Fighting Fire with Fire
Straight to Lesbian
Straight-girl Krista saves Nicky the welder’s German Shepherd from an RV fire and offers her a place to stay for the night. Nicky misreads Krista’s tipsy campfire chatter for flirting and kisses her, sending Krista running. But when Nicky leaves the campground without warning, Krista realizes how sweet her first lesbian kiss was, and she fights to find Nicky so she can explore her feelings. And Nicky’s body.
As I plunked into my chair, the campground owner arrived with Jupiter's leash. He handed it to me and turned his attention on the dog. "There you are, Jupiter! Oh, yes. Jupey had a bad morning, didn't he?" He rubbed his hands roughly over the dog, making the tail wag right in my face. After the third mouthful of tail fur, I stood.
"Does the owner know yet?" I asked.
"We called the job site, but we had to leave a message. Those guys work until dark every night."
"Which guys? What do they do?"
"Welders on the pipeline. It's their fuckin' trucks that are tearin' up my roads. Three of 'em, right in a row." He gestured toward the burnt-up camper.
"So where is this one going to stay?" I imagined for a moment a hot bod—shirtless with chiseled abs and wearing a welding mask.
"Probably with one of the guys." His face scrunched up for a second. "Although, that might be a little awkward—" His cell phone rang, and he walked away in mid-sentence.
I yelled after him, "I'm not really a dog person," but he didn't answer. I was stuck with the monster, at least for the afternoon. "I guess we're gonna hang out awhile, Jupiter. Don't bite me, okay?" His tail kept wagging while I clipped the leash to his collar. I looked at his tags. "Good. Your rabies shot is up to date. That's good to know, isn't it?" Great. I was talking to the dog as if he were a person. "And here's your owner: Nicky McDonald." I petted him for a minute, trying to imagine what Nicky looked like. Rough, tough, probably muscular. I smiled to myself and walked Jupiter back to my chair. He lay down in the shade under the chair, and I returned to my sexy welder daydream.
* * * *
While I lit my campfire, I rehearsed what I'd say to Nicky the Welder. Hi! I'm Krista. I saved your dog! Ugh. That's the kind of thing Pimple Face would have said to get a date. I told myself to tone it down.
I'm so sorry about your camper. Here, I cooked you a steak! The way to a man's heart is through his stomach, right? Maybe the steak will go over so well, he'd sweep me into his arms and carry me to the bunk in my pop-up. When he bent to kiss me, he'd ask me who saved his dog. Just before our lips met, I'd bat my eyelashes and murmur, "I did." And we'd live happily ever after.
I'd have to do better than that.
Jupiter's happy bark shattered my reverie, and a candy-apple red welding truck pulled up in front of my site. The tinted windows hid the driver from view, and my heart pounded in my chest, anticipating the big reveal. The door finally opened, and work boots hit the ground. Jupiter knocked over the folding chair that held his leash, and he ran to his master. I smiled, hoping I looked friendly and welcoming, not like a stalker.
The next thing I knew, Jupiter was bounding toward me, stopping to look back to make sure the welder was following. He stepped out of the truck and closed the door. My smile wilted.
Nicky the Welder was a woman.