by Marie Harte
Tex just stared at her, and the intense scrutiny he gave her face, staring into her eyes, made those blasted butterflies in her belly take rapid flight with no sign of settling down.
“Tex?”
He gave a slow nod. “Got it. I swear not to mess up either of our jobs.” He swallowed. “Can I just ask what your dad has against firefighters? I mean, he is one, right?”
She sighed. “I have no idea. I only know that’s the one area of my life my dad is insane about. He doesn’t want me dating a fireman. Ever. I don’t even know why I agreed to go out with you in the first place.”
He looked like he wanted to say something but kept his mouth shut and nodded instead. “Where do you want to meet Wednesday? At the station?”
“At Sofa’s in Green Lake for breakfast. Be there at nine, okay?”
He nodded. “That’s sleeping in for me. No problem. See you then.” He walked away, no more innuendo, no sly winks or teasing. And she reminded herself that it was for the best, because no way she and Tex would end well in a more intimate relationship. Which really was too bad.
The butterflies inside her had yet to settle down as she watched that fine ass walk away.
Chapter Three
Tuesday night, Tex sat with the guys at Reggie’s obsessively neat house for a late-night barbecue. Tex would have managed the grilling, but Mack had volunteered, leaving Tex to enjoy a beer with Brad and Reggie. Talk, of course, centered around his upcoming volunteer work for a certain photographer.
“I hope you know you’re putting the rest of us in a bad spot.” Brad grabbed a handful of chips. “They’re sending over someone from Madison Park to cover for you. And I have to partner with him since Reggie won Mack on the coin toss.”
“Not sure that’s a win,” Reggie muttered. “He talks. A lot.”
Brad grinned.
Tex frowned. “Reggie, you and Mack normally pair together. Why did you let Brad sucker you into a coin toss?”
“It just seemed fairer to let fate pick the loser.” Reggie shrugged. “Besides, ever since Brad started dating Avery, he’s all emotional all the time. He was whining about something or other, then he started crying. I couldn’t take it. Frankly, Brad, it was embarrassing.”
Tex nodded. “Oh, right. When he was bawlin’ his eyes out Sunday night. Damn, son. It was a Chicago Fire rerun, and they did save the day.”
Reggie laughed. “They always do—no matter how dramatic it is.”
Brad growled, “I cried on Sunday because some asshole shoved a handful of jalapeños into my turkey sub without me knowing.” Brad gave Tex the eye. “I about had a heart attack.”
“Whoa, now. It wasn’t me. I’d have used habaneros, maybe ghost peppers. Jalapeños? Please. Besides, we all know you can’t handle hot stuff. You can barely handle Avery.”
“Truth.” Reggie held up a hand, and Tex slapped it.
“It was Wash,” Reggie said. “And probably Mack. I swear, our little Air Force is getting way too chummy with the rest of C shift.”
“No kidding.” Tex shook his head. “Mack and Wash have been working on pranking the lieutenant.”
The crew at the station lived to tease each other. It had started innocently enough with one of the firefighters’ kids leaving a doll behind after visiting. A Ken doll, which did actually look like Brad, started doing odd things to Barbies and other monstrous action figures found in the station in odd places. Then the station’s other lieutenant, Sue Arthur, who resembled Dora the Explorer, started finding Dora stickers on her notebooks and the cute little doll sitting at her desk. Everyone at the station thought it hilarious, Tex included.
“They’re pranking Ed?” Brad laughed. “Oh, that’s why they were messing around with an old A-Team action figure. Ed does kind of remind you of Hannibal. If Hannibal were twenty pounds lighter, with less gray, and a few inches taller.”
Tex frowned. “Hannibal?”
Brad sighed. “He’s a character from an old eighties show my mom used to like. Never mind.”
Reggie grinned. “It was a great show. Wait. You know, I think they did a skit on Family Guy about that.”
Tex stopped Reggie before he got on one of his pop culture kicks. “No one cares, Reggie.”
“Ass.”
