Hot As Blazes (9 page)

“Sir?” She frowned. What the fuck did that mean?

“Four years of college and pro surfing, only to come back and take up where your old man left off.”

If he meant to offend her, she refused the bait. “My dad was an excellent firefighter. I will never compare to him.”

“You started off right, volly. You thought to have water on hand.” He patted the top of her helmet then headed to his crew. “Got his spunk too, kid,” he said over his shoulder.

Clouds stretched like dark fingers claiming the remaining daylight. The Broncosaurus lumbered home as Jo digested the call and the captain’s comment. A message left at the house invited her to dinner with Bobby and Sarah. She politely declined, preferring a hot shower.

She built a Caesar salad and poured a Jack on the rocks before hitting the couch in front of the big screen with her EMT study guide. Her cell phone startled her to the tune of
Fire
. Her heart started a mad gallop. “Hey.”

“How was your first call?” Ray asked.

“Who’s your informer?”

“Tommy. He’s the driver on our truck. Today he had a swing shift at Roanoke Island. He remembered me loaning you my coat at the bike incident. Now he knows you’re Bobby’s sister.”

“Word travels fast.”

“The water was a nice touch. Just so you know, next time they’re expecting cookies, too.” His light exhale sounded like a smile.

“I’m still waiting for a massage,” she said saucily.

“Hmm…Are you sure you’re ready?”

“Are you?” She pushed the envelope, with whiskey courage sweeping through her limbs like her desire for him.

Ray growled low in his throat.

Taking advantage of the silence, she brought up Thanksgiving. “You may already have plans, but Sarah’s cooking Thanksgiving dinner next week. There’ll be plenty to eat. We’d love to have you.”

“You’re only helping, right?”

He’d never trust her cooking skills. “Yeah, like taking stuff out of the can.”

“I may have to work. I’ll check the schedule and let you know. Nice going on the volly call, Dahlin’. Keep up the good work.”

Her heart sank. It’d been a long time since she’d spent the holidays with those she loved.

* * * *

A week’s worth of boring ride-a-longs and Ray’s non-committal reply about Thanksgiving dinner left Jo in a foul mood. After her partial shift at Papagayos, she hurried to meet Sarah at the grocery store.

“You look frazzled.” Sarah grabbed a cart as they walked inside.

Jo swept her hair up, tying it in a knot. “Busy week. My pillow is calling.”

“What about Ray?

“Huh?”

“Is he coming for Thanksgiving?” Only her intense hazel eyes gave evidence of her real interest.

Why’d she care if Ray was coming? Maybe he’d decided his captain’s daughter was less schizoid. “He might have to work.” She dropped two cans of yams in the basket. “Or maybe he’s got another offer.”

“Doubt it. He keeps calling you, girl.”

“What about Bobby and you? Any extended plans?” She changed the subject as they wound around the produce section.

“We’re taking it one day at a time. He’s still worried about you. Says Cali has affected your outlook.” She picked up a head of collards.

“God, Sarah. If you guys get married or move in together, I’ll be fine.” He’d kept his life on hold long enough. “And Bobby doesn’t like greens.”

“He’ll learn.” She grinned. “Should I ask him to call Ray about dinner?” Her southern sweet smile warned of matchmaking.

“Please don’t. No big deal.” Just her heart.

* * * *

Saturday night after closing, Jo hung the last of the washed glasses. “What were the spooks doing back?”

“What spooks do best.” Harley’s deep voice boomed though the empty bar as he sat at the back tallying the register.

She tensed as he rose and stepped behind the bar.

“Listen, Jo, there’s something you need to know, but it’s gotta stay between us. You understand? No telling Bobby or Ray.” His mouth set in a hard line.

She sensed bad news. “Got it.”

“The spooks are DEA.” He eyed her.

Her heart froze mid-beat.

“Seems there are some new players on the local drug scene. I play CI, confidential informant, for them from time to time.” His eyes turned molten, burning through her.

Her knees wobbled. Nausea hit her like a rogue wave. Leaning against the bar for support, she scraped a hand across her face. It sounded like something Vic would do, stir trouble and add her name to the mix. “Tell me I’m not their suspect?”

