by Nicki Rowe
“Hey, Luck,” Patrick says as I come to the counter with my cup of coffee and a bag of cheese puffs. “Late night?”
Patrick is my cousin on my mom's side. We used to be inseparable when we were younger, but after Patrick's mom and my mom got into a huge argument when my mom's boyfriend left her for my Aunt Magnolia when we were thirteen Patrick and I haven't talked much. We're more like aquanticences then family. It always makes me sad when I think about the summers we used to spend by the lake, and how we no longer have the same relationship we had when we were kids. I've tried to repair the relationship, but Patrick and I have just drifted too far apart; we have nothing in common anymore.
“Yeah, patrolling. Gotta keep these streets safe.” I laugh. Glensville's the safest town in Washington. Nothing ever happens here.
Patrick doesn't laugh. “I don't get it.”
“Cop humor, I guess,” I mumble.
He just gives me this look like I have gone crazy. I sigh, take my snack and head towards the door.
“See ya around, Pat.”
He doesn't say anything.
I make it to my cruiser and see some punk teens have put a box of donuts on the hood of my car, written in black marker it says: FUKIN PIG! on the lid. I can hear the kids running down the dark street in the opposite direction, laughing their asses off. I can see the backs of them, three little shits in total: two boys and a girl.
Yeah, real hilarious. Assholes.
“Stay in school! You'll learn how to spell properly!” I yell in the direction of the kids' laughter.
They just laugh harder and run faster. Soon they're gone.
I take the donuts and chuck them into the trash. I don't even like donuts. They're too sweet. Shit like this happens almost nightly. Like I said there isn't anything to do in this town, even the teens are bored, and that's why they pull shit like this.
I climb back into the cruiser, and before I can pull out of the parking lot my phone buzzes in the cup holder. I pull it out to see Carter, a fellow police officer and my best friend, has sent me a picture of him and his boyfriend on their vacation in Italy. They're on a gondola in the middle of Venice. Carter's face is red from the Italian sun, and Diego is sticking his tongue out to the camera. Lucky bastards. I would kill to go another vacation, the last one had been when Declan took me to Montana a year and a half ago.
I miss having Carter around. Patrols are extra fucking boring without him.
It's only for a month, I remind myself.
I pull out of the parking lot and head back on patrol, driving up and down the streets. Literally nothing is happening. It's one in the morning, everyone is asleep. I find myself on the street where Gideon and Anthony live and I'm reminded of the text from Dec. I wonder about the new guy. Is he hot? Is he gay? I text Declan back with the response I should have sent earlier. He doesn't respond, not that I expected him to. He's probably asleep.
I find my lips curving up into a smile when I see that Gideon, Anthony and the new guy are sitting on their porch. What would it hurt to stop by Gideon's and check out the new guy? I flip my cherries, the sound of the siren piercing through the stillness of the night, and pull into Gideon's driveway. Gideon and Anthony frown at me, similar looks of annoyance on their faces. The new guy looks startled and a little afraid. I chuckle as I turn off the cruiser and climb out.
“You trying to wake the neighbors, asshole?” Gideon asks.
“Oh, Gideon, don't make me arrest you,” I respond, walking up the path to the porch and resting my foot against the bottom step.
“What could you possibly arrest me for?”
I cock my head to the side with a smile. “Public intoxication.”
Gideon snorts and flips me off. Anthony shakes his head at me like he's an adult dealing with a child.
The new guy relaxes when he realizes that I'm not here on official police business.
Gideon and Anthony are sitting on wicker chairs on the porch near the front door. The front door is open allowing music to flow out from within the house. The new guy is sitting on the top step, a bottle of beer dangling from his fingers.
“How's it going, Lucky?” Anthony asks, bringing a soda bottle to his lips. He's still dressed in navy blue slacks and a white button up even though it's really late. In fact I don't think I have ever seen the man in anything more casual than a fancy sweater and nice black jeans.
“Good, Anthony. Real good.”
