Everything’s going to be fine.
Four
Hollis
Fuck, an ass that nice deserves to be eaten morning, noon, and night. Goddamn…
“Hey, ya fuckin’ perv,” Remi mutters, voice quiet enough that only I can hear him as he nudges me in the arm with his elbow. He’s carrying two stacked plastic totes in his hands, his thick, dark brow arched as he pins me with a look. “More movin’, less checkin’ out my fuckin’ boss, would ya?”
I chuckle. “Not my fault your boss looks like a whole fuckin’ meal in them damn shorts.” As if on cue, Ford drops into a squat to set down the stack of totes he was carrying from his pickup.Who knew plain cotton shorts would do it for me.“I had no idea Captain was carrying around an absolute fuckin’ dump truck under all that gear.”
“Don’t even think about it, man,” he grits out, making it nearly impossible to keep my composure.
“Thinkin’ about what, Rem?” Holding up my handsin front of me innocently, I bite back a smirk trying to break free. “Sheesh, get your mind outta the gutter, would ya.”
Remi’s eyes narrow as he works his jaw, but before he has a chance to say anything, heavy footsteps sound behind us. Turning in that direction, I watch my father saunter into the cabin, wearing his usual scowl. He’s always so damn serious, like cracking a smile might actually kill him. A trait he shares with my stick-in-the-mud brother. Although, I will admit, the latter has loosened up marginally since he had his later-in-life queer awakening and fell into bed—and in love—with his nanny-turned-boyfriend, Ash, last year.
Getting properly dicked down will do that to a man, that’s for damn sure.
“How’s it goin’ in here, fellas?” My dad’s gaze finds mine before sliding over my shoulder toward the back of the cabin as he offers Ford one of those polite yet pinched Southern white people smiles and a nod.
“We’re just ’bout done,” I drawl, deciding to head out to my truck to grab the last of the stuff. This morning has been a piece of cake, mostly because Ford doesn’t have a lot of stuff. Between my rig and his, the three of us were able to get everything in one trip. I barely even broke a sweat.
With the final load in my hands, I’m trudging up the steps toward the cabin when my phone vibrates in my pocket, and that same little dopamine rush I’ve had every time I get a new notification lately rolls through me. I wonder if it’s from my timid Fire Daddy. After the night I found out he was new to the app, he’s been hit or miss.
Flighty, if you will.
We’ve talked almost every day since we matched, but for the last week, there's only been a few messages here and there throughout the day, and the conversation remains firmly in acategory I’ve deemed asFire Daddy safe topics. Small-talk stuff, like how I learned last night he hates Mountain Dew, even Baja Blast—which is fucking criminal, if you ask me—or how I shared with him that my ultimate guilty pleasure is, and always will be, applying one of those sheet masks once a week and watching The Real Housewives. I left out the part where I fix a bowl of popcorn, pour myself a large glass—sometimes two—of Rosé, and slide into my favorite thick, hotel quality robe before crawling into bed, mask on, reruns locked and loaded, surrounded by a plethora of pillows and fuzzy blankets, like I’m wrapped up in my very own comfort cocoon.
I can’t show all my cards yet. Where’s the fun in that?
Regardless, since last week, it’s sufficient to say he’s been drier than Arizona in June. Normally, something like that would have me un-matching and moving on to the next, so it’s interesting that I haven’t done that with this guy yet. In all my twenty-eight glorious years on this planet, I’ve managed to stay far away from all things commitment, emotional attachment, and relationships. With the exception of the one fucked-up period of time as a teenager that resulted in the no attachment, no feelings rule, I don’t have any plans in the foreseeable future to change that. It’s worked for me thus far. Why fix what’s not broken, right? But it’s definitely curious that I haven’t gotten bored and moved on from this guy yet. Knowing me, it’s the challenge of it. It’s been a hot minute since I’ve had to put in any actual effort and practice patience to land a hookup. The thrill of the chase is what I need right now, I suppose.
Whatever the reason may be for my continued interest in the mystery man, opening the notification waiting for me—that may or may not be from him—will have to wait until I’m back at my place later. For now, I’m going to enjoy spending the rest of my afternoon checking out Ford, because eventhough I know I can’t take my best friend’s boss to bed, there’s nothing saying I can’t look. In the span of two weeks, my life went from boring—mundane, even—to well on its way to exhilarating.
I fucking love it.
Back inside, I drop the totes labeled “kitchen” in their respective part of the cabin before grabbing a drink out of the fridge and joining the guys where they’re now sitting in the living room. I plop down on the couch beside Remi, setting my newly opened beer next to his on the table. My dad is sitting in the old recliner in the corner that used to live in our house growing up, his tall, wide build almost too large for the chair, while Ford sits across from us on the chipped brick hearth in front of the wood stove. His arms, corded and dusted in a thick layer of black hair, are propped on top of his knees as the neck of a beer bottle dangles from his fingers.
Good god, this man is a fucking wet dream.
Knowing he’s staying a measly three-minute drive across the ranch from me feels like a smutty gift from the universe. Between seeing him around town growing up and him being present at all the work functions I’ve attended in the past with Remi, I’ve known Ford for quite some time. He’s always been a delicious piece of eye candy, but he’s also been married for as long as I can remember, so I never bothered putting much thought into him. If there’s one thing I don’t make a habit of doing, it’s sticking my dick in somebody else’s marriage. Too goddamn messy to be worth it.
“Thanks again for renting this place to me,” Ford says, gaze fixed on my father.
“Oh, it’s my pleasure. Most of these cabins occupy nothin’ but dust and the occasional mouse in the cooler months. It’ll be nice to make use of this one for a while.”
Ford huffs out a breath, his mouth tipping up in the corner. “Yeah, was startin’ to worry I was gonna be stuck at the firehouse for the rest of my damn life.”
“I believe it.” A gruff chuckle rumbles through my dad’s chest. “You’d think with all that new construction happenin’ out by Lake Everdy, there’d be more options. But apparently, the only thing them new, fancy condos are good for is causin’ traffic from all them lanes constantly bein’ closed. Drivin’ out to the feed store every week is a goddamn nightmare.”
“Ooh-wee, you know I love it when ya get all fired up, Daddy Moore,” Remi drawls beside me.
My dad’s jaw pops as his gaze slices over to my dumbass best friend. “I’ve told you to stop callin’ me that,” he grits out.
I roll my eyes and breathe out a dry laugh, swiping my beer off the table and taking a swig. Remi’s been vocal about his little crush—or whatever the hell he wants to call it—on my father since we were teenagers. And he’s not the only one. I lost count of how many girls in high school fawned over the “tall, mysterious rancher”—their words, not mine—any time he’d pick me up from school or during the annual field trip out to our ranch, so I’m more than used to it, but that doesn’t make it any less fucking weird to hear, especially from my best friend.
I’m not fully convinced he doesn’t do it as payback for the time I fucked his boss during our senior year when he worked at the hardware store in town. It’s not my fault Little Miss Home From College And Looking To Piss Off Daddy couldn’t understand the meaning ofcasualand got her feelings hurt. She took it out on Remi’s schedule when I ended our arrangement after she drunkenly professed her love to me before hurling all over my new boots. The goddamn Red Wing’s I hustled all summer to pay for. That was one of the few timesRemi and I really got into it, and I know it’s why he gets pissy when I talk about how hot Ford is.
