She appeared unconvinced as she took equipment from the truck, every movement jerky.
“I said that girl was pretty young, not pretty.” He looked for a reaction, but she turned her back. “And why do you care, anyway?”
“We’re supposed to be working, that’s why.” She swiveled and pointed to the half-completed building. “There’s a man up there counting on us, and all you can think about is women.”
“Huh.” He shook his head. “That’s not true, and you know it. But arguing the point isn’t getting him rescued, is it?” He picked up equipment from the ground. “I still have your bag, by the way. You left it in my car when—”
“.” She swung back to face him. “Not now,” she said with a warning shake of her head. “Somebody might hear you.”
“Fine.” He strode away from the truck. Heck, he didn’t want people knowing about Saturday night any more than she did. She must know that. And he would never let his private life interfere with his performance on the job. She was way out of line to suggest he would.
…
That afternoon, once all the chores and meetings were completed, Jasmine made her way to the station gym. She couldn’t settle to any one item of equipment, though, and after working out for twenty minutes, she grabbed a basketball from the rack by the wall and took it outside where there was a square of concrete and a hoop. As if dealing with Saturday night’s incident wasn’t bad enough, now she’d made things worse by acting like a jealous girlfriend around Aaron. Where had that come from? It wasn’t like her at all, and unprofessional too—they’d been working.
She was hot and sweaty when she heard the door open behind her, and she knew without taking her eyes from the hoop that it was Aaron who’d joined her outside. She guessed it because all the little hairs on the back of her neck stood on end and because a shiver made her miss her shot.
She smothered a groan while her stomach turned somersaults. She’d been bracing herself for the moment when she’d have to face him, and still he’d managed to catch her off guard.
As the ball bounced along the ground, he intercepted it and held it against his chest. His old gray T-shirt was fraying at the edges and so soft from repeated washing that it clung to his muscles, much as she was clinging to her anger.
Anger was easier to handle than embarrassment.
She grabbed her towel and mopped at the sheen of perspiration on her arms.
He aimed the ball at the hoop. “You know that school visit we’re scheduled to do this week?”
“What about it?”
“First one to ten. Loser does the safety talk. Deal?”
The ball dropped through the hoop and she caught it as it bounced. None of them liked doing the safety talk, or at least, none of them admitted to liking it. Secretly, she thought the kids were cute, and watching Aaron with them, it was hard to believe he didn’t get a buzz out of the whole thing. And it was easy to see why the children would hero-worship him; he looked the part without even trying. It wasn’t the uniform—they all wore the same clothes—but there was something about the way Aaron carried himself that made him appear more…well, more heroic. Of course, they didn’t know what he got up to out of uniform.
Still, whether the crew enjoyed it or not, they routinely came up with challenges in order to get out of it. Beating Aaron at anything gave her satisfaction, but she was particularly good at basketball. She’d spent many hours shooting hoops with her brothers, and they’d never taken it easy on her, which had been a pain at the time but had improved her skills no end.
“You’re on.” She tossed the ball, scored, grabbed it again, and turned her back to Aaron. He reached around her. She was too quick to throw the ball up and it dropped through the hoop again.
Aaron stuck out a hand and caught the rebound. “About last Saturday,” he said as he prepared to shoot.
She glared at him. “Yes, about that. It should never have happened, and it will never happen again. I hope you realize that?”
“I was going to apologize, but I don’t understand why you’re so angry with me. What’s that about?”
Because it was easier than admitting that she’d been so out of control as to hurl herself at him. She caught the ball and dodged past him to shoot. “You kissed me first.”
“And you kissed me back. Quite eagerly, in fact. You could have pushed me away, but you didn’t.”
Okay, she couldn’t argue with that. It was mortifying, but it was the truth. “Like I said, it will never happen again.”
He pushed a hand through his short, dark hair, leaving it sticking up in spikes, and yet he still looked good in a scruffy, been-through-a-spin-dryer way. He reached out to snag her rebound with ridiculous ease. “Well, we’re agreed on that much.”
