Page 51 of The Fireman and the Flirt

I wasn’t worried. In fact, I wasn’t upset that I lost out on that house, despite liking it. More house hunting meant more time I got to spend with Cary.

Cary: There’s another house in that development going on sale. When are you free to take a look?

My dick immediately perked up at the chance to hang with Cary again. I still had residual horniness from our first encounter. I wanted more.

But I also needed a damn place to live. Russ wanted to give me a tutorial on loading the dishwasher tonight.

Derek: I’m free tomorrow afternoon.

Cary: Perfect! Don’t give up hope.

Derek: I won’t.

As long as we got to spend more time together, I would never feel hopeless.

The rest of my shift flew by. We provided assistance at two traffic accidents which thankfully had no fatalities, just shaken up motorists. I did a workout at our gym. I flashed back to the way Cary stared at my body in the shower like I was the hottest thing on the planet. Nevermind that I had a gut, thinning hair, and an overgrown beard. It made me stand a little taller. I’d worried that I had let myself go and that aging wasn’t being kind to me, but Cary helped keep those fears at bay.

It was early the next morning when I left the firehouse. The sun was beginning to rise, painting the sky a pale blue. Two guys with familiar, flat-looking faces were waiting outside holding a warm cup of coffee for me. Their noses seemed distractingly small, as if they were descendants of Voldemort.

“Derek. How’s it going, man?” said the one who opted for a neatly-trimmed goatee.

“Here. Have a good morning pick-me-up.” The clean-shaven one handed me the Starbucks coffee cup, which I didn’t take. Never take candy from strangers.

“Do I know you?”

“Tad Morris,” said the goatee.

“Chad Morris,” said the baby cheeks.

They each held out their hands. Behind them, I spotted their faces on a bench ad.

“From Prescott Realty?” I asked, giving them each a firm handshake.

“Exactly,” Tad said.

“You work with Cary.”

They exchanged a knowing look that sent a weird chill up my back.

“We do. We’re very fond of Cary. We just had a question,” said Chad. “How is your home search going?”

“You came to my work at seven in the morning to ask me how my house search is going?”

“What can I say? We’re always there for our clients,” said Chad.

“But I’m not your client.” This whole conversation was odd from the jump, and I wanted to get to the point as fast as possible. “What’s going on here?”

Chad put my coffee back in his holder. He had the debonair confidence of a man that was used to getting what he wanted. “We saw you tried to make an offer on a house in Eden Falls. Unfortunately, our client swooped in.”

“They were determined,” said Tad with a laugh that I could’ve sworn sounded rehearsed.

“We know a few people who are getting ready to list their properties. We could get you a sneak peek, let you get in before the rush and have your pick of houses. You’re a busy man. Putting out fires and such.” Chad signaled at the firehouse behind us. “Thank you for all you do to keep Sourwood safe.”

“The last thing you want to do is spend your holiday season going from one house to another,” said Tad. “You want that time to spend with family and Jolene.”

Hearing my daughter’s name out of his mouth ignited a protective urge that made me want to clock these assholes. I didn’t like the feeling of being researched. When Cary had talked about Jolene in our first meeting, it came from a genuine place of interest. These guys sounded hollow.

“Are you trying to poach me from Cary?”

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