Just This Once (The Kings)

I pressed the heel of my hand into my chest, willing the ache to let up. I was shocked to barge into a classroom for a medical emergency call only to find the woman I had been obsessing over gaping back at me.noveldrama

Thankfully I stared for only a fraction of a second too long before instinct took over.

“It’s always the worst when it’s a kid.” Lee Sullivan stared out the windshield of the ambulance.

I dropped my hand. “Yeah.”

Lee and I were on opposite sides of the King–Sullivan feud, but when it came to work, it was the job that mattered. We typically saved our petty bullshit for the break room or outside of work. Plus, fucking with him held slightly less appeal now that I knew my sister would have my ass if we took it too far. Still, it hadn’t kept me from gift wrapping Duke Sullivan’s entire truck with dinosaur paper in honor of my nephew’s impending birthday.

I chuckled quietly to myself. Our town flashed past the truck as we rolled down the road back to the station.

“What tickled your pickle, Bill?” Lee Sullivan gave me the side-eye from the passenger seat.

I clenched my teeth, knowing full well that if Lee knew I was behind the prank against his brother, he’d make it his personal mission to exact revenge. “Nothing—just remembering how funny it was to see you like a turtle on its shell when you slipped in that puddle.”

During a house fire a few months ago, Lee was stripping siding off the building when he lost his balance and fell backward into a shallow koi pond. The weight of his air tank had made it so he couldn’t roll himself over. He’d been stuck, like a turtle on its shell, moving his arms and legs and rolling around trying to right himself.

“Fuck off. You know those air tanks are heavy as shit, and it’s not my fault the mud was too slick for me to flip over. You could have helped sooner, you know.”

I grinned at the mental image of cocky Lee Sullivan stuck on his back, arms and legs moving in a desperate attempt to flip himself over. I watched and laughed for a good five minutes before hauling him up and out of that shallow puddle.

We drove through our small town, returning waves and smiles as we passed. Lee grinned and basked in the attention. In another town—another life—Lee and I might have been friends, but given who my father was and our family’s history, there was little chance that would ever happen.

Too drained to continue our typical banter, I stayed quiet as I drove the ambulance the rest of the way to the station.

In our small town, the men and women on my team were trained as both firefighters and EMTs, and there were perks to serving my hometown—free coffee and congratulatory handshakes, kind smiles while waiting in line at the grocery store—but it also meant the people who needed your help would be family, friends, or neighbors. Every call carried the weight of knowing you could be arriving on the worst day of their life for someone you loved.

Once the fire truck and ambulance were parked, the team got to work restocking supplies and cleaning up. Back at the station I spent time preparing lunch for the crew and willing myself not to think about the soft shudders of Emily’s breath as she came on my fingers or the pliant curve of her hips.

I dragged a hand down my face and sighed. Damn it.

The reality was she had consumed my thoughts for the past two months. Emily and I had danced and laughed and had what I thought was the most incredible accidental date of my life before she panicked and bolted out the door.

What the hell had I done wrong?

I went over every moment I could recall from the general store to the Grudge, to the hours tangled in my sheets, trying to find the exact moment I fucked it up. Despite my obsession with figuring it out, I couldn’t pinpoint what it was about me and our night together that had sent her running.

Not even her hurried exit or the high five kept me from attempting to track her down. Despite her insistence she wasn’t a librarian, I still made calls to nearby libraries and searched their websites, seeing if anyone named Emily was on staff. Of course, I had come up empty. I tried to ask around without raising too many questions, but in a tourist town, it proved impossible.

It wasn’t until I came face-to-face with her that a tiny spark of hope ignited. The woman had disappeared like an echo on the wind, but somehow she was back in Outtatowner and teaching junior high.

Not a librarian.

I should have known. The shock on her face made it clear she had recognized me, but my gut told me she wasn’t all that happy about it, so I didn’t press the issue. I probably should leave well enough alone, but her immediate about-face rejection gnawed at me. Normally I was the first to bail when things started getting serious, so it was a blow to the ego for her to beat me to it.

Afterward, I had sat on my bed and felt so . . . used.

“William.” Chief Martin’s voice shook me from my thoughts, and I tossed aside the kitchen towel. “My office. Now.”

“Yes, sir.”

I followed behind my chief toward the row of offices in the fire station. Lee lifted his chin in my direction, and I flipped him my middle finger, earning a grin from him.

When we entered, Chief Joseph Martin stood behind his desk. He was on the shorter side, stocky yet strong, with white strands lightening his auburn hair. Chief was the kind of dude who took care of himself, even working out during our shifts if he had the time. He was a man who demanded the best from his crew, but never asked someone to do a job he wasn’t willing to do himself. “Close the door, son.”

I turned, ignoring the hot poker that jabbed my ribs anytime he called me that.

“I debriefed with Captain Jones about the call at the junior high today. I was glad to hear everything went smoothly.”

I nodded. “Yes, sir.”

His assessing eyes rolled over me, and I straightened, unwilling to let him see me squirm under his gaze.

