Authors: Dani Jace
After her shift, she stopped for a last minute liquor pick-up for Harley. She wheeled her truck around back and dropped the gate. The former SEAL appeared from nowhere. She swore he was stealth.
“Big crowd already,” he said, unloading cases. “And they’re not here for the holiday.”
She searched his eyes. “Somebody die?”
“Firefighter.”
Her heart stopped mid-beat. Dark spots filled her vision. Please…no one she knew. Oh God, not Ray. No, Bobby would have called her.
“Old timer,” he clarified.
She exhaled slowly.
“Stan Parks.”
“Shit.” She swiped a hand over her forehead.
“You knew him?”
“Dad and Stan were probies together. Had he retired?” A familiar panic rose in her throat.
“Was going to at the end of the year. Heart attack took him. Lots of fire boys already here knocking back cold ones in salutation. You should make big tips.” He hoisted a case of liquor onto a shoulder.
“Not the way I want to make money.” Her limbs went cold while following him inside.
Bobby sat at the bar in plain clothes. He wore a frown and searched her with glazed eyes as she slipped behind the counter. She nodded as he raised his glass.
Scanning the patrons for Ray, she realized she’d lost sight of the fragility of life. Both he and her brother put their lives on the line every day.
As the night wore on, firefighters and police crowded the small bar to pay respects and remember a lost brother. Guilt for not already accepting Ray’s apology along with the firefighters’ camaraderie set Jo on an emotional roller coaster.
Later in the evening, Sarah squeezed Bobby’s shoulder. “You ready to go home, baby?”
“He won’t be much longer.” Jo smiled.
Bobby teetered on his seat, barely able to carry on a conversation with the cop next to him. “I’m fine.”
She winked at Sarah. “Sure, tiger. Have you heard from Ray tonight, or is he on shift?”
“What do you care?” He scowled. “You had your chance. He doesn’t need your shit when he’s got a hot ER nurse after him.”
So much for brotherly love. Her badass surfer side fought an urge to lean across the bar and punch him square in the nose. But he was right and she was woman enough to admit it.
Sarah grabbed him by the elbow. “Come on, baby. Let’s go home. I’ll fix you something to eat.” She mouthed sorry and dragged him outside.
The cottage sat eerily silent when Jo arrived home. She bumped around the kitchen a few minutes with Bobby’s words stinging her pride. Minutes later, her feet led her downstairs and onto the beach.
Usually the surf eased her tension. Not tonight. She plucked her cell from her pocket and checked the time. Two-thirty AM. The call would hit his voicemail. With shaking fingers, she pressed Send.
“I know it’s late,” she whispered, “but I couldn’t wait till morning. Not after hearing about Stan.” She sounded like a chump now.
“I was wrong to blame you. You’ve always been there for me.” She should have accepted his offer to come to California when he sensed things were off. She’d played tough and where had it gotten her? “I’m sorry. I’d like to give you a face-to-face apology and breakfast, but if you’re done with a damaged surfer, I understand.
“Love you, blue eyes.”
The screen went black and she stood alone in the darkness with whitewater foaming at her feet. A warm breeze stirred giving her hope.
Early the next morning, Jo shot a perfect curl atop a fifteen-footer when a shrill chirp yanked her from her blue heaven dream. “Lo,” she answered and then cleared her throat.
“Wake up, sleeping beauty.”
She envisioned Ray’s sexy stare while sinking into her pillow. “Are you still at work?”
“Just returning to the station after a major call. Found your message on the ride back. Nice. I especially liked the blue eyes bit.”
His husky voice caressed her in the predawn hour, making her slippery between her thighs. If she could keep him talking, her fingers might afford her some physical relief. “So can I buy you an apology breakfast, or have you got your day planned?”
“Meet me at Sammies’ at seven-thirty.”
* * * *
After the grizzly accident scene, Jo’s message improved Ray’s mood. Did she really believe he’d chuck their friendship because she’d been angry with him? Maybe he expected too much by pretending she was the same Jo who left the Outer Banks as a girl. A lot in her life had changed.
He almost drove to the house instead of calling, but followed her lead for breakfast.
Sipping coffee at the counter of Sammies’, he’d lost count of breakfasts he’d eaten with Cappy, Bobby, and Jo at the fisherman’s hangout. The wooden floored, shaker-shingle house held iconic status in Nag Head as did the fish pictures on the walls.