Harley stepped closer. “They’ve been checking your e-mails, texts, voicemails. And following you. I didn’t figure you for the source, but they had to follow-up, especially since the Ecstasy drops started right after your return.”

“That’s why you offered me the job, isn’t it?” Jesus! She’d been under a microscope. Bile inched to the back of her throat. God, it was happening again.

“DEA got a tip on you. Lucky me, you just happened in and needed a job. Normally, I’d have asked you for a date, slipped you a happy pill and taken you to bed. Where you would’ve told me everything.”

“Confident fuck.” She pushed away and pinned him with a hardened glare. She started for the exit.

“I liked you, Jo, the minute you came in for a beer. Having you work here, I obtained all the information they needed with the least damage to you. And honestly, I needed a weekend bartender.”

She sucked at reading people anymore. As she reached the door, a different dread seeped into her consciousness. She skidded to halt and faced him. “Do you think someone was trying to set me up?”

If the DEA wasn’t watching her anymore, then who had they turned their sights on?

“All I know is you’re off the radar. Watch your six. Inmates do amazing shit, even from a cell. Especially if they’ve got someone on the outside who’s computer savvy. I’ll try to dig deeper, but you’ve got to…” He motioned across his mouth to zip lips. “And I mean no one.”

The next morning, Jo sipped coffee on the deck, using the waves as her pathway to Zen hoping to dispel her bizarre dreams. Harley’s clarification session weighed heavy in her cortex. Her cell rang to Ray’s tone. “Lo.”

“What can I bring Thursday?”

The deep timber of his voice banished her burdening thoughts.
Just your hot self
. “The massage you promised me.”

“Scented oil and some wine good? What are you doing now? Interested in some training?”

“What kind?”

He chuckled. “Maybe I should get more creative. How about some stairs and you can practice dragging a hose?”

“Whose hose?” She giggled. “When and where?”

“Now. The high school stadium.”

Already in sweats, she grabbed her keys and had the Bronco on the by-pass speeding for her alma mater. She needed some distraction. The more physical the better. Having a hot looking trainer couldn’t hurt.

Pulling into the parking lot, she found him leaning against his Hummer, dressed in black sweats and matching hoodie, he looked like a wall. One she’d like to climb and ride.

He caught her appraising glance, and he grinned. “Let’s go.” The crisp air formed smoke from this breath as he sprinted up the stadium stairs, leaving her to trail him.

She caught his linebacker form, picked up his rhythm, and maintained. On the third rotation, her foot slipped on a slick aluminum step slamming her shin into the step above.

Imagining a splintered bone, she pushed past the pain and finished at his heels.

“It’s a shame you didn’t play college football.” With hands on her hips, she leaned over catching her breath.

“Only the quarterback was offered a scholarship on this sandbar, and my grades weren’t good enough for one in academics.” He turned for the track and set a comfortable pace for her.

He would have been an awesome tight end, but college cost money his mother didn’t have. Jo only made it to college courtesy of a private surfing scholarship offered by a rich man in California who had lost his daughter in a surfing accident.

After two miles, they returned to his truck. He opened the back gate and tossed a roll of old fire hose onto the ground. Then rolled a trash drum a few yards out. She’d love to see him in firefighter mode. She’d trust no one more. She needed to let go of past perceptions and trust him as a lover.

* * * *

Ray had vowed to stay away from Jo until Thanksgiving. Determined not to distract her until she’d acclimated to the academy, he’d only called to see how she was doing. His patience had worn thin. This morning, he had to lay eyes on her. He should have joined her surfing but he didn’t trust himself alone with her at the beach house. Training provided quality time with her without the temptation of pushing her to a physical level he doubted she was ready.

“Just like you did on the CPAT test,” he instructed. “Drag the hose seventy-five feet to the barrel. Pull it around at ninety degrees and then drag it another twenty-five feet. Drop to one knee and pull fifty feet of hose. It’s a lot heavier when filled with water, not to mention wilier. I’ve seen it toss the biggest guys in the air if the engine operator sets the gauges too high.”

She followed his instructions. By the fourth time, she’d perfected the technique. He kept tension on the hose with his foot to simulate the weight of a full line. Though the air temperature hovered at forty-five degrees, she was drenched beneath the heavy bunker gear.

