by Marie Force
“Maybe so, but it sounds like those times left a big impression—emphasis on big. If he’s six and a half feet tall, imagine how big he must be everywhere else.”
“Gigi! Stop!”
Gigi snorted with laughter. “Oh, please. Don’t act like you haven’t thought the same thing.”
Jordan didn’t mention that she’d been up close and personal with his “bigness” last night.
“After the dickless wonder, you’re gonna be getting you some of the good stuff with this one. That’s just what you need. A good, thorough f—”
“Shut it,” Jordan said, shifting to address the throb between her legs as she imagined where Gigi had been going with that.
“Have you kissed him?”
“Maybe.”
“Oh, I’m really loving this. I’m gonna have to come to your quaint little island in the middle of nowhere to check this guy out.”
“You know you’re welcome to come visit any time you want.” Jordan and Nikki had tried to get Gigi to come to the island with them for years when they were growing up, but she’d always said she’d be bored senseless in the middle of nowhere.
“I might have to finally take you up on that.”
“We’d love to have you. Gansett would never be the same with you here.”
“You know it. I’ll get that place rocking.”
Jordan laughed at the image of Gigi and her stilettos, fake lashes and fancy everything taking Gansett by storm. The place wouldn’t know what hit it. She was as LA as LA got. “Hey, Geeg?”
“What, honey?”
“Get me out of that marriage, will you please?”
“I’ll do everything I can.”
“Thank you.” They chatted for a few more minutes about the negotiations Gigi was handling with the network about the show, as well as other endorsement offers that had come in over the last few weeks.
“Do you think the network is going to let me go?”
“Eventually. They’re fighting back because the show is such a big hit for them, but as I said to them, your situation has changed, which would change the format of the show. I told them, you want what you had before, but after everything Jordan has been through, she’s not the same person she was.”
“And that’s entirely true.”
“They asked if you’d consider retooling the show to change up the format to better suit your new life.”
“They’d have to come to Gansett Island to shoot.”
Gigi laughed. “Can you even imagine that?”
“Gansett is beautiful. It would be a great place to set a show.”
“Good luck selling them on that. One thing we need to talk about before too much longer is posting something to give your fans news about how you’re doing. They’re going crazy speculating.”
“I’ll work on that this week.”
“Any more issues with the crazies?” That was the word they’d assigned to Brendan’s fans who’d threatened Jordan.
“Nothing recently, but I’m not monitoring the online shit.”
“I have been, and it seems to have died down.”
“That’s a relief.”
“It is, but it doesn’t mean it’s over and done with. You still need to be vigilant, especially since you let the security go.”
“I’m safe here. Don’t worry.”
“Keep that sexy firefighter close. He’ll keep you safe.”
Jordan felt warm all over as she remembered the way he’d lifted her onto the hood of his SUV and kissed her. The encounter had been one of the sexiest and most thrilling of her life, making her see that more than one thing had been missing in her marriage. As much as she’d loved Brendan, especially before he’d become Zane, he’d never set her on fire the way Mason did. And then she laughed to herself about the sexy firefighter setting her on fire.
“Nothing to say to that?” Gigi asked.
“I’m trying not to get too far ahead of myself on this, but I really like him.”
“That’s a good place to start.”
“It is, but I just wonder…”
“What?”
“Where can it go, Geeg? He lives on Gansett. He’s got a job and a life he loves here. My whole life is in LA.”
“Not your whole life. Nik is on Gansett, which is your favorite place in the world.”
“To visit in the summer. Not to live here all the time.”
“How do you know that until you do it?”
“Are you trying to get rid of me?”
“Not even kinda. But it’s been a long-ass time since you liked any guy who wasn’t what’s-his-fuckface. I want to meet this six-and-a-half-foot-tall firefighter of yours and kiss him on the lips for giving you something new to be excited about.”
Jordan laughed. “Keep your lips and every other part of your sexy self away from my firefighter.”
“And you’re already territorial where he’s concerned. I love this so much.”
“Am I crazy to like this guy, G?”
“No! I say go all in with him. It might be the best thing you could do for yourself.”
“But will it be the best thing I could do for him? He’s a really nice guy. Part of me wants to protect him from the shitshow that’s my life.”
“Your life was a shitshow. It’s not anymore.”
“I’d like to think that.”
“It’s safe to move on, J. I promise. We’re going to get you a divorce and figure out something to make the network go away. It’s all good. You do you. I got you covered over here.”
Jordan released a long deep breath. “Love you.”
“Love you, too. Keep me posted on the firefighter. I can’t wait to hear how big his di—”
“Gigi! Shut up!”
Gigi died laughing. “You want to know as bad as I do. Later, bitch.”
“Later.”
Jordan ended the call, laughing at Gigi’s outrageousness, which had always been part of her personality. It had only gotten worse over the years, and she was a big reason why the show had been such a hit. The fans freaking loved her and how she had zero filter. Gigi had been almost as important to Jordan as Nikki, who was also friends with Gigi. The three of them had been a squad, as they’d referred to themselves, taking LA by storm. They’d had tons of fun and gotten into more than a bit of trouble together. If Gigi said she had Jordan’s back, then her back was well covered.
