Page 8 of Playing With My Fire

I’m not particularly happy about being forced into an arranged marriage either, but as I said, take what you can get.

Chapter Two

? Estrella ?

It’s a quarter to seven in the morning when I pull my ancient GMC pickup into the nearly empty lot of station forty-nine. I yawn nice and wide as I pull my tired ass out, stretch every muscle in my body, and try to shake off the aches of last night and not getting nearly enough sleep.

I knew better than to play the night before my shift, but things have been hectic. From Aly dealing with that narcissistic asshole, to our Abuela having a heart scare last week and sitting with her in the emergency room for nine hours only to discover it was a crazy case of indigestion, I haven’t had much time for myself. And mamma needed to get her kink on or risk snapping at any one of these fools I work with.

Eh, not fools exactly, but in the mood I was in, they’d each find their way onto my shit list.

Plus, it didn’t hurt that Caleb was feeling a little neglected so, who was I to leave him high and dry?

The place is mostly dark, if I didn’t know these rooms and halls like the back of my hand I’d be tripping over something every few feet. The dim light under the hood of the stove is like a beacon as it leads me to an almost full pot of coffee.

I take my time to breathe in its nutty, dark aroma before I bring it to my lips and take a tentative sip before drinking deeper and sighing at its thick, sludgy goodness.

Right off the bat I know Captain Elden brewed this pot. We’re the only two who like our coffee how we like our men, strong and thick.

In less than ten minutes, I’ve drunk half the pot, so I begin another before I put all my stuff away, and begin to prepare for my forty-eight-hour shift.

As I pass by the lounge, I wave at the guys from Crew B and run into our new transfer Lieutenant Beau. He’s a muscly motherfucker, and barely fits through the doorway, but I don’t mind a bit of extra strength as long as it lacks any sort of rage.

He’s proving to be the strong, silent type, which is good with me considering the rest of these guys can’t stop yapping their jaws.

“Beau,” I nod.

He nods back with a little knowing smirk, but it’s too early, or late, depending on who you ask, for me to read much into it.

“Are you ready to start your day?”

That little shit-eating grin grows. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Good enough.” I pat him on the back and carry on to my little slice of privacy.

I shut my door with perhaps a bit too much alacrity as it slams, but I shake it off as I strip down to my lacy bra and panties. I may be stuck in manly t-shirts and cargo pants, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be sexy underneath.

Once I’m dressed and booted, I head back out. My whole crew is pouring themselves a cup of coffee, and I can barely contain my guffaw as they each make a stank face at my delightfully charged brew.

I pat Manny, aka Tiny, nicknamed ironically, thanks to his huge six foot nine stature, on the chest. “Drink up. It’ll put hair on your chest.”

He smirks around his bitter mouthful. “Oh yeah? Prove it!”

I lift one corner of my mouth and saucily swipe a now polish-free nail down his firm chest. “You know you’re not my type.”

He snorts. “Who doesn’t want this tall mug of Italian roast? Plus, I got a big dick to boot.”

We both laugh knowing I don’t mean he’s not my type physically, but characteristically. We’re both too alpha and would no doubt kill each other even if we only shared a roll in the hay.

I keep sliding my finger glacially lower only stopping mere centimeters away from his growing bulge. “You know you can’t handle all of this.”

He laughs even harder. “You sho’ right, Captain.”

I fill my thermos before I clap my hands. “Alright, children, let’s get to work.”

???

At the end of my shift, I’m gathering my stuff when Luke darkens my door.

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