“Jones said you took the lead, stayed levelheaded. That’s not easy when children are involved, but that’s exactly the kind of leadership we need in a lieutenant.”

Quiet buzzing filled my head.

“Truth is, you’re not getting any younger,” Chief continued. “But you have a real future here . . . if you want it.”

My insides went tight. Did I want it? Moving up in the ranks would be so fucking satisfying, but every time I thought about it, visions of my father’s own social climbing tainted the very idea. Having a son as a lieutenant would be the exact type of thing Russell King would exploit to his advantage.

I sat up. “I hadn’t really considered it, sir.”

Chief laughed. “Well, you should. My advice? Keep your head down. Don’t let things like petty family rivalries or women distract you from what’s important. Too many in our unit forget what’s really important—they get caught up in the attention and ass-patting that comes along with the job. Stay focused and the promotion is as good as yours.”

Having the respect of someone I held in high regard was unnerving. Why the hell would he be considering me?

I learned a long time ago that anytime I get my hopes up, people let me down. Still, I knew arguing with my chief was pointless. “Thank you, sir.”

Chief tossed his pen onto the desk. “Very well. Now get out of here.”

With a grin and a jaunty salute, I turned on my heels and headed back to finish preparing lunch.

Stay focused and the promotion is as good as yours.

For the first time in what felt like forever, hope for something better bloomed in my chest.

I tugged at the too-tight collar of my shirt. Standing in the banquet hall, the shiny black shoes of my Class A dress uniform pinched my toes.

The Outtatowner Emergency Services annual awards banquet was an excuse for everyone in our department to get together and celebrate our achievements for the year. Awards included firefighter of the year, meritorious awards, and Chief’s Company—a hand-selected group of men and women received this honorary title as a reflection of exemplary service and reflected who Chief Martin would want in his company. These were the people our chief considered the best of the best.

The most coveted award, however, was saved for last.

A few years ago, my fellow firefighter Connor had been thrift shopping with his on-again, off-again girlfriend when he came across a replica of the marble Hercules and Diomedes statue. An homage to Hercules’s strength and masculinity, the Italian statue portrayed Hercules wrestling with Diomedes and besting him . . . all while Diomedes is tugging on his dick.

The coveted Dipshit Award was reserved for someone who did a stupid thing that year. We all kept a running tally of humorous things that happened throughout the year. The caveat was that if you were a recipient of the award, you had to have the vulgar statue displayed prominently in your home.

The award itself added a bit of levity to an otherwise stressful career. While no one ever wanted to mess up on a call, knowing you had your unit behind you, rallying for you to shake it off, always helped.

You better believe Lee Sullivan’s name was nominated more than once. I wasted no time and took great pleasure in nominating him for the Dipshit Award after the turtle-tank incident. Sure, I could have helped, but instead I laughed and, later that day, wrote his name in for the award.

“You look like you’re about to crawl out of your skin. Relax and have a beer, dude.” Connor stood next to me, handing me a beer and surveying the room. He was more of Lee’s buddy, and I didn’t have the energy to socialize tonight. He looked completely at ease in his dress uniform, his dark-blond hair cropped short and one hand casually draped in a pocket.

I shifted in my shoes. “Class A’s are not my favorite.”

He grinned. “Yeah, but the ladies love them.” Connor tipped his chin, and my gaze shifted in that direction. Across the banquet hall, two women leaned in, whispering to one another, while shooting sidelong, hopeful glances in our direction.

The banquet was for firefighters and their families. I’d never extended an invitation to my family for fear my father would use it as an opportunity to deepen his connections in town. Plus, I never dated anyone long enough to warrant an invite either.

I eyed the women again. I was also careful to never shit where I ate. “They’re all yours, man. I’m good right here.”

I took a long pull from the beer bottle.

“You’re missing out, bro.” Connor chuckled. “There’s something to be said about a woman who understands shift work and the demands of the job. There’s no explaining or apologizing for being gone for long stretches of time.”

I shrugged, accepting the truth of his statement. “I guess.”

Connor bumped his shoulder into mine. “But I’m feeling spicy tonight. I think I’m going to hit on the chief’s daughter.”

My face twisted. “Chief Martin’s daughter is like twelve.” I knew this for a fact given the prominent school picture displayed in his office of a young, braces-clad girl deep in the throes of her awkward preteen years.

Connor turned to me. “Dude, what the fuck are you talking about? Chief Martin’s daughter is a smoke show.”

He gestured with his beer bottle across the hall toward Chief Martin, standing proudly next to his wife, conversing and shaking hands with a semicircle of people. As the crowd shifted, Connor’s voice faded to a dull echo in the background as the whoosh of blood hammered in my skull after I spotted Emily. Her navy satin dress clung to her hips. Thin straps dipped into a neckline that draped below her collarbone in a way that was tasteful, yet subtly sexy.

“I heard she moved from Virginia. The rumor is she’s nursing a broken heart, and I am not above helping her nurse those wounds, if you know what I mean.”

From her gaze on the floor, Emily’s smoky eyes shifted as a smile bloomed across her face.

