by Desiree Holt
“Well?” Adara nudged her. “What do you think?”
“Like I said, I think he’s probably as much of an ass as every other man in here,” Holly snapped, jerking back to reality. Alpha males made all her defenses pop up and lock in place.
“Well, geez, Holly.” Adara blotted the perspiration on her forehead with the towel around her neck. “Are you ever gonna take that bug out of your ass? The longer you hold on to what happened, the harder it will be to let go. Stop giving that jerk so much power.”
Holly shrugged, doing her best to wipe unpleasant memories from her mind. Adara was the only person outside her family who knew what had sent her hightailing it from North Carolina. She had arrived in San Diego a big hot mess, an emotional wreck, but determined to build a new life. The best thing to come out of it was her chance to pursue her dream of becoming a firefighter. A dream put on hold for so long, because…
Stop! Just stop!
“I hear you. But you know, they don’t exactly wear signs that say Not a Jerk.”
She was very comfortable behind her high wall of defense. She was finished being the one in a relationship who did all the giving and then got virtually smacked in return. She had control of her life now, and that’s the way things were going to stay.
Out of nowhere Brad’s words leaped to life in her brain.
“A firefighter? Come on, Holly. That’s not a job for a woman. People will think I’m marrying a guy.”
Even now the words still had the power to hurt. With ruthless determination, she shoved them away.
Adara squeezed her arm. “You know I’m here for you. Just don’t smack me when I tell you you’re wasting your life because of some shithead. You’re more than that, Holly.”
She was, and she knew it. She wasn’t one to wallow in misery, either. But Brad’s words had cut deeply, and she couldn’t seem to wipe them out of her brain. She was too smart to give someone that kind of power over her, yet she couldn’t seem to break the hold.
Get over it, Holly. And be nicer to guys. They aren’t all assholes.
Maybe.
“I’m good.” Holly’s words were clipped, and she spit them out like bullets. “I’m doing just fine. In fact, I’m so fine I think I’ll do some more core exercises before I finish for the night.”
Adara threw up her hands. “Whatever. Maybe I’ll make a move on Mr. Hot Guy myself.”
Holly shrugged. “You do whatever you want. I’ve got other things to do.”
“Hey! It’s not as if I get to hang with gorgeous firefighters every day.”
Holy tamped down her irritation. “First of all, I don’t hang with them, I work with them. And second, to them I’m just one of the guys, and that’s the way I want it. I keep telling you I’m not interested. Not in them or anyone else. Can we finally be done with this conversation?”
Adara cocked her head. “You need to stop being so snotty about it. The old Holly was a really nice person.”
“Are you implying I’m not nice anymore?”
“No, just…” She flapped her hand. “Never mind.
But Holly knew the truth of that. Sometimes she missed the old Holly, the one who’d laughed spontaneously and thought life was an adventure. Then she’d discovered sometimes the adventure wasn’t what you thought it would be. Sometimes it turned into a battle for control. Now she had all the control she wanted or needed, because she didn’t let anyone in close enough to challenge her.
“Holly? Are you here with me?”
Adara was staring at her.
“Yeah. What did you say?”
“I think I’ll go see for myself what’s what with Mr. Hot Guy. If you don’t want him, I’m going to check him out.”
“You go ahead and do your usual thing.” Holly grinned. “I’ll watch the show from here.”
She’d discovered her former roommate loved to explore uncharted waters. Not that she went swimming in all of them. Far from it. She was very selective. But she did love a challenge. She watched as Adara moved across the room to the machine next to the one “Mr. Hot Guy” was using. Well, okay, he was sexy. She couldn’t lie about that. But sexy men, in her history, were untrustworthy, domineering, and a total pain in the ass. Brad McKeller had taught her that. He was—
Nope. She shut down that line of thinking. Not going there, not now, not ever again. She’d left him and all the bad memories that went with him back home in North Carolina.
“You think I want to come home and fuck someone dressed in turnout gear? Me or your butch job fetish, Holly. Make the wrong choice and we’re done.”
Yeah, they’d definitely been done. When she’d moved out of his place, she’d cried enough for the rest of her life. Then she’d packed up her things and left for the future she’d always dreamed of. Far away from her parents who thought she was crazy and Brad who thought she was…less than feminine.
Only her brother, Will, had supported her, even though he’d had reservations.
“Be sure you know what you want, kiddo,” he’d urged her.
“I do,” she’d insisted. “This is my dream, and I’m not letting anyone talk me out of it any longer.”
“I just worry about you being out there away from everyone, starting all over. No support system.”
“I have Adara,” she’d pointed out. “I’ll be fine.” She’d squeezed his hands. “Just be there for me if I need you.”
“Always,” he’d promised, and kissed her forehead. “Just…be careful with yourself. Next time choose wisely.”
She wanted to tell him there would never be a next time. She was done. Finished.
