Tie 'Em Up, Hold 'Em Down

Chapter 1-2

Robert Barrington, respectfully and affectionately known as Bear, was in the mountain park chatting with the other Search and Rescue (SAR) canine crew members under a sky as clear and blue as the mountain air was crisp and chilled. He was glad he’d worn a jacket and gloves. Only vaguely aware that another vehicle had pulled up and discharged its driver, he was surprised when Bill Winthrop, the team leader, called to him.

“Bear, I’d like you to meet Dane Garrison. I’m assigning him as your new SAR partner. This is Robert Barrington, better known as Bear, and Blood, his hound.”

Bear walked over to greet the men. “Mark Johns finally moved away?”

“Right. He joined a team in Orange County.”

The newcomer extended his hand, and Bear looked into a face of movie idol beauty. Dark, smoky eyes below a fringe of lashes and a brush of hair the color of midnight looked directly into his. Dane’s smile was open and friendly. He had the kind of skin that became irritated with too much shaving, and this Saturday morning he had the faint signs of a shadow on his upper lip and following the line of a jaw that was strong and angular. It only added to his s*x appeal.

Lust swept through Bear—pure, linear, compelling, contained only by force of will. It wasn’t the usual stirring of his blood upon seeing an attractive man, but something deeper, more powerful. For a moment he couldn’t move.

This man was to be his partner? Damn. If he didn’t keep his distance and tamp down his reaction, there could be hell to pay. Letting his feelings for this newcomer show could ruin the illusion he’d created here years ago that he was straight, not only in SAR, but as a firefighter, too.

He’d always felt that Grogan, a former fellow firefighter, may have let his guard down in some way to lead the men to suspect he was gay. Bear didn’t know if he was, but he’d watched the man being subtly drummed out until he resigned from the fire department altogether and moved away. The station captain hadn’t noticed the harassments, and apparently Grogan hadn’t reported them.

Bear didn’t know where Grogan had gone or even if he was still in firefighting, but he was determined it wasn’t going to happen to him. He’d worked too hard to be where he was. Controlling this streak of lust for the new man meant everything. Especially if he was gay, too.

He switched his dog’s leash to the other hand and removed his glove. “Welcome. Glad to meet you.” It came out more stilted than he intended because he knew on the instant that this man spelled danger to the secret he kept about what he was in capital letters.

Dane’s grip was firm—a strong man’s handshake. Bear’s heart rate revved up at his touch. He wondered if the other man felt his bounding pulse, heard the racket his heart was making in his chest, knew of the growing tumescence in his c**k. For a moment, he thought the newcomer had noticed—thought he saw a brief sensual flare to his nostrils. Then it was gone. It must have been his imagination.

It had better be or I’m in double trouble.

“This is Cinnamon, Garrison’s search partner.”

Bear looked down at a golden retriever whose reddish coat glinted in the sunlight. She danced around as if eager to play, a necessary trait in a rescue dog. By this time, Blood was tugging at his leash to reach her, to sniff her butt and take her measure.

After giving the two dogs time to get acquainted, Dane sat on his haunches and extended a closed fist to Blood. Distracted from his attentions to Cinnamon, the hound took in the man’s scent by a thorough sniff of him. Satisfied this was a safe person, he allowed the stranger to scratch his wrinkled head and rub behind his long, droopy ears.

“This is the first Bloodhound I’ve seen. He has great points and beautiful tan coloring. I don’t fancy the other colors myself. You ever show him?”

Warmth rushed through Bear as he watched how fast Blood had accepted him. Later, he thought that may have been the moment he’d fallen for Dane Garrison. The team was composed of dog lovers, but he could tell this guy and his hound had formed an immediate bond in a special way. That brought his esteem for the man up several notches.

“Thanks. I was lucky to find him, and I prefer the tan, too. No, I’ve never shown him. Not my thing. Your Cinnamon’s a real beauty. Friendly nature, too.”

Responding to her name, the b***h edged over to check Bear out. At first seeming intimidated by his size, she finally allowed Bear to sniff. Her coat, of a medium length in contrast to Blood’s short, smooth coat, felt soft and silky.

Bear looked up to see Bill smiling as he watched them. “Excellent match. Let’s start training. I’ll play victim first.” He jogged off and disappeared to hide for the dogs to locate.

Once he’d disappeared from sight, team members fastened vivid blue vests with the word “Rescue” over the backs of their dogs. Giving Bill fifteen minutes to hide, the morning began. They moved along the mountain trail, the aromatic scent of pine so strong to humans Bear thought it a wonder the super sensitive noses of the dogs could smell anything else.

Dane and Cinnamon worked well beside Bear and Blood, so there was no chance of a reprieve from partnering with him. Crazily, despite their winter jackets, anytime they were close, Bear thought he felt the man’s heat. He had to draw his gaze away from Garrison’s hands as the long, adept fingers signaled and handled his canine. He shuddered. The thought of them gliding over his naked body to stroke and penetrate didn’t stand considering.

Inwardly, he groaned, annoyed with himself. It’d been a long time since he’d responded so fast and deep to any man. I’m acting like a school boy with a crush. I need to concentrate on the training, not the ache in my swollen d**k.