I look at the new guy. He really is hot....hotter than I thought he would be. He has floppy dark hair that looks almost black in the dim light of the porch lamp and there's a rolled up red bandana tied around his head. He has brown eyes are the color of chestnuts. His face is angular, and there is a small cleft in the middle of his pointed chin. His bottom lip is full to the point of being pouty and the top lip is thinner. He has several piercings on his face and in his ears. I don't even know the names of some of the piercings he has like the hoop that goes through the ridge near the top of his ear or the stud just below his bottom lip. His sleeves are rolled up showing the compass tattoo he has on his forearm. He's wearing a white long sleeved tee, light wash Levi's that look like they had been worn nearly every day throughout several years; there's a hole in the knee and the bottoms are frayed. On his feet are Converse that have been drawn on with silver marker. A leather jacket is draped over the rail in front of him.
He looks every bit like a rock star chilling in between shows, or like a modern day greaser or something. Whatever his look is, I am nearly drooling over it. There's an electricity in the air between us, drawing all of my attention towards him.
“Hey, man,” the new guy says, looking me over as if he is appreciating what he sees. “I'm Alex Rhodes.”
I clear my throat. “Lucky. Lucky Dickson.”
“Lucky,” Alex repeats. I like the sound of my name on his lips. “It's nice to meet you.”
“We have beer,” Gideon says, forcing me to tear my focus away from Alex. “You want one?”
“Nah. I better not. The chief will have my balls if he found out I was drinking in uniform.”
“We saw Dec tonight,” Anthony offers. I wonder if he's bringing up Declan because he knows that I have been checking out the new guy. Shit, Declan would be doing the same thing if he were here. Most of our friends know that Declan and I have threesomes, but Anthony doesn't know that. “The restaurant was really busy.”
“I know. My man is killing it,” I reply. “I better get home to him. He misses me when I’m not around.”
Gideon and Anthony chuckle. Alex blushes and looks away. I bid the guys good night and get back into my cruiser.
~ ~ ~
I quietly close the door behind me when I get home, knowing Delcan will be asleep. The house smells like freshly baked chocolate chip cookies.
Aw, the benefits of living with a man who loves to cook. I pluck a cookie from the plate and go through the house. A light meow comes from the chair in the living room, but I ignore our cat. I'm still mad that she tried to escape that morning. I drop all my shit on the table in the dining room, and go to lock my gun in the safe in the office before going to mine and Declan's bedroom.
The lights are off and I can hear Declan lightly snoring as I change out of my jeans and shirt and pull on a pair of plaid pajama pants. I climb into bed as quietly as I can, dropping a kiss to Dec's shoulder, smiling as he lightly snuffles in his sleep when my lips meet his skin.
Twenty years and I am still as much in love with Declan at thirty-four as I was at fourteen. I watch the way the moonlight streams across his bronze skin. I push away a piece of his slightly curly hair that has fallen into his eye. This man never ceases to take my breath away.
Declan and I had met freshmen year in high school, and while we didn't officially get together until we were sixteen (Declan likes to remind me of this fact when I tell people that we have been together for twenty years. He says it's only been eighteen years.), I had began to fall in love with Declan when I was fourteen. And he
had felt the same for me. We had started out as friends playing video games and going to each other's' houses after school, but our feelings quickly became more. We were each other's first kiss, first time, first everything, and we have been inseparable since.
“Hey, baby.” Declan's voice is thick with sleep. He rolls over, opening his gigantic, muscular arms to me. “How was your night?”
I roll over to him, pushing my body into his arms, curling my hand over his hip, loving the way our muscular bodies seem to mold together. “Good. I met the new guy.”
“Oh.” Delcan's more awake now. He tightens his arms around me. “What did you think?”
“Fuck, Dec.” That's all I can say. There are no words to describe the jolt of electricity I had felt while standing near Alex Rhodes tonight.
“I know, baby.” He kisses the top of my head. “I know. He's beautiful.”
I don't say anything else because I don't need to. I snuggle deeper into Declan's chest and fall asleep, thinking of the way Declan smells and how right his body feels against mine, and the way Alex kept looking at me while he sat under the porch light tonight.