“Firefighters are always sweating.” He smirked.

She continued the drill until he called a time-out.

“Time for some water.”

At his truck, she chugged a bottle of water in seconds. “If only I could drag the hose as fast.”

“You didn’t learn to surf in a day.” He removed his toboggan and guzzled some water. Then caught her staring. “Everything okay?”

“I like your hair short. And this.” Her fingers traced alone his stubbled jawline.

The way her eyes lit up enticed him. He latched onto her fingers and brought them to his lips “And I’m glad you left yours long.”

Her bashful smile lite her face. “Do you think I can do this job when the time comes?”

Flipping his shades to the top of his head, he squinted. “You’ll make it. How’s your shin?”

“Throbbing.”

“Let’s see.” He picked her up by the waist and seated her in the back of the truck. She groaned as he drew up her heavy Gore-Tex pant leg.

“Ouch.” He frowned. “You got a goose egg. Such a tough girl.” He grazed her injury with an easy touch.

He snagged a water bottle from the cooler and secured it around her leg with a sprain band from his gear bag.

She touched his shoulder. “Always a prepared firefighter. Thanks.”

He wanted to be there for her, whatever she needed. At times, guilt plagued him for not flying out to California when she’d lost her scholarship. Damn, it was hard knowing how much to push with Jo. He could hardly believe she let him tend her leg. He stepped back and shrugged from his bunker coat.

“Okay, I gotta know. What the hell do you bench-press?” She grinned.

“Let’s just say you’d only be an easy warm-up set.”

“Hmm. Am I doing the right thing, Ray?”

He cocked his head. “What do you mean?”

“I can’t compete with you muscle guys. If I can’t be decent at being a firefighter, I’d rather not give my gender a bad rap.”

“It’s not all about brawn.” He sat next to her. “You need to be physically fit, but even more, you have to keep a level head. Some of the best firefighters are instinctive. Women are intuitive. You were never afraid of the ocean. You respect it and you’ll do the same when confronting old man fire.”

“I can’t say I won’t worry about you, though. Things can go wrong fast. Fires can be as deceiving as the ocean. Some calls are like three-footers, slow and easy, but can swell up to a six-foot swell. Then before you know it, you’re in a pipeline of fire in seconds. You gotta promise me you’ll always be on your toes and be careful.”

“No hotshot antics.”

“Only after you’ve been at it for twenty years. Still, you have to stay with your partner at all times.” He wrapped his arm around her waist. “Baby, you are everything to me.”

“Ditto, Hemanus.” She laid her head against his shoulder.

He skimmed his lips over her cheek. Brought her mouth to meet his and offered a tender kiss. Would his dreams of her come true? Loving her? Being loved by her?

He stood and drew her with him. Somehow he’d learned to deal with her running into burning buildings. “How about some breakfast, Dahlin’?” He shot her a wink.

* * * *

If her buff firefighter hadn’t had a side job with one of his crewmates, Jo would have invited him to hang out for a lazy afternoon. She doubt it would it have remained so with them alone in the house. He definitely could have helped with her anatomy quiz.

A couple of hours later, Tami called, interrupting her study session. “Let’s go to The Casino tonight. The Stingrays are playing.”

The band played music more to Tami’s age group, but Jo needed a diversion. Ray filled her head more than she wanted and Harley’s revelation had her suspicions on high alert.

With Thanksgiving on Thursday, she could manage a night out.

She met her at the entrance and they lucked into two seats at the main bar on the ground floor near the stage. Tami’s kids were visiting their dad, and she had planned a cock hunt. Jo agreed to play designated driver and evaluator of the applicants.

A few Papagayos regulars were among the audience. She introduced Tami to Don, a tall lanky firefighter from a town called Grandy, who took first interest as cock for the night. After Tami’s nod of approval, Jo relinquished her seat.

The band started their second set of classic rock, and she moved upstairs for a better view. A few tables with video consoles hosted a crowd more her age.

She raised her hand at the standing room only bar. A young male bartender nodded as she shouted her order. A couple at the bar joined another pair at a table and she quickly snagged a seat. Seconds later, a broad shouldered, still in shorts, surfer dude sidled onto the chair next to her.

“Joann Mercer, surfer extraordinaire,” he proclaimed.