Page 292 of On A Manhunt: Complete Series

MAC

I slept like shit. Well, I hadn’t slept from all the tossing and turning and thinking of Georgia and the way she looked as I’d approached her with the key to the garage apartment.

Her eyes had widened. Her head had tipped back to keep my gaze.

Her pulse had thrummed in her long neck.

Her tongue… fuck, had flicked out to lick those glossy lips.

I’d wanted to kiss her. Press her into the bed. Hell, press her against the wall and give her a very personal and thorough welcome to Montana.

But no. I controlled myself. I’d had to rein in my interest since I caught my first glimpse of her as she walked through the airport.

How the hell had the woman who sat beside Andy and Dad on the plane turned out to be my tenant in the garage apartment?

Why did she have to be so fucking pretty?

How come I had to see her sexy underwear and know she liked delicate lace to cover her pussy?

Why did I have to imagine she probably fucked herself to sleep thirty feet away with that big purple vibrator?

Those thoughts only got me hard, then harder until I couldn’t take it any longer and had to rub one out for some relief.

Then I fell asleep but dreamed about a red lipstick stain around the base of my dick.

That, of course, meant when I got up I had to jerk off again. No way could I leave the house like that. Showing up at the station with a hard on would only get me looked over by the medics for priapism–a.k.a. perpetually hard dick.

Thankfully I left before Andy woke up, but I’d had to tell Dad about Georgia. He showed up at six-thirty, as usual, on the days I went on shift. I got right to it, not only because I didn’t have tons of time, but because I didn’t want to think too hard about why she was messing with my head.

“Georgia’s the tenant in the apartment,” I said, shutting the front door behind him. I tipped my head toward the garage.

He hung up his coat on one of the pegs on the wall, and looked my way as he pulled his hat off. His gray hair stuck up every which way.

He cut to the kitchen to grab some coffee. “Georgia? The woman from the plane?”

I nodded and followed. “Showed up last night. Turns out, she works for James Corp, and they put her up here for her stay.”

He laughed as he filled a mug he pulled from the cabinet. “Just last night you said you’d never see her again.”

I glared, grabbed my fire department walkie talkie from the counter and left. The sound of his laughter followed. I also thought he said, “This is going to be fun.”

Ten minutes later, I entered the station.

“Morning, Chief.”

I waved and headed straight for the coffee for my second round. A regular coffee maker was too small, so we had a restaurant-sized brewer that kept us in constant supply of hot, fresh Steaming Hotties brew. Eve generously donated the beans to keep up with our caffeine needs.

“Had a strange car in front of your house last night,” Noah Flowers said.

He was one of the fire lieutenants. Close to my age.

Three kids. Receding hairline. Tattoo of Sponge Bob on his right bicep he told us he got in college when he lost a bet.

Nice guy, but unfortunately lived down the street and was really fucking nosey.

“Finally got the space over my garage rented,” I told him.

He grinned, bumping me out of the way to refill his mug.

“Oh yeah? It’s mud season. Not a skier. Not a hiker.”

Was he a firefighter or a detective? “A woman who works for James Corp.”

His bushy eyebrows went up. “Oh yeah? Pretty?”

I leaned against the counter and crossed my arms over my chest as I watched him pour way too much sugar into his coffee.

“Shouldn’t you be asking if she’s smart?”

He frowned. “Huh?”

“Yeah, Pansy,” Maria Grasu told him, using his nickname. “I bet if it was a guy who was staying in Mac’s place you wouldn’t ask if he was pretty.”

“Course not,” Flowers said, offended. “All I meant was that you said Andy’s been vocal about wanting a mom. Marissa said he mentioned it in class one day.”

Marissa was his oldest and in the same class at school as Andy.

Maria’s look changed from annoyed to curious. “In that case, yeah, Mac, is she pretty?”

I sighed. We were a close-knit group and sometimes I wished we didn’t know each other’s shit.

I ran a hand over the back of my neck. “Yeah, she’s pretty.”

Pretty was an understatement. She was fucking gorgeous.