Tex ignored him. “Anyhow, ever since Ken left Barbie for Pup Patrol—on your behalf,” Tex said to Brad, “everyone’s talking about how funny it would be to get Ed. He’s the only guy left no one’s ever fucked with.”
“Yeah, the LT should know better than to think he’s immune.” Reggie snorted. “Ed needs to realize he’s fair game.”
Tex liked seeing his buddy in a better mood. His breakup with Amy months ago had left a sore spot Reggie liked to pretend didn’t exist, but he hadn’t been himself for too long.
“Just don’t involve me in it,” Tex told them. “I’m on thin ice bein’ with Bree and all. Ed warned me not to screw things up.”
“You mean, not to screw Bree,” Reggie clarified.
“Well, yeah.” Tex finished his beer and got up to get more from Reggie’s fridge. He returned with seconds for the guys as well. “Bree gave me the speech, like I thought she might.”
He’d already told them how his meeting with Chief Gilchrist had gone. “She’s pretty serious about me not doing anything to mess with her project. Not that I would.” He’d been thinking about nothing but Bree and her ideas since yesterday afternoon’s meeting. “But I’m telling you both. That woman is mine.”
Mack had returned at that moment, and the whole crew stared at Tex as if he’d grown a third eye.
Mack frowned. “Wait. Say that again?”
“My future girlfriend wants nothing to do with me. I have to trick her into trying me on for size. And with her daddy against her dating a fireman, it’s not going to be easy.”
Mack frowned. “Did you hit your head or something?”
“Are you drunk?” Brad asked.
“He has to be.” Reggie nodded. “Because trying to seduce a woman who continually tells you no sounds a lot like stalking. Or assault. Hmm, and what’s another buzz word, Brad?”
“Career suicide?” Mack offered.
“That’s two words,” Tex muttered.
“Oh, wait, I know a few.” Brad smiled, though there was nothing funny about what he was saying. “Hashtag MeToo. Criminal offense. Jail time. Getting fired.”
“Whoa, whoa.” Tex put his beer down and waved a finger at them. “I’m not gonna stalk her or hurt her. Jesus. Relax, you guys. I’m talking about showing her how great I am then stepping back. That way she makes all the moves. See, I’m going to let her fall in love with me. Because a gentleman always lets a lady set the pace.”
“Oh, that’s what he meant.” Reggie scoffed. “You are so going to get yourself in trouble from this. Tex, man, we can only cover for you so long before Ed and the captain—and the freakin’ battalion chief—fire your ass.”
“For what?”
“Being stupid,” Mack and Brad said together.
Tex frowned. “I’d never hurt a woman.”
“We know that.” Brad sighed. “But Tex, you don’t seem to be thinking straight about Bree. You haven’t been for months.”
“I’m crushin’ on her. I admit it.”
Reggie scowled. “You barely know her. Trust me. Love doesn’t guarantee a happily ever after.”
Mack nodded. “He’s right.”
“But if I don’t try, I can’t…” Tex couldn’t explain it to them. Heck, he could barely explain it to himself. He felt things for Bree that made no sense. And he needed to know if he was experiencing infatuation, lust, or something else. Something he thought he might really feel for the woman. And that had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with affection and respect, which usually took a lot longer for him to feel.
And he’d
know, having dated. A lot.
“Okay, okay.” Reggie surprised him by standing and supporting him. “We’re behind you, man. But you have to be smart. Go slow. Do your charm thing that doesn’t seem like it’s intentional.”
“And use the hat.” Mack nodded to Tex’s Stetson sitting on the couch. “Ladies dig the hat.”
Brad seemed to reluctantly agree. “Yeah, even Avery likes it. But like Reggie said, be smart. Do all the dancing you want but let her make the first move.”
“Fellas, I know no means no,” Tex teased. They didn’t smile back. “I swear. I’m smarter than I look.”
“And thank God for that,” Mack said. “Anyway, I came in to let you know dinner’s almost ready.” He grabbed a platter from the kitchen and went out back again.
Reggie headed toward the dining table. “Look, Tex. If you like the girl, I’m with you. But I’m also worried, because you normally have more sense than to fuck with your future.”
