Hot As Blazes (3 page)

“Touchy.” She shook off the burn and savored her cold brew. “Jail time does things to a girl.”

“Vic was a prick.” He shrugged a shoulder. “Move on and try to find a happy place that might involve a decent guy.”

She hadn’t been truly happy since Dad died. Being separated from her brother and Ray only made her lonelier. Then she’d unknowingly gotten involved with a drug dealer. With her luck, the asshole would get out on a technicality. She stabbed her coleslaw as icy insecurity crept up her spine. “I am not looking for a man. What I need is a job with benefits. Playing lifeguard is only a short-term solution. I burned up my share of Dad’s insurance money to pay a lawyer and my last semester of college.”

“What about firefighting? The county has an academy starting this fall. Think about it, Jo. Being a lifeguard and firefighter has similarities. Both are physically demanding rescues in extreme conditions. You won’t be happy working in an office somewhere.” He waved his hand toward the ocean where she’d spent most of her life.

“Right.” An office equaled a jail with pretty walls.

“Ray said you held it together at the accident the other day.”

“Yeah.” Him being there helped. So he’d complimented her to her brother. She warmed. “The kid got lucky. Fighting fires might be a rush, but I can’t deal with seeing people mutilated on the highway.”
Like Dad.

“Well, there’s always the topless bait girl gig on the deep-sea fishing charters? I hear they get good tips.” He smirked.

“According to recent internet job searches, I don’t meet their qualifications. Only C cups and above need apply.” She pushed out her less than adequate bust.

“Too bad. You could cut bait with your tongue.” He flung a shrimp at her.

Jo snorted. “Alright, enough about me. Tell me about your woman.” She leaned in. “Whether you’re willing to admit it or not, a weekend away is serious for you.”

“She’s got brains, beauty, and is willing to put up with my job.” He leaned back and crossed his arms.

“What about love?”

His eyes darkened. “Look who’s talking. One day at a time.”

Jo pulled another beer from the cooler. “Any special plans for July fourth?”

“Mike is having a big bash at his new place at Corolla. It’s got three floors and an elevator. You know he’ll pull out all the stops.”

“Departmental party?”

“Always. Come with us. Put your face out there. Who knows, you might luck into a job.”

“Sure.” The disgraced sister surfer tagging along. What was a little more humiliation in front of the locals?

“Oh, before I forget. Can you do me a favor?” He stood.

“Sure.”

He went inside for a minute and returned with a small box. “Put this in your truck and drop it off at Ray’s place on your way home tomorrow, will you? I’ve got a meeting in Camden County all day.”

“Is this a set-up?” She frowned shaking the package. “What’s in it?”

“Condoms.”

It was too heavy. Even though she suspected Ray needed the Magnum variety. “Smart ass.”

“A fishing reel. Got a discount and free shipping for ordering two. Ray might want to try it out on
his
rod this weekend.” He arched a dark brow suggestively.

His cell phone chirped before she fired back a retort.

He glanced at the display. “It’s Sarah. Oh, yeah I forgot. Ray left a message on the answering machine. Don’t you answer your cell, or are you ignoring him?” He turned to head inside.

Maybe his interest went beyond waves and beer. Her pulse surged.

* * * *

Ready for pizza, Jo hopped into her truck after shift. The small white box Bobby asked her to take to Ray sat on the passenger’s seat. Use on his rod. Yeah, right
.
After a day of rescuing hardheaded tourists from rip currents, she concluded vacation turned people stupid.

Irritable and hungry she drove across the bypass. At the next signal light, she turned left and passed the new high school. Maybe she would have kids going there someday.

Small houses lined narrow streets. Some were vacation rentals. When had Ray moved from the stucco cottage around the corner from the beach house? After his mom moved up north with her new man, or had he given up the place when he shipped to Iraq?

He phone gave her directions as she hung the next right to a small cedar-sided house, newly remodeled. His Hummer sat in the driveway. A red Jeep and a small sedan with a serious case of cancer, a.k.a. rust, were parked out front on the street. She pulled in behind Ray’s ride and unbuckled her seatbelt.