They looked at each other and made funny kissy sounds like they were in fourth grade.

“Who’s pretty?” Marcus Van Routen asked, coming from the gym and wiping his face with a small towel.

“Mac’s guest in his new vacation rental.”

“The space over the garage?”

I nodded.

“Andy know about her?” Flowers asked.

“She arrived last night after he went to bed.” No way was I telling them she was with them on the plane.

“Good thing,” Van Routen said, slapping me on the shoulder on the way to the sink to refill his water bottle. “Otherwise, he’d be planning your wedding before school.”

I frowned. “I’m not marrying her.”

“You could do worse,” Flowers said, putting his spoon into the dishwasher. “She’s pretty. On your property.”

“You don’t even know if she’s eighty or single.”

Maria shook her head. “No way an eighty-year-old gets up and down those steps. How old is she?”

A crew from the station came and helped me move some furniture from Dad’s house and into the space last month. He had plenty of extra pieces after living there for over thirty years, although I did order a brand-new mattress.

Again, these guys knew too much.

I shrugged. “Thirties. I’m not looking for a mom for Andy,” I said, running a hand through my hair. That was way too much pressure. I hadn’t even had sex with a woman in a year, so the chances of marrying one were pretty fucking slim.

“I’m talking about a woman for you,” Van Routen said, pointing at me.

“Yeah, you need a woman,” Maria said.

“A wife? Same thing,” I countered.

Van Routen shook his head. “A date. Hell, maybe a one-night-stand.”

I shifted the fire department walkie talkie on my belt, not interested in talking about either my dating history or sex life with them.

That made me remember I gave my other belt to Georgia. When she was on her knees looking up at me. And–

NO! Stop thinking of her sucking your dick!

“I won’t bring a woman into Andy’s life and have her leave.”

“Already happened, right?” Flowers reminded. “What was her name? The blonde?” He turned, leaned against the counter and took a sip of his coffee.

“Carrie,” Maria tossed out there.

“Teri,” I corrected. “Andy was two when I was with her. It’d be worse now.”

Teri was the last woman I’d been serious about.

An insurance agent. We’d dated for three months.

She was nice. Pretty. Liked Andy, but in the end, didn’t want someone else’s kid.

Hell, she hadn’t been sure she wanted one of her own.

Andy had cried for a few days missing her, but since he’d been so young, quickly forgot her.

Last I heard, she’d moved to Helena. She was another reminder that women didn’t stick.

“He doesn’t have to know,” Van Routen offered.

I shook my head and laughed. “She’s staying over the garage. He’ll know.”

He’d probably think Santa had set this whole thing up.

“Your dad had sex with your mother for twenty years without you knowing.”

I frowned and my dick was absolutely, positively, not hard any longer. “Jesus, Flowers. What the hell?”

He held up a hand. “You think people with kids never have sex? You have to get creative. Helping Mom with the laundry. Looking for something in the basement. How do you think people have more than one kid?” He waggled his eyebrows. “I have three.”

Me, Maria and Van Routen all rolled our eyes pretty much in sync.

“All I’m saying is that there’s nothing wrong with scratching an itch,” he continued. “She doesn’t have to be Andy’s new mom.”

“She’s temporary,” I growled because the crew I trusted with my life in a fire was annoying the shit out of me.

Flowers put his mug down, went to the cabinet and pulled down a box of cereal. Since we were on shift for twenty-four hours, we ate our meals at the station. “Exactly. She knows she’s not staying. You know it. Have some fun.”

I sighed, looked down at my worn boots and set my hands on my hips. I wanted to have some fun with Georgia. I had a long list of things we could do. Long.

Van Routen took a big swig of water then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “What’s the trouble, Chief? That’s not the look a man should have when thinking sexy-times thoughts about a pretty woman.”

“I’m all about having fun,” I replied. “But with Georgia over the garage and Andy obsessed with getting a new mom? That’s dangerous. Hell, she’s dangerous.”

He considered, then nodded. “Right. Stay away from her then.”

The alarm went off indicating an emergency call. We dropped everything and ran for the bay, our gear and the engine.