In Bed with the Bodyguard (25 page)

“Thank you.” She realized she now knew his name, and she needed to start calling him Jason and stop thinking about him as sexy McFirefighter if she was going to be leading the class. Clearing her throat, she took her position front and center again and smiled around the room. “Since we're going to be spending some time together, let's get to know each other. Why don't you each stand, say your name, and feel free to share any ideas you have about going out into the community.” She looked to the person in the front row corner seat. “Why don't you start?”

One by one the firefighters stood, introduced themselves, but mostly they were silent on media ideas. Just as well—that's why they were paying her the big money.

They didn't go row to row as she would've expected, but they spaced themselves front to back by aisle. Only some of them seemed invested in the project and what she had to offer. One guy even said he was here for the overtime pay. Firefighter Dan stood with a cocky grin and said, “You know my name is Dan, and my idea is that we go to dinner, you know, get out in the community.”

The class staved off its laughter, waiting to see her reaction. She purposely held any reaction and simply told Dan, “Good luck in your endeavors, but I won't date a client, and you are all effectively my clients.” Then the room erupted, but the mocking was pointed at Dan, who'd been firmly shut down. She could feel Rob's admiring gaze on her. She didn't know why he was surprised, she was the next in line to make partner at the firm, she clearly needed to have some skills handling a room full of people, and on their worst day, this group of firefighters didn't hold a candle to a room of hungry-for-a-story journalists.

Finally they reached the seat with Jason, the dark-haired firefighter. His last name was Moore. Jason Moore. Her heart pounded as she listened to him say he'd volunteered to be part of the PR campaign. It was hard to hear anything over the buzzing in her ear and from smiling and nodding so much at him. What was with her? She'd seen handsome men before. Jason looked as though he'd jumped off the TV screen from a home remodeling show with a face that was chiseled but not pretty. He was all man with biceps that burst their way out from his constricting navy t-shirt and a chin that needed a shave.

Her attraction to him was nothing because she was never going to act on it. She didn't date men like him. Mostly, she didn't date, period. Especially not men who made her want to rip off their clothes and get naked.

  

Jason repeated his introduction. He couldn't tell if the pretty instructor had heard him. She was nodding and smiling. “I'm here because I want to keep my job, and—” He sat down. He'd nearly blurted out he was here because the experience might help boost his résumé when applying for the county's International Search and Rescue Team, but he stopped himself. No one in his squad knew of his goal to try out for the team. They'd wonder why he hadn't before, and he really didn't want to go into his reasons. The crew in his station saw him as a leader. He didn't want to rock the boat by admitting he had a learning disability.

He sat and stared at his blank notebook in front of him and tried not to stare at Valerie, the PR expert. He hadn't been expecting her. No one had. They'd been waiting for an older man in a suit or even the younger dude that was with her. But Valerie was something totally foreign to him. She was around his age. And gorgeous and so cool and collected, she made him want to go change into a shirt with a collar, or at least tuck his T-shirt in.

Her long light brown hair was pulled back into an elegant clip, but it looked like if she released it, it'd be soft and silky, flowing around her shoulders wildly. Her dark tailored pants covered too much skin, but also revealed her shapely ass, which made Jason's hands itch to go touch and feel.

Shit, she'd already clearly explained she didn't date clients, which meant she was off-limits. He could look and admire, but go no further.

When he and his colleagues at the station had gotten in trouble, they'd agreed to do anything to help the county redeem their reputation, even though all of them would've preferred spending the time on other more hands-on practical subjects. However, it had been made clear they had no choice, and now he was almost looking forward to the project thanks to the leader.

She didn't seem to notice or care what the crew thought of her. A cool bubble seemed to surround the air around her, clearly delineating that she was no mere mortal. No one was as calm and collected as she appeared, and in fact, he'd noted her hands had shaken slightly when she'd written her name on the chalkboard. Ms. Wainwright was nervous. Likely for her job she had to give talks all the time, and probably to more important people than a bunch of firefighters. Why then was she nervous around them?

It made him want to tell the rest of the crew to shut up and pay attention, or to go talk to her quietly and reassure her that they were nice people, even Dan in his own special way. But she might interpret his gesture wrong and assume he was hitting on her. Not to say he hadn't sat up and taken notice the second she'd entered the room. If she hadn't put the kibosh on dating her clients, he might've considered making a move.