Her phone chimed with a text from Mason, who’d given her his number last night when he brought her home after the best “ride” she’d ever taken with a guy. Thinking about you and counting the hours. Is it tonight yet?
Jordan’s heart gave a happy lurch at hearing he was thinking of her. She quickly typed in her reply. Can it be tonight before tonight?
Groan. I’ve got a full day, but I might be able to sneak out early. Will let you know.
She replied with the fingers-crossed emoji. And then added, Are you wearing the sling?
Yes, ma’am.
Good. Don’t take it off.
How you feeling?
Very, very good today.
That’s nice to hear. I’ll hit you up in a bit.
I’ll be here.
I can’t wait to kiss you again.
Same.
UGH, I hate my job!
No, you don’t.
Today I DO!
Jordan sent laughing emojis. Hurry up and get your work done.
I’m hurrying.
Jordan sighed as she put down the phone. This reminded her of high school and the heady excitement of first crushes, only this was so much better than that had ever been. Mason was a real man, a sexy, thoughtful, sweet, funny man who made her feel things she never had before. Today, she didn’t want to think of any of the problems waiting for her back home in LA. She didn’t want to think about Brendan or the divorce or anything other than how long she had to wait before she could see Mason again.
Suddenly, he was the only thing that mattered.
* * *
; Mason wasn’t going to survive this day. He’d been hit with one challenge after another since arriving at the station after an AA meeting. One of his newer firefighters had called out sick—again—another had the flu, and a third was showing signs of coming down with the same thing. The mayor had already called twice about his most recent payroll report, which had shown higher-than-normal overtime for this week in June. They’d responded to three calls, and it was only noon.
His plan to get out of there early wasn’t going so well. In spite of the chaos, he couldn’t stop thinking about Jordan and the time they’d spent together last night or how much he’d loved kissing her.
It was really hard to focus on incident reports and personnel training with thoughts of Jordan and her sweet lips occupying his every thought.
The clock seemed to move in reverse as he participated in a training Dermot ran on responding to alcohol-related incidents and the signs of alcohol poisoning, both of which were nearly daily occurrences during the summer months.
Mason was making progress on an early getaway when they were called to the bluffs to rescue a hiker who’d taken a bad fall. That was another thing that happened several times each year, people getting too close to the edge and having the land beneath them give way. A man had been paralyzed after a similar fall two years ago and others grievously injured in similar incidents.
In this case, the man had fallen about thirty feet and was clinging to a root that was the only thing stopping him from falling an additional hundred feet to the rocky coast below. His hysterical wife or girlfriend had been leaning over the edge of the bluff when they arrived. Pulling her back had been their first order of business.
They could get their equipment only so close to the edge of the land, which made these rescues that much more difficult and risky for his team. As he supervised the delicate operation, he wanted to scream with frustration because he couldn’t do a goddamned thing to help except supervise, thanks to his injured arm.
Dermot rappelled down the cliff to assess the man’s injuries and to get a line on him so he couldn’t fall any farther. “He’s got a possible broken right ankle,” Dermot reported by radio, “as well as a laceration on the back of his head.” Next, he put a cervical collar on the man and got him strapped onto the board that would be used to raise him. All this was a delicate and painstaking process that both Mason and Dermot had done many times before.
When the man was strapped in, Dermot gave the signal to begin winching both men back up the side of the cliff. As the backboard cleared the edge of the bluff, the man’s significant other ran over to him.
Mason held her back with his good arm. “It’s very important that we don’t move him any more than necessary until we can fully access his injuries.”
The young woman had a wild look to her tearstained face. “I just need to kiss him. Please.”
Mason nodded to Chris, the paramedic who was assessing the victim.
Crying hysterically, the woman kissed her partner, who was also in tears.
They’d had a close call that had been entirely preventable if they’d only adhered to the signs warning people to stay back from the edge.
Mason often wanted to ask them if the selfie had been worth the near disaster, but he bit his tongue so as not to pile on in the midst of a crisis. But he had the thought every time they rescued someone out there.
“What’re you thinking?” he asked Chris, who was assessing the patient.
“Not thinking we need the chopper. Let’s get him to the clinic and see what Dr. David thinks.”
The ambulance left with the man and his partner a few minutes later.
Dermot, who was still wearing the harness he’d donned to rappel down the cliff, approached Mason. “A matter of inches once again.”
“We’ve got to put more pressure on the town to get some sort of fence up out here.”
Residents had objected to doing anything that would impair the raw beauty of the rugged coastline, but something was going to have to happen to keep people from falling off on a regular basis. “I’ll broach it again with the mayor.”
“Good luck with that.”
No one was more opposed to the fence than Mayor Upton. “He’s not the one out here risking his own neck to save people who are too dumb to heed the warnings.”
