by Marnee Blake
He nodded, though he undoubtedly was well versed on the specifics of the test. With a leap, he gripped the bar, hanging. The muscles along his arms played and she bit into her lip. “Tell me when,” he said.
“Go,” she said, clicking the button on the watch.
Though there was a standardized time to complete the exercise, he easily beat it. In rapid succession, he lifted himself up, clearing the bar with his chin over and over. He made it look easy. Dropping to the ground when he was done, he folded his arms over his chest and smiled at her, his breathing barely labored. “Good?”
She nodded. More than good. They’d been perfect. And, he’d looked amazing doing them, damn it. Swallowing, she licked her top lip. “Yeah. Those were all fine.”
Did she sound breathless?
He shrugged. “I know.”
As he joined Dak, her brow furrowed, and her mouth thinned. “Charming.”
He laughed. She glared at him, but stopped herself from saying more. He was right. They had been good.
“Dak, you’re next,” she deflected, because she was supposed to be in charge.
Lance’s friend nodded. Without a word, he jumped up and clasped the bar.
She clicked the stopwatch again. “Go.”
Dak completed his set easily as well, though maybe not as fast or as smoothly as Lance. When he hopped down and rolled his shoulders, Rock folded his arms over his chest. “Jesus, you should have let me go first. Hard to look properly macho with these guys around.”
Not that he should have worried. When she hit the stopwatch, he did fine. Maybe not as fast or as clean as Dak and Lance, but he still managed the minimum.
“Great,” she said, marking down their times on her sheet. “Now, forty-five sit-ups and twenty-five push-ups.”
She timed them. They all managed the task, though Rock struggled the most.
Again, though, Lance proved he was in better shape than either of the others. Except now, he was covered in a fine layer of sweat. She did her best to pretend that sweat didn’t look better on him than it looked on the others. With the three tasks done, they rejoined Mitch and she gritted her teeth.
She was his trainer, and he was a rookie at training, a rookie she was supposed to judge without bias. She’d told herself she could do this, that she could ignore him and treat him like everyone else.
Maybe she was wrong.
In the van on the way to the run course, she forced herself to revisit everything that happened last night. As she’d lain in bed, she’d allowed her embarrassment to settle in her gut. No matter what she’d said to Lance, no matter how she’d tried to blame him, it wasn’t his fault she was attracted to him. She’d been seconds from falling into him. She wanted him to kiss her, the same as she’d always wanted him to kiss her, all those years ago. She’d covered it in bravado, brushing him off afterward. Alone last night, in the bed where she’d dreamed of him as a girl, she couldn’t pretend she didn’t want him. Again. Still, maybe. When he’d touched her, the shiver along her spine had settled in her belly in ways she’d never experienced before.
She couldn’t let that affect what she was doing here.
This was the first day of training, and she needed to judge Lance and his progress fairly. If she couldn’t get a handle on this ridiculous attraction, she would need to recuse herself from her position. Not only would that be highly unprofessional, but how was she going to explain that to her brothers? To her mother and Uncle Joe? That she couldn’t stop staring at Lance Roberts’s butt and that was messing with her ability to do her job?
She’d never live it down. She’d never forgive herself.
She’d taken this job so she could ensure smokejumpers’ safety. She needed to make sure that no other families went through what hers had. Though she’d never been able to master her fear of fire, the need to serve, to help others, it was as much a part of her and her family as their Irish temperaments. This job—training these highly specialized firefighters how to be as safe and prepared as possible—was her way of contributing.
It was bad enough she was putting that goal at risk, but even entertaining an attraction to a firefighter, let alone the most dangerous type of firefighting? What was she thinking? She’d watched her mother these past years, struggling with the loss of the man she loved. She refused to follow her path. It was hard enough knowing that her brothers risked their lives, that she might lose them to a flame someday. She might not be able to control her brothers’ choices, but she could decide her own fate. She chose not to fall in love with a firefighter.
And without a doubt, Lance Roberts was a firefighter…and a man she could love. She’d been half in love with him her entire life. That’s why she needed to stop this. Now.
A good run would help her shake this off. It usually did. When they reached the course, she called to Mitch, “I’ll lead the pack on the run test.” Unzipping her fleece, she dropped it next to the guys’ water bottles and Gatorades. She pulled her arm across her chest, stretching her shoulder.
Rock laughed. “All respect, Ms. Buchanan, but I’ll be leading the pack.” He crossed his arms over his chest, smirking.
She smiled. She didn’t have any faith in her choices in men right now, but she knew she was a good runner. From the looks of them, a lot of these guys ran frequently. But, she could hang with them.
“We’ll see, won’t we?” There were a few chuckles, and a couple of the guys ribbed him. She didn’t say anything else. Actions spoke louder than words, after all.
The route was well marked, but Mitch still explained it to the recruits. It wrapped around the air field, ended where it began. “I’ll follow along in the cart,” Mitch said. “In case anyone needs first aid.”
That was an excuse. Mitch hadn’t run anywhere in years and everyone knew it. He’d suffered a fused disc in his back. He’d told her it was a struggle to keep his weight regulated.
