SWAT Ed: Fox & Bull (Nothing Special 8)

“Really,” Fox said dryly.

“Yeah. Land surveyors aren’t usually needed to be on call twenty-four hours a day,” Dale said in a bitter tone.

“But I need this one twenty-four hours.” Bull glared.

Dale didn’t back down from his boss’s scowl, ignoring it instead. “The hands made their famous chili tonight, thinking they were gonna have a newbie in the bunkhouse. Imagine their surprise to find out you’re staying in here.”

Fox spared Dale a sideways glance, wanting to flip him backwards out of his chair, but he didn’t want to be an ass at Bull’s table or ruin Amelia’s nice dinner she’d spent half the afternoon preparing. “I was invited to stay here.”

“By who?” Dale challenged.

“By me.” Walker spoke up, his voice as strong and commanding as his son’s.

“And what company do you work for?” Dale chewed his steak almost angrily.

Fox kept his answers simple and quick. “I work for the city.”

“Is there a problem, Dale?” Walker stamped his cane on the floor. “No need to be coy. Speak up.”

“No, sir. No problem at all,” the foreman said, adding more green beans to his plate. “Just looking out for this ranch, sir. That’s my job… and I take it seriously. Bull knows this.”

“I know.” Bull nodded. “And I appreciate it.”

Dale and Bull exchanged some kind of look that Fox didn’t like. An affectionate one, maybe.

Fuck!

Dale made sure to talk shop while they ate dinner, effectively leaving Fox with very little to say or contribute. The one time he’d asked a ranching question, it must’ve been so asinine that even Amelia covered her giggle. The bastard, Dale, even managed to pull several chuckles out of Bull as he retold stories of their training today with an irritable horse.

By the time Fox finished his second slice of lemon cake, he might have managed to get in ten words the entire meal. Dale had continued to dominate the conversation, riveting everyone with his crap until dessert was over. Fox was rarely caught off guard, but he had to admit, he hadn’t expected Dale’s competition or how fucking good he was at it.

Walker took his brandy into the living room to sit near the fire, and Amelia had returned to her domain when Dale stood from his seat. “Dinner was good, man. That’s how your foreman should be eating every night… not that damn venison gumbo Garvin keeps making.”

Bull’s laugh was light and his expression too damn warm for Fox’s liking. Bull got up and took his plate into the kitchen, calling out behind him, “Like Amelia said, Dale, you’re invited anytime. I don’t know what took you so long to finally get your ass up here anyway.”

“Oh, I do,” Fox muttered, knowing Dale heard him.

Dale cocked one side of his mouth up at Fox, staring him dead in his eyes as he asked Bull, “You still up for a ride, buddy? I got Mercy saddled and ready.”

“Now you’re talking what I wanna hear,” Bull said, hurrying through the dining room. “Let me put on something heavier.”

Fox turned to Dale after Bull was out of the room and they were alone. “Well played, motherfucker.”

“I thought so,” Dale said casually. “You may have the looks, Fox, but it takes more than that, city boy.”

“Then may the best man win,” Fox gritted out before Bull came back in with a half-grin on his face and his gloves in his hand.

“Let’s go, Dale.”

Dale brushed Fox’s shoulder on his way past and grumbled near his ear, “I’ve already won, you cocky shit. You can’t ride a fuckin’ horse.”

Bull grabbed a handful of chocolate chip cookies from the jar and a bottle of water from the refrigerator and took it upstairs with him. He felt good after his ride; although it was a bit cold tonight, the wind had felt good at his back, his mind relaxed. It was a nice surprise having Dale’s company, but he could’ve thought of someone else he’d rather have join him on some of his night rides.

As he made his way upstairs, his heart did that thing again, beating a little faster the closer he got to Fox’s open door. Bull stopped and glanced inside, but he didn’t speak, just stared at the back of Fox’s head.

“Did you enjoy your ride?” Fox asked without turning around from whatever he was looking at on the monitors.

Bull cleared his throat. “Umm. Yeah, I did. I always do.”

“You and Dale ride a lot at night?”

Bull frowned, not quite sure what the tone was in Fox’s voice. It wasn’t the suave one he was beginning to like; instead, it was biting and accusatory. “Not often, no. But the company was good.”

“Hmm.”

“Anything you need me to look at over there?” Bull asked, wanting to come inside, and that excuse was the best he could think of at ten o’clock.

“No. Just watching your employees’ activities, the day-to-day operations before the cameras went out. It’s old stuff. But if I see something I think you need to know about, I’ll bring it to your attention.”