Page 4 of Cocoa

Lucas huffed, but he didn’t really mind. The more he thought about it, the better the idea seemed. First responders, rescued animals, and more money to help them out.

His mind flashed back to the dog park and his encounter the other day. Broad shoulders, golden fur, and a deep, easy laugh that cut through the winter air like sunshine. He didn’t know the guy’s name, but damn, he’d be perfect for something like this. Lucas would have no problem hanging a picture of him cuddling Ritz or a few kittens on his wall.

He shook his head. Hopefully, the EMTs would have a few people willing to spend a day getting their pictures taken. Lucas had to focus on the actual goal, not his fantasies of the burly blond dog daddy. After a quick goodbye to Greta, he zoomed back to town, intent on his mission.

The moment he stepped into the EMT station, a bolt of nerves zapped down Lucas’s spine. Two shiny ambulances sat ready for action in the garage bay out front. A man in a navy polo with the station emblem on the chest tucked red med kitsinto a cabinet on the far wall of the front room. It wasn’t a lobby, although the front desk sat empty off to the side.

The man tucked the last bag in and shut the cabinet door before turning around. “Can I help you?”

Lucas stepped closer. “Um, maybe. I’m here to talk to anyone in charge about a fundraiser idea. I’m here for Hearthstone, the animal shelter just outside town.”

Nodding, he waved Lucas forward. “That’ll be Chief Larrabee. Go on in.” He pointed toward an open door between a restroom sign and a bulletin board covered with random notes and flyers.

Nerves kicking up another notch, Lucas stepped into the doorway. This wasn’t quite like meeting with clients, and the many rejections lately had chipped away at his confidence.

A grizzled man in his fifties with silver-streaked hair sat behind a desk. His sharp eyes pinned Lucas in place. “You Lucas? Greta called me.” The somewhat scary and intense look softened when he smiled, and prominent crow’s feet popped out near his eyes.

“I am.” He took the chair opposite the chief. “So, you know—”

“Hot first responders and rescue pets,” he interrupted with a grin.

“Well, we welcome anyone who wants to participate. We’re not looking for fashion models or anything.” Lucas smiled and brushed his hair behind his shoulder. “I’m the photographer for the project. The shelter provides the venue and the logistics. You’d have to talk to Greta about sales management and allocation of funds. We’re just hoping you might find some volunteers for us.”

Larrabee leaned back, looking thoughtful. Then, with a firm nod, he leaned forward and shouted toward the main room. “Ryder!”

Lucas’s stomach did something strange, like if he just stepped off a curb he didn’t realize was there. It felt like he was suspended in midair for one tiny second.

Then, sure enough, a familiar, broad-shouldered figure stepped through the door. His navy-blue uniform pants stretched over thick thighs and an equally muscular ass. He wore a station t-shirt straining against his biceps and barrel chest.

Lucas sat up straighter, suddenly hyperaware of his rumpled jacket festooned with dog hair and his windblown hair. There was no way, right? He tried to stifle his disbelieving laugh. It was a small town, and his luck had been weird lately. Of course, the man he’d imagined holding a puppy for a photo-op, the man who had nearly knocked him off his feet earlier that week, was an actual EMT.

Ryder blinked, his bright gaze flashing from Lucas to the chief and back again. “Uh… hey?” He frowned, thick blond brows lowering, and his eyes narrowed. “What’s up, Chief?”

“This guy,” Larrabee said, jerking a thumb at Lucas, “wants some of my best to pose for a fundraiser calendar. You in?”

Ryder’s lips pressed together before he spoke, his stormy eyes darting between the chief and Lucas. “A calendar?”

“A first responder and rescued pet calendar,” Lucas clarified, watching Ryder’s expression with amusement.

There was a beat of silence before the big man rubbed the back of his neck. “We’re not posing nude, are we?”

Lucas grinned and couldn’t stop the next words from popping out of his mouth if he tried. “Tempting, but no. Not that kind of calendar.”

The chief cleared his throat loudly, and something flickered in Ryder’s gaze until he pulled his attention from Lucas back to the smirking man behind the desk.

“Right. Just checking,” he muttered.

“It wouldn’t be the first time someone suggested it,” Larrabee said.

Ryder exhaled sharply. “I mean… I don’t do that kind of thing.”

Lucas bit his lip. “Holding animals?”

His next glance had some fire behind it. “Posing.”

He was having way too much fun watching Ryder squirm, but Lucas had to keep things professional, especially in front of the man’s boss. “You know, you and Ritz were the reason I thought of this idea in the first place when I was talking to Greta, the shelter director.”

“What? Why?”