The storm door opened as she slid from the truck. A bottle-blonde with a spray tan and recently glossed lips, slinked out. A flowery tattoo donned her bare shoulder “You looking for Craig or Ray?”

“Neither.” Jo gritted her teeth while clutching her little box.

“Don’t know what you’re missing.” She smirked over her shoulder as she passed.

The woman’s ass looked like a uni-butt in the stretch denim shorts. Jo would take her passé Levi cutoffs anytime.

Inside, a shower hummed. Ray should have his dates lock up when they leave. One never knew when a former felon might saunter in.

She almost asked if anyone was home, but dropped the package onto a counter separating the small living area from a galley kitchen. Pretty tidy place. Then again, maybe he offered extras for house cleaning.

The confrontation with the blonde relit old jealousy and she hated it.

Back inside her truck, she cranked the ignition. The dual exhaust rumbled as she rammed the shifter into reverse and stomped on the gas. She slammed the truck into drive making the tires bark. A sharp whistle caused her to slam on brakes.

Ray jogged over from his neighbor’s yard, wearing a worn, sleeveless T-shirt. Behind him, a pick-up truck sat with the hood up. A lady’s man and a mechanic.

“Were you going to leave without saying hello?” He propped his large paw on her driver’s door.

Hot need spiked through her traitorous body. She squirmed in her seat trying to ignore her dampening panties before straightening. “Bobby wanted you to have your new fishing reel for the weekend. It’s on the counter. Thought you were busy. I heard the shower running after I ran into big boobs on her way out.”

He flashed a grin. “Aww come on Jo, I’m an ass man and you know it.”

Most of his women did tend to have apple butts. Like hers. He’d never commented, but she’d caught him looking on occasion. “How could I have forgotten?”

“Miss Hooters is a friend of my roommate, Craig.” His grin melted into devilish smile. “I wasn’t invited to that party.” His cynical tone mocked as though he sensed her jealousy.

“Sounded like she might ask you next time.”

His blue eyes darkened. “Not my type. Thought you were going to invite me to surf and have a beer.”

“You know you’re welcome to drop by the house anytime.” She refused to play his flirting game. They weren’t in high school any more. Even if he was truly interested in her, he never kept a woman long. If he broke her heart, she’d never recover. Her foot slipped from the brake. “I gotta go.”

He stepped onto the running board and held onto the door. “Hold up.”

His sincere gaze weakened her resolve. Tired of rating as only a surf buddy and Bobby’s little sister, she glared at him. “What?”

“Nothing’s changed since high school. I still want to bend you over my knee, for being a brat.” He winked.

He knew how to push her buttons. And the little one between her legs ached to be stroked. “In your dreams—”

He ducked through the window, cupped her chin, and planted his lips against hers. His chin stubble rasped her skin in a wicked glide. She couldn’t resist and let him have his way.

His tongue teased her lips and found entry. She answered the mating as his fingers traced along her jaw. He tasted like aroused male and she wanted more. Wanted him to take her to heights she’d never known with a lover, but she’d never settle for being a notch on his headboard.

“So sweet.” His raspy voice jolted her from a semi-trance.

She sucked in a breath. “I really have to go.”

“Dahlin’, you better be at Mike’s party this weekend or I’ll come looking for you. And when I do, it’s going to take more than a kiss to satisfy me.”

Damned fireman. Now she knew for sure what she was missing.

After her early shift on the Fourth of July, Jo returned home and showered. As she shampooed her hair, Ray’s heated kiss still lingered on her lips and tongue. They’d kissed once before. After her father’s funeral, he’d kept the black hole of grief from swallowing her.

His recent kiss had held the same hungry desire. A desire she’d previously dismissed as circumstantial. Her body refused to forget his stroking fingers and tongue as she bathed. She slid her soapy hands between her thighs and imagined they were his. Her aching need bloomed under a delicate massage.

A car horned beeped outside of the cottage.

She cut the water, jumped from the shower and threw on her suit and shorts. After grabbing her backpack and beach hat, she bounded downstairs.

Bobby sat behind the wheel of a Mustang convertible with a waving brunette riding shotgun.

“Jo this is Sarah,” Bobby introduced them as Sarah opened the car door.

