by Jenna Gunn
Raven takes the cue and heads off to the restroom. I drop onto one of the chairs. Should have known it wouldn’t be the kind of chair you drop into. A shock from the hard ass seat reverberates up into my skull. My headache was feeling better. But now, not so much.
The Green Room is boring, so I dig into the bowl on the end table to find a decent mint, the chocolate-covered kind. A couple of minutes later, Raven emerges, looking all fresh and bright. Her hair is down now, laying across her shoulders and brushed to a sheen. Her lips look kissable as fuck, glossed with a pale pink shimmer.
Ten bucks that stuff tastes like candy.
Delicious, taboo candy.
I can hardly take my eyes off her.
She jumps back a little when she sees me eyeing her. “What? Is there something on my face?”
Grinning, I tease, “Lips. A nose. Eyebrows. You know, the usual.”
Laughing, she reaches into her own bowl of candy and grabs something. “You’re just a funny guy.”
“Actually, I’m not. People call me grouchy.”
At work, at least. I have been called the life of the party too, but that’s a whole other story.
“Well, you kind of are,” she admits as she unwraps the exact same kind of mint I picked.
“Captain Archer?” a voice calls from the door. The assistant has come to collect us.
“Showtime?”
The woman nods and waves a hand for us to hurry. “Everything happens fast around here. You can just leave your bag, hunny. It will be here when you get back.”
In a flurry of movement, we’re whisked onto a stage. A fake wall with a fake window makes it look like we are in a living room, and bright lights glare overhead. People bustle around, doing who knows what.
The woman’s frizzy hair glows under the bright light like she’s been cooked by all that wattage. She half drags Raven and pushes her down onto a little sofa. A guy appears from nowhere and starts running a wire down the back of Raven’s shirt. She looks totally startled as the young guy hooks up a microphone and does a test by leaning in toward her neck. “Testing, 1, 2,”
Before I know what’s happening, the woman shoves my ass down on the same tiny sofa. It is too…my hip hits Raven’s with a thud. She yelps. “Sorry. It’s kind of small.” I shrug.
Wiggling, I try to fit between her and the arm of the yellow chair-couch, which proves to be damn tight.
“Jeez, do you fit on any furniture?” she mumbles as she tries to figure out how to sit next to me.
“Real furniture. Not play furniture.”
The same guy reaches for me with a mic. Before he has time to shove his hand down the back of my shirt, I snatch the wire, box, and mic away from him. “I’ll take care of that.”
Speechless, the twenty-something hipster stands there slack-jawed. “Uh—”
“I know. I’ve got this. It’s not my first rodeo.” I flip on the mic, position it on my hip, fish the wire up under my shirt. When I clip it in place, I give a quick check. The guy shrugs and walks off.
I get back to trying to figure out how to best fit in the loveseat or whatever they call this damn thing without Raven having to sit on my lap.
I can’t hold back the grin at that idea.
“What are you so happy about?”
“Oh, nothing.”
She jabs her elbow into my ribs. “Stop wiggling around.”
At that very instant, the hosts of the show appear. They practically run across the stage and hop into their seats. The woman smoothes down her skirt, touches her helmet hair, and runs her tongue across her teeth. The man preens almost as much.
I can’t remember her name. Lord, I hope I don’t have to recall it. She looks like a Trina or a Trixie. My mind locks onto Trixie for some stupid reason—TV Trixie.
Someone counts down, then the show begins.
The woman’s big white teeth flash under the fake lights. “Friends, we have two of the most exciting guests with us today. Ocean County’s very own lifeguard rescue couple. They made a death-defying rescue of Councilman Brightly’s daughter yesterday. And today, they're here to tell us about that and share with us what it’s like to work such an exciting job together.”
The man leans in, “Captain Archer, I understand you’ve been on the force for twelve years. I bet you’ve saved a lot of lives.”
I force what I hope is a pleasant curve onto my mouth before saying, “That’s our job. We rescue people from the ocean.”
TV Tom, which is what I’m calling the man, turns to Raven. “And you, young lady, I understand you are brand new to Ocean County’s Rescue team.”
Raven smiles—she sure looks a lot more genuine. “Yes, sir. I am a recruit. I’m trying out to become a permanent member of the team.”
The woman cuts in, “Did you date before you tried out for the job?”
Oh boy. Here we go.
Raven shifts a little against my thigh, but her voice comes out calm and steady. “Actually, Captain Archer is my boss, not my boyfriend. We just work together.”
The woman winks at the camera. “Well, folks, what do you think? I think they should date. They sure do look great together.”
Tom or whatever his name is, chimes in again, “So, tell us about the rescue yesterday, Captain Archer. I hear you handed over the helm of your boat to this new rescuer.”
“I did. As part of the operation, I needed to perform other tasks while Recruit Carson took the helm.”
“And how did she do?”
“Great. She’s got all the skills required to perform the job.”
The woman pipes in, “So, Ms. Carson, what’s it like working with all those men?”
It’s subtle, but I see Raven’s eyebrow rise just a tad before it drops back down. “Well, I worked as a rescuer before, so I’m accustomed to male-centric workplaces. They treat me very respectfully. Really, it’s a non-issue.”