“What Reggie said.” Brad stood and met with the rest of them around a large dining table, where Mack set a platter of ribs and burgers, joining plates of burger fixings, buns, and some potato and macaroni salads.
As the four of them sat and ate, the familiar camaraderie settled, giving Tex what he’d missed when he’d left home and again what he’d lost in leaving the Marine Corps. He loved all his families: the one he’d been born into, the one he’d served his country with, and the one now seated around Reggie’s table.
Though their caution about Bree grated, he knew they cared, which made for frank talk. They shared what they needed to in a safe space, something Tex never took for granted. Maybe because he’d known too many guys who’d had nobody, and he understood the gift of brotherhood he had with these men.
“Reggie, what’s up with you? The truth,” he said, knowing Reggie needed to do something about his attitude before it ate him up inside. “I’ve been honest about Bree. I’m love-bit, and I’m stupid. I know. But I won’t make the same mistake twice. Then we have Brad, who finally did right by Avery. He’s in a good place.” Tex glanced at Mack and grinned. “And our car-lovin’ brother is content with his Chevelle. That leaves you and your pissy attitude.”
Reggie glared, but when Tex didn’t break his stare, the big guy groaned. “You guys need to give me some space, okay?”
Brad snorted. “Um, no. We did that for months. Tell us what’s up. You need a date? Avery knows people.”
“I have a few friends who have friends,” Tex said, though he’d been planning to steer clear of his exes on account of his plan to woo Bree. But for his buddy, he’d revisit the past.
“And I know women too.” Mack scowled when the guys just looked at him. “I do.”
“I don’t need a hookup, thanks,” Reggie growled. “Amy fucked with my head, okay? Is that what you want to hear?”
Tex huffed. “Man, we already knew that. But that was a while ago. What are you thinkin’ now, hoss?”
“God, not more cowboy talk,” Mack complained. “But yeah, what Tex said. Come on, Reggie. You’re no fun anymore. Always mad at everything. And let’s all be honest here. The breakup wasn’t your fault. You were great with Amy from the beginning. You even loved her kid.”
“Rachel.” Reggie swallowed.
“Yeah,” Brad said, his voice soft. “We know Amy messed you up by leaving. But brother, it’s her loss. You still have us.”
“And your dad and sisters,” Tex added. “You never did tell us what they had to say about Amy leaving.” At Reggie’s look, Tex stared. “You didn’t tell them?”
“No. I just said we were done.” Reggie squirmed, which was funny, seeing a guy that big and intimidating threatened by his much smaller sisters. “Lisa and Nadia would kill her. And then Rachel would be without a dad and a mom.”
“No shit. Your sisters scare me,” Mack said and made the sign of the cross. “But tell them I said hi and how much I admire them, just in case ‘hi’ offends them.”
Which had everyone laughing. Reggie’s sisters were gorgeous, funny, and mean to anyone who messed with their younger brother.
Tex smiled. “Look, you need to realize you’ll find your own Miss Right someday. If Brad can do it, surely the rest of us can.”
“Real funny, Tex.” Brad didn’t look pleased.
“But it’s true. You just have to get outta that hero mindset and let some fine woman be there for you,” Tex told Reggie, which all of them knew but Reggie never wanted to hear. “Amy always needed rescuing. Well, she rescued herself out of a fine man. Now she’s done and gone.” And good riddance. The woman had used Reggie for way too long. “Little Rachel was lucky to have known you. Now, since Avery and Bree are clearly taken, you need to find yourself some other woman. And that means getting out there again.”
“Please, no more.” Reggie seemed to sink into himself. “My father is dating again, and he’s been giving me dating advice.” He looked sick. “If it’s all the same to you guys, let’s talk about something else. I promise, I’ll get back to scoping out women.”
“By the end of the month, or I’ll have Avery trying to hook you up live on the internet,” Brad said.
Tex laughed. “That’s the way. Get Reggie on the show to adopt some Pets Fur Life critters. And speaking of which, the calendar was a success, so I hear.”
