Summer Fever

Summer Fever | Catt Ford

    “FUCK, why do I bother with this stupid thing?” I pulled over, turned off the engine, and grabbed my GPS to peer at the screen. “Lost fucking satellite again!” I knew where I was going, but the road I usually went on was blocked off, and I couldn’t quite remember the turnoff to get there from the other side. I whacked the stupid unit and the mechanical voice repeated,
    “Recalculating. Lost satellite signal.” I glanced up at the clouds in the sky and sighed. It was dusk and getting just dark enough that if I made the wrong turn, I might be wandering around on back roads the entire night.
    A flash of blue light caught my attention and in the rearview mirror, I saw a cop car pull up behind mine. “Great, I’ll probably get a ticket for loitering without visible means of support,” I muttered.
    I slumped down in my seat, waiting for the portly mook of an upstate cop to come over to chew me out.
    “Everything okay, sir?”
    I looked up and my mouth dropped open. “Man, what I wouldn’t let you do to me,” I muttered.
    “What was that?”
    2

    Summer Fever | Catt Ford

    I sat up alertly. Did he know how hot he was? “Nothing. Am I doing something wrong?”
    He smiled and I melted. Dimples on a man in uniform, I was so dead. I wondered if he had dimples in his ass, too. I caught my fingers flexing involuntarily and grabbed the wheel to give them something to do.
    He looked a little wary at my sudden movement. I hadn’t noticed it before, but his right hand was hovering by his holster and he held a flashlight in his left as if it were a club. “I don’t know. Are you doing something wrong?”
    I laughed in a release of nervous tension. “I’m not, but my GPS is.
    Lost satellite transmission. And when it does work, she changes her mind constantly. If I didn’t kind of know where I was, I’d be in Cleveland right about now.”
    He relaxed a little, which gave me a chance to take inventory of his rugged good looks. He was tanned like he spent a lot of time in the sun, and when he smiled, lines creased the outer edges of his eyes and around his mouth. I couldn’t see his eyes because he was wearing the usual aviators even though it was getting dark, but his hair was a glossy dark brown. I licked my lips while he answered.
    “Are you trying to get to Cleveland?”
    “No, I’m trying to get to Bluebird Lane, but Big Sandy Lane is blocked off.”
    “Ah, gotcha. Well, if you go on another half mile, you turn left on Little Sandy, take your third left, and you’ll hit Big Sandy past the construction. That should do you.”
    I could think of a few other things that would do me, but I didn’t want to get arrested on the first night of my vacation. Or did I? “Thanks, 3

    Summer Fever | Catt Ford

    officer –?” I peered at his badge, gleaning only the information that his badge number was 3114.
    “You’re welcome,” he answered.
    I wished I could see his eyes, but he was bent over, resting his hands on the roof of my car, so I thought we were on friendlier terms by now.
    “So if you just want to give me my ticket …”
    “Ticket for what?” He sounded confused. I liked it.
    “Whatever statute I violated by not pulling over all the way onto the shoulder,” I answered with a grin. “Then maybe we could negotiate it down to a warning?”
    The dimples sprang into his cheeks as he grinned, his teeth flashing white in his tanned face. “What did you have in mind?”
    “Maybe I could suck your cock?” I was praying that I’d read him right, because if not, I really might be heading to jail, or worse.
    “License and registration, please, sir.” He took a step back and straightened up to where I couldn’t see his face.
    I leaned over to pull my wallet from the glove box with a sinking feeling, but when you’re a little mouthy, you gotta expect reactions like that when you’re on the hunt for dick. I jumped a bit when a car drove by and I saw the lights and shield on the door. Had he called for backup? He gave them the thumbs up and they drove by, but he took my license anyway.
    I slid down in my seat staring through the windshield.
    “J.D. Andrews? What’s the J.D. stand for?”
    “Jack Daniels,” I said sulkily.
    4

    Summer Fever | Catt Ford

    He laughed. “Your parents must have had a weird sense of humor.”
    “I lucked out. My brother got stuck with Hiram Walker. I go by J.D.”
    “I don’t blame you. Must be hell in bars.” He handed back my