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Sullivan (Laurel Springs Emergency Response Team Book 5)

Page 4

by Laramie Briscoe


  “You’re one to talk.” I level him with a glare. “From what I heard it took Stella being in a pretty dangerous situation for you to ask her to go out with you.”

  “Do as I say, not as I do.” He shrugs. “Besides we’re married now with a super cute kid and the best dog there ever was. So…I mean I feel like I did good. I really thought after you took her home from the Christmas party, something would have happened between the two of you.”

  Fuck.

  And I’m wearing sweatpants.

  No one knows what did happen between us, especially Shelby. She’d passed out either before she came or after, I’m still not sure, and I haven’t been able to bring myself to ask. That night had been the most exhilarating and frustrating of my life. I swear I walked around with blue balls for fucking days.

  “I took her home, made sure she was good, and went to my own apartment.”

  It’s the lie I’ll tell til the day I die.

  I don’t want anyone to think I took advantage of her, and nor her to be embarrassed. So I live with it, trying my best every day to figure out how to bring it up.

  “Sure.” Ransom grins smugly. “You keep telling yourself that.”

  My treadmill beeps, letting me know my five miles are done. Thank God. I don’t even do my cool down, I just hop off, saying some sort of goodbye to Ransom.

  The last thing I need is to hear anymore love advice from him.

  He’s married. With a kid. Everything you thought you’d have by now, my brain mocks me.

  Shut up, I scream back.

  My stride is long as I head to the locker room. Normally I’d take a shower and change, but right now, I need to get out of here. For some reason it feels as if the walls are closing in, and there’s nowhere for me to escape to. Going to my locker, I yank it open, grab my bag out, and make my getaway.

  Once I’m in my Mustang, I hit the straight-stretch of highway next to the PD, and gun it, just to hear the roar of the engine. Something about this car always puts me in a better mood.

  Hearing and feeling the power behind in palm of my hands is enough to center me and bring me down to earth.

  My stomach growls causing me to look at my smartwatch. I burned over eight hundred calories, and I think I deserve some Café food.

  Slowing down next to the downtown entrance, I signal a left-hand turn, looking for a parking spot. Everybody must be out and ready for lunch; everything in front of The Café is taken.

  My eyes shift over to where Shelby’s law office is located. Her car is there, and I wonder if she’s had lunch yet.

  Would I be out of line to ask her to join me? I hate eating alone, and I know she does too. Would she understand that I’m asking as more than a friend?

  Probably not.

  “Man the fuck up, Sullivan.”

  That’s the problem. Last time I manned up and gave everything I had to a woman I thought I had a future with, she laughed at me.

  Fucking laughed in my face.

  Then turned around and got with my brother.

  It hit my self-esteem hard, my self-image harder. Not the coolest thing for a man to admit to, but it’s taken me a while to recover from the blow.

  Circling downtown, I finally find a spot almost as far away from The Café as I can get. Fuck it. I’ll take it. Within seconds I’m parked, and out, beeping the auto locks as I pull the hood of my hoodie back over my head, doing my best to block out the cool air.

  We have a new roundabout, and I swear to Jesus, only two percent of the people know how to use it. I literally wait to walk across until no one is coming, although I have the right of way. Today is not the day I wanna die.

  Sprinting across the pavement, I walk up onto the curb, right in front of Shelby’s office.

  I’m arguing with myself, trying to figure out if I wanna bite the bullet and ask her to have lunch with me, when the decision is taken out of my hands. The door opens, and there she is.

  The object of my jerk off sessions.

  The star in all my erotic dreams.

  Right there in the fuckin’ flesh.

  She turns, catching sight of me as she does. “Oh my God, hey, Sully! I was just thinking about you.”

  Her cheeks are bright and rosy. I’m unsure if it’s from the cool weather, or her thoughts. “Oh really? What were you thinking about me for?”