Brad nodded. “I talked to Avery’s roommate, who’s been taking on more responsibility with the charity. Oscar too,” Brad said proudly. His brother had been dating said roommate and getting his life on a good track.
Tex liked the guy, which reminded him to give Oscar a call back. He’d left a message yesterday, but Tex hadn’t yet listened to it. “I’ll give him a call.”
“Why do you talk to Oscar more than I do?”
Because I miss my own brothers, and Oscar reminds me of Wyatt. “Jealous, Ken?” The Barbie/Ken shot was always good for a zing, especially because Brad got that lemon face when anyone used it…like now. Tex grinned. “Don’t be. I like to keep track of the animals, is all. Unless you’d rather I talked to Avery more about it. I mean, with her and the adoption show and all. She seems to have a thing for buff guys. Sadly, she settled for you. Imagine what the hottest guy in Station 44 could do for her?” He flexed.
Brad’s face turned red, which had the rest of them snickering. “Fuck you. Leave my woman alone. Talk to Oscar all you want.” His expression turned sly. “Or, you know, we could have you and Bree guest star on Avery’s show. I’ll bet Avery would love to interview Bree about how she knows you and what she really thinks of you, Tex.”
“Ah, no.” He could just see their show getting too much attention…from her father, his captain, and Ed, not to mention everyone at the station. “I’m good. Say, who wants more ribs?”
The others laughed, and talk turned to D shift and who they expected to take Sue’s spot when she took her yearly two-week vacation.
But Tex couldn’t stop thinking about how to behave the next morning and if he should be cool or turn up the heat with Bree. Hmm. Decisions, decisions…
***
Tuesday evening, Bree half-heartedly enjoyed a box of caramel corn on Carrie’s couch while her best friend stared a hole through her forehead.
Bree squirmed. “Stop. You’re making me self-conscious.”
Carrie raised a brow, the same one that, when used in the courtroom, often had witnesses spilling the truth to cut through Carrie’s awful silences and uncomfortable stares.
“Oh? Do you feel terrible for being a glutton and hogging all the caramel corn yourself? Or because you know that consuming that much sugar means the fat goes right to your thighs?” Carrie smiled, but the barb still stung.
Bree tossed a handful of her treat at Carrie, who watched the caramel corn fall to the ultraclean carpet of her living room floor and scowled. “I’m not cleaning that up.”
Bree slouched on the co
uch, maneuvering to lie faceup while hanging her head upside down over the cushions. Carrie looked less scary from a different perspective. “Relax, neatnik. I’ll pick it up in a minute.”
“I’m still waiting to hear why you didn’t tell your father about that asshole with the nice pecs.” Carrie’s description of Tex.
Bree sighed.
“You’re so pathetic.”
“I know.” Bree groaned.
Carrie’s dark eyes should have been warm, the brown having a deeper richness than her cropped, platinum-blond hair. But the woman had taken the nickname “Ice Queen” to heart. Six-two, white, and rail-thin, Carrie still looked like the runway model she’d once been with an angular face full of contrasts—an irregular beauty that had sold a lot of copy and clothes from all the top designers. For a while, she and Bree had modeled together, touring Italy and Paris before finishing with a stint in southern Germany Bree still thought of with fondness.
But Carrie had bailed from a life of fake perfection at the same time Bree had. For different reasons, but the result had been the same. Carrie had left the looks business for good and focused on her law career instead.
“Do you ever regret that you never went pro?” Bree asked out of the blue, switching topics to Carrie’s other career.
Without missing a beat, Carrie answered, “Nope. By now I’d have knee and ankle injuries, and I’d be constantly worried about being kicked off the team.” Carrie had played four years of varsity basketball for the Oregon Beavers. But instead of continuing into the WNBA, she’d been discovered by a modeling scout and entered the tricky world of high fashion. “Besides, after my scholarship, the modeling paid for my law school. Cha-ching.”
“Paid for my cameras and business start-up too. Another cha in your ching.”
Carrie raised a glass of apple juice and clinked glasses with Bree’s, which remained on the coffee table while Bree hung partly upside down.
