Gunnar's Guardian

by Pandora Pine

  I saw a different side of Gunnar that morning. I grudgingly came to admit that it wasn’t his fault that he’d never learned to make a meal, set a table, or wash dishes. The problem with getting to know the new and improved Gunnar was that he made me want to fuck him that much more.

  “Okay, everyone! Chow time!” Ozzy called out to the entire firehouse.

  Ozzy’s booming voice startled me out of my own thoughts. Before I knew what was happening, the other firefighters and EMTs filled the room, taking seats at the long table. The head of the table and the seat next to me were left open. I knew Ozzy sat at the front, which meant Gunnar would be next to me. It was the last thing I needed with my dick half hard in my pants.

  When everyone was seated, Ozzy and Gunnar started bringing the food to the table. We’d always eaten family-style at home. My brother had continued that tradition at the firehouse which was his second home.

  “I know everyone is starving. I’ve been listening to Kennedy’s stomach grumble for the last hour.” The table erupted in laughter. “But, before we eat, I want you all to give it up for Gunnar Prince, who I met when he set his house on fire cooking a hamburger.” Ozzy snickered and elbowed Gunnar, who was laughing too. “He did a hell of a job in his first week here and only managed to cut himself once with the potato peeler.”

  “Gunnar!” The table chorused. Polished boots stomped the floor.

  I couldn’t help noticing the way Hal Rossi looked at him. Ozzy had a point when he said the young EMT had the hots for my boy. Not my boy. My neighbor. Yeah, my neighbor. And if that were truly the case, my dick wouldn’t be digging into my stomach.

  “Thanks everyone for making me feel like I’m part of your family,” Gunnar’s eyes had gone glassy as he looked around the table.

  “Let’s eat!” Ozzy announced, sitting down at the table. It was obvious he was giving the kid the opportunity to regain his composure. I knew him, chances were that he’d had a longer speech planned out.

  The cornbread was in front of me. I grabbed a piece and set one on Gunnar’s plate before passing it to Ozzy who shot me a knowing look.

  Ten minutes later, everyone was eating and talking with the people sitting close to them. I’d been to so many of these Sunday dinners that it felt old hat to me, but I knew how exciting this must be for Gunnar. Not only had he been invited here on his day off, but he’d gotten to cook with the captain, which was a bigger honor than he knew. Ozzy didn’t let many people into his kitchen.

  “Damn, this is the best thing I’ve put in my mouth since Kennedy…” Gunnar’s mouth slammed shut with an audible click of his teeth.

  “Since Kennedy, what?” Hal leaned toward Gunnar, his eyelashes fluttering.

  “Since I dropped off lunch from China Jade yesterday.” Christ, that was close. I knew exactly what Gunnar had been about to say. The ribs were the best thing he’d tasted since I’d forced my tongue down his throat.

  “Yeah, the beef and broccoli plate was amazing. The Chinese place we used to go to in Rockport sucked, but this food was off the hook. Crispy Rangoon and tender…meat.” Gunnar wore a miserable look on his face.

  “There’s nothing better than tender and juicy meat in your mouth.” Hal seductively licked barbeque sauce off his finger.

  Motherfucker. Christ, if this kept up, the EMT was going to be fucking my boy in no time flat.

  “When do I get to go on a ride along?” Gunnar asked after Chasten handed him the platter of ribs for a second helping.

  Ozzy’s face morphed into a devious grin. I knew exactly what that smile meant: be careful what you wish for. “You want to go on a ride along, Noob? I think we can arrange that.”

  Hal Rossi started to snicker. Looking around the table, the others were hiding smiles behind their hands.

  “Okay, what does that mean?” Gunnar’s head swung around like it was on a swivel. His dizzy gaze finally landed on me. “Kennedy?”

  “I don’t know what that means.” I shot Ozzy a what-the-fuck look, but all he did was continue to laugh. “When we do ride alongs at the GPD we get assigned traffic stops or meter patrol. Simple things that don’t usually put the civilian in harm’s way.” It didn’t always work out that way, but that was our aim.

