by Jenna Gunn
“It was a sensational story,” the mom says, her eyes dancing.
I must have a look of pure dread on my face because the woman tries to reassure me immediately. “Oh don’t worry, you two looked great on camera.”
But did we look like professionals, or did they make complete fools out of us? I want to ask but don’t.
“Hanna, this nice lady was on the news last night. She and her lifeguard boyfriend helped some people off a sinking boat yesterday.”
Squeals of excitement shatter the air. Hanna starts clapping.
Trying to hide my horror, I put my hand over my mouth. Boyfriend. Oh my. This is really bad. I make a move to escape. “Hanna, you can go to the lifeguard stand and ask for a sticker if you’d like one.”
“Mommy! Can we? Can we? Pweese.”
“Sure, babe. Now tell the nice lady goodbye. We’ll watch for her on the news.”
Hanna shouts, “Bye,” then drags her mom off.
Obviously, the lure of the sticker trumps lifeguard chitchat. She bounces up and down and waves her free arm around wildly as they march toward the pale blue lifeguard stand.
My gut is filled with dread as I pace back and forth on the beach. Mitigation. Mitigation. How in the world do you address something like this?
No answers have magically appeared in my head by the time I get back to Lifeguard Station 3. Jeremy is jamming out to some kind Reggae, and everything seems pretty quiet even though a few more people are on the beach now.
“Feeling a little more human?”
“No, actually, I don’t.”
“Must be a really bad roommate thing.”
Dropping into a seat, I wonder if I should tell him about the issue with the media. “That and a few other things.”
He bobs his head to the beat. “What’s got the pretty girl so upset?”
“Did you see the news last night?”
Drumming his fingers on a clipboard, he says, “Nah, I don’t watch that stuff.” He scans the horizon. Then, he suddenly swings his eyes toward me. “I think I know what’s got you all twisted up.”
Nibbling my lip, I’m half afraid to ask. “Oh?”
Chuckling, he comments, “I heard there was a goat rodeo with the newspeople.”
“You could say that.”
“That’s TV for ya, not to mention social media. Crazy shit gets spread around like toxic wildfire.”
I hadn’t even thought about social media! Smacking my hand to my forehead, I get the irresistible urge to just leave. Pack and leave right now.
“Hey, you okay?” his voice is now more serious as he turns down the music.
Still looking at the sand-covered floor, I try to form an answer. “I could be better. Things got a little wacky with the reporters yesterday.”
“Hmm, wacky? That doesn’t sound good.”
“I’m hoping it doesn’t come back to haunt me.”
His eyes widen. “Oh my god, not like a wardrobe malfunction wacky, right?”
Laughter bursts out of me. “No, my clothes were firmly in place.”
“Well, I’m sure if you didn’t accidentally lose your swimsuit, well actually, that might have been great for ratings, but I’m sure it will be okay. We’ve all had weird news experiences in this job. Nothing like having a camera shoved in your face when you’re coming out of the ocean after a rescue with seawater pouring out of your nose.”
We roar over that one till my face hurts. It’s so true. Saltwater pours out of your head sometimes at the most awkward moments. I like Jeremy; he is good for making lifting my spirits. “Thanks for making me laugh. I feel better.”
“Glad I could help.” He stands up, picks up the binoculars, and looks out at the water.
“See anything?”
“Thought I saw someone swimming, but it’s just a seal.”
We go back to doing what we do—watching the water and listening to the radio. Always at the ready.
Jeremy suddenly hops up and grabs his phone from his backpack. “Shh, don’t tell anyone. I gotta text my roommate real quick.”
“I gotcha covered.” I take over his watch and move to stand by the big opening at the front of the tower.
A moment later, he’s standing by my side, and I have to crank my head to look up at him. He’s a good head or so taller than me. “Hey, I know you said your roommate situation is bad. Well, umm, I might have a solution for you.”
That piques my interest. “Oh?”
He’s got a twinkle in his eyes, and I’m curious where this is going.
