them to each other. We ultimately wanted to bring you stories that you can enjoy, that will take you out of your world for a little while and drop you into another, and we know you'll appreciate them for the entertainment that they're intended to offer. Thanks for your support of us and happy reading!

  ~Silver, Deanndra, Haven, MJ, TL, and Nicole

  Author Note

  Dear Readers,

  I wanted to take a moment to thank you for picking up a copy of Fighting for Brittney. This has been an amazing group project and book to write. When I requested Dirty-D, I had no idea what I was getting into. As an EMT-1 I knew the basics, but D... Well, he’s a whole other level. However, the more I wrote the character, the more I fell in love with him and with Brittney. They’re such an unlikely pair, and their secrets... Oh boy.

  Writing about storm chasing is new to me, but not by much. I researched as much information as I could to try to understand how and why tornadoes happen, and the one person I came back to, when I needed help, was Reed Timmer. A big thank you to him and all of the other storm chasers who put their lives on the line to keep people safe and informed during tornado season.

  A quick shout out to all of our police, first responders, fire/rescue, and doctors/nurses who also put their lives in harm’s way during and after severe weather.

  Thank you, to all of our city and county workers who, before the rain has passed, go out into the muck and begin the process to help clean up.

  As we head into tornado season in the next few weeks, please remember to be weather aware. Keep your weather radio where you can hear alerts and have extra batteries in case you need them. Have a designated safe place and have at least a few days of non-perishable food, in case you need it.

  I really do hope you enjoy Fighting for Brittney. I can promise you there will be more stories to come, so stay tuned.

  Until next time, keep reading!

  TL

  About the book

  Single mom and experience meteorologist Brittany Hart has spent her career saving lives and proving she's more than a woman on the weather team. When she travels to Tarpley Texas with her best friend and Storm chasing teammate Calliope, running into her one-night stand that changed her life almost seventeen years ago was the last thing she expected.

  After two tours in Afghanistan, Navy veteran, Dexter “Dirty-D” Walsh has found a new calling, volunteering with Tarpley's VFD as their paramedic. Seeing the one woman who rocked his world, years ago, brings back old memories. Only before he can get to her, she leaves, taking with her a young boy who reminds him of himself.

  When the storm of the century begins to brew Brittany follows her instincts, ignoring the doubters, and returns to the small town of Tarpley. She knows the chances of her running into Dirty-D are high, but it's a small price to pay if she can warn the town before disaster strikes. Can she protect her son's heart as well as her own, or will the storm snatch everything important away?

  To all our law enforcement, first responders, fire fighters, storm chasers, doctors, and nurses:

  Thank you.

  Prologue

  Sixteen years ago, San Antonio, Texas...

  Brittney Hart stepped into the local bar after showing her license and took a deep breath. The scent of stale beer, fried foods and sweat assailed her. She grinned. For the last three years she worked her ass off to achieve her goal of becoming the youngest weather girl in the southwest and she only had a year left. Today had been the first day of her summer vacation and her reward for studying hard so she could ace her tests—a night out with her friends.

  “Oh my God, I am so glad we’re done with school,” Calliope stated as they saddled up to the bar. “I think I’m going to spend my summer at the beach.”

  Brittney loved the idea. However, her mother already had other plans for her—an internship at one of the local television stations in Austin. Just like when Brittney was a child, her mother laid out every activity she'd participate in. For seventeen years, she'd been known as the pageant diva of Austin. Her mother – the pageant queen. Brittney loved it, but also hated it at the same time. Whereas she went into those competitions to make friends and have fun, her mother had been militant about her preparation, which didn’t include hanging out. God forbid if Brittney ever messed up, she’d never hear the end of it.

  “I’m going home,” Lars said. “My parents are thinking of selling their business and moving to Berlin.”

  “I’m staying right here,” Oz added. “I’m going to do some storm chasing, maybe get laid.”

  “What about you, Brit? What’ve you got
planned for the summer?” Shiro nudged her shoulder.

  “Internship,” she muttered. “My mother got me in with KTTO in Austin. I’m going to be learning from one of the best meteorologists in the country.”