  “Whitney is trying to figure out a good way to raise money for the LSERT, and one of the girls suggested an auction. I thought you’d be perfect for it. You’d probably fetch the most. You’re one of the city’s hottest bachelors.”

  I don’t know whether to be flattered or offended.

  “Y’all were talking about auctioning me off?”

  “Yeah.” She grins. “Weren’t you saying something the other day about needing to meet new people?”

  That’s not what I meant, and I’m pretty damn sure she knows it.

  “Not necessarily in that way.” I scratch at my chin.

  “It would be for a great cause,” she reminds me.

  “I know, but I’ll have to think about it.”

  Shelby’s smile falters slightly and I mentally kick myself for refusing the invitation she’d eloquently extended to me. One day I’ll get this shit right.

  “I understand, but just so you know, you get to make all the rules of the date.”

  That’s only appealing if I can get Shelby to participate too.

  “What about women?” I ask impulsively. “Are they being auctioned off too?”

  Her green eyes cloud; I can’t read the emotion, but I don’t back away from my question.

  “Yeah, I’m one of them.”

  “Do you think that’s wise? There’s a lot of guys out there who would do something to hurt women.”

  She tilts her head to the side. “I lived in Houston, I think I can take care of myself, Sully.”

  “Be that as it may, I’d need to meet the person who gets the date with you, or you’d at least have to tell me something about it, to set my mind at ease.”

  This time when she looks at me, there’s a sparkle in her eye. My gaze travels down to where her tongue peaks out between straight, white teeth to lick her plump, pink bottom lip.

  “I was thinking something that involves chairs and handcuffs.”

  Suddenly I know I have to be at this auction, I have to be the one who wins the date with her. And call me crazy, but maybe she remembers a lot more from the night at the Christmas party than I gave her credit for.

  Chapter 5

  Shelby

  He’s speechless.

  Sully keeps opening his mouth and then shutting it. No words come out, even though his throat is working so hard his Adam’s apple bobs up and down. The tension between us is slightly awkward, and I do the only thing I can think of.

  Invite him to lunch.

  “I was about to head over to The Café. You wanna join me?”

  The question seems to pull him from whatever stupor he was stuck in.

  “You sure? I just worked out, and I don’t smell the best. I was gonna take a shower at the station, but I had to get outta there.”

  “I’ve smelled you worse than that before,” I remind him. “I am the one who helped you after the kid in the downstairs apartment puked on you.”

  His face flashes red before a smile tilts up the side of his full lips. “For a while I was able to forget that happened. Thanks for bringing it back up, though.”

  “You’re welcome.” I grin.

  Grabbing hold of his arm, I start us walking toward the direction of what will be our lunch. My body recognizes his, and before I know it, I’m squeezing his bicep, admiring the firm muscle.

  Wondering about all the other parts of him that are hard too.

  When we get to the door, he opens it, holding it for me, and then a couple of older ladies. It makes my heart jump, the way he gives them a smile and acknowledges them with a nod of his head.

  More than anyone I’ve ever met, Sullivan Baker is a good guy.


  “Go ahead and sit wherever you want to, I’ll be with you in a second,” Leigh says as she sees us.

  “Booth or table?” I look up, letting him make the decision.

  He nods over to the booth across from where we stand. Sliding in, I immediately grab a menu so I don’t have to meet his eyes.

  Sully doesn’t. He gets the same thing every time he comes here. Me? I like a little variety in my life.

  I’m making a show of perusing the menu when he clears his throat. His big hands are spread across the table, and he leans in, his voice low.

  “Did you mean what you said out there?”

  Slowly, I put the menu down, licking my bottom lip. “Which part? I said a lot of things.”

  Dark eyes the color of whiskey stare back at me. An intensity I’ve only seen in him once before making them flare a deeper brown than normal.

  “The part about chairs and cuffs.” His voice is pitched so only we can hear it. “I thought you didn’t remember.”

