by Dani Jace
“You trust me to make coffee?”
“Barely.” A smile seeped through his tone. “I’ll be there in a few.”
Grabbing her board, she rushed for the house. After starting the coffee, she towel dried her hair and headed for her closet. She thumbed through the sparse variety and frowned. To say she wasn’t a clothes horse was a gross understatement. Then again, she had lived most of her life in a swimsuit.
Quickly, she turned for the dresser and opted for a pair of board shorts and a spaghetti tank shirt. Rather than fuss with her unruly curls, she twisted them up with a couple of combs. She’d washed her face and brush her teeth before dual exhaust bellowed in the driveway.
Ray breezed into the kitchen wearing cargo shorts, construction boots and a worn Ducks Unlimited T-shirt minus the sleeves. His bicep flexed as he held the box of Krispy Kremes. A Sonic bag dangled from the fingers of his other hand.
She snatched the doughnuts.
“A hundred dollar tip didn’t get me anywhere. I should have thought of sweets, instead.” He grinned.
“I deserved that.” She arranged their breakfast on a tray, poured him a cup of coffee, and shoved the oversized mug into his hand.
Yesterday seemed dreamlike, yet she still felt his warm and protective embrace. The masculine taste of his lips. She followed him to the deck.
He sank onto a deck chair and sipped on his coffee while staring at the ocean.
His reflective, man of few words, mood stirred her curiosity.
* * * *
Ray relaxed onto the Adirondack, already warmed by the September sun. Surf conditions made him wish he could stay. God, he loved this place. He’d grown up on this beach and was more at home here than anywhere. After Cappy died and Jo left for college, the place reminded him of those lost. He and Bobby took to having brews at Papagayos, but he missed hanging here almost as much as he had missed Jo.
During her absence, he’d decided it was for the best he hadn’t been allowed to love her like he wanted. He’d sowed his wild oats, and in the process, realized his heart truly belonged only to her. His hopes had risen when she returned, only to be dashed. He’d felt like a man dying of thirst with a cold beer in reach but no easy open top or opener.
“A couple of four footers every set. I was riding when you called. Too bad you can’t stay. Where’s your side job?” She eyed him while breaking apart a chocolate glazed doughnut.
“One of the guys on C-shift is redoing his deck. It’s an easy hundred and free beer.”
“Dad was always doing side work.”
“It’s the only way to keep up with the bills. So how did you sleep?” He flipped up his shades and studied her. “I was worried about you.”
She licked her lips and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “Like a baby.”
Envisioning her snuggled in his hoodie, he took a bite of his breakfast burrito and chewed. “Tell me you slept in it.”
She glanced away. “Maybe.”
He cleared his throat. “I’ll get it when I leave.”
“It needs washing.” She whined before frowning.
Her little girl tone tickled him. Stroking her cheek, he said, “Nope, it’s going to be my new pillow case.”
“Careful, women don’t like to catch the scent of another female.”
He’d kick Bobby or whoever’s ass for mentioning his lunch with the nurse. His captain’s request for a favor couldn’t have come at a worse time. He should tell her, but she didn’t trust him. An arranged date, favor or not, would have her scampering away faster than a rabbit in a forest fire. He balled the burrito paper and tossed it onto the tray. “Christ, Jo.”
She put her coffee down and bit her lip.
“I’m not who I was in high school.”
Hadn’t he made his intentions clear since she returned home? He’d teased and flirted during their high school days. Maybe he was to blame for her insecurity with men. The idea startled him. Then Vic had probably reinforced her distrust. His stomach churned. He never wanted to cause her pain.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”
Slipping to the edge of his seat, he took her hands. They disappeared in his large palms. “Won’t you give me a chance to prove it?”
She quit chewing her lip and smiled.
“I know finding work is your immediate goal, but I’m a patient man.”
She held his gaze. “If you have time, come by this weekend and let’s surf.”
She still didn’t believe he’d make time for her. The pressure would be off while they rode the swells. “Absolutely.” Standing, he drew her up with him.
Rolling onto her bare toes, she grazed her lips along his lips.
Their soft sweetness spiked his pulse into overdrive. Her tropical scent reminded him of days on the beach. He closed his arms around her. Soft but strong her body tempted him. He longed to show her how much he loved her. That he could be trusted.
“Thanks for breakfast and being worried about me.” Her pouty bottom lip begged for another kiss.
“I never stopped missing you, Jo.” His hands settled on her waist.
“If you’d told me, I would’ve taken the next plane home.”
“You needed to fulfill your dream.”
Her head bowed. “I only proved I’m small-town and gullible.”
The pain in her words lashed his heart. “You’re smart and witty, and I love that you’re a small-town girl.”
“I know you wanted to come out to help, but I couldn’t bear you knowing at the time. Plus, I needed to fix my mess.”
He gave her a you’re so stubborn look. “I love you, Dahlin’. God knows you’re tough, but sometimes you’ve got to call in the big dog.” He drew her tight.
She blinked. “I love you too, Hemanus. Cause you’re way too handsome to be a big dog.”
“What’s a Hemanus?” he asked with a laugh.
“A guy who’s a total package.”