Declan
Fat Cat, mine and Callum's ornery tabby, keeps meowing from inside her cage. Callum hates when I call her Fat Cat, but I feel like if the name fits wear it. She weighs more than she did on her last vet visit, and I guess part of that is my fault. I need to stop spoiling her with treats. Her belly even swings back and forth when she walks.
The vet smells faintly like animals and lemon cleaner. Emily Price sits behind the counter in scrubs, talking on the phone, scheduling an appointment for someone. When she hangs up and looks at me, she smiles. Emily's a pretty twenty-year-old who looks at lot like her brother Logan. Logan's a teacher at the school and is ten years older than Emily. I have known Logan and Emily since I was twelve.
“How are ya, Declan?”
“Good. I'm here for Fat Cat's appointment.”
Callum would hate it if he knew that I had Gideon and the clinic staff change all of our cat's name to Fat Cat in the system. That's what happens when you send me to all of her appointments. Joke's on you, baby.
Emily stands and comes around the counter and looks in Fat Cat's cage, cooing at my pissed off tabby like she was a baby. Fat Cat meows miserably.
Emily looks up at me with a smile. “Have a seat, Dec. The vet will be right out.”
I turn and sit in the nearly empty waiting room. Only Mrs. Aberny's there, probably waiting for Gideon to bring out her beloved beagle, Roger. Roger's getting old and has to visit the vet frequently. My heart breaks for the Abernys. I don't know what they are going to do when Roger passes. They have had that dog since he was a puppy. Mrs. Aberny loves that dog like he was her child.
We wait in silence—well, as close to silence as you can get with Fat Cat meowing like I took her lucky mouse toy away. I keep cooing at her, hoping to calm her, but to no avail.
“It's okay, my poor girl,” I whisper.
Finally, the door opens and I hear the familiar clink-clink of Roger's collar and footsteps. A tingling starts at the base of my spine as the footsteps come closer and closer. My body feels rigid and hot, like it's overly aware of the person heading our way. I know right away that the person is not Gideon.
“Joan? Roger's ready.”
That voice.
I turn to see Alex standing next to the receptionist's desk, holding Roger's leash and dressed in a white lab coat. The coat is open showing his rolled up blue jeans, and his Def Leppard shirt. His piercings seem to glitter in the fluorescent light of the waiting area. He smiles as Mrs. Aberny comes forward with her cane.
“Oh, Alex! Thank you!”
“Now, remember, Joan. You have to give him his meds. That's why he had that episode. Remind your husband.”
Did he just call Mrs. Aberny Joan. No one calls the Abernys by their first names. The one and only time I had done that Mrs. Aberny had tried to beat me with her purse while she hollered about respecting my elders. I half expect for her to start beating Alex with her cane, but she just nods at his words and dashes at her tears while she takes Roger's leash.
“You are truly wonderful, Alex.”
Alex chuckles. Some weird sensation happens in my gut at the sound of his laughter, something that isn't unpleasant, just unexpected.
As Mrs. Aberny—or Joan—leaves Alex comes towards me. He comes to a stop in front of me, smiling. The cleft on his chin deepens when he smiles. I want to swirl my tongue in that dip in his chin.
Is that weird? That's definitely weird.
“Hello, Declan.” He smiles, and I'm very aware that he's standing very close to me, close enough that if I move my knee just an inch we'll be touching. “I heard your cat's named Fat Cat.”
I'm silent. I just look up into those chestnut eyes. He just continues to look at me, smiling and smelling like sandalwood, ensnaring me with his beauty.
Finally, I find my voice. “That's her nickname.”
“Well, what's her real name? I refuse to call her Fat Cat.”
“Sienna,” I reply. I lick my lips. I can't look away from him. “After Sienna March.”
His eyes widen. “You like Diabolic Divas?”
I chuckle. “You've heard of it?”
That took my by surprise. Not a lot of people have heard of the B-list 80's movie that was about female aliens that come to earth to mate with the human males. It was one of those movies that people either loved or hated. It had a huge cult following despite it's terrible script and even worse special effects. I love it.
“Hell yeah. It's my favorite movie.”
“Mine too. Callum hates when I call her Fat Cat.”
“Callum?” he asks.
