Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

"Andera."

Cisco's chief barked his name out the second Cisco walked into the Orono police station amongst all those just coming off shift.

What the hell was Chief Ildavorg doing here at this time of night on a Friday?

Cisco had just completed his three-to-eleven stint, and had been looking forward to not going home, but heading to the club he sometimes frequented in Bangor. He wasn't feeling it right now, but he needed to see if he had it in him to pick up a woman. It had been far too long since he'd hooked up, and he was determined to snap his dry-spell. He'd been downright lame lately, unable to muster the interest or the energy to pour on the charm and find himself a willing bed-partner.

What was wrong with him?

It couldn't be that nearly all his closest buddies were now either married or happily engaged to kick-ass women and no longer had the time or the inclination to act as his side-kicks and wing-men. Only he and Welker Vestore from his original group of five SWAT friends—Mike, Kyle, and Doug making up the balance—remained woman-free, and Welk had been too busy lately taking night courses to hit the bars with him. The man was furthering his knowledge to become more useful with the forensics he was often tasked with for their team.

Cisco could always call Dieter, the chief's son and his best, long-time friend outside the department. But the lobsterman was probably already in bed, his boat cleaned and prepped to leave its mooring at butt-crack o'clock in the morning.

It sucked that his cohorts "normal" schedules didn't mesh with his, but Cisco had, last month, finally put in to be transferred to the day shift. It was a long overdue move, and…maybe that's what the chief wanted to talk about.

With that happy thought in mind, Cisco turned his attention to his boss. "What are you doing here so late?" he asked Frank Ildavorg.

The chief beckoned him into his office.

"The wife's gone on a quilting weekend with her sister and the house is empty. So, I'm catching up on some paperwork."

Cisco knew that was code for the chief being lonely. It was no secret that the nearly forty-year marriage of Frank and Suze Ildavorg hadn't lessened their attraction to each other. Dieter often joked that he was still single because his parents were an impossible act to follow.

The chief closed the door behind them. "Have a seat, Cisco."

Yeah. Inside his boss's office, his Uncle Frank—as Cisco had known him growing up, even though he was no relation, but a close family friend—didn't stand on ceremony, and called him by his first name instead of the ubiquitous last that was de rigueur in their department.

Cisco sat on one side of the desk, while his honorary uncle plunked his ass on the other.

"I know you want to head out, so I'll make this brief," the chief began.

Cisco nodded. There was no need to tell the man what his plans were. He clearly already knew.

"You put in for the day shift a few weeks ago."

Cisco tried not to let his excitement show.

"You also made a notation that you'd be interested in working with kids at one of our town's schools."

Cisco couldn't help it. His interest was piqued and his fingers tapped on his knees.

Was it possible he'd get both his wishes?

He'd been patient and bided his time in the job he'd held for the past nine years, but in the last few months he'd realized that as much as he loved his night-owl hours, it limited his connection to people with "regular" nine-to-five schedules. As well as that epiphany, he'd long since known that as a motorcycle cop, his bike had given him an "in" with the youth around town, and those interactions had led him to want more time mentoring the younger citizens of Orono.

"But as you know," Uncle Frank continued, "we have several resource officers already covering all those school positions."

Well , so much for fishing both wishes.

"However…"

Cisco's ears perked up. This sounded like a good, "however".

"…I've had a request from a woman who runs an overnight camp called Camp Venture out on Pushaw Lake. She'd like to run some self-defense courses for her campers, and asked if I had any recommendations for an officer who could help her out or take on the program."

Hell, yes ! That sounded like a job squarely in Cisco's wheelhouse.

Ildavorg continued.

"Knowing the training you've had, not only with us but with your SWAT team, I figured you might be interested."

"I am." Cisco didn't hesitate, and didn't bother to hold back his excitement. Uncle Frank knew him too well for Cisco to play the indifference card. "I'll do it."

"Good," Frank stated, succinctly. "Which means that starting next week, you'll be on the seven-to-three shift, Monday through Friday. Two days out of your work-week, you'll head to Camp Venture to run some classes."

The chief pushed a piece of paper across the desk, because… Right . His uncle was old-school, and if he could write something down, he'd never bother texting.

"Here's the camp director's contact information. I want you to take the next two days off to get in touch with her, scope the place out, and come up with a schedule that suits you both. How does that sound?" He sat back in his chair with a smug look on his face, crossing his arms over his still taut belly, as Cisco—who wasn't a paper-person—adeptly keyed the date into his phone.

"You know it sounds awesome, Uncle Frank." Cisco couldn't help but beam. He'd been needing a shake-up to his boring routine, and here it was being handed to him on a platter. "Thanks for this. It's just what I've been jonesing for." He picked up the paper and stuffed it into his top, uniform pocket.

Still smiling, Cisco got to his feet. "I'll let you know?—"

"Wait," his uncle interrupted. "Don't you want to know how long the assignment will last?"

Cisco lost a little of his exuberance. Right. It was mid-June now, and even if camps were starting to ramp up for the summer, the season only lasted a few months and would be shutting down at the end of August. Did that mean both the camp gig and his change of shift were only temporary things?

"How long?" he asked cautiously.

"Well, the camp part of your assignment is only for two-and-a-half months."

Just what Cisco had figured. His enthusiasm waned.

Frank, however, was still talking. "But after that's wrapped up, if the day shift still seems to be agreeing with you, we can make that part of your schedule permanent."

"Seriously?" Now Cisco was smiling again.

"I wouldn't kid you about something like that," Uncle Frank told him, also standing up. "You've worked hard. Probably harder than anyone on the force to prove your worth. And you've had to do it because everyone knows we're almost family. Which means I waited this long to give you a better schedule so no one could cry favoritism. Now, any potential naysayers can one-hundred percent see that your years of service and your merits speak for themselves. You've earned this, son."

