Page 8 of Beyond Perfect

“I want you to promise me you’ll call somebody this week.”

Joe always pushed him.

“All right. I will.” He picked up the menu, signaling they were done with heavy stuff. After they both ordered BLTs, Jackson sat back and grinned. “Tell me about your female firefighter.”

Joe had had only male firefighters on his squad, until they asked for a fifth person and got Lara Swanson. “Yikes, now that’s a story.”

* * *

Joe was still thinking about Jackson as he drove to the fire station. He was off duty today but decided to go in to finish up some paperwork. There was never enough time to do it on his regular shift because his firehouse was so busy.

Once he arrived, he saw the bay was closed, which meant today’s crew had gone out on a call. Better for him to concentrate. He walked in through the kitchen. It could use some new appliances, but it was well kept. The wood cabinets shone in the sun coming in through the windows. The somewhat worn hardwood floor was clean as were the counters. Neatness was important to firefighters.

Once inside the office and before he forgot, he pulled up the order he’d put in for the appliances. Pending, it said. He called up his computer, got the name of the company where he sent it, and emailed them for an update. Before he tackled another thing, he heard the clang of weights coming from the exercise room across the way. Who was here? He got up to investigate the noise.

Oh, hell. Firefighter Lara Swanson was working out. She laid on the bench in fleece shorts and wore a tank top. All her curves were obvious, not that he hadn’t seen them before. They wore something similar to sleep in, and on a night call, they raced to the bay in those clothes.

He watched her. She was precise and careful with her movements. When she finished, she sat up and saw him. “How long have you been there?”

“I just came in.”

“Well, since you’re here, can you spot me?”

“First tell me why you came to the fire house today. Don’t you belong to a gym?” Most firefighters did.

“Can’t afford one.”

“Why? You make a decent salary.”

“I prefer not to discuss my finances with you.”

She was good at brushoffs. One of the reasons the guys didn’t like her much.

“Okay, let’s do the bench press.”

She set up the barbell on the stand with a clang.

“That’s a lot of weight.”

“I got to this level two days ago.”

He crossed to the machine and she laid down on the bench. “How many?”

“Probably five. Maybe less.”

She lifted the weight and slowly lowered it. More sweat beaded on her face. She raised it up again, then lowered it. She made it through three then said, “That’s all I can do. My arms are saturated.”

“That’s plenty.” He didn’t tell her some of the guys couldn’t bench press that many pounds.

She sat up. “Thanks.”

Cocking his head, he asked, “Would you have done that without a spotter?”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course not, Captain.” Nobody liked her sarcasm either.

“You all set?”

“Yeah. What are you doing here?”

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