Page 3 of Her Filthy Grump

I shift from my slouching position to my full height and slip the sunglasses back over my eyes. “Ma’am, this duck you call, Gertrude, has caused traffic to stop for fifteen minutes. It’s brought me from the quiet of the fire station to solve your little dilemma. And this baby bird is swimming in the gutter with its mouth open.”

“Oh.” Her eyes go soft, and she jogs back to the drain as locks of auburn hair flow behind her in waves. “The poor guy’s hungry.” She glances at the ground and spins in a circle. “Do you think we could find a worm?”

“No,” I sigh. Is this woman for real? “I don’t think we can find a worm, and I’m not searching for one.”

“That’s mean.” She frowns and looks at me like I’m the most evil person she’s encountered today.

Hell, I probably am. I don’t care about the duck. Or its offspring. All I want to do is clear the mess, report the job resolved, and wait for some real action to occur. Wrangling ducks doesn’t qualify as real fireman’s work. “Despite what you may think, wild animals don’t appreciate you feeding their young. If we feed this damn bird, Gertrude might abandon it.”

She clutches her chest. “You called her Gertrude.”

“Oh, for the love of God.” I shake my head and spin on my heel.

How in the hell did I end up here? Ri-i-ight. A humiliating breakup with an ex, and an offer from a cousin to housesit while he travels. Except, I wasn’t expecting the Little Bo-Peep of Ducks to need help herding birds.

By this point, several of the townspeople have gathered in the park to block the rest of the hatchlings from following the mother duck and dropping their dumbasses into the drain. Thank fuck for that.

I squat and grasp the rusted grate on either side and yank upward. The metal grinds, but nothing moves. “Per-r-rfect.”

“What is it?” Miss Pollyanna moves to my right and hunkers down beside me.

The coconut scent of her shampoo fills my nostrils and causes the blood in my veins to hum.

Dude, don’t. You’re not here to let your dick get you into more trouble, and little Miss Sunshine appears to be trouble with a capital “T.”

“The drain is stuck.”

“Let me see.” Her tiny hands clasp the grille, and she tugs. “Yep. That’s tight.”

Tight.I shudder at the vision of her slender body sliding over mine with her plump lips smashed against my mouth. Her whimpers eager as I plunge into her depths. I have no doubt she’d bring a whole new meaning to tight.

Damn it. Stop.What’s wrong with me? Women are the root of all evil. I’ve yet to meet one who wasn’t deceitful and manipulative.

“What’re we going to do?” Her big green eyes stare like I’ve got some magic wand shoved up my ass and can solve all the world’s problems.

“We aren’t doing anything together,” I growl with more force than intended, and her eyes fill with hurt.

Fuck.I close my eyes.No. It’s better this way. Let her think you’re a prick.I straighten my shoulders and open my eyes. “Get back, and I’ll take care of it.”

“Okay.” Her eyelashes flutter closed as if she’s shielding her response. Before I can say anything else, she stands and gives me a wide berth. Thank God. I don’t need the distraction.

After studying the screen for several seconds, I place my hands at the four and ten positions. Here goes nothing. I sure the fuck don’t want to call Gavin Monroe or one of the other guys at the station to help me get a damn duck out of a drain. I’ve only been on the job for a week, and I don’t need that kind of humiliation.

And God forbid if Gavin’s uncle, Chief Monroe has to come save the day. The only reason I have this job is because he’s doing a favor for my cousin. It’s not like there’s another fire station in a town this size.

I hunch down, hold my breath, and yank with all my strength. The grate jolts upward and breaks free. The crowd surrounding us erupts into a booming cheer, and several lights flash.Great.I cringe.Please, don’t have this be on the cover of the newspaper.

“Oh, my God, thank you.” Little Miss Sunshine grips my bicep and ogles me like I’mThor.

I press my lips together. Don’t fall for it. There’s always a price to pay. No one’s as pure as the driven snow–even if this one looks like an angel. “Get the duck.”

“Okay.” She spins away from me.

Fuck. I’m a jerk.I clench my teeth and try to ignore her as she drops to her knees without seeming to care about getting dirt on her dress and scoops the critter out of the drain. “Take it straight to the grass, sit it down, and walk away.”

“Yes, sir.” She marches away from me with her back as stiff as if she’d slept on a bed of bricks.

Do not imagine her using that term in a non-condescending way. I should repeat that again because the first directive doesn’t seem to be working.

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