Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25884 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 104(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25884 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 104(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
Henry chuckles as he watches it a few more times. I’m just staring out the window, wondering what Mr. Hot Fire Chief is up to at this moment. I can’t believe I have a date with him. I can’t believe he’s into me.
Where is he going to take me? What am I going to wear?
It’s been so long since I’ve been on a date. I don’t even remember the protocols. Do I meet him there? Does he pick me up? Who pays? Do we split the check? The more I think about it, the more I’m starting to freak out.
And this slow-ass night isn’t helping. I have nothing to do but watch cat videos on Henry’s phone and let my mind race.
I stretch out my legs as I look around the dark town. It’s two in the morning, and I haven’t seen anyone in hours. I swear this whole town has a ten PM bedtime.
It’s so different from Chicago. The nights out there would fly by. Sometimes I wouldn’t even have time to go to the bathroom. I’d blink and my shift was over.
We’d be racing around town, constantly dealing with one emergency after another. A car crash, a robbery, a fight, a mugging—sometimes all within the same hour. It was non-stop.
I never had to fire my gun in the seven years I was on the force over there, but I did get physical many times. No criminal I’ve ever met wants to be put into handcuffs and they make you work for it.
“Check this one out,” Henry says, chuckling as he shows me a close-up video of a cat smacking its owner’s head.
I sigh as I glance at the clock. Four hours to go. This is brutal. I wanted something a little quieter than Chicago, but not this dead. I did enjoy the occasional adrenaline rush from time to time.
“Can we put the phone away?” I ask with a sigh.
This man has an insatiable appetite for cat videos. It’s a little much.
“Sure,” he says, turning his phone off. “Want to play word association?”
“Not really,” I say as I look out the window. All I’m thinking about is Graham. Henry can say any word he wants and I’ll associate it back to the hot fire chief.
Drink. Graham’s rippling six pack.
Donkey. Graham’s muscular ass.
Banana. Graham’s big thick cock.
“How’s the pool installation going?” I ask, trying to steer the conversation away from anything sexual.
It doesn’t work. Now I’m thinking of a shirtless Graham stepping out of a pool in slow motion, water droplets sliding down his muscular chest.
“These guys are so incompetent,” Henry says, shaking his head. “They did a shit job of leveling the soil and now…”
He goes on, but I tune him out. My mind goes right back to Graham and our date. What can I wear?
I never know what to wear on dates. I don’t really look good in dresses. My frame is too broad and blocky. I always feel so uncomfortable in them. They make my shoulders and arms look massive. My aunt says I should stop lifting such heavy weights, but when your job (and your life) can depend on it, it’s hard not to. Plus, I love lifting heavy.
“Are you even listening?” Henry says, stopping his story.
“Yeah,” I say, nodding enthusiastically.
“What did I just say?”
“You were talking about the pool.”
“What about the pool?”
I stare at him with my eyebrows up. I got nothing.
“I’m watching my cat videos again,” he says, looking annoyed as he turns on his phone.
“No,” I say, unable to take it anymore. It’s been three hours of cat videos. A woman can only take so much. “Sorry, I’m just a little distracted.”
“About what?”
I take a deep breath. “Nothing really.”
“Yeah, right,” he says with a chuckle. “Is it about Chief West?”
I whip my head around and look at him in shock. “How did you know?”
“The whole town knows,” he says with a laugh. “You guys were practically making out on the pitcher’s mound.”
“We were not!” I say as my cheeks start burning.
“What’s going on between you two?”
“Nothing,” I say, way too fast.
Henry frowns at me. “Come on, Cara.”
“What?”
“We’ve been sitting here for eight hours a night for three weeks talking about our favorite Golden Girls episodes and arguing about the best kind of potato chip and now you finally got something good to say and you’re holding out on me? No way. Give me the tea.”
“The tea?”
“The tea.”
I take a deep breath and exhale long and hard. “Fine. We’re going out tomorrow.”
“On a date?”
“Yeah. Do you know him?”
“Everyone knows Graham,” he says with a shrug. “He’s never been married, but lots of women have tried. We all kind of wondered what his type was.”
“You never found out?”
He looks me up and down in my uniform and smiles. “I guess we found out today.”
The radio crackles on and the dispatcher’s voice fills the car.