  “You’re not a member of the Gloucester Police Department, you belong to Firehouse Three. Now, either you mean what you said about coming with us on a call or you didn’t.” Ozzy grabbed the meat platter from me. I managed to grab another rib with my fork as he pulled it away.

  Gunnar sat up straighter. “I meant what I said.” The earlier insecurity in him was gone.

  I was going to have a conversation with my brother about what this ride along included. Since Gunnar wasn’t licensed by the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, he couldn’t handle the equipment or drive the engines. The last thing I’d accuse my brother of was hazing, but at the same time, I didn’t want anything to come between Gunnar and the new family he was building. Ozzy should know that better than anyone.

  “Hal, tell him about your first ride along.” Ozzy was back to wearing that shit-eating grin.

  At least if he was asking Hal to tell the story, it couldn’t be all that bad. From everything I knew about him, he got along well with everyone at the firehouse and had a close relationship with Ozzy. According to my brother, he wouldn’t be surprised if Hal was promoted to captain within the next five years.

  “It was wild, that was for sure.” Hal burst out laughing with the others.

  “Define wild.” I wasn’t in the mood to mince words.

  Hal opened his mouth to answer when his stomach gurgled loudly. His face twisted into a grimace and he slapped his hand over his mouth. It didn’t help. His cheeks bulged like a chipmunk and before he could get out of his seat, Hal started to spray puree through his fingers.

  Looking around the table I could see a few other firefighters looking a bit green. I didn’t think it was from seeing Hal lose his lunch. Firefighters and EMTs were used to this kind of thing. Someone gagged and sprinted away from the table.

  What the hell was going on here. One by one, members of Firehouse Three sprinted from the table.

  Holy shit, had Gunnar given the entire firehouse food poisoning?

  14

  Gunnar

  It didn’t stop with Hal losing his lunch. Chasten was next and then Ozzy. Several of the other firefighters wandered away from the table with sour looks on their faces. My mother had always been a sympathetic barfer. If she so much as heard someone gag or smelled regurgitated chum, she would blow chunks too.

  This was a disaster. I’d never seen anything like this before. I watched as one brother after another got sick. Some scrambled to the restroom downstairs, while others ran to the toilets in the bunkhouse. I’d even seen a few of the guys run into the ladies’ room.

  The only two people left standing at the end were me and Kennedy. He was wearing a look on his face that was somewhere between shock and awe. “Um, Kennedy, what do I do now?” I had no idea what was going on, much less what to do next. The entire firehouse, with the exception of me, was puking their guts out. If the sounds coming from the bunkhouse were any indication, it seemed that a new symptom had entered the playing field. I could hear the men throwing and going, as the saying went.

  “If I were you, I’d run,” Kennedy said simply, getting out of his seat. His gaze was directed at his feet. Ozzy had left a slurry trail as he’d run for the closest toilet.

  “Run? I don’t understand.” I was more confused than ever, unless Kennedy meant that he wanted me to get out, so I didn’t catch this bug too. The rough tone in his voice indicated otherwise.

  “Kid, you just poisoned the entire firehouse. Hell, I’m not even sure what the protocol is here. If that alarm bell goes off right now, no one is available to go to the call.” Kennedy pivoted around in a neat circle. He looked overwhelmed by the situation. “I need to call the fire chief and see what can be done.”

  “Now hold on just one minute!” I shouted at
Kennedy’s retreating figure. “I didn’t poison anyone.” At least I didn’t think I did. Terror like I’d never known in my life gripped me. What if Kennedy was right? What if I did this? An hour ago, Ozzy was calling me a member of the family and now he was bowing to the porcelain god. What the hell had I done?

  “Start cleaning this up. Put on gloves. Throw all the food away. After that, mop up the puke.” Kennedy grimaced, before giving his head a shake. “Fill a bucket with disinfectant and water. Do not mix ammonia and bleach. Wash every surface, under surfaces too.” With that, Kennedy wandered off into the bunkhouse.

  Jesus fucking Christ. The room looked like a warzone. To my right was Hal’s mess. When Chasten had gotten up from the table, he’d knocked the bowl of coleslaw to the floor. It had shattered the glass and sent soggy cabbage and carrots flying in all directions. Kennedy had been right about the trail of breadcrumbs Ozzy had left.