Just as well, they lived in different worlds. She'd want to go for sushi and have civilized conversation about what happened on Wall Street that day, and he'd want to take her for burgers, or if he were splurging, to go see a baseball game at Nationals Park.

They might attend the same Nationals game, but she'd be in one of the air-conditioned boxes getting served wine from a waiter, and he'd be at the top of the stadium whistling for beer from a vendor. Again with the figurative and literal bubbles separating them. Sheesh, listen to his brain spewing ten-cent vocabulary words like
figurative
. It was as if he'd gone to college or some shit, when his poorly wired brain had barely carried him through high school.

Oh wait, Valerie was back at the front of the room now talking about rules for posting pictures to the Internet and upcoming community events. He tried to concentrate, he really did, but he didn't even have a Facebook page and had no plans to get one. Lots of women had begged him to sign up for one, but he didn't see the point. Too much reading. Give him a good old telephone any day.

Instead he daydreamed about the essays he'd have to write for the search and rescue exam. He had so much to say, he could talk someone's ear off for hours, if only they'd let him. But no, the minute the pen got in his hand, his brain froze as if someone had cut the connection between it and his hand.

“Jason.”

He looked up, hearing his name tacked on at the end of a sentence. “I'm sorry. Can you repeat the question?”

Valerie looked faintly annoyed, and he thought it made her sexier, like a dominatrix clad in a pants suit. “Mr. Moore, you realize you're the reason I'm here today. Please try to pay attention.”

“I will. I'm sorry.”

“I was asking you for some ideas of how you could've prevented your situation.”

“Well, uh.” He swiveled to glare at Dan. “For starters, I guess those sorority girls shouldn't have been in our living quarters to begin with. Since they were here to volunteer, we should have stuck them in a public space.”

“Good start,” Valerie said, nodding approvingly. “What else?”

All eyes scanned the chalkboard, where Valerie had scrawled tips. Jason was on the second sentence when hands started going up.

“The person who greeted the visitors at the door should've stated a photography policy,” Rebecca said.

“Excellent. And the photography policy is…”

“Ask permission before taking pictures and get written sign-off before posting them anywhere public,” Rebecca continued.

Jason absorbed that. It was a good idea. As far as he knew, they'd never had a photography policy, but starting one was a damn good idea. Would've saved his ass.

“What about birthday parties?” Tony asked.

Valerie pursed her pink lips in a way that made him think of kissing. “What about them?”

“On weekends, families can host their kid's birthday party in our rec room in exchange for a donation to our station. The kids love to get their picture taken with us in uniform.”

She smiled. “That's lovely, and I think you can use your best judgment there.”

“What about the moms?” Dan joked. “I like taking pictures with the hot moms.”

Valerie ignored his gibes and continued her lecture. Around noon, when Jason's stomach was starting to growl, she wrapped it up with a smile and told them she'd see them all next week, for their next strategy session.

He stood to leave, trying not to be an ass and stare at her as he exited, but to his surprise, she called him over.

“Mr. Moore.”

He turned and stepped toward her. “Call me Jason.”

“All right. Jason, I…” She stopped and flushed, and it was his second glimpse that there was a real person behind her Little Miss Perfect façade. He liked it. “You may or may not know that I've been asked to judge whether you're participating in the PR program to my satisfaction.”

He nearly groaned as her lips formed the word
satisfaction
. God, he'd love to know what it would take to satisfy this woman.

He was also surprised. This was the first he'd heard of her overseeing his efforts. “Oh. I'm on board. Just tell me where to be, and I'll be there waving and smiling.”

A pretty pink color washed over her cheeks. “Good to hear, and I have some ideas on other charitable endeavors that will go a long way in restoring your reputation.”

“I'm a firefighter, not a politician.”

“Of course.” There went that flush again.

“Why don't you stay for lunch with the crew and you can tell us more.” Now what the heck made him ask her to stay for lunch, even if it was in a semiprofessional capacity? Especially since she'd already shut down Dan.

His invitation snapped her professional demeanor back into place. “I can't. I mean, thank you for the invitation, but I have a work lunch to get to. I'll see you next week.” She flushed again and hustled to the door, where her colleague waited for her.

He stared at her tight ass in the perfectly fitted long navy pants, then looked away before he was caught drooling over a woman who was clearly off-limits. He didn't know whether to count the seconds to next week's event or find a way to call in sick.

     

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