They stepped up to the starting line. This was only a mile and a half, but she finished her stretches anyway, to set a good example. Sure enough, the guys followed her lead.
Finally, they lined up. “Go,” Mitch said.
As she stepped into her first gaits, she inhaled what might have been her first full breath of the day. She stretched out, falling into a quick pace, but one that she assumed would give her under a seven-minute mile. It would be a hard standard for the recruits, but she figured that being one of the first across the finish would serve two purposes: she’d work off the tension and she’d prove to these guys that she had a right to be here.
Maybe she’d prove it to herself, too.
She pulled ahead of the pack. She’d started running shortly after her father’s death. It had always been her escape. Today, she hoped it would help her leave her foolish attraction behind her.
With that thought, she sped up.
Chapter 5
Lance fell in step a few paces behind Meg. Together, they streaked along the course. He probably would have been able to catch her if he pushed hard—he was taller and a decent runner—but he didn’t want to. She was on step to complete at least a seven-minute mile, and he didn’t need to beat that to advance.
Besides, the view from here, with her auburn hair streaming behind her, her toned body…well, he didn’t feel the need to win. Coming in second behind her would be just fine.
If he’d thought she was gorgeous before, watching her now, her body finely honed from what was obviously years of running, took his desire to a new level.
He wondered what had made her take up running. Meg hadn’t played any sport when she was younger. Maybe he missed it, though, because he’d left before her sophomore year.
As if she sensed him behind her, she kicked up the speed as they neared the end. His lungs were screaming, but he kept up with her. They rushed across the finish line.
She slowed, checking her watch and pressing her ot
her hand into the small of her back as she panted.
He stopped next to her, folding in half, his hands on his knees. He gasped out, “Damn, you’re fast.”
“Thanks.” She glanced at her watch. “Good run.”
He nodded. It was a good run for him, but her? She was amazing. “When did you get that fast?” He asked between breaths.
She shrugged, avoiding his eyes. He searched for something to say to smooth things over with her. The awkwardness…it was as if nothing had changed in the past ten years. If anything, it was worse.
Rock caught up with them, and she gave him his time. As they all caught their breath, waiting for the others, Rock glanced between them. “So,” he said. “What’s the story with you two?”
Meg tensed. “What do you mean?” Her voice was clipped, but maybe it was because she was out of breath.
“Dunno. You guys know each other or something?” Rock asked, his eyes narrowed.
“No,” Meg said.
“Yes,” Lance responded at the same time. He wasn’t going to lie. When you came from a family with scandal in its history, lying only made things worse. If you were caught, it gave others fodder to believe everything bad about you.
No lies.
But if Meg didn’t want to talk about it, he wasn’t going to push. Not like everyone wasn’t going to know the story in the end.
“Not anymore,” she conceded, glaring at him.
The corner of Rock’s mouth tilted up. “Right. Clears it all up.”
Maybe this guy wasn’t as dumb as he looked. Hid some brains behind his smart comments. He’d have to remember that.
Meg opened her mouth, presumably to explain, but Hunter and Dak trotted up, followed by Sledge and Digger. She snapped her mouth closed, checking her watch.
Only Kevin remained on the course, trudging along, nearing the finish line. Mitch followed him in the cart, barking. “Hurry up, son. You have twenty seconds.”
Kevin pushed forward, as if digging deep for a burst of speed. He made it across the line with only a few seconds to go.
Mitch didn’t celebrate. “That was sloppy. You think you’re the tortoise? Slow and steady wins the race?” He called the recruits to line up, continuing his litany on Kevin. They stood quietly, listening.
Lance got it. Smokejumper standards were the highest, with good reason. There was only so much room on the planes they used. The available spaces needed to be filled with the best. If Kevin couldn’t hack it, he didn’t deserve to be here.
“Roberts.” Mitch finally turned his attention to Lance.
“Sir.”
“Good run. You almost caught her. Trust me, Meg’s world class.”
“She is, sir,” he answered, his eyes finding Meg. She scowled at him.
“Since you all made it this far, it’s time for the pack test.” Mitch motioned to the air center. “Get set up. Your packs need to have 110 pounds in them. We leave in fifteen.”
The other guys filed into the building, but Meg snagged his arm, holding him back. He glanced down at her fingers, and then lifted his eyebrows at her.
She immediately dropped her hand.
When they were alone, he smiled at her, clasping the back of his neck with his hands. Her gaze trailed across the span of his arms, and damned if her look of appreciation didn’t make him feel ten feet tall. That she probably didn’t want him to see her approval made his grin widen. “What can I do for you, Miss Buchanan?”
She glared at him. “You can knock it off.”
“Knock what off?” he asked innocently.
“You know, Lance.” Her brow wrinkled. “This is both of our jobs. Stop making it a joke.”
That wiped the smile off his face. “This isn’t a joke.”
“Then why are you doing that?”
Though every self-preserving instinct screamed for him to stop, he closed the space between them, leaving only inches.