  In that moment, all I wanted to do was cry. I was overwhelmed and scared, with no idea of what I should tackle first. From where I was standing, I could hear Kennedy speaking, probably to the fire chief. Oh my God, was I really responsible for this?

  There wasn’t time to think about the ramifications of today. I was certain a shit storm was coming my way, but right now, I needed to clean up this room and do whatever I could to help the firehouse.

  I figured the best place to start was with the floor. It sounded like Kennedy was calling out the troops so the floor needed to be clean for the people who might be running in or out. As quickly as I could, I snapped on a pair of gloves and grabbed the bucket I used to wash the engines. While it was filling up, it gave me a few minutes to figure out just how the hell to clean up puke. I gagged in my mouth just thinking about it. There would be time to sympathy puke later.

  Thankfully there was no mess downstairs, but I did use my disinfectant bucket to wipe down the handrail leading to the second floor. Once I was back upstairs, I started with the coleslaw, locating the broken pieces of the bowl and using a sponge and the dustpan to clean it up.

  Moving around the other side of the table, I contemplated Hal’s mess. I felt so bad for the young EMT. He’d been nothing but kind to me and I may have killed him. I took a deep breath and got to work. Ten minutes later, the floor was clean.

  “Gunnar?” a familiar female voice called up the stairs.

  Thank Christ the cavalry was here. I would know that voice anywhere. It was Mandy McCoy. “In the kitchen,” I called back.

  I wasn’t prepared for what came up the stairs. Mandy was wearing a pair of bright yellow kitchen gloves and carrying bags from Target. “Are you okay?” She rushed to me, stopping a few feet shy of me and seemed to be looking me over.

  “Yeah, but the others.” I felt my emotions rising to the top again.

  Without hesitation, Mandy closed the distance between us and hugged me close.

  “Ah, Jesus, Mom. You’re hugging the enemy,” Kennedy said from the bunkhouse door.

  “The enemy? What is wrong with you?” Mandy sounded angry.

  Kennedy point an accusatory finger at me. “Gunnar was the one who cooked for everyone today.”

  “So then why isn’t he sick too?” Mandy released me and took aim at her son. “Why aren’t you sick? Don’t you dare tell me you sat at the table and watched everyone else eat. I know you better than that.”

  Kennedy’s cheeks colored. “No, Gunnar isn’t sick. Neither am I.” His tone indicated he hadn’t given a second thought to that fact before his mother brought it up. “I did eat the ribs. They were top-notch until…” Kennedy left the rest of that thought unsaid.

  “Until you were at ground zero of a barf-o-rama?” Mandy’s eyes glittered with amusement.

  Kennedy grimaced. “Yeah, something like that.”

  “Were you here yesterday?” Mandy asked me. “Did you have contact with Ozzy or any of the other firefighters or EMTs?”

  “No. My last shift was Friday and I spent yesterday catching up on my sleep.” I chanced a look at Kennedy. He wore a serious look on his face, but he didn’t look angry anymore.

  “Shame on you, Kennedy, for making this poor boy feel like he’s to blame for this. Stomach bug symptoms usually start showing up twelve to twenty-four hours after coming in contact with the virus. Since neither of you were here yesterday, it makes sense you’re both still standing.” She winked at me before turning back to Kennedy. “Now, get out of here. Your father and I will take care of everyone else and we’ll be here when the chief shows up. If he shows up.” Mandy grimaced. “I’ve never met a man in my life with as sensitive a stomach as Chief Higgins. Both of you. Out.”

  “I’ll go as soon as I’ve cleaned this mess up.” The rest of the food still needed to be thrown away and the dishes, pots and pans needed scrubbing.

  “David and I will take care of everything. Now scoot.” She set a gloved hand against my face. “If you need anything, you call us. Got it?” I managed a weak nod. Much more than that and I would be sobbing. There was no way I could thank her enough for everything she’d done for me today. “Tell Ozzy I hope he feels better.”

  “You’ll tell him yourself when you come back to work.” Mandy’s voice was sweet, but she’d leveled an angry look at Kennedy.

  No one had to tell me twice to leave. I gave Mandy one last smile and booked it down the stairs like I’d stolen something.

