Page 16 of Just This Once

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 thebanquet 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,manytimes 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.”

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