Chapter one
Sawyer
“I’ve got twenty on Sawyer not going home alone tonight.”
I fight back a smirk over my glass, not denying or confirming my intentions for the night. Gotta save the smirks for when they’re really needed, and these two jackasses would be a waste of a good one if I unleashed it on them. Not to brag or anything, but I could weaponize that thing if I wanted. Nothing but straight-up facts. There’s a reason my nickname among the wildfire crews is Lover Boy. Because while the smirk is the bait, the panty-dropping smile is the hook. I’m unstoppable in getting whoever — and whatever — I want.
Derek and Boone, two of the guys I’ve been to hell and back with, have seen the smirk in action more times than I can count.
“Shit, I’m not taking that bet. It’s more a question ofhow manybroken hearts he leaves behind.”
“I didn’t notice you complaining the last time we went out, cowboy.” Arching my brow at Boone, I wink. “I seem to recall you had an absolutely lovely time with that brunette that didn’t make the cut.”
Boone slaps me on the back. “Too right, man. Too right.”
My eyes survey the ballroom, decked out in shades of red and silver. This is my second year attending the British Columbia Firefighter Fundraiser gala as Mr. July in the annual calendar, and the cocky arrogance I felt walking into the room last year is back in full force this time. Find me a red-blooded male who doesn’t enjoy being told he’s one of the hottest firefighters in the province for two years in a row and I’ll sell you some ocean front property in Arizona.
Nights like tonight are prime pickings for a guy like me who’s only interested in one thing: a couple hours of mutual, consensual fun.
Derek, Boone, and I have that in common. Which is a good thing, seeing as my three brothers back home in Dogwood Cove, who used to be the ones to join me on a night out on the town, had to all go and settle down, leaving me a lone wolf. And rather than howl at the moon, this wolf is fucking lonely. Something I’ll never admit to anyone. Don’t get me wrong, I love my future sisters-in-law, but that’s not for me. No fucking way.
I’ve always loved women. Short, tall, curvy or slim. Redheaded or blonde, sweet or spicy. I don’t care. Women are to be worshipped and cherished.
But only for a night.
“Sawyer? Did you hear me?”
I shift my attention back to Boone. “What? Sorry, I missed that.”
He just gives me a knowing wink. “Too busy scoping out your next conquest?”
“You could say that,” I say, hiding the fact that I wasn’t paying attention. Lifting my glass to my lips, I take another sip of rye and Coke. “What did I miss?”
“We were just reviewing the terms of our deal.”
I let out a low chuckle. The fuckingdeal. I don’t even remember which one of us assholes came up with it, but after last year’s event, we decided this year to make things interesting, we’d add in some higher stakes.
The three of us have been friends for years, even though Boone and Derek both work on the mainland and I’m stationed in Dogwood Cove. We’ve fought enough wildfires together to form a bond that isn’t easily broken. Briefly, my mind pictures the fourth person that should be here with us. But just as quickly, I dismiss it. Dwelling on Lance and why he’s not here isn’t exactly what I need to get my game face on.
“I thought it was clear,” I say confidently. “We agree on a woman, then ask her to choose which of us had the hottest photo this year. Losers pay the tab tomorrow night.”
Yes, it’s exactly as arrogant and chauvinistic as it sounds. We might be grown-ass adults, but we still have moments of juvenile idiocy.
“You’re going down this year, Lover Boy.” Derek shoves me lightly in the shoulder. “That kitten they had me hold is gold, baby, pure gold. No woman can resist a guy in turnout gear holding a kitten.”
“You don’t have it in the bag yet, D-man. All I had covering my junk was a hose. That’s fucking hot. Let’s pick our mark. How about her?”
Unbidden, my eyes follow the subtle point of Boone’s finger and land on a sleek black dress shot through with silver thread. The generous curve of her hips draws my attention upward, the fabric skimming the dip of her waist, the flare of her breasts. Sleeves that have a long slit from shoulder to wrist show off a hint of skin that’s way sexier than I anticipated from, well, arms.
It’s a good thing Boone and Derek aren’t looking in my direction because the second I lock onto her face, I choke on my drink.
Holy forking shirtballs.Yep, her beauty calls for a quote fromThe Good Place.
I’ve seen a lot of stunning women. Hell, I find beauty in just about every woman I see. Whether it’s their appearance or something deeper, every single woman is beautiful in their own way. But this one? This one is so goddamn gorgeous she outshines everyone else around her.
Blonde hair cascades over one shoulder in gentle waves, the light hitting the golden strands, making her glow as if she’s heaven-sent. Long earrings compliment her long and slender neck. Deep red lips with a fucking adorable little cleft just below them. She’s smiling, but it’s small, hesitant almost, and I’m seized with a bizarre need to see her let her guard down and truly shine. Her eyes sparkle in the dim light of the room, and while I can’t make out what colour they are, the long dark lashes framing them give her an innocent appearance that is at direct odds with the sensual vixen vibe the rest of her gives off.
“No ring, and she’s here with a friend. We’re two for two, green light for go, and that blue dress will look good on the floor of my hotel room.”