“We are?”
“Absolutely. You’re the last person I want to get into anything with.” His shot went wide.
While she retrieved the ball, she didn’t know whether to be offended that she had so little to attract him, or pleased that they were in agreement. Well, it was humiliating to be so unattractive, but it could have been worse. He could have reminded her that after all the time she’d spent telling him how much she despised his attitude toward women, she’d tossed aside her supposed standards and launched herself into his arms. He could have laughed at her.
He caught her rebound, then turned to her with a shrug. “It was good, though, wasn’t it?”
She couldn’t argue with that either, so she didn’t bother. She made a long shot, then said, “You won’t tell anybody what happened?”
He blinked. “Of course I won’t.” He grabbed the ball and took aim. “You don’t think I want people to know?”
No, of course she didn’t.
As the ball dropped through the hoop, the station bells started to ring.
“I would have won,” she said as she scooped up her towel and followed him inside.
“No, you wouldn’t.” He shot her a grin. “Not a chance.”
“I would. I was in the lead.”
Really, she thought as she joined the others and scrambled to pull on her turnout gear, I’m the loser in all of this. She’d revealed herself to be a real pushover when it came to resisting his so-called charm, and now he knew she wasn’t as tough as she made herself out to be. She hated that when he looked at her from now on, he would see straight through her act. And as if that weren’t enough, she’d never get to repeat the experience, never feel his firm lips on her mouth, his strong hands on her body.
The memory made her shiver.
Not that she wanted to repeat it, of course, but she hadn’t had such an overwhelming physical reaction to a man in a long time. After Craig, she’d suspected that she never would again. She’d thought that when Craig broke her heart, he must have destroyed that part of her as well. Although the whole situation with Aaron was impossible, it was kind of pleasing to know that everything was still in working order after all.
“Truthfully, I’m shocked at you, Jasmine. Shocked, I tell you.”
Sasha’s words made Jasmine want to crawl under the stark white table of the trendy bar, but she resisted the urge. She wouldn’t fit anyway—it was a tiny table and she was taller than the average woman.
“I mean, you were the one telling me to stay away from him.”
“I know,” she said, cringing. “I shouldn’t drink champagne. I should stick to beer.”
Sasha grimaced. “Leanne doesn’t know about this, does she?”
“No. As if I’d ring her up on her honeymoon to tell her that I’m a lunatic.”
“That can wait till she gets back.” Sasha drained her glass and put it down on the table. “Now, I’ve known you forever, and I know that nobody makes you do anything you don’t want to do. So maybe you’ve had repressed feelings for him all along.”
Jasmine huffed out a breath. “No, I haven’t.”
“It would explain why you haven’t tried very hard to find someone else. I mean, it’s been years since Craig…
Well, it’s unusual to be alone for so long, and I was starting to worry about you. Are you sure you haven’t been fantasizing about Aaron in private?”
“Sasha! Of course I’m sure. His whole lifestyle is anathema to me. He’s a playboy like Craig. Maybe even worse, if that’s possible.”
She’d thought that Craig was the one, but it had turned out that she was one of many for him.
“I didn’t know the truth about Craig until it was too late and I was completely blindsided by his behavior. I do know how Aaron treats women and I’m not stupid enough to get tangled up with him. What kind of an idiot would I be if I did?”
“Hmm.” Sasha gave her a thoughtful look. “You can have chemistry with someone without approving of everything he does, you know.”
“We don’t have chemistry.” Although she’d been trying not to, she relived the way he’d made her tingle all over with minimal effort. There had definitely been some sort of chemical reaction happening on Saturday night. She tweaked the high neckline of her T-shirt. “Warm in here, isn’t it?”
“No. Are you saying that you didn’t enjoy kissing him?”