He’d show her a brand of Hemanus he bet she’d never imagined.
* * * *
Jo kept pace with Harley during the last mile along the beach. She should have called Ray to help her train, but she didn’t want him to know until she’d made the cut. Harley knew the mind games to push her past her limits. After four miles, they crested the dune in front of the cottage.
Ray stood on the running board of his truck unhitching his surfboard.
“Yo, man.” Harley raised a dark brow coming to a halt.
Ray nodded, eyes shielded beneath his shades. “How’s business?”
His hard-edged tone made Jo flinch. Tension rolled off the men in waves.
“Steady, haven’t seen you in for a beer lately. Hope my new bartender didn’t piss you off. She’s got a tongue like a razor.” He glanced at Jo, baring a grin.
Ray cocked a brow and peeled off his T-shirt. “Yeah, I’ve got the scars to prove it.”
After a beat, both men broke into laughter.
“Hello…right here.” She joked, glad things between them had cooled down.
“Later,” Harley called back, climbing into his four-by-four truck.
“How’s the surf?” Ray leaned his board against one of the house pilings.
“Picking up.” She debated telling him why she went running with Harley.
“Sorry, I should’ve called first. You did say to stop by this weekend and ride a few.”
She smiled. “No, it’s fine. Let me get on a suit.”
Upon her return, she found Ray buffing a fresh coat of wax on their boards. His tanned chest and the deep cleft between his pectorals drew her attention. Her gaze wandered to his rippling abs and happy trail below. His low-slung trunks accentuated chiseled hips, making her mouth water.
How much she wanted him scared her. She’d loved him like a brother until her interest in boys changed to more than just being surfing buddies and friends. He said he’d be patient and if she made it into the academy, she’d ba
rely have time for a relationship.
Neither spoke until they straddled their boards in deep water, waiting for a set.
“What’s with you and the SEAL?” His monotone advertised his displeasure.
“He’s helping me.”
“With what?” Ray lanced her with a hard stare.
His jealousy thrilled her until guilt quelled her high. If she didn’t fess up about the academy, he might think she had intentions for Harley. “Train for the CPAT.”
His mouth dropped open. “Shit, Jo. It’s not like I haven’t done it.”
“I didn’t want to tell you until my application had been accepted. I still won’t know for a few more days, but I’ve got to be ready.”
“Does this have something to do with your dad?” His brows furrowed.
“Did it for you?” She mimicked his expression.
His jaw tightened. “With your physical education degree, you could go into teaching, or physical therapy.”
“I’d have to be willed a job in P.E. in this county and you know it. Physical therapy will take another year or more, and I don’t have the patience to baby-sit rehab patients. I’ve done the math. This is a logical answer.”
He scanned the beach appearing lost in thought.
“So what do you think? Be honest. Can I cut it?”
He scrutinized her. “You’ve hauled quite a few out of the drink. Including me, once. You’re stubborn as hell and you never back down from a challenge. Yeah, I’d crawl through a burning building with you.”
His subtle wink almost melted her bones. “That sounds kinky.”
“You have no idea.”
“Sounds like something for Nancy Nurse.” He had never confirmed or denied the allegation and she wanted, no, needed an answer.
His blue eyes darkened in warning. “She’s my captain’s daughter. Plus, having lunch is not sex or even dating. I’m waiting for you. And don’t believe Harley is helping you from the goodness of his heart. SEALS never retire, and they always have an agenda.”
“What’s with you two, anyway?” She leaned toward him and punched his arm like she used to do when they were kids. Harley had been mute on their history, as well. “A big dog pissing match?”
“He has dark tastes, and female employees are at the top of his menu.”
“Whoa, he’s my boss. Besides, I’m not into whips and chains.”
Lowering his head, he eyeballed her. “After few days in the academy, S & M will seem like light recreation. Just remember, I’m happy to provide full body massages.”
With another wink, he paddled out to catch an approaching swell. With the infinite grace of years of practice, he pushed to a crouching position, then stood for a smooth ride on a nice four-footer taking him nearly to shore.
A full body massage sounded like heaven. The fire in her belly spread and descended between her legs. Kinky with a Hemanus sounded like an opportunity of a lifetime.
* * * *
Later in the week, Jo held her breath while scanning the county’s academy web roster on her laptop. Her name appeared midway on the list. Prayer, answered, she messaged Ray and Bobby.
The morning of the written exam she inhaled a light breakfast, then sped to the training facility. A ninety-minute commute would be her daily drive for twenty-five weeks, if she passed.
The classroom barely held all applicants when their test began at eight AM sharp. Having recently graduated from college, she felt confident answering the English and math problems. Thanks to being raised by a fire captain and reviewing some of his books, she believed she aced the questions relating to firefighting.
After testing, she took opportunity to check out the physical abilities CPAT course before scheduling a time. Inside the large building, another woman stood eying the course. She looked to be mid-thirties, with spiky, blond hair. In a guy’s vocabulary, built like a brick shithouse. Jo didn’t remember seeing her during the written exam, but there were nearly forty other brains firing synapses in the large room.
“I’m Tami.” She faced Jo and extended her hand.