San Diego was a fresh new start for her, and she had no intention of letting some jerkoff ruin it. Someday, maybe, she’d find a man who wasn’t threatened by her choice of careers. But not now. Not for a long time. It certainly wouldn’t be some macho idiot like this one, an idiot who, objectively speaking, was indeed as hot as Adara said. Who set her misbehaving hormones to do a jitterbug if she was honest. Not that she was interested. Not one single bit.
Liar!
Still, she watched as Adara made her approach, waiting for the guy to finish his reps before trying her perfected, smooth intro on him. She was sure he’d—
Wait! What? That didn’t look like any friendly intro-to-hookup conversation going on over there. The smile on Hot Guy’s face was little more than polite, and Adara’s entire posture screamed frustration. This was a first. Holly had yet to see anyone turn down her friend. Tall and lithe, with a tumbled mass of dark hair and curves in all the right places, she was usually fighting them off. Hmm. Didn’t this guy like women?
In less than two minutes, Adara was back, frowning.
“Don’t tell me Mr. Hot Guy was immune to your charms?” Holly teased. “Maybe you should give him another chance.”
“In his dreams,” Adara snarked. “I don’t know what his problem is, but he was damn near rude to me.”
Holly shrugged. “Maybe he’s just antisocial.”
“Like someone else I know.”
“Har, har, har. Anyway, he’s something, that’s for sure. Come on. Let’s finish our routines and get a pizza. I think we’ve earned some fat calories tonight.”
“Okay. I can go for that. Food is a lot less complicated than men.”
And wasn’t that just the truth. Too bad it irritated the crap out of her that all through the rest of her workout, and even while they scarfed down their pizza, she couldn’t get the image of Mr. Hot Guy out of her brain.
Chapter 2
Chase turned his face up to the sun and let its rays warm his skin. A breeze blew the waters of San Diego Bay into soft white caps, and the salty tang of the water filled the air. As the cutter skimmed across the water, he thought about how lucky he was.
Would he be here today if not for the Granite Falls Coyotes and Coach Fenelli, the man who’d been like a second father to him? When a scholarship to a major university had not materia
lized, he’d had to examine other options. How lucky was it that the coach, who always seemed to be saving someone’s ass one way or another, had asked him one day if he liked the water? Chase thought the man was crazy but had said sure. He loved the water. Went to the lake as much as possible. He even wanted to major in marine science.
The next thing he knew he had a brochure from the United States Coast Guard Academy, and Fenelli was helping him fill out the application. The school was tuition-free and they had a Division III football team. His research had shown him how difficult it was to get in, but he had excellent grades and good recommendations. Before he’d finished celebrating graduation, he was off to New London, Connecticut, with his father’s blessing. He’d never looked back.
He found something he completely believed in. Something solid. Men who were like family to him, just as his high school football team had been. And something that helped him learn to believe in himself. He’d also met the man who became his best friend, John McFarland. How fortunate that they continued to be assigned together, even after all these years. If he missed having a woman in his life on more than a temporary basis, he pushed it from his mind. He’d had enough disasters. Maybe Fate was sending him a signal to stay single. When he thought about his future, he focused on the Coast Guard. It gave him a feeling of satisfaction that he’d never found in anything else. Or with anyone else, for that matter.
He loved the Guard. Sometimes he thought it had been made just for him. They dealt with everything from drug interdiction, to escorting cruise liners into port, to search and rescue. SAR as it was known, was a big part of what the Coast Guard did. The small cutter Chase commanded handled all that. Some days there was little for them to do except patrol the waters and check for any problems. Sometimes it was a legitimate rescue caused by bad weather or other equally understandable conditions. Whatever the assignment, he focused 100 percent on it. And if his friends made jokes about the Coast Guard being his social life, well, how bad could that be?
“I don’t think those people will be out sailing again any time soon.” John came up to where Chase was standing.
Chase gave a short laugh. “One can hope, but we’ve seen too many people like this who never learn their lesson. Then we have to save their asses again.”
“No shit.”
He glanced at the two couples sitting up at the bow, huddled in blankets and sipping coffee.
“We wouldn’t have had to do a rescue today if they hadn’t been so stupid.”
“Roger that,” John agreed.
A radio distress call had sent them to two couples on a capsized sailboat with more money than brains.
“They shouldn’t be renting a sailboat if they don’t know how to sail. Can you believe one of the guys told me they read all about it on a computer?”
John snorted. “It’s hardly the same as actually being taught firsthand. They managed to get that mainsail badly tangled and then somehow screwed up the little emergency motor.”
“At least the dumbasses figured out how to use the radio the rental office installed.”
“Jeb tries to prepare for all eventualities.”
Jeb Varner, who owned this particular sailboat, had a lower opinion of newbies than Chase did, but he did his best to keep his customers safe.
“Too bad you couldn’t show up last night.” John’s words were a subtle dig.
Chase shrugged. “Yeah, I had something to take care of.”
“Is that so? Like what? Because I’m pretty sure there isn’t one thing about your life I don’t know about.”
Chase forced a smile. “I do have some secrets, you know.” Would his friend ever get off his case about this stuff?
