The Captain was standing in front of Engine number two, the one I drove when the tones dropped. His face was nearly purple with anger.

"Captain?" I asked as I came close enough that I didn't have to yell.

"This is completely unacceptable. I've told you numerous times that this is not a place to jack around. You're getting written up for this!" The Captain snarled, pointing towards something on the front of the engine.

I walked around, and my temper finally got the better of me. "The kids of the first grade elementary cla.s.ses made that. What did you want me to do, throw it away?"

The Captain was taken aback by the vehemence in my voice.

The thing that was so 'unacceptable' was a thank you poster from the children of the local elementary school for teaching them fire safety. Which had saved a little boy's life in the apartment fire I'd worked the night I'd left dinner early with my friends, around a month ago.

"That's not protocol. You cannot have that on the truck. Seconds count when it comes to getting to the scene of a fire or a call. We don't have time to take this s.h.i.t off the window." The Captain tried to save face.

What he was doing was making himself look like a complete a.s.s. Wanting to show him how stupid he sounded, I walked over to the front of the engine where the Thank you poster hung from the Engine's front. It was held in place in between the gla.s.s of the windshield and the windshield wiper.

With a small tug, the poster came free, and I held it up for the Captain's inspection. "I have to come this way to drive the engine, Captain."

The Captain had nothing to say to that, especially in front of the entire fire department, as well as some police officers that were stationed right next door.

I wasn't feeling vindicated though. All I had to do was make it two more weeks, and I'd bring this incident up with the head of the Fire Department. This wasn't going to fly anymore. I'd been dealing with the Captain's s.h.i.t for entirely way too long. It was either going to be me, or the Captain.

By eight thirty, I was on my way to Baylee's, and extremely happy to be away from that place. Sometimes the firehouse reminded me of a soap opera set, and I was glad that I could get some time to myself to ride and clear my head before it was time to meet Baylee for dinner.

When I pulled into her driveway thirty minutes later, I walked up to the front porch and rang her doorbell. When no one came to the door, I started to pull out my phone, but I decided to check in the backyard since she'd said she was going to get some work done in her garden.

With one glance over the fence, I saw her, a.s.s in the air, as she picked what looked like weeds out of the middle of her garden.

Giving a low whistle with my teeth to warn her, I unfastened the latch on the gate and stepped inside.

"Sebastian!" She exclaimed when she saw me entering through the gate.

I returned her smile and walked up until my elbows were leaning against the gate that surrounded the garden and surveyed the spread. "This has really begun to grow. They were tiny little plants when I was here last."

Her smile widened. "I've always had a garden. This one isn't half bad. Next year I think I'll extend it to run the length of the yard. I'll just have to figure out a system that allows the pool water to drain when I need to, but keep it away from the plants. Chlorine will kill it."

I nodded. Watching her work instead of talking.

Today she was wearing blue jean shorts that looked like they used to be jeans, a black t-shirt that said Bulldog Pride on it, and a pair of tennis shoes that looked like they'd been worn for years. Her legs looked magnificent. And I wanted them wrapped around my waist, or over her head, in the worst way.

"Are you ready to go?" I asked her, looking pointedly at the dirt staining her hands and arms.

She snickered, but got up, washed her hands with the water hose and a bottle of soap that was sitting beside the hose. Once done, she gestured, and I followed her inside.

She kicked off her dirty tennis shoes just inside the door, disappeared down the hallway, and came back shortly after in jeans and a pair of cowboy boots. His smile widened when I finally read the shirt she was wearing. 'Sorry, I only ride boys with tattoos.'

"Nice shirt, Baylee." I chuckled.

She smiled wide and tossed a plastic bag towards me. "I got you a shirt, too."

I opened the black bag, dropped it out on the couch once I grasped the t-shirt, and held it up for inspection. "If you can read this, the b.i.t.c.h fell off." I read aloud. "I've always wanted one of these."

I laid the t-shirt over the couch, lifted the cap off my head, grasped the collar of the shirt at the back of my neck, and pulled it over my head. Baylee's inhalation had me glancing at her face, and she watched rapturously as I inadvertently flexed, and then shrugged back into the shirt she bought me.

"How's it look?" I asked as I re-settled my hat back in place.

She looked at me for a few moments and nodded in appreciation. "Hot."

"Where do you want to go eat?" I asked as we both walked towards the front door.

Once out on the front porch, Baylee locked the door with her key, and turned to face the driveway warily.

