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 barely 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