“My roommate is gone for the next two months for training. He’s a federal agent, and he goes away for like two and three months at a time every year.”
“Nice roommate, huh?”
“Oh yeah, it’s good, but he’s a good guy, and we have a great bromance when he’s around. But anyway,” he smiles a big satisfied smile, “you can take over his room for free until he gets back.”
Huh?
“Your mouth is hanging open,” chuckles Jeremy.
Clamping it closed, I just look at his profile.
“Don’t know what to say?”
“I have no clue how to respond.”
“Maybe something like this? Jeremy, that would be absolutely wonderful, and I’d be really happy to hang out with you and live in your apartment for free.”
Snickering, I answer, “Okay. That works. But really, are you sure?”
“Absolutely. I wouldn’t have brought it up if I wasn’t.”
“Wow, I don’t think anyone has ever done anything so nice for me.”
“I’m a nice guy.”
“Apparently, your roommate is too. Well, thank you, and thank him. Are you sure he won’t mind me being in his room?”
“Girl, he has no problem with it. Of course, he’d rather be there at the same time, sharing his room with my hot coworker.”
I shake my head at his nonsense. “Well, just make sure he doesn’t accidentally come home and crawl into bed one night. I am armed and dangerous.”
That gets a deep laugh from Jeremy. “Good to know. I’ll be sure to tell him and keep that in mind myself.”
Brrrrng!
I nearly jump out of my skin as the old handheld phone on the wall rattles with an incoming call.
Jeremy snickers, “Ha, that was funny as shit.”
“Grrr,” I respond with a show of teeth as he palms the receiver.
He puts on a serious voice when he speaks. “Tower 3, Perry here.” After a second, he says, “Sure, yeah, she’s right here,” Tilting his chin, he eyes me. “Bryce wants to talk to you.”
Oh shit.
My knees are as wobbly as jelly when I move to take the corded phone from his hand.
“Morning, sir.”
There’s a long pause, then Bryce clears his throat. “Carson. We need to talk.” There are voices in the background, and he covers the phone and says something I can’t make out. “Sorry, I’m coming over by truck in a few minutes. Meet me in the parking lot. Tell Jeremy I’m sending Seth over to fill in.”
My heart skips a dozen beats, but I force out, “Sure. Okay.”
He hangs up then, and a resounding click echoes around inside my head. Ah, hell.
Am I getting fired? Are we both getting fired?
Gathering my bag, I give Jeremy the few facts I know. His brow scrunches, which makes my stomach fall. I guess he sees my discomfort as he suddenly tries to reassure me. “Don’t worry. I’m sure everything is fine.”
Tossing my pack on my shoulder, I slide on my extra pair of sunglasses like they are my armor against Bryce Archer. “I sure hope you’re right.”
14
Chapter 14
I’ve got a headache the size of the Goodyear Blimp. I just hope I don’t explode before the day’s over.
Putting the truck in gear, I drive to Tower 3. Raven is standing by the curb when I arrive, her posture as tense as the muscles in my neck.
She jolts when I growl, “Get in.”
Once she’s in, she starts with the questions. “What’s going on?”
“We have to go downtown.”
Her lips clamp shut as she processes that. “To the county offices?”
Grumbling, I reply, “I wish.”
Anger simmers in my gut, but I realize I’m directing it at the wrong place. She really doesn’t deserve my bad attitude. I stop the truck in front of Beach Vibes Cafe. We’ve got time for a coffee and a strategy session.
“Let’s go.”
“This isn’t downtown.”
“Observant, aren’t you?”
“Smartass, aren’t you?”
The veneer on my face cracks and I feel the corner of my lips tip up in a grin. “Come on. We’ve got time for coffee and to make a plan before we have to be at the news station.”
She gasps, “News station?”
“We’re going to be on the Tuesday at Twelve lunchtime show.”
Raven comes to a screeching halt. “Oh, no. You can do that. Not me.”
Turning to face her, I’m tempted to pull the boss card but decide against it. “We’re in this together.”
