SWAT Ed: Fox & Bull (Nothing Special 8)

“Well then, you’re just gonna have to trust me on this one. Fox is here for a very good reason, and I’d appreciate it if you and him could get along a little better. I’m sick of ya both trying to ruin my supper with the constant shit you hurl at each other.”

“He shoved me, Bull… hard. Like I was some damn kid.”

Bull had to shield his grin behind his fist. Damnit, Fox.

“He broke the no-fighting rule, and that’s cause for immediate termination.”

Bull gripped the brim of his hat between his thumb and forefinger and brought it as low on his brow as though he could to prevent Dale from seeing the annoyance in his eyes. “I’ll talk to him.”

Dale skewered him with a hard look. “Are you doing more than just talking with him?”

Bull gritted his teeth before he rumbled, “How in the hell is that any of your business?”

Dale inched closer, and Bull stood to his full height. “I’ve seen his type. I know what men like him do to fuckin’ lonely saps like us. They take advantage.”

“Fox isn’t like that. He’s one of the most selfless men I’ve met since I moved here.”

“Okay, I’m ready for mounting,” Fox called from behind them.

A groan accompanied the roll of Bull’s eyes. Nice timing.

“Un-huh. You hear that? He’s all ready to be mounted.” Dale angrily tossed the piece of straw from his mouth. “And I doubt he’s talking about the damn horse.”

Bull pinched the bridge of his nose. “Well, at least I know why you finally started accepting Amelia’s dinner invitations. You’re spying.”

Dale muttered, “I’m being a friend. By the way… what’s on the menu for tonight?”

Bull rolled his aching shoulders. He was going to have to explain to Fox that if he wanted to blend in, if he wanted to continue staying there, he’d have to be considerate to his staff and customers. Definitely no fighting. And he needed to be honest with Dale.

Fox stopped a short distance from them. “I’m right on time.” He cut his pretty gray eyes to Dale and gave him a wink that made his foreman’s ruddy cheeks turn an even deeper shade before he turned and stomped off.

“That guy needs a hug.” Fox chuckled.

Bull closed all of the space between them so Fox had to tilt his head back to continue to match the glare Bull gave him. He told himself he was only getting that close for privacy. Lying ass. But he just couldn’t help himself. He hadn’t had another taste of Fox’s lips since the first time he’d lost his cool and taken what he’d needed. Bull was long overdue for more. It’d been a couple of weeks, and Fox was still there. And each day, Bull’s mind became a little more at ease that Fox wasn’t a runner and therefore his heart a tad more accessible.

“Your foreman is a jackass,” Fox said simply.

“Did you put your hands on him?” Bull asked, trying to keep his tone neutral as he stared down at the storm clouds swirling in Fox’s irises.

“If I had, he’d be unconscious in that barn.”

Bull found himself staring at the fierce lieutenant, the front of his Wranglers getting tighter. “You’re not here to assess my staff, Fox.”

The tips of their boots were touching, and the top half of Fox’s face was shadowed by the brim of his Stetson. The closeness felt so damn good and right. Fox gazed up at him, and Bull struggled not to do it, not right there. There were customers all over.

“I know exactly why I’m here, Bull.” Fox licked his lips, the predator in him showing. “I’m already on the job.”

Bull desperately needed to adjust his cock that was bent at an awkward angle in his denims.

“Now come on, you’re three minutes late starting my lesson. Do you want a negative Yelp review?”

Fox donned his helmet, hefted his tack, then walked farther into the training ring. Dolly was already waiting for him, and Fox did what he’d seen a lot of the beginner-level students do. He slowly extended his hand—with more sureness than he used to have—and offered the strawberry roan quarter horse the back of his hand. Fox stayed that way until Dolly came up and pushed her nose into his palm. When he turned to Bull with an excited smile that lit up his world, he knew then he’d do anything to continue to see that exact sight every day.

Each morning, Bull peeked into Fox’s bedroom to see him sprawled across the covers in a deep sleep from staying up all night on watch. And each afternoon Fox would walk around the ranch and observe Bull working while covertly casting him suggestive glances. Bull would scowl in return and pretend he didn’t appreciate it—since it wasn’t easy sitting in a saddle with his balls throbbing—but he did. Fox didn’t normally distract him for long. He’d visit the petting zoo often and help out where he could. Sometimes Bull found him leaning against one of the fences, staring at the animals, seeming at peace with the world. Then each night, Bull got to gaze into those gorgeous gray eyes at his supper table and listen to him and Dale entertain them with their bullshit. It was becoming a steady routine that he looked forward to.