"This scares me s.h.i.tless." She said eyeing the bike.

I knew it scared her. "We don't have to take it. It's completely up to you."

"I know we don't. But I want to." She breathed as she walked slowly toward my bike.

Motorcycles weren't for everyone. It would be hard not to share one of the biggest parts of myself with Baylee, but I also wouldn't push her. It was entirely up to her if she got on my bike or not.

"Let's do it." She said before swinging her leg over the side of my Harley.

She looked over her shoulder at me, and my breath hitched at the beauty.

Her mid back length hair was in soft curls, haloing her face. The small of her back was showing, and I could just make out the tiniest bit of pink where her jeans gaped slightly on her back. She wasn't wearing any makeup, which I liked, and her mouth was curved in to a knowing smile as she saw the direction of my stare.

"I want to eat at Hooters." She announced.

"Really?" I asked, as I took the black helmet with the pink skull on the side into my hands. I'd picked it up at The Harley Shop on my way home yesterday evening, knowing when I'd seen it that it would be perfect for her. I'd also gotten her a leather jacket, just in case.

"Here. Let's get this on." I instructed as I placed the helmet on her head.

"Where's yours?" She asked as she fastened the strap underneath her chin.

"I don't wear one." I said as I reached into my saddle bag and produced the leather jacket.

She squealed in delight, and I helped her into it as well. Then she sobered when she remembered what I'd just said.

"Why don't you wear a helmet?" She asked with great concern.

"I just don't. Never have. I don't like the way it feels." I told her as I swung my leg over the bike and settled in front of her.

"You really won't like the way it feels when you have your head smashed open or your brain swelling because you didn't wear your helmet." She snapped, making me realize that she didn't like the fact that I didn't wear a helmet.

"You're worried about me?" I asked as I stuck the key into the ignition.

I waited for her answer as I reached behind me to the back of Baylee's thighs and pulled her in snug to my back. Once in the desired position, I took both of her reluctant arms and wrapped them around my torso tight.

"Yes, I don't want you hurt. I really wish you'd wear a helmet." She pleaded.

I hated helmets, but if it made her happy, I'd go get one as soon as I could. "I will as soon as I see a place to get one." I conceded.

"Good." She said and then squealed as the motor revved to life, and evened out with a throaty growl.

Her arms tightened around my chest, and I could feel the antic.i.p.ation quivering through her limbs. Her body was positively plastered to mine, and I gave my own involuntary shiver.

I hadn't had anybody on the back of my bike since the accident that killed Lindsey. Although it wasn't my fault, and I knew it, I still had misgivings about riding double with anybody. h.e.l.l, I'd been that way before Lindsey. The one time I let someone ride on the back of my bike, she'd died.

Baylee mistook my shiver for pleasure, and she laughed before patting my tummy. "Take me for a ride, big boy."

With my heart in my throat, I set off at an extremely sedate pace. My vision sharpened, my hearing became hyperaware. By the time we'd made it out of her neighborhood and onto the main road that would lead us straight to the interstate, my heart was pounding and my palms were sweating; however, not with fear anymore, but with antic.i.p.ation. And, surprisingly, contentment.

Baylee always made me feel differently than other women did. So why wouldn't she help me through my fear of riding double, too?

Instead of taking the actual Interstate, I took the feeder road that ran beside the interstate. Both for her benefit and mine. Even though it added an extra twenty minutes on to the drive.

When we finally pulled up into the Boardwalk's parking lot that would lead us to Hooters, I felt almost languid.

The motor turned off, and it clicked as the heated engine cooled. "Well, how was it?" I asked her, running my palm on the outside of her leg, from a.s.s to knee.

"Umm, it wasn't too bad, to be honest. My heart stopped slamming against my ribs once we reached the feeder road along the interstate. Thanks for taking that way." She expressed, as she finally loosened her arms from around my torso.

"Wasn't only for your benefit, honey. I don't let people ride with me all that often." I said as I stood, swinging my leg off the bike.

More like never, but she didn't need to know that. She might not get back on with me for the ride home.

"Well, thank you anyway." She said, unfastening her helmet and handing it to me.

I took it and offered her my hand. She thanked me again, offered her own hand, and I pulled her gently to help her off. I held on, though, because it was likely her legs resembled jelly at the moment.

I set the helmet on one of the handlebars, pocketed my keys, and wrapped her hand around my bicep.

"Oh, man. My legs feel like they're still vibrating." She laughed as she shook out her long legs.