TV Trixie grins, “Well, I sure bet the view is nice.”
Her co-host chimes back in, and he looks almost a little embarrassed at the woman’s comment. “It’s not every day a woman is hired to Ocean Rescue, is that correct?”
I reply, “That’s true, but we would gladly consider more women applicants if they tried out.”
With a gleam in her eye, the woman looks right at the camera. “Well, ladies, did you hear that? There’s a prime opportunity to work on the beach and look at hot lifeguards all day.”
It takes all my willpower to keep my eyes from bulging. Raven speaks out suddenly, surprising me. “Actually, it would be great if more women knew they have the opportunity to work in jobs like fire and rescue. Don’t be afraid to train and try out. If you think you’d be a good fit for the job, then you should go for it. You need to be strong and determined, but women of all kinds can do this.”
The man grins, “I like her.”
So do I…but for very different reasons.
Well, maybe not.
I reconsider as I catch the old dude taking an appraising look at Raven’s bare legs.
The woman turns her attention on me, and I don’t like what I see in her eyes. Something weird is about to go down. “Captain Archer, weren’t you auctioned off at the bachelor auction last year?”
Fuck a duck.
I wondered if that was gonna haunt me one day.
Clearing my throat does nothing to stop the heat that’s climbing toward my hairline. “Um, yes. Several of our team were part of the fundraiser.”
“I remember you being quite the talk of the town.”
I feel Raven’s eyes on me.
“The auction was a big success.”
“I bet it was!” laughs TV Trixie. “I’d pay a chunk of money to have dinner with you.”
A small groan slips out of me. Please let someone change the subject, or maybe I’ll be struck by lightning on the spot. Whatever. Anything is better than this.
The man seems to register my discomfort, and he thankfully asks the next question. “So, what advice do you have fo
r beachgoers?”
Whew. I send up a silent thank you to whoever intervened on my behalf.
Before I can speak, Raven takes the lead. “Check the weather, obey the swimming flags if they say caution or no swimming, and take a boating safety class. If you don’t know how to swim, take swimming lessons. And if you’re not sure of your swimming ability, then wear a Personal Flotation Device at all times in and around the water.
TV Tom smiles and nods approvingly. He’s about to say something when Raven jumps in again, “If you get caught in a rip current, swim along the beach, not toward the beach. Don’t swim against the flow of the water.”
I grin. Damn. Go girl.
Turning toward the camera, the man makes a little clapping motion with his hands. “Thank you, Recruit Carson. That was great. Did you hear that, ladies and gentlemen? We’ll put that list of good advice on the website after the show. And that’s all we have time for now. Thank you both for coming on today.”
But before the camera can cut, TV Trixie just has to get in one more comment as she quips, “I can’t wait to see you two again, hopefully in the engagement section of the paper!”
“Cut!” someone yells off to the left of the stage. Half of the face-baking lights shut off, and the microphone guy appears and holds out both hands for his equipment.
I wiggle my way free from the couch, nearly dragging Raven with me. We both basically have to stand up at the same time to make it out of the grip of the arms of the sofa.
The woman makes a beeline for me and thrusts her hand out. “So nice to meet you in person.”
I do the bare minimum and shake her hand for one brief second. “Thanks for having us.”
Turning, I find Raven in the clutch of TV Tom. Uh oh. The look in the guy's eye is a little too interested. It sends a streak of green through my vision. Dropping my hand on Raven’s shoulder, I move in closer. The man seems to falter in his words for a second as he glances up at me.
“You’ve got yourself a keeper. The force is lucky to have this fine young lady.”
Grunting, I throw the guy a back off glare. You’d think a hot potato landed in his palm the way he drops Raven’s hand.
“Ready to go?”
Raven nods, and I place my hand on the small of her back and scoot her around in front of me. I wait on her as she grabs her bag from the Green Room, and I finally sigh in relief when we are back in the truck.
When I look over, Raven is laughing so hard that tears are rolling down her cheeks.
“What in the world?”
“Bachelor auction?”
Heat rises in my face again.
Fuck. I never blush.
“It was for a good cause.”
Sniffing, she digs out a tissue from her bag and continues to laugh. “That woman looked at you like you were dessert in a five-star restaurant.”
“Well, he wasn’t much better. They were both creepy.”
Raven joins my laughter over the ridiculousness of what just happened. When she finally catches her breath, she thanks me for “pulling the possessive glare out.”
“You’re welcome. He did jump back pretty quick.”
“I’d run if you gave me that look.”
“What look is that?”
“Like you’re going to knock his teeth through the back of his head.”
Grinning, I joke, “So violent.”
Relaxing back into the seat, she scans her eyes over me. “It’s true.”
“Okay, so maybe that’s what I was intending.”
“Well, thanks. I could have handled it, though.”
When I speak, my voice is kind of weird and gravely. “But I did it for you.”
Her eyes linger on my face when she says, “I guess I owe you.”
“You can buy me at the auction this year, save me from that woman.”
She blinks, and the heat in her eyes rises. Her desire is plain as day.
