Page 317 of On A Manhunt: Complete Series

GEORGIA

By the time we were done buying my new snow boots… and puffy coat… and hat, the roads had been plowed enough where Mac thought it was safe for me to drive myself around town for my meetings. It was hard for me to be put out that he decided what was best for me, but to be honest, it felt good.

He was thinking of my safety. Mac no doubt saw my being southern as a weakness, not having snow boots or a proper Montana coat or the skill to drive in snow.

But his alphaness came from concern and safety, and I hadn’t had someone take care of me in a long time.

And the last thing I wanted to do was get in an accident and he get called out to rescue me.

Sure, Mom and Sassy worried about me, but not for the same reasons.

They worried about me because they thought I couldn’t do anything right.

That I failed at pageants, my weight, my marriage.

I didn’t have a husband and two point five kids and a picket fence and a minivan and a husband to satisfy with chicken and dumplings on the table at six and a blow job before bed.

Without all that, I wasn’t doing life right.

I was tired of being shamed by people in my life. Momma and Sassy, even Art. Yes, I’d let them, but I hadn’t taken the time to step away and see it. Like really far away. Like Montana.

So I spent the day reveling in Mac’s good girls and concern. I’d had my first man-made orgasms in a long, long time. He helped me pick out sturdy, thick–and cute–boots with fake fur trim. A pink coat. He’d rolled his eyes at the color but approved the down fill count.

I was wearing both, plus a cozy hat with a fake fur pompom on top, when I went into the same meeting room at the fire station as last time and opened my laptop for everyone to see the first images.

The photographer had shared with me the folder of all the images and I narrowed it down and selected a few for each month for the committee.

These were the ones I thought were the best, that showed each of the firefighters’ personalities and where the pet they were holding was behaving.

I was nervous because while everyone but Mac was excited about this fundraiser alternative, I wanted them to like the progress. If they hated it, I could organize a chili dinner. But I’d feel like a failure. Or feel like more of a failure.

I needed this to work. I left Calhan with my tail between my legs. I didn’t need to leave Montana the same way.

Today it was Mac, Maverick James and Mayor Mary in attendance. Patrick was on shift, and they were out doing fire inspections.

Like Monday, I stood in front of the conference table. Like Monday, I was nervous as hell. Yet, I had my pageant smile on and exuded all the fake confidence I had when twirling that baton trying for the Little Miss Calhan trophy.

I spun my laptop around to face them. “Mayor, if you’ll just click the right arrow, you can scroll through the images.”

She shifted in her chair to reach the keyboard. Maverick and Mac flanked her and they leaned in.

“The goal of these photos is to portray that the Hunter Valley Fire Department is friendly, confident, competent, but also down to earth,” I began, ensuring they understood the perspective and reasoning behind the shots.

As I spoke, I studied their expressions. Mary’s smile grew as she clicked through the photos. Maverick and Mac looked like they were in a poker game, not wanting to give any tells as to the cards they held.

“The animals aren’t an add on to make the images cuter,” I continued. “While they do, it’s more to show them as loveable as possible and clearly people friendly and adoptable. The–”

Maverick held up his hand.

“These are really great,” he said, looking me square in the eye.

He was a really attractive, really large man in a Steaming Hotties pink t-shirt.

“Very impressive. You’re right. The dog, especially in this one…

could you go back an image, Mary?” he asked.

She did and he pointed. “It’s almost like he’s on shift as part of the crew. ”

“Such fun,” Mary said. Her eyes were still on the laptop display. “This one, with Peter, that’s done well.”

Mac humphed, leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest.

Oh no.

The mayor and Maverick looked away from the laptop and to him. “You can’t possibly have a problem with these,” Mary said to Mac.

“Still think they’re objectifying your crews?” Maverick asked, circling back to what Mac complained about on Monday.

“No,” Mac replied. “These photos…”

I held my breath. When I realized my smile was slipping, I pasted that fucker right on. Just because we’d, yeah, done some serious oral the other night and he’d fingered me to orgasm right down the hall in his office didn’t mean he was going to like the photos.

“...are really great,” he finished.

I exhaled and my fingers actually tingled.

He liked them. Thank the good Lord. The smile now was genuine.

“Good. I heard your concerns on Monday with regards to this project steering clear of sleazy or inappropriate. The importance of this, besides raising money for a worthy community cause, is to showcase that the fire department is the community. It’s made up of brave, kind and approachable locals. ”

“She and the photographer have done a damned fine job,” Mary added.

She looked to Mac, her gaze running over him in his uniform.

The shiny badge on his chest had CHIEF across the top.

“Why do you look like you’re constipated?

That’s the look everyone in town would have the day after the chili dinner. ”

She laughed and Maverick’s mouth twitched.

He dropped his arms and gave her a weak glare. “Because now I have to be Mr. January.”