I kept ahold of her, and guided her through the throng of parked cars to the Boardwalk's entrance. "Have you ever been here before?" I asked.

"Nope. Winter told me I needed to come. I'm not much of a shopper, though. Well, in person at least. I could kill an online sale." She joked as she took in the sights.

"What's that over there?" She asked, indicating the spread of boats across the river.

The Boardwalk was a spread of shops that ran along the Red River. It had a bunch of restaurants, as well as shops. Mostly, it was for the daytime entertainment. The real fun was across the river where the casinos and subsequent riverboats, as well as adult entertainment, was located. The Boardwalk was the sedate, family oriented side compared to the other that saw more of the night action.

"Those are the river boats. The casinos are located in them." I told her.

"Why?" She asked, perplexed.

I led her to the wall that blocked anyone from taking a plunge into the murky depths of the Red River before explaining. "Laws. They didn't want a ton of casinos spread out everywhere. So they allowed them to have a casino on a boat since it kept the casino pretty much dedicated to one area. They'd set sail for a couple hours, and then return to port. Then, over time, they didn't make the boat actually set sail. The boats just became a permanent fixture at the dock, and the bigger hotel parts of the casino were built on the river front, and had a connection leading towards the boat.

"Hmm." She said, pursing her lips. "That must be why they can have them on the reservations back home."

I nodded in confirmation, but didn't say anything.

Baylee looked absolutely beautiful in that moment. Not that she wasn't usually beautiful, only this time it was different. What made this moment different was a mult.i.tude of things. The sun setting at her back made her skin seem to glow. Her hair flying around her from the breeze coming off the river. Her eyes alight with knowledge. Her smile. She looked positively stunning.

In that moment, I was lost. I had to kiss her.

Leaning forward, I captured her lips with my own.

At first, I'd only meant it to be a small kiss. A prelude to things to come. But that didn't factor in with the force that was Baylee.

Baylee's groan, followed by her hands fisting in my t-shirt, made me lose that moderation of decorum I was holding on to so desperately. My own hands fisted into her hair, forcing her mouth to remain against mine as I took her. Because that was what it was: a taking.

My tongue plunged into her mouth, doing what it wanted to do for weeks. The s.e.xy little messages, and the sly glances, as well as the dip in the lake they'd taken two weeks ago was nothing compared to this. And I was doing nothing but kissing her.

Thoroughly.

Her lips tasted like green apples, which I'd figured out when I traced her lips with the tip of my tongue. Her own tongue came out to meet my own, and they tangled in the depths of her mouth.

She sucked my lip into her mouth, and then bit down gently, pulling it with the tips of her bright white teeth.

A crowing teenage boy's shout forced us to disentangle ourselves from each other. Panting from desire, my eyes flicked sideways, and I realized that we'd drawn a crowd. f.u.c.k, there was even one man who was taking a picture with his phone.

"Oops." I said as I turned my eyes back to her.

Her lips were puffy from my mouth's a.s.sault, and her cheeks were flushed. "That's okay. I've wanted that for weeks now. It was worth the wait."

My lips turned up at the side. "You ready to eat?"

She nodded, still panting, and disengaged her body from my own. I pulled her back though.

"I'm gonna need you to walk in front of me for a few. I got a little excited, and that man taking the pictures would probably post a picture of my d.i.c.k on the internet if he saw it right now." I teased.

She gave me a dazzling smile, and took my hand, leading the way to Hooter's. "I've never been to Hooter's. How's the food?"

I snorted. "Their hot wings are delicious."

In all honesty, no one went to Hooter's for their hot wings, no matter who told you they did. They went for the tight shorts, the low cut shirts, and the b.o.o.bs. No if's, and's, or but's. Now, who the h.e.l.l knew why women went. Maybe it was for a comparison. I didn't know. All I knew, was that if my wife or girlfriend worked at Hooter's, they wouldn't be my wife or girlfriend anymore.

I didn't like to share. And looking meant sharing. And particularly not with Baylee.

"Why do you want to go to Hooter's?" I asked as my d.i.c.k finally went down enough for me to walk beside Baylee instead of behind her.

"I want a shirt." She shrugged.

"That's it?" I asked as we reached the door to the fine establishment.

"Yeah, I like tank tops. I bet they have some cute ones." She admitted.

I could understand that. I'd never seen a woman outside of working at Hooter's actually wearing a t-shirt, but h.e.l.l, if she wanted one, she'd get one. I'd make sure of it.