  Today had been the most perfect day of my life. Until the barf-o-rama.

  15

  Kennedy

  Several hours later I felt sick to my stomach. Not because I was coming down with whatever had wiped out Ozzy and the firehouse, but because I’d been such a dick to Gunnar.

  Mom had insisted I go home so that I wouldn’t come in contact with whatever it was making them so sick, but the damage was done. I’d been there for the better part of five hours. Chances were pretty high that I had touched a contaminated surface and there was the hug Ozzy gave me that lasted at least thirty seconds. He’d also whispered in my ear. I figured I was fucked either way. It wouldn’t hurt for me to stick around and give my parents a hand while I was still upright and didn’t have my head in the toilet.

  Chief Higgins closed Firehouse Three until the contagion was under control. Who the hell used words like contagion? He didn’t want anyone who’d been in the firehouse to come in contact with the other three houses in town. It was bad timing with an arsonist on the loose. The rest of the department would pull together and get things done. This was their city. They’d protect it at all costs.

  Everyone, with the exception of Ozzy, had gotten home safely. He’d insisted on staying at the firehouse. It hadn’t been unmanned since it had been opened in February of 1941. The house had stayed manned through the bombing of Pearl Harbor ten months later, through dozens of hurricanes, and on America’s darkest day, September 11th. Ozzy wasn’t about to let the stomach bug end seventy-nine years of tradition.

  I’d been torn between staying with my stubborn-ass brother or going home to check on to my stubborn-ass neighbor. How the hell had I ended up surrounded by so many mule-headed asshats? That wasn’t a question I wanted to delve into very deeply. I had a feeling I was the lowest common denominator in the equation.

  Ozzy assured me that he was going to be fine. Since he was the only person staying at the firehouse, he wouldn’t have to share the bathroom with anyone. I’d finally left when he promised to call me if he thought he needed to be taken to the ER. He may have also mentioned a time or two that Gunnar would be all alone if I stayed at the firehouse with him.

  Driving home, I started thinking about the apology I owed Gunnar. I’d come right out and accused him of poisoning the entire firehouse. Shit, what a complete and total asshole I’d been to him. I think part of the reason for my dickery had to do with the fact that I was attracted to this boy and I didn’t want to be.

  I was single. Happily single. There was no need to upset my carefully stacked applecart with a boy who was practically half my age. Okay, maybe I wa
s exaggerating a tiny bit. He was twenty-one and I was thirty. But there was the fact that he’d grown up with a platinum spoon in his mouth. In my book growing up like that made Gunnar younger than his years. At least that’s what I kept telling myself. I think it had to do with him never having dealt with hard times or strife the way I had.

  In a way, that made me sound like an elitist tragedy asshole. No one’s childhood could have possibly been worse than my own. Of course, what Ozzy and Dallas went through came pretty damn close. Regardless of how Gunnar’s life had gone, he’d never seen his mother’s murdered body, he’d never been beaten and scarred for life by his father, and he hadn’t been left alone for days at a time while his mother whored herself for drugs, like my brothers and I had.

  Thinking that way made me feel sick to my stomach. I guess I wasn’t fit for human company tonight. Or any night, really. If I was being completely honest with myself that was the reason I was single. My mother couldn’t live without a man. I’d be damned if I was going to follow in her footsteps. I’d rather be alone than be with a man who’d treat me the way her boyfriends treated her.

  I was being completely over the top in the drama department. It was the only place in my life where the terror of my childhood poked through the carefully crafted man I’d become. I’d only ever been to therapy, as an adult, when the police department mandated it. We’d lost a colleague in the line of duty three years ago. I wasn’t a stupid man. I knew what to say when the inevitable comparison to my mother came up in the course of that session.

  I wasn’t stupid and I wasn’t primed to be the victim either. I’d started working out early. Ozzy and Dallas had been quick to join me. We never said the words out loud to each other, but I knew we were all bulking up so no one could ever hurt us again.

  That’s also one of the reasons I became a cop. When you were six foot, 3 inches tall and carried a gun for a living, there weren’t many people who wanted to fuck with me, professionally at least.