She fidgets with her ponytail and glances away before she meets my eyes again. “Did you watch the news last night? A woman on the beach mentioned it.”
“I did. But I wish I didn’t. Have you seen the newspaper?”
“No,” she says, her eyes wide.
“We’re in this together,” I echo. “Rescue Sweethearts. The picture in the paper was just what you thought it was about. Love in Lifeguard Tower Number One or some bullshit like that.”
Raven melts down and plops right onto the curb, dropping her hands listlessly by her sides. “God, no.”
Sitting down next to her, I slump into acceptance that this isn’t going away without us dealing with it.
“I talked to the top County Manager, Damon Wood, and about ten other people this morning. They think we should play along.”
Gasping, Raven draws away from me as if I’ve spit on her. “What?”
“Play along. Have a little fun with it. Damon said it would be good press. You know, something positive and fun.”
She looks horrified. “Fun?”
“Look, I agree. He suggested we say we are not a couple, just friends, but to keep it light and fun and let people think what they think.” I stand and grab Raven’s hand. It’s cold and clammy in my palm. “Come on. Let’s get some coffee and sit in the shade and figure out what we should say.”
Her arm is limp like a wilted noodle when I pull on it. I finally drag her to her feet. “Come on.”
Raven’s eyes look too misty, and my gut twists in a knot.
Mumbling, she follows along behind me. “What kind of cruel joke is fate playing on me?”
Seeing her dejected and sad bugs me. I want the mad Raven back. She’s easier to deal with. “Where’s that spitfire who was shooting daggers at me yesterday?”
“She’s tired.”
“We can fix tired with coffee.”
“I don’t like coffee.”
“What?” I pin her with a look. “You don’t like coffee?”
“No, I don’t like coffee. Or tea.”
“Geez woman, what kind of cyborg are you?” When I open the door to Beach Vibes, Raven is looking a little more like herself. Maddy immediately calls out to us, “Hey, you two! What can I get ya?”
“Coffee for me, but I’m not sure what cyborgs drink. She doesn’t like coffee or tea. Can’t be human.”
“I got it, don’t worry. I know just what to make.” Maddy disappears into the back.
“She knows you?”
Raven nods. “Just barely, but she’s good with people.”
I cross my arms and lean against the counter. Raven’s good with people, too, and the County guys are all smitten with her. Let’s just hope the hosts on the television show are too.
She looks tired, though. “Did you sleep?”
She studies me for a second with her sapphire eyes, the dark circles under her eyes a little more pronounced today. “Not much.”
“Me, either,” I admit. Not my best time to be on a show.
“Guess we make good company then.”
Maddy pops out, emerging through the rainbow color beads that dangle over her kitchen doorway. “Alrighty, here you go. One black coffee, large, and one blueberry coconut strawberry smoothie. I added a little peppermint for a kick. You look like you could use it, hun.”
After tapping a few buttons on her computer, the total shows up on the little screen. I slide my work credit card through the reader, add a tip, and sign.
A small paper bag appears on the counter. “Here’s a little something extra. I’m guessing you two have had a rough morning, so I hope it helps.”
“Thanks, Maddy.” Grabbing both cups and the bag, I motion for the door. Raven precedes me out and points to a bench near the rental umbrellas. I follow her, and against my best judgment, I watch the way her finely shaped ass moves as she goes.
When she sits, I hand her the smoothie, place the bag between us, and settle my big frame onto the small bench. The damned thing was made for kindergartners, making my knees come up to my neck.
Raven glances over and grins as I try to get comfortable. “Guess it’s for normal size people.”
“First graders, maybe,” I say with a chuckle.
The coffee is good, as always—black, rich, and hot as it slides over my tongue.
If only everything else were so simple.
Neither of us speaks. Raven fiddles with the lid on her smoothie, then opens the bag and peers inside. The smell of warm, delicious bananas and spice drifts out and arouses my taste buds. “Is that banana bread?”
“Sure looks like it.” Raven pinches off a bite and passes it through her lips. “Sure tastes like it too.”
