“I could get ready a lot faster if you got out of my room and allowed me to put some clothes on.”
Taking the hint for what it was, I left her and headed back out to the front porch where I opened my work app to see what was on the docket for today.
Something curious caught my eye, so I pulled up Major’s contact—my boss at Montana Fish, Wildlife, and Parks Enforcement office. Major was also the VP of the Dixie Wardens MC Sawtooth, Montana chapter.
When the decision to become a game warden for Montana FWP came up, I’d been hesitant. I knew nothing about Montana.
I did, however, know a lot about animals and hunting.
That was, apparently, all that I needed to know.
Apollo had pretty much built me a former life as a game warden, and I’d gotten certified in Montana as a law enforcement officer all on my own before I’d taken the job that Major had offered me.
I knew my shit now, and Major liked having someone there that could watch his back that he could fully trust.
“Major,” he answered on the second ring.
“Why are you up so early already assigning shit?” I joked.
“That’s what bosses do, bruh. Assign jobs,” he snarked right back.
“Why are you always working?”
My boss chuckled. “Because firearms, alcohol, and five-foot-nothing unstable women are expensive.”
I burst out laughing. “You’re not lying.”
I liked Major’s wife, Sorcha, a lot.
She was a great woman who loved her man a lot.
She also could cook like a dream, and I was constantly awarded with her cooking anytime she stopped by to see her man.
She was kind enough to share with the single men of the office.
“What’s the situation going on with the dead moose?” I asked.
“There’ve been three of them this week,” he said as the door behind me opened and Birdee stepped out in jeans, a thermal, and her hair piled high on the top of her head.
She was makeup-free, and I found it refreshing that she was so uninhibited that she could step out of the house with what most women would consider a “naked” face.
Ready? I mouthed.
She gave a nod and closed the door behind her.
I eyed the lock that she should’ve had a key for, but ultimately decided not to comment on it.
“What manner were they killed?” I asked.
“Arrow,” he answered as I turned to make sure Birdee made it down the steps all right.
She walked slowly, but not warily, and I walked back to my truck and held the passenger door open for her.
She got inside, again slowly, but managed not to look too unbalanced.
I closed the door behind her before rounding the hood, and once again looking at the douchebags across the road.
They flipped me the bird when they caught me staring, and I snorted.