She sucked in a breath, though she probably didn’t realize she did it. The slight inhalation struck him right in the chest. Her words were all bluster and defensiveness, but the way she responded…God, it did funny things to him. He refused to examine that too closely.
“What am I doing, Meg?” he asked, his voice low.
“You know what you’re doing.” Hers was a whisper. It made his blood heat.
“Tell me.”
She dropped her gaze to his chest and lifted her hands. “Stop. Please.”
Even as she said the words, her eyes on him made him want to bury his hands in her hair, low on her neck, where her ponytail had loosened.
He didn’t touch her, though. He promised he wouldn’t and she said no. Still, he couldn’t step away. Everything in him wailed for caution. The few inches between them were thick and his awareness of her thrummed.
Even as he wanted to be closer, he cursed himself. Pushing this was a bad idea, but he couldn’t seem to help himself.
This couldn’t be one-sided. She had to be having trouble being near him. He felt it, whatever beat between them. The intensity of it, the connection…
He massaged his chest, his brain scrambled.
She glared at him and waved at the air center. “Look what Rock said. He can tell we know each other.”
“We do know each other.”
She glared at him. “You know what I mean.” The color was high on her cheeks, and he swallowed his groan. God, she was gorgeous all fired up.
“You’re a recruit. I’m your trainer. If anyone even suspects that there’s something unprofessional going on between us, we’d both be out of here.” She pointed at him. “I’ve wanted this job for a long time. You’re going to screw it up.”
“Me? You’re here, too, firecracker.”
She rolled her eyes, folding her arms across her chest.
Looking at her was too hard, so he glanced at the building. He hated to admit it, but she was right. He hadn’t been subtle. Rock had noticed there was something between them. If he was trying to protect her from whatever would come out about their fathers, he needed to keep things as focused on the job as possible.
This morning, his running shoes had been sliced open. He’d needed to duct tape them for training today, until he could get out to buy a new pair. No one had said anything. Maybe the rest of them thought this was how he liked his shoes. But, someone was trying to tell him he wasn’t wanted.
None of that was stuff he wanted her near.
“Okay. Fine. I can be professional.” He hoped. Her lips split into a triumphant grin, so he must have been believable. “But, in return, I want something from you.”
“What?” Wariness clouded her face. He didn’t like how it looked on her features.
“I want you to give me a chance.”
“A chance?” Her gaze hardened. “I told you I wouldn’t get in your way here. You’ll have a fair chance.”
“Not just a chance in training, a chance to not be enemies.” He sighed. “I know we can’t be friends. Not anymore. But I’d at least like us not to be enemies.”
“You aren’t my enemy.” She didn’t meet his eyes, glancing over his shoulder as if checking to make sure no one heard them.
“Then why were you so quick to pretend we don’t know each other?” he challenged. “You would have owned a former acquaintance. That’s more than I got.”
“Come on, Lance. This is hard.”
He was pushing her too far. But he hated being some dirty secret. And maybe if he could get through to her now, when she found out his secret, it might help.
It was the best he could hope for.
He smiled his most persuasive grin. “This way, we both get what we want. You get me on my best behavior and maybe I get to not be someone you hate anymore.”
“I don’t hate you.” She propped her hands on her hips and glanced over his should
er, toward the air center, her brow creased. “Fine.”
“Fine, what?”
“I’ll…” She bit her lip, rolling her eyes to the heavens as if looking for guidance. “I’ll give you a chance, as long as you don’t get us both fired.”
He smothered his grin. “Deal.”
“You need to do better,” she reiterated.
This time, he couldn’t stop his chuckle. “Firecracker, I told you. You’re safe from me.” He wouldn’t admit how much he wished he hadn’t made that promise, even though it served his purposes here. “From now on, I’m on my best behavior.”
She nodded. Turning, she walked into the building and he watched her go, the grin slipping from his face.
He had years of experience pretending that he didn’t want her. He was at expert level.
As he followed her in, he tried to ignore how much it bothered him that he’d need to go back to that…pretending. Now that he’d allowed his attraction free reins, trying to stuff it back inside him was almost painful.
He’d done hard things before. He could do this.
Joining the others, he hurried now to get his pack together. Nearby, Meg drank from her water bottle. He paused to watch, fascinated by the tilt of her neck, the vulnerable curve of her collar bone.
Dropping his gaze, he forced himself to look away. As he jammed heavy stuff in his pack, trying to get to the required weight, he wondered how many times he’d need to rip his gaze from her in the coming days.
More than a few, he guessed.
* * * *
As Meg waited for the rookies to return from their pack test, she tried not to be nervous or wonder what Lance meant by “a chance.”
To her, it sounded a lot like a chance to get under her skin.
Could she blame him, though? If the roles were reversed, she wouldn’t want to be the town pariah. Maybe he hoped she would help him mend fences with Hunter. That would go a long way to easing his return home.
Except, she had no idea how she would try to be friends—friendly professionals—with him. Not when every time she saw him, she couldn’t stop noticing how he moved, how he smelled, how her body craved him.