It’s been a long week after working at the firehouse in the small town of Britmore, Virginia. Not that there was a lot going on, in the small mountain town anyway. Parking his black truck in his driveway, he ran a hand through his hair. It was definitely time for him to relax and drink a nice glass of scotch.

He stepped out of the truck and stopped. There was a moving truck next door. Damn. He was not excited to have a new neighbor. Who’d want to live in this dreary town anyway?

He sighed crossing his arms. He turned swiftly and opened his front door, only to be greeted by with an extra large brown dog named Bear. He grabbed a leash and brought him out.

“If I’m gonna be friendly, I might as well walk Bear…” he grumbled, walking up to the open door of the house next door. He made note of the 1967 Chevy impala sitting in the driveway with an impressed hum. As he knocked on the open door, he waited for the type of person he expected to own one of those. Though, not you. Not you carrying a box to large for your body.

He coughed, “I’m your neighbor, Tucker Reeves. Fire chief, and this is Bear.” God, why was he nervous?