“I’d hate to think that someone is going to have to die before they act,” Dermot said.
Though they’d had many close calls, they hadn’t lost anyone at the bluffs. Yet.
“I’m going to approach this another way,” Mason said. “We’ll get it done. Will you run by the clinic to check on how he’s doing and write it up?”
Dermot stepped out of the harness. “Will do.”
“Great job, Derm.”
“Thanks.” The younger man widely. “A good rappel always gets the blood pumping, especially when we save someone from certain death.”
“Makes it worth getting up in the morning, for sure.”
“That it does. See you back at the barn.”
Mason headed for his SUV, thankful for colleagues like Dermot who were willing to risk their own safety to save others. Being a first responder could be heartbreaking and exhilarating—often both at the same time. Knowing they had made a difference for the couple on the bluffs today made all the long hours and difficult moments worth it for people like Dermot and Mason, who’d become first responders because they wanted to help others.
As he drove toward North Harbor, Mason put through a call to Big Mac McCarthy.
“Hey, Mase. Heard you saved another one out at the bluffs.”
“You heard right. Are you at the marina?”
“Yep.”
“Mind if I stop by for a minute?”
“Course not. Come on over.”
“On my way.” He ended the call and hoped he wasn’t about to endanger his job by appealing to the president of the Gansett Island Town Council to do something about the increasingly more dangerous situation at the bluffs. Going around the mayor was never a good idea for a department head, but if the suggestion came from Big Mac rather than Mason, it was more likely to gain traction with Upton.
Playing politics was never his idea of a good time, but then, neither was fetching people who’d fallen off the side of a cliff. The metaphor wasn't lost on Mason, who was clinging to his own cliffside in this situation with Jordan. But even if he was on his way to an awful fall, he couldn’t seem to resist the danger she represented.
Danger had never been so much fun.
Chapter 13
He was almost to North Harbor when he took a call from Blaine on the Bluetooth. “What’s up?”
“Heard you pulled another one back from the brink.”
“Yep. As Dermot said, it was a matter of inches. Again. I’m on my way to the marina to talk to Big Mac. Upton isn’t going to do anything about it, but maybe if it comes from the council rather than us, that’ll make a difference.”
“Good call. Let me know how it goes with him.”
“I will.”
“I wanted to let you know that I got roped into helping out with my niece and nephews while Mac and Maddie take a break. I’ll be at their house but available if you need me for the rest of the week.”
“Yikes. Five kids.”
“And a wife who’s puking all day.”
“Damn.”
“It’s for a good cause. Mac and Maddie are super stressed out, and it’s really getting to them. Tiffany and Mac’s sister Janey hatched a plan to give them a break from it all.”
Mason had heard about the baby they’d lost a couple of years ago. “Good of you guys to do that. I’m around if anything comes up. Take care of your family.”
“Thanks, Mase. I’ll talk to you later, I’m sure.”
“No doubt.” They talked multiple times a day in season and covered for each other whenever one of them needed time off or had to be off-island for whatever reason. If there was one thing Mason knew for certain, it was that he wouldn’t w
ant to do this job without Blaine Taylor as his partner in all things public safety.
He was fairly confident Blaine felt the same way. He was also thrilled to have added Blaine’s brother Deacon to their team when he joined Blaine’s department as the summer harbor master. Deacon was a seasoned law enforcement professional who’d brought a wealth of knowledge to the island after having worked for the Boston Police Department. And, not for nothing, the brothers were hilarious together, as they constantly pushed each other’s buttons.
Mason pulled into the parking lot at McCarthy’s Gansett Island Marina, which was quiet for a weekday in June. By Friday, just about every spot in the marina would be filled with boats and people looking forward to a weekend on Gansett.
With his distinctive mop of gray hair, Big Mac McCarthy was easy to find. At six-four, he was one of the few men Mason encountered on a regular basis who was almost as tall as him. Big Mac spotted him coming and walked toward him from the main dock, where he’d been conversing with a boater. He wore a faded Gansett Island T-shirt with khaki shorts, boat shoes and sunglasses.
He reached out to shake hands with Mason. “Always good to see you, Chief.”
“Likewise.”
“How’s the arm?”
“It’s a pain in the ass.”
Big Mac laughed. “Worst thing I ever went through was having to keep an arm immobile for weeks on end.”
Mason would never forget the day they’d nearly lost Big Mac in an accident at the marina. “I’m hoping it heals quickly, because the sling is a drag.”
“Can I buy you a coffee?”
“I won’t say no to that.” He followed Big Mac into the marina restaurant and stirred cream into the coffee Big Mac poured for both of them. “Doughnut?”
“Don’t tempt me. I’m not working out while my arm is screwed up.”
“You can have one. Doctor’s orders.” He brought a plate of the marina’s famous sugar doughnuts to a table and sat across from Mason. “What’s going on?”
Mason told him the details of the latest rescue at the bluffs.
Big Mac swore under his breath. “What is wrong with people that they get close enough to the edge to fall off?”