  For a few moments, I don’t know what to say to him. It was easy to tease, especially when I wanted to shock him. But here? Right now? He’s putting me on the spot. “I remember,” I whisper. He probably can’t even hear me.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Apparently I was wrong, and Sully has ears like a bat. I’m saved when Leigh comes to take our orders and put the drinks she knows we always get in front of us. For as long as I can, I make a big production out of putting sugar in my tea and stirring it around, tasting it so that I’m sure it’s to my satisfaction.

  “I’m waiting.”

  He’s impatient, reached the end of his rope. He wants my explanation now.

  “I don’t want to have this conversation here,” I hiss across the table. “Not where anyone could eavesdrop.”

  “Then we’ll take our food to go, we’ll sit in my car, and you’ll tell me what I want to know.”

  Swallowing roughly, I manage to nod. Funny how I’ve waited for him to ask me about this for so long, but now that I’m faced with the opportunity to lay it all out on the line - I’m shy. He gets up, signaling to Leigh.

  There’s no telling the excuse he’s making, and when her gaze flits over to me, I want to ask. The expression on her face is one of amusement.

  Nothing we did with one another was amusing.

  Before I know it, he’s carrying a to-go bag of food over to our booth, along with two plastic cups. Sully doesn’t sit down; he takes matters into his own hands, pouring our drinks, and nodding to me. “Let’s go.”

  This is who I’m used to, this man who takes charge and pushes ahead. It’s who he was that cold night in December, and I long for more of it. We don’t talk as we leave The Café. He points to his car, and together we walk swiftly. Me trying to keep up with his long legs, and him looking like he’s fleeing from the devil himself.

  Not even five minutes have passed when I find myself in his passenger seat, our food spread out on the console, holding my sweet tea in my hand.

  His voice is hoarse, choked, almost like he’s having trouble swallowing. “I’m gonna ask you again, Shelby. Why didn’t you tell me you remembered?”

  Grabbing a fry, I dip it in ketchup before bringing it up to my mouth.

  Stalling.

  I’m one hundred percent stalling.

  “Stop licking the fucking ketchup off your lip and tell me.”

  His tone is a warning that goes straight to the spot in between my thighs.

  “I didn’t tell you because you never mentioned it. When you didn’t mention it,” - I stop for a second, running my fingers through my hair so that it covers part of my face - “I thought you regretted what happened.”

  “I thought you regretted it,” he accuses.

  “I didn’t.”

  “I didn’t either.” His hands grip the steering wheel. “Now what do we do about it?”

  That’s the thousand-dollar question.

  “What do you want to do about it?” I ask softly.

  Sully runs his hands through his hair, before bringing them back down onto the steering wheel. His thumbs beat a rhythm only he can hear, but I still watch intently. Waiting to see what he does, dying to know what he’s going to say.

  “We’re good friends.” He shrugs.

  My throat tightens, threatening to close, as I do my best to push the tears that are pooling in my eyes back. “We are.” My voice strained to my own ears. If he can’t hear it, he’s fucking deaf.

  “I don’t have a lot of friends since I moved here,” he mumbles, almost as if he’s trying to convince himself we should value the friendship more than the obvious connection we have.

  My stomach clenches at his words, heart threatens to beat out of my chest, and I’m doing my best not to have a full-on breakdown right here. I can feel it, the bit of hope I had for us to expand on what happened at Christmas is going down like the Titanic. I have to get out of here before I embarrass myself further. “Stop.” I struggle to close the Styrofoam container. Each time I shove the tabs into the hole, it pops back out, until one of them breaks off. “Fuck!”

  “Here, let me help you.” He’s reaching out.

  “No, I got it.”

  “You didn’t let me finish what I was going to say.” His brown eyes all but pin me against the passenger door.

  “I don’t need to hear it. I’ve heard the friend-zone speech one too many times.”

  “It’s so easy with you,” he continues.

  “Sullivan, I said I don’t want to hear it.”

  When I finally get the container closed, I toss it on his dash.

  “Shelby, I don’t want either of us to get hurt.” He grabs my hand, but I yank it away as soon as I feel the warmth of his touch.