  “You should be thrilled,” Calliope said. “I’d be so stoked if I were you.”

  Stoked, sure. “It’s not that I’m not.” She shrugged.

  “You wish it’d been your idea, not put on you,” Shiro said.

  “Yeah,” she answered. “I’ve worked so hard and come so far. I thought I could take the summer off before the final push and starting my career.”

  “Girl...” Calliope placed her hand on Brittney’s. “You need to get laid then you need to cut that umbilical cord. Mommy and daddy can’t plan your life for you. You’re twenty-one, not twelve. Act like it. If you don’t want the internship, I’ll take it off your hands.”

  No truer words had been spoken. “You know what? You're right!” Brittney smacked the bar then raised her hand to get the bartender's attention. When he approached, she gave their order. “A round of beers and shots for my friends and me.”

  He nodded. “Need to see some ID from all of you.”

  She handed hers over along with her daddy’s credit card. “Open a tab for us as well, please.”

  When the bartender was satisfied they were of age, Brittney headed over to one of the tables near the sawdust-covered dance floor. Calliope had a point. She couldn't remember the last time she let loose or if she ever had. Her life had become a routine her mother instilled in her since she'd been a little girl. Get up, workout—no one likes a flabby arm or poochie belly—eat low-calorie meals, because television added ten pounds to even the skinniest of people, go to school, study, and get a good night's rest. During pageant season, her mother's strictness had been way worse. But, it was more than that as well. Her mother wanted her to marry rich. Combine old money and become a dominant force in the oil industry.

  No matter how many times she tried to break her mother’s edict, she still followed the plan. Most days it drove her nuts. Other days, it brought her comfort because following the routine kept her grounded and centered during the most stressful of times. The last year had been her hardest classes wise. The deeper she went into her degree, the more stringent the professors and course work became. She didn’t dare add a “fun,” class. They were useless according to her mother, even though for Brittney’s senior year, she’d have to spend more than half of the year in those same classes her mother hated.

  “What’s the plan for tonight,” Shiro said, sitting next to her.

  “Get drunk and figure it all out tomorrow,” she said.

  “Sounds like a plan.” He grinned.

  She stared at Shiro for a moment. He'd been her type. Smart. Attractive. He had a wicked sense of humor and brought that extra bit of humanity she'd been missing, into everything they did. “We should have sex.” The words tumbled from her. If she'd been drunk, she could have blamed the alcohol, but she'd been stone-cold sober.

  Shiro stared at her. His brown eyes widened in surprise before he schooled his features and laughed. “Now you're getting the hang of it.”

  That wasn’t a yes or a no. To be honest, if he’d said yes, she’d have probably chickened out. “I made a joke.” She gave a small, nervous chuckle. “You should have seen the look on your face.”

  Shiro leaned in. “If you were being serious, I’d have taken you up on the offer.”

  Brittney lifted her gaze to meet his. The truth of his statement reflected in his eyes. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

  “You should.”

  Before she could say anything else, Calliope, Lars, and Oz sat down with them. Oz placed the tray of shots and beers in the middle of the table for each of them to grab. Shiro continued to stare at her as he grabbed the shot glass off the tray then downed the tequila in one gulp. Brittney's mouth went dry. Her heart hammered. How in the world had she gotten into this predicament?

  She quickly downed the tequila then began nursing her beer. She needed to give herself a moment to gather her composure. Shiro’s statement had thrown her for a loop and if the way he watched her had been any indication, he knew it too. Not good.

  “Come on, let’s dance,” Calliope said, grabbing Brittney by the arm. “These duds can watch.”

  Yeah, watch.

  The music changed to something with a better beat and Brittney began to move. She closed her eyes, feeling the rhythm flow through her veins. Yes, this had been exactly what she needed after working herself to the bone. Calliope giggled and Brittney opened her eyes. Her friend rubbed against some random guy, sway her hips to the sensual beat. If anyone was getting laid, it was Calliope. No doubt about it.