“Joanne. Jo for short.” She returned an equally firm grip.
“Up for a trial run?” Her new acquaintance raised a brow.
“Sure.”
They took a few minutes and ran through each evolution hoping to uncover any weakness that might cause them to fail completion within the required time.
“How about we make appointments and take the test back-to-back.” Tami’s twang sounded local born and bred.
“Sounds good, how about Thursday?” Jo hoped a few extra days of running would increase her speed and stamina.
Tami smiled. “Do or die, babe.”
She had no idea.
* * * *
The morning of the test, Jo’s phone chirped with a text from Ray. You’re the strongest woman I know! You got this. Love you, Dahlin’!
His thoughtfulness and belief in her helped calm her nerves. One step closer to everything she desired.
At their appointed time, Tami flipped a coin to see who would run the course first. Jo lost. She’d have to compete all evolutions within the ten-minute time limit.
She donned a fifty-pound vest simulating the weight of a firefighter’s gear. After a prayer, she stepped onto the stair climber for three minutes, maintaining a pace of sixty steps-per-minute. Her legs burned with lactic acid by the time the tester blew his whistle.
Hustling seventy-five feet to the second event, she dragged a fire hose the required distance, and proceeded to the next station, the equipment carry.
One at a time, she removed two types of gas-powered saws from their bins and carried both several yards around a drum and back.
Still pumped with energy, she jogged to the ladder raise where she grasped a rung of the twenty-four foot extension ladder. Careful not to miss a rung and fail the event, she walked it up the wall, extended the fly section and lowered it in the same manner before returning to the starting position.
At the simulated forcible entry event, she swung a ten-pound sledgehammer at a mechanized device that measured cumulative force until a buzzer sounded.
Breathing hard and concerned about time, she dropped to her hands and knees at the maze and kept her shoulder to the wall of the narrow crawl space. The sixty-five foot tunnel reduced in size midway. She worked through the mild claustrophobia imagining Vic chasing her.
En route to the next event, she found her second wind and dragged a dummy weighing one hundred and sixty pounds for thirty-five feet. After rounding a barrel, she returned to the start line. Her back screamed nearly as loud as the tester did for her to advance to the final station―the breach and pull.
Nearly at a run when she grabbed a six-foot pike poll. She rammed it upward with all her might. Three times, she popped a sixty pound, hinged door. Then with the hook of the pole, she tugged on the eighty-pound device five times.
The tester yelled, motioning her out of the testing box while clicking his stopwatch. “Nine minutes, forty-five seconds.”
Her oxygen-deprived brain failed to compute.
Tami’s frantic hopping finally registered.
“Whoo! Hoo!” Jo jumped with glee. She’d only been more proud when she won the East Coast Surfing Championships. All the adversity she had faced in the past year faded to black.
She set the chronometer on her cell phone as Tami bolted from the starting line. Her new friend appeared faster in completing the events until she entered the maze. A pale Tami emerged and made up time on the dummy drag. By the time she stepped into the box and rammed the pike poll, she had less than thirty seconds.
Tami exited the evolution sucking air like a mullet.
“Time! Nine minutes, fifty seconds.”
Jo grinned and handed her a bottle of water from her backpack. “Now if we’ve passed the written exam, we’re good to go.”
Hesitantly, they approached the wall beside the exam room door and scanned
the list for their identification number.
Tami found hers first. “Holy Gawd!” She let out a long whistle.
Jo sank to her knees, running her finger along the numbers with her heart pounding and tears forming in her eyes.
“Oh hell, tell me those are happy tears?” Tami knelt beside her.
Jo nodded, and pointed.
“Shit, don’t scare me like that―I need a drink.” She ran a hand through her short hair.
“Me, too.” Jo felt like a frayed wire.
Back in her truck, she texted Ray and Bobby as reality sank in. Seven months of rigorous training and studying lay before her. She turned up the radio and smiled.
Should be a picnic compared to a dirty jail cell in California.
Chapter 11
Jo stepped into the regional fire training facility at six-forty-five AM sharp and took a seat at one of the desks. Tami arrived a few minutes later and sat next to her. Of the nearly thirty in her class, only six were women. Half of the candidates were already volunteer firefighters.
Their instructor greeted the class with the warmth of a marine drill sergeant. A couple of younger candidates sat bug-eyed and pasty-faced. Tami leaned back in her chair like no big deal. Jo compared it to her night in jail and did the same. She’d proven her innocence in California. She’d prove herself worthy as a firefighter.
After the stern initiation, they were issued books and other materials. The daily physical training would be extensive. On the fun side, she’d get a lot of fire play and she could eat her fill of food if she had energy left to pick up a fork.
Next, she and her classmates received matching sweats and tees and set outside for PT. Jo kept pace pumping out fifty push-ups, determined not to fail before veteran softball player, Tami.
After a three-mile run, she finished midway in the pack without heaving like some others. As the morning wore on, her muscles voiced their discontent.
Lunch gave them a welcome relief.
“So you live on The Banx, too?” Tami opened her mini cooler as they sat at one of the tables in the lunchroom.
“On the beach road. Next to The Post grocery.” She popped the top on her diet soda.
