Page 6 of Anchor Point

Nate and Thoren had found new love and settled down, and our crew had grown closer in the process. I didn’t envy their new relationships, though I appreciated the way we’d stuck together as a family with the addition of Jordan and Kylie. When the town had needed us to help with tornado recovery, when Nate had been in the hospital, and then when Thoren had, everyone had come together as a unit.

Hell, even that stupid shirtless calendar they kept roping us into… all of it strengthened the brotherhood bond.

But I’d never told anyone of my explosive fling, and they didn’t need to know anything about it now either. And I had to quit thinking of families and bullshit. That shit never did me any good anyway.

With a grunt of frustration, I shoved open the door to the living quarters and pushed my disturbing thoughts away. The past was best left in the past. Today was what mattered.

And right now, I was going to pack my bags to attend this fucking meeting first thing in the morning, instead of heading to work on my boat.

I walked into the conference room at headquarters with five minutes to spare. Nodding at the other captains, I grabbed the closest seat facing the door. This fucking meeting was infringing on my personal time, and I had a ton of shit to do.

My crew had taken one look at me this morning and hightailed it to safer parts of the station. I couldn’t seem to keep the scowl off my face, despite knowing I needed to play nice with the city administrator and mayor.

It was just an extra hour. It shouldn’t be such a big deal. But I was over the administration’s underhanded politics and HR’s fluffy, feel-good bullshit.

And, fuck, but I was exhausted.

I loved my crew and the good we did. But I was tired of the three a.m. bullshit headache calls, like last night’s run on a guy who’d been sick for three days, hadn’t taken any meds, and suddenly needed to be transported in the middle of the fucking night.

I’d find something else, a new job that didn’t require nightly adrenaline rushes, but I’d worked too damn hard for too damn long to give up on the one thing that’d kept me going—the promise of an early retirement.

From the hallway, I heard Bloom’s annoyingly jovial voice chatting it up, and the equally annoying voice of the mayor as he openly flirted with Cathy, the department’s administrative assistant.

Being at the new station meant I didn’t come to HQ as often, but Cathy was one of ours.

If that old man offended her and ran her off like he’d done his assistant… I bristled, halfway out of my seat when they entered the room. The mayor was first through the door, greeting the four of us with handshakes and back claps.

I took a sip of coffee to hide the sneer that threatened every time that asshole was around. Fucking politician.

Bloom followed in his wake, equally as fake with his too-big smile and jokes. The city manager was a nice enough guy outside the office, but when he was in city-manager mode, he had a kiss-ass way about him. The dichotomy between his two faces made me not trust him. And it was too fucking early to deal with politics and bullshit agendas today. I was supposed to be at the lake and would’ve been if they hadn’t fucked up my plans with this meeting that could’ve been an email.

I hid behind my coffee again, avoiding direct eye contact with either of them by shifting my attention to the door as the next person entered.

She was tall, decked out in the formal fire department uniform. Her stark white coat a striking contrast to the fitted black skirt. Her dark hair was coiled into a tight bun at the nape of her slender neck. She looked professional and smart, and the vaguely familiar expression on her face indicated she’d take no shit. I let my gaze roam down her body, no doubt like the rest of these assholes were doing. Across the table, Roberts was checking out her legs as she passed him. She filed in and stood next to Bloom, clasping her hands in front of her.

A glance down at her hands showed the only indication that she might be feeling something other than the calm coolness she projected. The pointer finger of one hand rubbed against the knuckle of her thumb. It had been her tell way back when we’d met at the cocktail bar. Then, the simple movement had been entrancing. Now, she twirled a shiny thumb ring, equally hypnotizing.

In an instant, I was transported back in time. The last time I’d seen her, that hair had been a glorious mass of long dark curls blowing in the wind as we’d kissed goodbye on the dock of the private resort. Before that, those curls had been splayed out over a pillow beneath me. I’d buried my face in her graceful neck, and my body in hers.

I shifted in my seat, adjusting the uncomfortable, immediate hard-on pressing against the zipper of my uniform pants.

What in the hell?

This was Livvie, my Livvie.

Except she wasn’t. She was polished, with a cold air about her.

The Livvie I remembered was flowy and bright. Soft and romantic.

This woman was professional and sharp. Not a bad thing, just a difference I couldn’t reconcile in the moment.

The mayor’s introduction was a buzz of words that didn’t penetrate. Then the city manager smiled his bright white smile and added to the noise.

All I paid attention to was the brass shield on her uniform coat, indicating that my perfect fling partner was now my new boss.

She made eye contact with each of the captains as they were introduced. From the fog, I heard my name called, and then her eyes were on mine.

A bolt of lightning ripped through me, shredding my insides. Threatening to blast me from the inside out. Every sound in the room was magnified—the scraping of chairs as they sat, the voices I’d known for so many years—all rumbling together in a massive cacophony in the too-small room. All my nerve endings lived outside of my skin, exposed, sensitive, raw. The scratch of my shirt across my back, the too-tight cuff on my arms, the press of the shears in my leg pocket. All of it was too much.

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