“Well, it’s not a woman, that’s for sure.” John shook his head. “Look. Last night when we were all celebrating Mancini’s engagement and admiring his good taste, something suddenly occurred to me. Maybe the real reason you didn’t show.”
“And that is?” Chase wasn’t happy with the turn this conversation was taking.
“You’ve dated some very nice women since we’ve been here, but after three or four dates they’re history. Ten years is a long time to isolate yourself because of one bad apple. Shit, Chase, get over it already. Next time just don’t choose a cheating ballbuster.”
It wasn’t that he didn’t like women. He did as much as the next man. But he had no intention of skating close to that trap. Not ever again. He could tell John it wasn’t just the one episode in his life, but he’d never shared the others with him. He had no intention of doing so now. And yeah, he should have had a better read on Cheryl, but she’d been so good for his ego after the disaster with his high school girlfriend. He’d missed all the signs.
“There are a lot of really good ones still in the basket,” his friend persisted. “Mancini’s got himself a winner. So do some of the rest of them, including me.”
“Things are going well with Amy, then?”
“Damn straight.” John grinned “It’s all in making the right choice, buddy.”
“I’m fine the way I am.” Chase did his best to hang on to his temper. He was so tired of his friend’s well-meaning gibes.
“Damn it, Chase. Are you going to let that bitch ruin the rest of your life for you? It’s enough, already.”
“I have no idea what you mean.” Chase leaned on the rail, hoping John would take the hint.
But his friend was, if nothing else, tenacious.
“You know damn well what I mean. Like I said, it’s all about the right choices. It’s past time you accepted the fact Cheryl was a bad match to begin with.”
The last thing he wanted to think about was Cheryl Dodd, today or any other day. The only thing better than wiping away her memory would be if he’d never met her at all. Bad choice? Probably. Or maybe he just had flawed judgment where women were concerned. Whatever. He was done trying to prove to women that he was worth keeping. His own mother hadn’t thought he was, so why would anyone else?
“Chase?” John’s voice poked into his mental wanderings. “Where’d you go, buddy?
Chase frowned at him. “Are you my personal counselor or something? What the fuck?”
“No, just…” He gave Chase a hard, assessing look. “Just nothing. Except you can’t keep avoiding stuff like last night. Len tried not to show it, but he was upset you weren’t there. Are you planning to cut out on his wedding too?”
“I’ll be there. Listen, can we please discuss something else? I feel like we’re having a ladies’ gabfest here.”
“Sure. Okay.” John winked, then all humor left his face. “But just let me say this. If a woman should happen to walk into your life who might change your mind, don’t push her way. You hear me? Give it a chance.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Think hard, because I’ll tell you, Chase, one of these days some woman is going to show up and knock your socks off, and you won’t be able to do a thing about it. And I’ll be standing on the sidelines watching, laughing my ass off, and clapping.”
“I said I’d think about,” he snapped, then dialed it back. “Sorry, but can we please drop the subject?”
He wanted to forget the whole conversation. Too bad that out of the blue his thoughts turned to the sassy female he’d met at Pump It Up. God. Talk about an attitude. He wondered if she every got tired toting around that chip on her shoulder. Yet, he couldn’t forget her tall, toned body with legs that went on forever. Or the high, round breasts or the nice tight ass with muscles that flexed when she walked.
The mental image of her sent a message straight to his cock. The damn thing hardened and stood up to salute. He turned away from John, hoping his friend hadn’t noticed anything, and willed his body into submission. He didn’t need to get a hard-on right now, especially about a woman who had an invisible sign tattooed on her forehead that read Trouble.
Fortunately they were coming into port, so he had responsibilities to keep him busy. He s
potted Jeb Varner waiting for them, ready to take charge of the sailboat they’d towed behind them. And probably about to give the two couples a good piece of his mind. The four passengers shook hands with him and with John, thanking them and trying to hide their embarrassment. He was glad enough to hand them over to Jeb.
After that he and John and the rest of the crew were busy with the boat and making their report, so he didn’t have time to think about Miss Sass, which he’d decided was a great name for her. Instead, he looked ahead to what was waiting for him as soon as he changed.
He loved coaching Pop Warner football. It was a perfect way for him to stay connected to the game and use the knowledge he had. He saw in these kids the same enthusiasm for the game he’d had at their age. When a defender blocked a receiver and prevented a catch, he got the same thrill as if he’d been the one doing it.
“Pigskin practice tonight?” John asked as they walked away from the boat.
“The Strykers?” Chase nodded. “You bet. I look forward to it. Those kids are really coming along.”
“You’re just as in love with the game as you were in high school, aren’t you?”
Chase nodded. “For me that never goes away. I might not be playing anymore, but sharing my knowledge with those kids is almost as satisfying.”
“Not many people can say they were on two championship teams,” John reminded him. “So let me ask you a question.”
Chase quirked an eyebrow. “About the youth league? You looking to get involved?”
“No. Yes.” John shrugged. “I dunno. What I really want to know is if you ever miss it.”
“It?” Chase frowned. “Which ‘it’ are you talking about?”