“Give me that.” I grab for the bag, but she’s quicker.
“Don’t worry. There’s plenty for both of us.” She removes a thick wedge of golden brown banana bread wrapped in wax paper and passes it to me. Her fingers brush mine as she passes it over. The urge to grab her hand is strong. Like my skin craves the sizzle that passes between us.
Setting her pastry on her lap, she smooths out the edges of the wrapper. “So, what are we going to do?”
Chewing slowly, I think. “Go to the interview.”
“Gosh, I didn’t know that,” she says with a little sarcastic laugh.
“I’m not done.”
“You talk too slow.”
“A woman from Texas cannot say I talk slow. Back to what I was saying, we go, smile, look pretty—well, you, at least, will look pretty—and we play along. But if they ask if we are a couple, then we say no, that’s not allowed between coworkers.”
She nibbles on her bread, pinching off dainty bites with her fingers. Finally, she looks squarely at me, her eyes serious. “This doesn’t look good for me.”
“Look, you don’t know me, but if you did, you’d understand why this makes me squirm too. I think back to the many conversations with my father, who was also my boss, about my playboy attitude and trail of short and lusty affairs. Only, I hope I’ve proven my worth and maturity since those days, but the way I used to be is still nipping at my heels.”
She processes that for a second. “What did the newspaper look like?”
“I’ve got it in the truck if you want to see it.”
She nods. Steam rises from my coffee as I set it on the ground. Less than a minute later, I return with the folded paper in my fist. Tossing it on the bench, I go back to the banana bread.
“Argh! It’s worse than I thought.” Raven’s voice is barely above a whisper. Her jaw is tight; her fingers blanched white as she grasps the paper. A second later, her voice rises, “Why, the nerve of them!”
“It’s a good photo of you,” I say as I peer over the rim of my coffee cup at her. I like her fired up. Grinning, I continue to point out, “And not too bad of me either, but it’s not my best angle. I should have f
lexed my arms a bit more.”
“Stop, will you! This is serious.”
“It looks serious, doesn’t it.” I nod toward the paper. “You can practically see the chemistry between us.”
Her lips peel back in a snarl. “For heaven’s sake, I look like a lovesick bimbo. Like I worship the ground you walk on. You’re my big strong hero. Yuck!”
Coffee almost spews from my mouth. “That’s pretty dramatic.”
“Well, that’s what it looks like. Like I’m mooning over you. Jesus, did I really do that?”
Frowning, I ask, “Mooning? Is that even a real word?”
Growling like she’s out for revenge, she sets her sights on me. The newspaper swings dangerously close, whooshing through the air as she makes a move to playfully swat me. I duck and save the coffee and the remains of my pastry.
“Well, whatever you call it these days. I’m sure you know because I bet women look at you like that all the time.”
“Like as if men don’t look at you…”
She shakes her head and changes the subject. “Are we going like this?”
Glancing down, I look at my uniform. “Sure, is there something wrong with this? Did I spill coffee or something?”
“No, not at all, just checking. I have a hairbrush and some lipgloss in the truck.”
She looks beautiful already, and I’m glad to see she didn’t wear her baseball cap today even though she looks cute in it too. I like the silky shine of her hair and the way a few little strands slip loose and fall around her ear.
Dragging my eyes away from her, I look out to where the sun is sparkling like diamonds on the ocean, longing for the days when I was just a guard hanging out in Tower 3. But that kind of easy life is gone, exchanged for politics, meetings, schedules, and walking on thin ice. For wanting a woman that I can’t have.
Raven’s quiet. I hear the rustle of wax paper and the crunch of the paper bag. “Bryce? Are my chances at the job done?”
“Pfft, hardly. You’re just getting started. Let’s just go get this over with. Ready?”
‘“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
A harried-looking assistant at the news station welcomes us. She hustles us into a room with refreshments, a couple of stiff looking chairs, and a door that’s marked restroom. “You can freshen up in there if you like.”