“Okay, let’s get changed.” I sighed and picked up my tuxedo.
“We don’t have a choice, do we?” Kincaid growled under his breath and grabbed his tuxedo.
I knew Kincaid just wanted to get the evening over with, so he could get back to work. The serial arsonist that had been plaguing New York was turning into an obsession for him. He was my best friend, so I tried to help when I could, but I wasn’t an investigator. My part usually ended when the hoses were dry. The arsonist made things worse by writing letters to the local newspapers after every fire and he thrived on the fact that he hadn’t been caught. He even gave himself a name—Fireball. Based on the tone of his letters, he seemed to think he was some sort of villain straight out of a comic book, but we didn’t have any superheroes that could track him down. We just had Kincaid—and while he was more than competent, it was his first real case. I knew Kincaid wanted to crack the case on his own, but I was starting to think that it wouldn’t be a bad idea for the FBI to take a personal interest in Fireball. It would definitely take some of the strain off of my best friend.
“I guess we should go get this shitshow over with.” I adjusted my bow-tie and grunted.
“Yeah, the faster we pose for a million photographs, the faster we can get back to the station.” He sighed and picked up his jacket.
“I was actually looking forward to a nice evening with someone. I should have known I wasn’t going to be that lucky.” I slid on my jacket and shrugged.
“Same here.” Kincaid nodded. “I figured I could at least show my date a good time, even if I wasn’t that enthused about taking time away from the case.”
Even though most of the guys didn’t talk about it, we all knew that some of the women who bid at the auction expected more than just a little hand-holding on their date. It was why none of the married firefighters ever agreed to pose for Heated Hunks. None of us were obligated to actually sleep with our dates, but it happened—probably more than people realized. That definitely wasn’t going to happen on our date though. I wasn’t even sure Veronica Stone had a pussy between her legs—I wouldn’t have been surprised to find out she had a dick bigger than mine. I knew more about her than anyone else at the station because my little sister used to work at Livingston Capital. She needed therapy after she quit and was officially diagnosed with PTSD—from a fucking office job. I couldn’t imagine what kind of hell she went through before she finally walked away—but I was probably going to get a taste of it firsthand before the night was over.
And I have to bite my tongue—no matter how much I’d like to give that woman a piece of my mind.
“Hello.” The woman who bid on us smiled as we walked into the lobby. “My name is Marissa.”
“Hi Marissa, I’m Donovan.” I extended my hand. “Or just call me Mr. February if that’s easier.”
“I’ll stick with Donovan.” Her smile got a little wider as she shook my hand.
“I’m Kincaid.” He extended his hand. “Where’s your boss?”
“Well…” Marissa bit down on her bottom lip. “She’s not coming.”
“Wait, what?” I blinked in surprise.
“Yeah.” Marissa sighed and looked down at the floor. “It looks like I’m your date for the evening.”
“This is a rather—interesting turn of events.” Kincaid narrowed his eyes. “Does that mean we don’t have to pose for a million photographs tonight?”
“You’re not completely off the hook.” Marissa laughed and pulled out her phone. “We have a schedule.”
“Oh, great.” I rolled my eyes and grunted. “Okay, let’s follow the schedule.”
I was actually okay with posing for photographs if I didn’t have to be berated by Veronica Stone in the process. I doubted that Marissa was going to make us retake every single one of them if the lighting was exactly perfect. Plus, staring at Marissa all night was not going to be torturous. She was hot-as-fuck, and every curve that pressed against the fabric on her dress was practically calling my name. It was too bad that I didn’t have her all to myself, because I would have definitely started putting the moves on her immediately. I would have had no problem helping her turn that dress into a heap on the floor at the end of the night either—she was no ice queen—that was for damn sure. Her dress could have been on fire and it still wouldn’t have been hotter than she was.
“What’s first on this schedule?” Kincaid walked beside Marissa and tried to look as her phone as we headed towards the limousines.
“Pictures in the park—before it gets dark.” Marissa looked up at the sky. “So I guess we need to hurry.”
“Yeah, we don’t have much daylight left.” I nodded and grabbed the door to open it before the limousine driver had a chance.
We talked a little bit on the ride to the park. I was curious to know more about Marissa—and rather surprised to learn that she was Veronica Stone’s secretary. That was the same job my sister had before she lost a piece of her soul. Marissa seemed to be unaffected by whatever horrors she had witnessed at work. She smiled, laughed, and as the miles passed beneath the tires—I found myself drawn into her infectious laughter. Even Kincaid couldn’t fully suppress a few smiles along the way. It was nice to see him with something besides a scowl on his face. The investigation he was working on seemed to make it permanent—not that he was very happy before that. He hadn’t really smiled at all since his last relationship ended.
If she’s making him smile, then I might have a little competition if I decide to turn up the heat before the end of the night.
My bed was rarely cold, but I had never been in a serious relationship before. I chased my desires, satisfied them, and moved on. Some of the women I dated accused me of having commitment issues, and that was partially true. My sister and I were raised by our Dad, and he didn’t exactly set the best example for us when it came to relationships. He already had three ex-wives and was working on a fourth because he had no idea how to keep his dick where it belonged. It seemed easier to just avoid marriage completely, which is why my relationships ended as soon as I started to get attached. I didn’t have to find out if I could be loyal to just one woman if I never let them get close enough to have that expectation.
“Okay, so we’re supposed to—well…” Marissa stared at her phone.
“What’s wrong?” Kincaid raised his eyebrows and looked at her.
“The photographers are set up, but they’re expecting us to be on a double date.” She sighed and looked out the window. “I guess I’ll just walk around with the two of you individually and then get a few shots of the three of us to be safe.”
“Oh, so this was supposed to be a double date?” I tilted my head to the side.