Jasmine fidgeted in the white leather chair, which had a hard seat and dug into her back. When she’d asked Sasha to come out for a drink, she’d been thinking of the local pub with comfy booths, but Sasha had wanted to try the new cocktail bar in the city. With its blond wood and bare spaces, it was stylish. Not her normal type of hangout. And as for its claim to be the cocktail bar for the health-conscious—quite how Sasha’s choice of goat weed and crushed mandarin mixed with Irish whiskey could be good for her health was anybody’s guess.
Sasha was watching her with one eyebrow raised. “Well?”
“All right, I admit I enjoyed it.” She sighed. “Too darn much, and that’s part of my problem. He could hardly fail to notice how much I enjoyed it.”
Sasha’s second eyebrow rose as well. “Was it…um…more than just a kiss?”
Jasmine grimaced. “It was getting that way.”
Sasha gasped. “You were going to sleep with him?”
“If old Mr. Hughes next door hadn’t interrupted us…more than likely.”
“Well, then.” Sasha could barely suppress her excitement at the news. “I accept that he might not be The One, but maybe he’s an itch you need to scratch. What about having a short-term relationship with him? To get him out of your system?”
“It would be very short-term with him, wouldn’t it? But, no.” She shook her head for emphasis. “It’s out of the question.”
“Because…?”
“For a start, I don’t believe in having a fling or whatever you’d call it.”
“I’d call it better than nothing.”
She shook her head again. “Not for me. It’s better not to go there at all.”
“You’re assuming you’d get hurt. It doesn’t have to be that way.”
“It would come to an end. When Craig—”
“Forget Craig. I know he broke your heart, but this would be different. You’d be a strong, modern woman going in with your eyes open, and when it ended by mutual agreement, you’d get on with your life.”
Jasmine couldn’t see it happening. If she slept with Aaron and then he broke up with her, how could she work with him, knowing that he’d seen her at her weakest and most vulnerable and still didn’t want her?
“It would be too difficult. Everything would be ruined. I’d have to leave…and where would I go? It’s not as if there are many fire stations in Adelaide. I’d have to move to another state—”
“Oh, no, that’s not going to happen. I don’t have so many friends that I can afford to lose one. Although, if you moved to Sydney or Melbourne, I could come and visit and we could go shopping.” She clicked her tongue. “No, you’re the world’s worst shopper. I could shop and we could meet up afterward.”
Jasmine shook her head. “I’m not moving to Sydney or Melbourne just so you can go shopping. Apart from you and Leanne, there’s my dad and my brothers.”
“You never see them now.”
“Well, ‘never’ is a bit of an exaggeration.”
“Oh, yeah? When was the last time?”
“It’s been a while, but that’s not the point. If I lived in a different state—”
“Nothing would change.”
“And anyway, I don’t want to leave my job. You know it’s not like a normal job, and then there are the people I work with apart from Aaron. I’d have to leave all the people who matter to me and start over somewhere else.”
“If it ended.”
“And it would. So, let’s forget about it and talk about something else. What happened with Kane on Saturday? You haven’t said anything about it.”
Sasha smiled. “I had a great time. I’m seeing him again tomorrow night, and before you say it, I don’t mind that he’s a bit younger than me. He’s adorable, and I don’t work with him so there are no rules against us getting together. Anyway, it’s only a bit of fun. Nothing serious. Neither of us is looking for long-term.”
“I hope it works out, then. Be careful.”
“Ha! You’re a fine one to talk. I’m going to get another drink. I can feel my health improving already after just one.” As she spoke, Sasha picked up the two empty glasses. “I had no idea I could do my bit for the environment by having a cocktail.”
Sasha was right. She was a fine one to talk. Still, she wouldn’t get into any trouble this weekend because she was going to stay home and work on the house. No weddings, and no chance of kissing Aaron.
Chapter Four
Aaron parked the Mazda in front of Jasmine’s little house. It looked worse in daylight. He took in the overgrown garden as he walked to the front door. The step up to the porch needed fixing and the paintwork on the windows was a mess, cracked and peeling.