Jo climbed into the backseat. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too.” Sarah grinned. “So glad you could get off in time for the party.”

Independence Day traffic crawled on the winding two-lane through the small town of Duck while her brother’s girlfriend chatted her up as if they were best friends. Sadly, she happened to be her only female friend at the moment. A self-made woman from New York, Sarah had fallen in love with the Outer Banks while on vacation. She returned and opened a jewelry business and now lived in a prestigious section of Kitty Hawk.

Their handholding and lovey-dovey gazes mocked Jo’s current jaded sense of romance, but her heart swelled at her brother’s happiness. The police department had been his life after their father’s death.

Bobby parked a block away from a three-story mansion secluded in a cluster of dunes dotted with knurly live oak trees. Several pop-up canopies littered the sandy lot, offering small rectangles of shade and hydration in many forms. Two enormous wheeled cookers smoked in the late afternoon heat tempting guests with a variety of protein sustenance from swine and bovine to fowl.

Mike and his wife greeted them on the patio beneath the elevated beach house. While the guys caught up and the women complimented one another’s outfits, Jo ghosted for the beach. While passing one of the coolers, she stopped and snatched a couple brewskis before trekking to the top of a dune.

A line of bathing beauties gathered along the sidelines of a volleyball court boasting way too much testosterone. She picked an obscure spot with a view of the ongoing game.

After unrolling her beach towel, she shed her cutoffs. Her modest black bikini accented her legs, which had been voted best on the west coast surfing circuit. She’d have rather had more in the boobs department.

Ray stood on the court, shirtless and smoking hot. Tanned and glistening with sweat, she itched to run her fingers along his sculpted abs and lower. His team consisted of firefighters she recalled from the Broncosaurus versus bike incident.

Had he noticed her? He probably didn’t remember demanding her presence, or had another woman pining for his attention.

The game reminded her of when she played with Bobby, Ray and their gang. The girls at the net withered against the guys’ hard-core play. After match point, they hit the water. One of the female players swam out with Ray.

Jo waded beyond the breakers and floated in the building swells. If only she’d brought her surfboard. It’d be easier to talk to him while bobbing in the ocean, if he decided to look for her. Once again, she waited for him. This would be the last time, she swore in California she’d never play the waiting game again. Swimming for shore, she intended on downing the second beer in her bag.

Ray shaded her as she reached the water’s edge. Muscular shoulders tanned to perfection met sock solid pecs. His torso V’d into a six-pack outfitted in a pair of black trunks. If OBX had a best body calendar, he’d be the perfect cover model.

The wicked tribal tattoo encircling his brawny bicep begged to be touched.

“You hiding out?” Pale eyes probed over top his dark glasses as he nodded toward her spot and smiled.

“And laying low.”

“Sexy bikini. Sexier body in it.” He winked, slid his hand to the small of her back, and escorted her to her towel.

Heat coiled in her lower belly. The man always knew exactly what to say.

“We need players. You game?” he asked.

While an expert surfer, she was no slouch at volleyball after years of playing while waiting for waves. “Let me get a shirt from my bag.”

“No way, you’re our secret weapon with your hot body.” A grin spread across his handsome face.

She’d be his secret weapon any time.

* * * *

Ray loved catching her off guard and swore her nipples peaked at his compliment. His second brain went on alert at her reaction. Down boy.

The first serve rocketed toward her. She double-handed a setup to the player beside her, who spiked it over the net. The attack had a thin blonde diving into the hot sand to no avail.

With an overhand serve, Ray drove the ball deep into the left side court. An opposing player ricocheted it into the net, but his teammates failed recovery. He served another point before the ball stayed in play.

Jo proved her skills at net, not missing a single setup. The opposing team quickly modified their strategy moving their better players to the net. Teaming with her on volleyball reminded him of old times. Playing with the boys with not a care. Acting like the girl he’d known before California. Fearless.

How silly of him to believe he might sneak a peek of those fine cheeks or lovely breasts. Surfers, especially the pros, were masters at keeping their swimsuits in place. Her laughter made his heart soar.

They bowed out of the next game and took a quick dip to rinse away sweat and grit. At her perch on the dune, he sat beside her. “You still got it.”