Cinnamon was quick and clever. Blood’s forte was trailing, picking up rafts of scent along the ground. His ears almost reached dirt, acting as a conduit for the flow of skin cells up to his sensitive nose. Cinnamon was an air scenter, head up as she sniffed.

Blood was familiar with the smell of the thousands of unique skin cells each team member shed. When they hid someone, he automatically sought the one scent that was different or missing. It took the silken retriever only a few tries to develop such discrimination.

When they broke for lunch, the talk settled, as usual, on search and rescue experiences and the dogs themselves.

Bill clapped Dane on the shoulder. “Blood found me on that first hide, but Cinnamon made her share of finds today, too. She’s a great dog. She’ll give him a run for his money at the annual Firefighters’ Muster in Zanja City if you can be there. Despite how big he is, Bear’s hound has always located more victims faster than any of the smaller dogs.”

“And this muster is—” Dane asked.

“It’s a big community event held in the park—chili cook-off, tug o’ war, pole climbing, searches. Several fire companies participate, along with the SAR groups. Hope you can join us.”

Dane smiled. “I’d like taking part in your muster if I’m available.” He glanced around. “It’s play time, I see.”

Balls, squeaky toys, and flying disks came out of bags as the men continued to reward their dogs with play for a morning of hard work. Dane pulled out Cinnamon’s favorite ball and tossed it. She raced for it, returning with it clutched in her mouth. She dropped it and sat, her tail wagging as she waited for another throw.

Most of the members brown-bagged their lunches, but Bill provided coffee and soft drinks from the SAR command vehicle. After the dogs had played themselves out, they were watered and fed. A few team members left, but most pulled out their food and sat at various tables to eat.

Bear opened a packet of hand wipes and offered one to Dane when he wandered over to sit opposite Bear. He pulled the Velcro closure apart and opened an insulated lunch pouch.

“Have you been with the team long?” Dane asked.

“About four years.”

“I’ve been doing this about that long, too, but in the state of Washington.”

“With all the rain and snowfall there, you must’ve been busy. Although we’ve had more snow and rain than usual this season, ordinarily we don’t get much.”

Dane’s laugh was easy and comfortable. “Dry terrain will be a nice change. Washington’s the only place I’ve worked, and we did way too much snow and water recovery.

Bear smiled. “We do a lot of summer rescues of hikers who fell or got lost. They’ve usually set off alone and not left word at the ranger stations as to their plans.”

Each time Bear looked up, Dane’s eyes looked directly into his in the most disconcerting way. Bear didn’t want to be overly friendly, wanted to keep it on a professional level, but this guy’s personality was so open it invited closeness. At one point, he felt Dane’s boot brush his under the table, and for a moment he stopped chewing as emotion uncurled in his belly. He refused to look up for fear what he was feeling would show in his face. At least his jacket was long enough that if his c**k betrayed him it wouldn’t be noticeable.

To his relief, Bill joined them, and he didn’t have to continue his conversation with Dane.

Bill unwrapped a chili burger. “We do some rescues at the ski resorts, but we have more work in the other seasons. Even experienced mountain hikers can get into trouble.”

“It reaches over a hundred some days, and the canyons are dry and dusty. Bad news if you’re lost or hurt,” Bear added.

Bill shook his head. “Why people hike alone or without proper gear and emergency equipment is beyond me. Even the best of us could slip and fall or become confused if a sudden storm moved in.”

“Overconfident maybe? It’s sort of like experienced pilots who don’t file flight plans. They say physicians are the worst. Overconfident because of their medical skills.” Dane finished half his sandwich in two bites.

“It’s sad. We can’t always reach them in time because we haven’t a clue where they may have crashed in these mountains.” As Bear watched his new partner chew, he found himself wondering how those sculpted lips would taste. Would they be musky, like c*m after a blow job, or maybe have the warm flavor of malt, as after a beer? He shook his head to halt that line of thought and drained his can of Dr. Pepper. He shivered. “I think I’ll get some coffee. A cold drink in this chill air was a mistake.”

Before he returned, Dane, crunching an apple, had moved on to visit with other crew members. Bear watched as the faces of Carole and Deidre, the two single women on the team, lit up when Dane approached. And why not? He’s a gorgeous hunk of a man. Wouldn’t be surprised if he was named SAR’s Sexiest Man of the Year someday.

There was no SAR sexiest man award, and he recognized the tinge of regret he felt that this gorgeous man he wanted to f**k was probably heterosexual.

“I’m glad we’ve gotten a replacement for Johns this soon.” Bill let the steam from his coffee rise to his face before sipping.

Bear pulled his thoughts back to his leader. “With your Washington experience, we won’t have to train you, Garrison. This has been our heaviest snow season since I’ve worked here.”

“To change the subject, what’s your schedule for this month?” Bill marked off the days Bear could train with the team. “You’re headed home now?”

Bear nodded. “It’s too cold to sit out here much longer.”

“Playing slow pitch in the valley tonight?”

Bear let a smile break through. “Yeah. Wouldn’t miss it.”