Jo slid onto the stool next to him and the waitress poured her a cup.
He offered a half smile as she took a long swill without adding cream or sweetener. “Do you need a pain reliever to go with?”
“I didn’t drunk call you.” She leaned in and pecked his cheek with a kiss.
He inhaled her clean scent. It reminded him of the ocean and the sensual kiss they’d shared on July Fourth. So many times, he’d rehearsed her homecoming in his mind. In every scenario, he made love to her the very first night. Here he sat weeks later like a horny teen.
“I’m sorry, I put everything on you.” Chewing on her bottom lip revealed her concern.
“I’ve got big shoulders.”
“That you do.” She appraised his physique. “But it wasn’t fair.”
“You felt betrayed by the people you trusted most. I knew you’d come around when you were ready.” He brushed his shoulder against her.
“We even?” Her voice cracked.
“Hardly, Dahlin’.” He narrowed his gaze and chucked her chin with his knuckle.
Their food came and he ate while she picked at her eggs. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. How’s work?” She finally glanced at him.
“Working extra shifts when I can. Summer’s always busy you know. Are you still bartending at Harley’s?” He tried to suppress the irritation in his voice.
Jo shrugged. “Lifeguard season is nearly over and until I come up with a new career plan, I gotta do something.”
“They’ve got a lot of turnover at the hospital.” Anything to get her away from Harley.
“Don’t think I’m cut out to be a nurse.” She wrinkled her nose.
“No bedside manner?” He raised a brow.
“Hmmm, I’m sure you know all about nurses’ bedside manners.”
Ray frown while snapping a piece of bacon between his fingers. “What makes you say that?”
“I doubt your reputation has changed since high school.”
“You might be surprised?” He reared back in his seat before glancing about the restaurant. “So tell me.”
“Fast hands, faster tongue.”
He nearly choked on breakfast. After swallowing some coffee, he said, “Yikes, you chicks talked like that?”
Her eyes lit up and a smile followed.
“You don’t believe everything you hear, do you?” God, he hoped not.
“Actually, I think the fast hands comment was a misnomer. Remember at the beach the night of the fourth?”
His face heated at her words.
“Well, they were slow and very skilled.” She cleared her throat and stared at her plate.
“Do you have to remind me,
now
?” He suppressed a groan.
She skimmed her hand along his thigh and winked.
“Brat.” He took her hand in his. Her trembling fingers made him want to feel her whole body shudder.
“Come in for a drink. Bring your nurse friend, if you like. You have a hundred dollar credit from the huge tip you left me.”
A drunk Bobby had to have brought up the nurse who was only his captain’s daughter who needed a favor. He’d see to paying him back. “That was for the gas hog.”
“Broncosaurus.”
He grinned at the reminder of Bobby’s nickname for the truck. “So, how is your brother?”
“Acting like a butthead at the bar last night. I haven’t really talked with him since he grilled steaks for Sarah and me.”
“Appears to be on the fast track to matrimony.” He pushed away his plate.
Jo snatched the tab as the server laid it down. “You think so, too?”
He scrubbed his chin. “I’ve never seen him so tied up with a woman, even while you were in college. We haven’t golfed all summer.”
“He should get back to doing guy stuff in a bit.” She laid cash on the counter and stood.
“More like years from what I’ve heard.” He walked with her to the door and out into the parking lot. “So, what are you doing today?” Could he talk her into surfing?
“Job hunting. Bartending isn’t going to cut it, especially If I have to start paying rent.”
“For the cottage?” He frowned.
“I’ll have to pay him something, if he moves out. It is half his.” She unlocked her truck.
“You could get a roommate.” He opened her door.
“Yeah, six-foot four, sporting a six pack and nice guns. Oh, and some awesome Husky blue eyes. Know anybody capable of filling my order?”
He rolled his lips to keep from grinning. “I hope you guys don’t ever think of selling the place, Jo. I’d have to mortgage my life away to buy it. There are just too many good memories.”
* * * *
Apologizing to Ray set Jo’s day off on a good note. His acceptance proved he cared for her, faults and all. After filling out a county firefighter’s application, she signed up as a volunteer responder or volly. Already certified in pulmonary resuscitation, she was exempt from the CPR class.