“Goddamn she’s pretty.” Connor chuckled beside me.

I cast him an angry glare. “That’s the chief’s daughter. Have some fucking respect.”

I had disrespected her enough for the both of us. Many, many times as the clench of her inner walls milked my cock.

Connor laughed off my pissy mood, and his chuckle grated on my nerves.

How in the hell was Emily Chief Martin’s daughter?

Then it dawned on me—the way her gaze swept over my open closet only moments before she was pulling her floral dress back over her head and running out of my house like she couldn’t get away fast enough.

She knew.

She fucking knew.

She could have said something then—explained why hooking up was a bad idea, and I would have agreed with her.

Probably.

Instead I spent weeks beating myself up over moving too quickly with a girl who had seemed to be plucked from my fantasies. I’d spent sleepless nights trying to figure out how I’d managed to fuck it up so quickly.

Typically women stuck around long enough to realize a King wasn’t worth the trouble before they bolted, but Emily hadn’t lasted even that long before she’d had her fill of me.

I drained my beer in two deep swallows. “I need something stronger.”

I didn’t wait for Connor’s response before stomping toward the bar. The lanky bartender greeted me with a tip of his chin.

“Whiskey, neat.” I rested an elbow on the bar and turned back toward the crowd.

Emily was still by her father, laughing and enjoying the conversation as it flowed around her. Her features were animated as she gestured. The entire clutch of people hung on her every word. She was radiant and alluring, and it pissed me right the fuck off.

After the bartender slid my whiskey across the counter, I deposited a generous tip into his jar. I planned to have a few more and wouldn’t mind the preferential treatment a decent tip would earn me. The first sip of whiskey burned down my throat and warmed my gut.

I knew my stare was dark and intense, but I didn’t care. I wanted her to see me.

As if she could hear my thoughts, her pretty eyes shifted and locked with mine. Shock flickered over her delicate features, but in a moment it was gone.

Emily leaned in, whispering something to Mrs. Martin before excusing herself from the group with a small smile. I stayed planted where I was, letting her come to me. She ignored me as she stood at the bar and ordered a white wine. She thanked the bartender with a genuine smile, dropping her own generous tip into his jar, and turned to face the banquet room.

With a tight smile locked in place, she gently cleared her throat. “Um . . . hello.”

I scoffed and decided to fuck with her. “Is that— Is that a ghost?” I stood tall and let my gaze go unfocused as I looked over her head. “Speak, apparition.”

An exasperated grunt pushed through her lips. “Really? Quoting kids’ movies? Stop being ridiculous.”

Irked that she caught my Megamind reference so easily, I turned my back to her.

She cleared her throat more aggressively this time and gritted through her teeth, “I’m surprised to see you here.”

I shook my head, taking a generous sip of my whiskey before turning to face her. “Bet you’re not as surprised as I was.” I drained the remainder of my whiskey and signaled the bartender for another.

Emily’s eyebrows lifted. “I don’t know what you are so pissy about. You came into my classroom and didn’t even remember me.”

Remember her? I had obsessed over her for weeks, but I wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction of admitting that.

“Would you have rather I ignored the emergency medical needs of a sick child and struck up a conversation with you instead?”

A disgusted noise rattled from her pretty throat as she rolled her eyes. “Of course not, but I saw your face. You had no idea who I was.”

A disbelieving hum was my only response. I wanted to let it go, but I couldn’t.

“So when did you know?” Irritation simmered just below the surface. “When you stared into the tattoo shop and saw me for the first time? Or maybe at the general store? Did someone at the Grudge tell you about us Kings while I was getting our drinks? At what point did you know exactly who I was?”

Emily’s shoulders shifted toward me. A defiant glint shimmered in her eyes. “You sure remember an awful lot about that night for somebody who treated me like I was utterly forgettable.”

I shook my head. “You ghosted me, Prim,” I seethed.

“Prim?”

I bit back a smile and leaned in. “You act all prim and proper, but I got to see how much of me you could take before your eyes watered.”

Anger and desire flared across her features, sending pink flooding into her cheeks. My crudeness had probably crossed more than a few lines, but I liked this riled-up version of her. It planted her squarely into enemy territory, extricating her from the tiny cracks in my chest she had previously tried to burrow into.

“I’m not sure what your last name has to do with it, but I swear that I didn’t know you were a firefighter.” Her voice wavered, but only slightly before she hardened it again. “But then I saw your uniform in the closet, and it wasn’t hard to put two and two together. My dad is your boss.”

“I guess that explains your graceful exit.” At the time, her awkward high five had been hilarious and endearing. Now it just poked at a pressure point between my ribs.

Across the hall I spotted Connor chatting up the two women he had pointed out earlier. I finished my whiskey, enjoying the dull, hazy numbness filling my brain. “Well, this has been fun, Prim, but I gotta run.” With a smart-ass look on my face, I held up my hand for a high five. Emily’s nostrils flared, and I chuckled. “No? Cool.”

I strode away toward Connor but felt the chill of her pretty sea-glass eyes on my back.