“Lucky. I call him Callum.”
Alex's face softens. “That's sweet. You and Sienna want to come on back?”
I nod. I pull Fat Cat's cage from the seat next to me and follow Alex through the clinic.
“Where's Gideon?”
“There was an emergency at the shelter so he called me in.” Alex stops and turns to me. “If you would rather have him—”
“No!” I practically shout, startling both of us. I clear my throat. What the fuck is wrong with me? “No. I was just curious.” Alex nods and turns. I follow. “I didn't know you were a vet.”
“Yeah. Gid was nice enough to hire me on as a part time secondary vet and a part time manager at the no-kill shelter he owns. I owe a lot to him.”
I want to ask what brought him to Glensville, but I don't. We don't know each other well enough to start digging into each other's lives.
Alex leads me into one of the exam rooms and tells me to set Fat Cat's cage on the counter. Then he comes around and opens the cage and coaxes her out. He runs his hands through her fur, all the time talking to her in a soft soothing voice.
“She's slightly overweight,” he says, feeling her belly.
“Hence the nickname.”
He chuckles. “So, who named her Sienna? You or Lucky?”
“Me.” I laugh. “Callum hates anything that's sci-fi related.”
“What? Even the popular movies, like all those superhero and space movies that are out?”
“Every single one.”
He shakes his head. “I don't understand that. I discovered my love for sci-fi when I was young. I watched Diabolic Divas once a week when I was growing up.”
“Same. My mom thought it was because I had a crush on Sienna March, but really it was just an awesome movie.”
“And Chris Newsome knew how to fill out a pair of shiny, alien pants.”
I laugh. “That too. If I had a crush on anyone it was Chris Newsome.”
“I know,” he replies as he continues to look over Fat Cat. “That man was my sexual awakening.”
“Did you know they are making a sequel?”
“I know!” Alex's eyes go really big and he's nearly bouncing on the balls of his feet, which makes me smile. He looks fucking adorable when he's excited. “It c
omes out in six months. I'm bummed it won't be the original cast though.”
“I heard they are bringing back Alice Hanes to reprise her role as General Gall. I'm dragging Callum with me.”
“I'm sure he'll appreciate that.” Alex rubs Fat Cat's fur. “She's okay. She needs to go on a diet, and I'm gonna give her a rabies shot. She's a little behind.”
“Good.” I nod, reaching out and stroking her orange fur. Highly aware that I had put my hand mere inches away from Alex's on her back. I didn't do it on purpose. I don't think.
After a few moments of shooting the shit some more with Alex as we pet Fat Cat, I stuff her back in her cage and follow Alex back to the front.
“Tell Lucky I said hi,” he says when we come to a stop by the counter.
He sticks his hand out for me to shake. Static zaps at my skin when my large hand curves around his slender one. He looks up at me at the contact, his eyes wide again. His beautiful lips parting on a surprised exhale. Electricity dances up my arm, the hairs standing on end. I don't want to walk away from him, but I had to before I did something stupid like kiss him in the middle of his work.
Lucky and I had discussed it. We were on the same page when it came to Alex Rhodes. We wanted him in our bed for a night. And in that moment I decided nothing was going to stop me from making that happen.
Chapter Three
Alex
Why do Lucky and Declan affect me so much? All I have thought about for the past three weeks is them. Lucky with his beautiful red hair that's cut close to his head, his fair skin covered in freckles, and his eyes the color of honey that are framed with the little lines at the corner that show he smiled and laughed a lot. He's on the shorter side—shorter than Declan and I—but there's no doubt in my mind that the contrast in the three of our heights would be perfect. Both Declan and Lucky are broader than me, and I loved that. I always loved men who were bigger than me, both in the terms of musculature and height. And while Lucky's shorter than me, Declan definitely makes up for that with his height. He towers at six-foot-five and is as broad as a building. He oozes sex appeal and authority. The sight of him gives me an instant hard on. I have heard through the grapevine that Declan had once been into MMA—what I wouldn't give to see him in the ring. I bet he was a beast during a fight. I can just picture him being all brutal, commanding, and sexy.