Even though her legal issues were resolved, she provided her former probation officer’s name and number. If accepted, she would be required to pass a written exam as well as the grueling CPAT or Candidate Physical Abilities Test. Seven months of training at the fire academy would follow. She debated calling Ray, for help, but decided to wait to see if she was accepted.
Monday afternoon of Labor Day weekend, she neared the end of her last lifeguard shift for the season. The usual humidity was lacking as a bright azure sky spanned from horizon to horizon. Local surfers swarmed in full force.
“You staying, Jo?” A regular paused with a huge cooler on his shoulder.
If they broke out the weed like last time, she’d leave. Even being around illegal drugs was the last thing she needed after probation. “Maybe.”
“Come on, it’s the last one. We’ve got a bonfire permit and everything. You don’t need to bring anything, but your sweet self. Who knows if we’ll be lucky enough to have you stationed at Coquina next summer?” A smile warmed his face.
“Thanks.” Would she even be a lifeguard next summer?
The party intensified as her shift ended. She returned to her truck for a change of swimsuits. Although she wasn’t law enforcement, the red suit put the partygoers ill at ease. From her ever-ready bag of clothes, she retrieved her favorite bikini―a little lime green number with ornate gold rings. After changing in one of the stalls, she received a couple of wolf whistles on her return to the beach.
A surfer named Jazz tossed her a cool one from a boat-sized cooler as she chatted with regulars. Others dug a pit and before long, a warm fire glowed.
As waves reached their peak, so did the surfers’ rowdy banter. The urge to join the surfers topped her need to finish her beer. She turned to retrieve her board and stood nose-to-nose with Cindy.
She retreated a step and silently cursed.
“Joanne. Wow! Didn’t know you’d come home.” The DD cup former schoolmate smirked. “Guess there wasn’t much to do after losing your spot on the circuit.” She’d been one of the clique chicks hot after Ray. Thankfully, he never gave her a second look.
“Actually, I’m happy to be home.”
“So, I hear you’re playing lifeguard, again.” A hand on her hip emphasized her mocking tone.
“You know it’s amazing how some athletic people can’t swim a lick. So, how’s OBX’s number one volleyballer?”
With your shredded knee?
“Coaching.”
“Ahh…a lot of people say they like coaching better than playing.” No athlete ever wanted to quit competing. Age and injuries were a competitor’s enemies.
“It’s fine.” Her lips pursed. “Hey, I saw Ray the other day having lunch with some blonde nurse at the hospital. Are you guys still friends?”
“Last he told me, he was doing twins.” Jo dipped her shades then winked. “You know Ray will never settle to one woman.” With a beer bottle salute, she moved into the crowd, and left Cindy slack-jawed.
Her heart rate slowed as she approached the water. She’d hated high school because of bitches like her. Jo’s best girlfriends were surfing competitors she met along the east coast.
Guess Bobby’s attempt to rile her up by mentioning the nurse was true. Crap. She had no one to blame but herself.
The surf beckoned. Nice three and four footers rolled in with minimal chop. She dumped the rest of her beer and grabbed her board. Before she reached the water, a surfboard minus rider bulleted into the air from the shallows. A headfirst wipeout.
She scanned for the surfer. Adrenaline pumped away any alcohol effects as Jo rushed into the water. Nearby surfers had a surfboard under the victim by the time she reached him. She held his neck stable as they brought him ashore. “Call nine-one-one!” She checked for a pulse. Weak and thready. No respiration. Carefully, she tilted his head back and started CPR.
A woman claiming to be a nurse forced her way through the crowd and started compressions while Jo did the breaths.
No one had ever died on Jo’s watch. When sirens pierced her concentration, she didn’t know how long she and the nurse had been doing CPR.
The EMTs chugged over the dunes carrying their gear, and relieved her. In a full sweat from exertion and terror, she welcomed them. After finding no pulse, they unzipped a portable defibrillator, and placed its pads on the young man’s bare chest. As current raced through his body his torso jerked.
Unable to tear her gaze from their efforts, she hugged herself in the chilling breeze. A warm sweatshirt covered her shoulders from behind. She bobbed and hands steadied her.
From his scent alone, she recognized Ray’s solid form. His hands skimmed about her bare waist, and she melted into his warm embrace. “I seem to be making a habit of needing your gear.”