SWAT Ed: Fox & Bull (Nothing Special 8)

He wasn’t smelling Fox’s leather coat that blended so damn good with his spicy cologne. He wasn’t going to run his fingers through the sexy silver-and-black hair that looked softer and shinier than an Akhal-Teke’s mane. Fox stood several inches shorter than him, but the lieutenant had charm and confidence that made him appear ten feet tall. And it drove Bull fucking crazy.

“How are things going at the house?” Bull asked, needing to stop those thoughts. “Could you see anything on the cameras?”

“No. The camera footage is outdated. I’ll be working on that with Free later. But I came over because I did find how the trespassers came onto your property,” Fox said, still petting Bull’s horse.

“That was fast—” He frowned. “Wait… you said trespassers… plural.”

“Yeah. At least two, but I’d say three. A driver, a lookout, then the asshole that threw the brick.”

“What the hell?” Bull murmured. “Shit. All right. Let me rug Mercy up so he doesn’t get too cold and put him in the field. I’ll meet you back up at the house.”

“Yo, boss.” Bull heard Dale bark. “How about a ride later?”

Bull thought that might be exactly what he needed after such a stressful morning. “That’s the best idea you’ve had all day.”

“Hey, um, Fox.” Dale stood with his hands on his hips, giving Fox a good once-over and lingering on his expensive motorcycle boots. “It’s pretty obvious what you prefer straddled between your legs, but do you ride a real beast… a horse?”

Bull sighed heavily. Well, he hadn’t hired his foreman for his delightful people skills.

Fox spoke through clenched teeth. “No. I don’t.”

“Shame.” Dale shrugged. “I would’ve asked you to join us tonight… but since you can’t…”

“I didn’t say I can’t… I said I don’t,” Fox bit out.

“You say to-mah-toe… I say tomato.” Dale wasn’t a man to back down when he felt challenged. He was the second-in-charge; therefore, he knew just as much as Bull when it came to the ranch’s business. So, to be kept out of the loop about Fox’s true reason for being there had him acting like an ass. But Bull couldn’t tell him yet that Fox wasn’t there to take his job; he was there to protect it.

The tension in the air was thick enough to choke Bull, and they were standing outdoors. He didn’t have time for his foreman’s ego, not when Fox had valuable information for him. “Dale, I still need to get to the Arabian. Can you get him out of his stall? I’ll be back in a bit—I need to go up to the house for a while.”

“Shit. I’ll fucking try.” Dale nodded. He left without speaking another word to Fox, but when Bull turned to face him, he’d already gone back to petting Mercy as if he’d dismissed Dale long ago.

Bull wondered what was going through Fox’s mind as he continued to run his hand along Mercy’s strong flank. Fox’s light eyes were hooded, and he moved almost in slow motion as if what he was doing was therapeutic. Fox wasn’t wearing that cocky smirk that Bull often saw; instead, his lips were parted and softly curved, and Bull wanted to press his mouth to them so badly he hurt. They gravitated towards each other, meeting at Mercy’s neck, and Bull stood there staring, mesmerized at Fox’s mouth, ready to take with no regard, damn whoever was watching.

“When you gonna teach me to ride, cowboy?” Fox asked, his deep voice heating Bull inside his jeans.

Fuck, wouldn’t he love to see Mandel Tucker wild and free on one of his horses. His tight ass sitting snug in a saddle, his thighs tensing in his fancy jeans as he tightened them to make the animal move to his will.

“Or should I ask one of these other trainers you have around here?”

“No,” Bull practically growled.

“Then when?”

The brim of Bull’s Stetson almost touched Fox’s forehead when he rumbled, “Soon.” He led Mercy away before Bull could embarrass himself by dragging his “new employee” behind the barn.

Bull met Fox at the front of his house. He was sitting in one of the Adirondack chairs on his porch, gazing up at the busy bird feeders. It was in the lower fifties today, but Fox behaved as if the brisk weather and the smell of animals didn’t bother him. He looked at peace sitting there… and very tired.

If only this man was mine. He’d be in bed after all he did yesterday. Bull wasn’t sure if Fox spoke about his cases with anyone, and he wasn’t gonna bring it up. But he could only imagine how stressful that job was. All those lives in his hands, one wrong move and someone could be killed. And he didn’t even get proper credit for it.

“Hey,” Bull said, sitting in the chair beside him.

“Hey,” Fox mimicked. “It’s only two o’clock and it seems like you been working for hours.”