Cisco would normally shake the man's hand if there were people around. But since they were alone, he practically danced around the desk to give his nominal uncle a big, heartfelt bear hug.

"Thanks, Uncle Frank," he said, his voice choking up a bit. "You won't regret this."

Uncle Frank clapped him on the back and spoke gruffly. "I know I won't. But if I do, I'll kick your ass back onto the three-to-eleven without blinking."

Cisco stepped away and grinned. "Of course you will. But we both know that's not going to happen."

"See that it doesn't. And son?"

His words stopped Cisco as he turned to head to the door. "Yeah, Uncle Frank?"

"Now that you have your nights free, your Aunt Suze wants you and your parents to come over for dinner this Thursday night. How does that sound?"

"Great," Cisco replied. "But I'd like to be the first to tell Mom and Dad the good news. So can Aunt Suze hold off before she calls with her invitation?"

"Not a problem. She's not back from her quilting thing until Sunday night. Does that give you enough time?"

"Perfect," Cisco agreed. He normally saw his parents on Monday or Tuesday evening for dinner since those had been his full days off, but now that he was going to have a "regular person's" schedule, he'd surprise the hell out of them by dropping in tomorrow afternoon. He'd surely have his business at the camp wrapped up by then.

He didn't live far from his childhood home. Five years earlier he'd purchased his own small, rough but well-appointed bungalow just a few miles east of town, and had done a lot to fix it up and make it home, but he still liked his mom's cooking, that was for sure.

Cisco grabbed the doorknob, but before he let himself out, he turned back. "I can't say thank you, enough," he told his uncle, nearly tearing up. "This is going to be a life-changer for me."

Uncle Frank winked. "Just don't use all your free nights from now on trolling the local bars."

Cisco laughed. Six months ago, the good-natured warning might have been necessary. These days? Not so much.

But Cisco sure as hell was going out to celebrate tonight.

Two hours later, just short of closing time at the Suds Hole, Cisco nursed his second beer of the evening and sighed. Yeah , the place was packed and rocking. Same as always. And also true to form, he'd been approached and propositioned by three different women who'd eyed him like a slab of bacon, but…he hadn't been able to muster the energy to engage.

He was tired of all the noise, and the fake tits being waved in front of his face; over the insincerity of it all. How could anyone decide if they wanted to go home with someone when, due to the loud music, they couldn't even hold a decent conversation?

Shit. That made him sound old. But…

Superficial had seen its day, and Cisco was embracing it. He was ready for…more.

He saw how things were with the people in his life to whom he was close. His parents were a perfect couple, as were his de facto uncle and aunt, Kyle with Rowan, Doug with Pixie, and most recently, Mike with Joelle. Yeah, Cisco knew what a healthy relationship looked like these days. He just didn't know how to go about finding one.

When he wasn't at a club or a bar in his off time, he was patrolling town on his Harley Road King, which was a female-magnet on its own. Woman practically turned themselves inside out to touch his chromed-up bike, drooling over his motorcycle-unit gear. Apparently, there was something intrinsically sexy to the female population regarding a man in a leather jacket, breeches, and tall boots. But just like meeting women in bars, the adoration he received while on the job had gotten old. Cisco was tired of all the superficial bullshit, and knew there had to be more.

There were, of course, plenty of great women on the department roster and on his SWAT team, but Cisco just couldn't see himself dating any of them. They were his buddies; his contemporaries. Which meant when he wanted to spar or needed back-up, he couldn't ask for a better bunch. But not one of them roused in him any sexual-attraction vibes. He didn't know why, but that's just the way it was with his brain. Colleagues were colleagues, and dates were… Strangers?

Right. That was telling. He'd only ever been out for anonymous liaisons previous to his newly embraced mental awakening, and that needed to change.

Recently he'd made it a point to chat with Everlee, the SWAT team's go-to person for all things protocol and mental health. She was their SWAT chief's wife, but also a brilliant and insightful therapist and mentor. She'd reiterated that he might be self-sabotaging with his choice of nameless women, but her advice thereafter, had, unfortunately, sounded like his mother.

Why don't you join a church, do some volunteer work, or take up a hobby ? Find a woman you don't work with, but can also relate to and respect.

That advice might have been solid, but it wasn't going to work for him. None of those venues were viable options when your free hours were basically ten to two except for Mondays and Tuesdays. And as boring as it sounded, on those days off, Cisco tended to catch up on chores and the ongoing renovations to his home. Maybe now, though, with his shift rotation changed…

Yeah. He'd finally have weekends free like normal people, as well as every evening after work. It was going to take some getting used to after nine years of being on the clock until eleven, but it might make a difference in his love life…

"Hey handsome."

Great.

Yet another fake-lipped woman to turn down before she grabbed his dick. Cisco gave her a tepid smile. "Sorry, but I'm just finishing up here." He chugged the last of his warm beer. "It's time for me to head home."

She moved closer and rubbed her leg up against Cisco's thigh. "I wouldn't mind being invited back to your place," she brazenly responded.

Shit. How was it he always attracted the women who were in it to score some cock?

The lie came to his tongue easily. "Uh, sorry. I have a tiny apartment and my grandmother is visiting. Maybe next time."

Without waiting to see if she pursed those enormous lips of hers in a pout, Cisco got up on the opposite side of his stool from the hopeful man-consumer, threw a few bills on the bar, and strode across the floor, pushing out into the fresh, night air.

He drew in a deep breath, his shoulders dropping from where they'd been parked around his ears.

Goddammit. There had to be a better way.