  Too late.

  “I understand.” I chew on my bottom lip to keep from sobbing. “But right now I have to go to an appointment I forgot about.”

  “Shelby, you don’t understand.” He tries to soften the blow, but it’s there. A huge hole in my stomach - big as a cannon blast.

  “Sorry, I should have remembered. My client will probably be pissed.”

  “Shelby, stop.”

  Opening the door, I step out with one leg, before turning to face him. “I’ll see you around the apartment complex?”

  Before he can say anything else, I’m out the door, speed walking to my office, praying to God he doesn’t follow me. I need to fall apart, then put myself back together, and I need to do it in private.

  How stupid could I have been to think he’d want more from me than one night of a good time?

  He didn’t even get the good time. Reaching down, I take off my heels, and finish the sprint to my office.

  Opening the door, I throw the shoes on the ground, and then hurriedly lock it, collapsing against the solid wood. It’s strong enough to take the weight of me and ten others, but I’m not sure it can withstand the heaviness of my broken heart.

  I let the tears fall, stream down like rain. My breath comes in huge gulps as I struggle across the hall to where the bathroom is.

  “It’s okay,” I whisper. “You’ll be fine, Shelby. You’ll pull through this and come out on the other side like you always do.”

  Taking a few deep breaths, I do my best to calm down. Eventually the tears stop and I get some paper towels to wipe off my face. Looking in the mirror is jarring. My makeup is wrecked; mascara and eyeliner are smudged and all the lipstick is chewed off my lips.

  “This isn’t the end of the world,” I say out loud as I start to repair the smudged makeup. “You never really had him, girl.”

  But I’m seriously not sure if I’ll be able to repair the damage to my heart as easily.

  Chapter 6

  Sullivan

  I watch her run away, glued to my seat.

  Get up!

  Go after her!

  But I can’t seem to make myself move. This didn’t go the way I imagined it would at all. In my mind I’d always pictured us talking about
the night of the Christmas party in a controlled environment. We would laugh remembering how hot we were for one another, then we’d admit we both had feelings for each other, ending with a fucking replay of what happened that night.

  The only thing I can do is beat my palm against the steering wheel. Why didn’t I go after her?

  Inhaling deeply, I grab up the food and take it over to one of the homeless men who uses our square as his home. I’ve completely lost my appetite. Irritated beyond belief, I start up the car and head toward the apartment complex I call home.

  Halfway there, my phone rings. For two seconds I think about not picking it up, but when I see the smiling face of my sister, I answer quickly.

  “Hey.”

  “You sound extremely excited to hear from me. Are you okay, Sully?”

  What I wouldn’t give to lay all this down at her feet, but she’s probably calling me about wedding preparations and there’s no way I’m going to take away the joy of this time in her life. “I’m fine, just had a rough day. What’s happening?”

  “Cutter told me he hasn’t been able to touch base with you yet, but he wants you to be one of his groomsmen.”

  The heaviness of my heart lifts slightly. No matter how I’m feeling about my own life, Ro and Cutter have one of the best things going I’ve ever seen. “He wants me to be a groomsman?”

  “Yeah, I know it doesn’t mean as much coming from me, but we’re trying to tag-team this wedding.”

  “No, I understand we’ve been busy as hell too. Neither one of you owe me an explanation. What do I need to do?”

  “Get fitted for your tux within the next week? We don’t have a whole lotta time.”

  The way she’s speaking makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. “I thought you two weren’t in a big hurry. Why within the next week?”

  She’s quiet in a way that makes me nervous. I’ve heard my sister quiet before, and this kind of silence almost has me turning the car around and heading to the ambulance bay to beat Cutter’s ass.

  “Nothing bad.” I can hear the smile in her voice. “I found out yesterday I’m pregnant,” she whisper-shouts to me. “You’re the first person I’ve told, and I wish I could do it in person, but you know how life is right now. We want to get married before I start showing.”

 

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