  The music changed again and this time the tempo changed to something a little more techno and a lot less top 40. Brittney let go. She finished her beer and dumped it into one of the trash bins then began to dance like it was the last time she’d ever get to, which was ridiculous. She had all summer.

  Twice more she returned to the bar for a shot and a beer. Her heart pounded from dancing, and her skin had become slick with sweat. As she waited for her order to be filled, she spied a guy in a Navy uniform at the end of the bar with a group of guys. The width of his back leading to his tapered waist denoted the power hidden beneath the pressed tan dress shirt and dark brown slacks.

  As if he felt her staring at him, he turned. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. All the spit in her mouth dried up. Her heart skipped a beat. The man was sex on a stick. His dark-brown eyes ate her up while the corner of his mouth kicked upward in a sinfully delicious smirk. He ran his tongue over his full bottom lip before pushing off the side of the bar and started for her.

  Brittney's breath came in soft pants. Her skin heated as a tingle of arousal slid down her spine. This guy had danger written all over him. If she'd been smart, she'd have told the bartender to send her drinks over to the table and walked away. Instead, she stood there, watching the man she'd been ogling, close the distance between them. She glanced at the nameplate on his shirt. Walsh. Below it was several different colorful bars.

  “Do you stare at every man as though you’re about to devour them?” He leaned against the polished teak, holding her gaze. “Or did you just happen to see something you liked?”

  She giggled then slapped her hand over her mouth.

  He snorted. “My names Dexter.” He held his hand out to her. “But, everyone calls me Dirty-D.”

  She placed her hand in his. “Brittney. You can call me whatever you like.” Okay, maybe she didn’t need another beer or shot. She cleared her throat. “Why do they call you Dirty-D?”

  He invaded her space. The scent of his spicy cologne left her a bit light-headed and off-balanced—maybe it was the alcohol. “Would you like to find out?”

  The silkiness of his words sent a wave of pleasure through her. “You don’t know me.”

  “You don’t know me either, princess,” he murmured. “That won’t stop you though.”

  Cocky or maybe cocksure, she didn’t know, nor did she care. The way his gaze ate her up, turned her on. “Buy me a drink and maybe?”

  He laughed. The deep, rich sound vibrated through her. She closed her eyes and swayed toward him. Did he even realize the potency of his sexual prowess? Did he care? “You’ve got it.”

  When the bartender placed her drinks in front of her, Dexter paid. She downed the tequila then took a sip of her beer. He watched her. “So, what do you do?” She tipped her beer toward his uniform.

  “Navy Corpsman,” he said. “I tend to the sick and injured.”

  Somehow, she didn’t believe that was all he did. “Noble profession. Are you on leave?”

  “Ship out tomorrow,” he said. “Going to Afghanistan for a tour.”

  Brittney frowned. “Doesn’t sound like a good idea.”

  Dexter rolled his shoulders. “Someone has to do it.”

  True. She hated war. Hated seeing all the broken and battered soldiers
who came home. “Sure.”

  “Why are we talking about this shit?” he asked. “We should be having fun.”

  Fun. “Duh. We’re celebrating the end of school,” she said. “Finals are a bitch.”

  “Oh? What are you studying?” He took a drink from his beer.

  “Meteorology,” she replied. “I want to be a weather girl.”

  He tilted his head. “Serious?”

  She nodded. “Top of my class.”

  “Impressive.” He took her hand. “Well, top-of-the-class weather girl, come dance with me.”

  He pulled her out onto the dancefloor and tucked her body to his. The heat of his muscular frame chased away the nervous knot in her stomach. The way the guy moved; she could only imagine how he’d be in bed. Gah! She mentally slapped herself. She shouldn't be thinking about sex. Ever since she blurted out Shiro and she should have sex, she couldn't stop thinking about it.

  “You’re thinking too hard,” he whispered. His lips brushed across the shell of her ear and she shivered.

  “Not really,” she lied.

  He laughed again. “You’re dangerous.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She glanced away from him, trying to break whatever magnetic pull he had over her.

  “Sure you do.” He placed his hand on the small of her back. Warmth seeped into her skin where he touched her. “I’m enjoying the hell out of this dance.”

 

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