My body is flooded with edgy want.
Before I realize what I’m doing, I’m leaning toward her across the bench seat of the truck. She holds perfectly still, and a little “ah” sound escapes her parted lips.
Her deep, dark sapphire eyes are wide, curious as I lean in. Somehow, my hand finds its way to her cheek, then under the heavy curtain of her long dark brown hair. Her lips press into a little pout, then that little sound she makes comes again.
I can’t stop myself.
Her magnetism, my undoing.
She tastes like strawberry lip gloss.
Those pink lips are as soft as I remember.
I register these random thoughts in between the bolts of arousal that sear through my brain.
Raven holds perfectly still.
I don’t…I couldn’t hold still if a gun were pointed at my head.
My tongue finds hers in a full-on quest.
She shivers, sending heat pouring through my veins like lava.
Then she moves against me, and her tongue curls around mine—I’m burned to cinders.
Her hand clasps onto my bicep, and the bite of her fingernails sting as she opens her mouth to me.
So good.
Delicious nectar of the gods.
Just so goddamn perfect for me.
Pulling her toward me, I work my other hand around her back. Spreading my fingers, I easily span her feminine frame.
So perfect.
Raven moans and fastens her other hand around the column of my neck. Her fingers sear my skin.
God. I want those hands all over me again.
When we’re both starved for air, I pull back, hating the need to breathe.
Her body shakes under my touch, setting my hands on fire. Every cell in my body is in conquest mode again.
It’s a bad fucking thing.
I’m skittering toward the edge of something dark and dangerous.
Snapping my body backward, I hurl myself into the driver’s seat and grip the wheel with both hands.
I will not touch her again.
My knuckles turn arctic white as I crush the grey plastic steering wheel.
I’m wasted.
I can still hear Raven panting next to me.
Growling at no one but myself, I snap, “Fuck. You’ve ruined me.”
Those blue eyes are as big as lakes when I finally look at her. Her chest is rising and falling in quick shaky movements. Pink brightens both her cheeks and moves down onto her neck. Her lips are swollen and damp from my mouth. It’s obvious as hell that my hand has been buried in her hair.
And there’s no taking it back. I’m such an idiot.
She just stares at me, unblinking.
“Say something,” I bark.
“What should I say?” her voice is as unsteady as my stomach.
“Anything.”
Her eyes narrow. “I hope no one saw that.”
I groan. Fuck. Fucking. Fuck. I didn’t even think of that.
15
Chapter 15
He did this to me. Reduced me to nothing more than shivery hormones and breathy moans.
I need a shield. Or a vaccine. A vitamin! Or something, anything, to ward off what that man does to me.
Boy, did I underestimate what he would do to me when he touched me like that.
He kissed me like a man unhinged today.
All hunger and heat. Possession and drive.
Lord, why does he have to be my boss?
I’ve wanted kisses like that all my life. I mean, what girl doesn’t want to have their panties set on fire like that?
But why?
Why does it have to be him?
It’s like the cruelest joke of the universe.
Get the job you want or get the man of your fantasies.
Cruel. That’s what it is.
The air in the cab of the truck is thick with unspoken frustration. Bryce shows the county work truck no mercy as he hurtles us back toward the station house.
He’s going too fast, cutting in and out of traffic. If this truck has one of th
ose “How’s My Driving: Call 1800-REPORTME” stickers on the bumper, they’re gonna have a call center overload.
Honestly, I don’t care that he’s driving twenty over. I can’t think about much of anything except the feel of his hard, harsh mouth on mine.
The truck has barely stopped moving when Bryce jumps from it, lunging out into the parking lot of the rescue station.
With a loud crack, the door slams closed behind him, rocking the truck. His broad shoulders are tight with anger as he storms toward the building.
I know he’s mad at himself, not me.
He’s not alone. I should have stopped him today. Should have, but after that television interview, I figured, what the hell. I’m in this now. There are so many ways this thing can go sideways.
So, I let him kiss the ever-living hell out of me one more time.
A moment of weakness. Hormone overload.
Now I’m all a mess, inside and out. It wouldn’t take a math major to add up one-plus-one equals fraternization. I’m sure I look like…oh, yowza…I look like I just got my socks knocked off. Peering in the little visor mirror, I take stock of the damage.
It’s bad.
But it just made me remember what I looked like when he really had his way with me.
Squeezing my thighs together, I try to get the hell away from that thought.
The brush snags on the tangles that his fingers left, and when I finally get them out, I whip my hair back into a ponytail—my standard look for work. Maybe splashing some water on my face will help with that starry-eyed teenage girl look.
Awkward silence welcomes me as I enter the building. No one on the ground level. Should I go up to the viewing platform? I’m not really sure what to do since my spot on Tower 3 is being covered. The logical thing would be to go upstairs. Find Bryce.
Yeah. Not going to do that.
Glancing up the stairs, I fight with myself. Suddenly, the door above pops open, and I freeze. Only, I realize it’s Brandon Archer, twin to the man who just nearly kissed me to death. It feels way too much like Bryce is looking at me as he trots down the stairs toward me.