He pressed the doorbell and waited. After a few moments he heard movement behind the door and then it opened.
Jasmine’s eyes widened. “What are you doing here?”
“I brought your bag back. You know, the one you left in my car?” He held it up for her to see.
“Oh.”
“There never seemed to be a good time to give it to you at work. The guys were always around.”
“I know.” She held out a hand for the bag.
Instead of passing it to her, he held on to it and said, “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
“It’s not a good time. I’ve been painting.”
He could see that, and he guessed she didn’t know about the streak of white paint on her chin. She probably knew about all the drips and spatters on her figure-hugging cutoff jeans and tight pink top, but he also guessed that she hadn’t expected anyone to see her in such a revealing outfit. He gave a low whistle. “You’d better not be planning to go out in public like that.”
“Not that it’s any of your business if I do,” she said, her eyes widening farther.
Strands of her hair had come loose from the rubber band she’d used to tie it back—altogether a softer look than she went for at work, and very different from the way she’d looked at the wedding, but just as appealing in a sexy-without-trying way.
“At least show me what you’ve been doing,” he said, giving her his most persuasive smile. Now that he was here, he was in no hurry to leave, especially with her looking the way she did.
She sighed and pushed the door open wide. “All right, but be careful. Don’t touch any woodwork. It’s all freshly painted.”
He stepped past her and into a bright hallway. With the exception of the drop sheets underfoot, it was immaculate with fresh white woodwork against yellow walls. He stopped beneath the Victorian period arch. After gazing up at it for several seconds, he said, “You’ve done all this painting yourself?”
“Of course.” She swept a satisfied look around the hallway.
“Nice job. How long did it take you?”
She shrugged. “All up including the preparation? Weeks. I’ve scraped, sanded, fille
d, and resanded every bit of skirting and doorframe before painting it. I’ve finished the whole house now. Inside, at least. This was the last bit, and I’ve done the final coat in here today.”
“Don’t you have anybody who could help you? Family? Didn’t you mention you had brothers?”
“I don’t need help.”
He turned and looked at her. “That doesn’t really answer the question.”
“I do have family. A father and four brothers, if you must know. But they’re all busy people. They’d help me if I needed them to. Like I said, I don’t.”
He nodded. “Point taken. So, have you been working all day?”
“I made an early start.”
He tipped back his head to study the ornate cornices. “You’ve had quite a day, then. You must be done in. What do you think of this for an idea? While you clean up,” he indicated her paint-smeared hands, “I’ll go and grab a pizza or two and some beers. We can eat in the garden away from the paint fumes.”
She stared. “We? Why?”
“Because I figure you could do with a break, and I’m here anyway. We both have to eat, and…” He shrugged. “Why not?”
He could imagine her coming up with half-a-dozen reasons why not, but he didn’t want that to happen. “It’s only pizza. What do you say?”
“I say, only pizza? No such thing. Make it an extra-large and you’re on. Don’t hold the anchovies. In fact, don’t hold anything.”
“I get the picture.” He grinned. “Right, well, I’ll leave you to do what you have to do. I’ll be back shortly with food and beer.”
…
While he waited for the pizza to cook, Aaron wondered why he’d been so keen for Jasmine to agree to his suggestion. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have anything else to do this evening—there were plenty of standing invitations should he wish to take one of them up, but he didn’t. One look at Jasmine in those scruffy, leg-revealing cutoffs and that heart-stopping excuse for a top, and all other possibilities had flown right out of his head, along with his good intentions where she was concerned.
Somehow, he had to remember exactly why it was a bad idea to let himself look at her as anything other than a colleague. He’d had good reasons for not considering any involvement with her before now and those reasons hadn’t magically disappeared because he’d discovered what was beneath the bulky uniform and unflattering exercise gear, distracting as that might be.
Flirting With Danger Page 4