Page 12 of Mine to Possess (Veteran K9 Team #3)
Linc
W iping the sleep out of my eyes, I grab Li-Lou and follow Barron and Sarge from the parking lot into the Silver Mountain Ski Lodge.
Barron brought me out here at the end of last season—one week after I ETS’d and moved to Colorado—and introduced me to the Search and Rescue supervisor, Brad Schmidt.
One test run down the mountain followed by a couple of beers while telling old Army stories and Schmidt hired me even though there are dozens on a waitlist that goes back a couple of years.
That pissed off a few of the old timers who have friends on said list.
It is also one of the many good things about being ex-Army.
We have our own form of nepotism, and considering my Army brethren are the only family I’ve got, it’s the only patronage I’m going to get.
I worked every weekend with Barron for the rest of February and March until the resort closed down and will work every other weekend up here this season until I’m too old to ski.
Like Barron says, once you get on the payroll, you don’t give up your position. Ever.
Considering I have no desire to go back to Arkansas for the holidays, I’ll volunteer for every extra shift I can get my hands on too.
It’s not like I have anything else going on, and I need the money.
We walk through the rental area to the staff door.
While Barron pulls out his phone to find the security code, I glance around the room, my gaze instantly going to a couple of hot blondes trying on rental boots.
The women are giggling, and there is something so bewitching about them in this moment that I go tunnel vision.
The one sitting down is cute with her strawberry blonde braids, but it’s the platinum blonde kneeling in front of her that I can’t seem to take my eyes off of.
Maybe it’s the pure moment between the two of them right now—like they don’t have a care in the world.
Their joy is infectious, but it’s the lyrical teasing of the one on her knees that has me entranced.
Or maybe it’s her dark eyes, cute button nose, and full-lipped smile.
I wonder if they are friends or sisters?
Either way, two of them and two of us. Perfect.
“Holy shit,” I hiss to keep my voice low enough that only Barron will hear. “Do you think they’re sisters?”
Barron glances over his shoulder in their direction. “Don’t know. Why?”
“We should ask them out,” I say with absolute surety, positive he will glom onto my brilliant idea.
He punches in the code, and the door pops open. “No.”
The finality of his one spoken word has me snapping my eyes to him. “Why not?”
“Sweet Jesus. To be a young horndog full of self-confidence again,” he grumbles, leading the way inside the restricted staff area.
Horndog—I hate being called that, even if there was a time when there was a semblance of truth to it. I’m a natural born flirt. It’s one of the survival mechanisms I learned from my mother, but the negative connotation that accompanies horndog has always bothered me.
It’s right up there with slut, manwhore, and douchebag—none of which I want to be known as.
Not anymore.
I follow behind Barron and hold the door open with my back as I stand in the threshold and stare at them.
“One, I’m not a horndog, but fully aware of what I like—and blondes with beautiful smiles do it for me.
Secondly, when’s the last time you had sex?
And thirdly, what’s the harm in asking them out? ”
Barron glances out at the women. “You might not be a horndog today, but I’ve known you since you were nineteen years old, so don’t act like you’ve always been sweet and innocent.
Secondly, my sex life is none of your business and you better never ask me about it again.
And lastly, we can’t date them. It’s part of our employment contract that we don’t ask out the resort guests. ”
That breaks me out of my trance, and my eyes snap back to his. “Really? I agreed to that crap?”
He shrugs. “It's a fraternization thing.”
Well, fuck me.
I was so excited about the job that I read none of the fine print. Not that it doesn’t make sense, but it’s not what I want to hear at this moment. I’ve been out of the military and living in Colorado for ten months now, and in that time, I’ve only dated one woman for a couple of months.
Which is why I was defensive when he called me a horndog. My days of chasing tail have been over for quite some time, but I can’t seem to shed my manwhore veneer. “Fine. If we see them on Sunday after we get off work, we’ll ask them out.”
“And then what?” He shakes his head. “They’re renting their equipment, which means they’re not local. They’re probably flying back to Southern California or Florida or some other beachfront property next week.”
“Man.” I give up my post at the door and push past Barron into the locker room. “You’re bumming me out.”
He walks into the office and grabs our dorm keys off a peg board. “You’re better off finding a woman in Spring City if a relationship is what you’re looking for.”
Sighing, I throw my jacket with the rest of my gear into the locker they assigned me two weeks ago. “I don’t know what I’m looking for, man. I figure when I find it, I’ll know.”
Barron looks at me with a hint of amusement and nods. “Maybe you’ll be lucky, and it’ll smack you upside the head with a two-by-four.”
I raise my brow. Barron was married when I started working for him and in the middle of a divorce when I got back from my first deployment.
I really know nothing about his relationship, considering he isn’t the kind of man to talk about his personal life—especially not back then when I was his subordinate. “Is that how it was for you?”
Frowning, he shakes his head. “No. I don’t think everyone gets a lightning bolt. I certainly never did.”
Something about his tone tells me to drop the subject, even though I would love nothing more than to have a male role model to talk about relationships with.
Although, maybe Barron isn’t the right guy, even with thirteen years of experience on me.
Vale, on the other hand, is head over heels in love with his new bride. Maybe he’s got a few pointers for me.
We grab a bite at the grille before getting our dogs settled in our dorm room for the night.
The accommodations are not bad considering they are free, but not much bigger than the barracks we lived in at Fort Lewis.
They are considerably nicer than the tents or connex we shack up in while deployed, so I’m thankful no matter what.
I lie on my twin bed as something plays on the television, but I’m not really paying attention to the movie. My mind is on the pretty blonde from the rental shop.
I wonder where she is staying tonight?
Barron said they aren’t local and we’ll probably never see them again, which makes sense, I guess. And yet my brain, heart, and dick are scheming a way to run into her tomorrow so I can introduce myself.
If I can finagle twenty minutes with her, I know I can charm her into having dinner with me.
And then, who knows?