Page 15 of Saving Jared

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“Uh.”

Willa’s harsh breaths and grunts filled the inside of her self contained breathing apparatus, or SBCA, mask. She strained as she pulled her six-foot pike pole with the bent tines from the low ceiling. Thank goodness they were almost done. Her arms had started drooping like a couple of limp noodles.

She took a few more steps and jabbed the ceiling again. The fire had fully involved and destroyed the front offices of this local insurance company, but surprisingly this back hallway seemed almost untouched. It was doubtful they would find anything, but this part of the job had to be done. Hot spots could be smoldering in the walls or ceilings, and flare-ups could happen in seconds if gone unchecked.

“Here,” Ted Garner, her team leader, shouted from behind her. She turned and bumped into her partner, Cord Posey. With all their gear on, they could barely walk side by side in the narrow space. So, brushing up against each other was unavoidable. Ted stood back from an open closet door while his partner, Cyrus Underwood, sprayed water inside.

“Do you need help,” she hollered loud enough to be heard through her mask and the noise going on around them. Smoke had begun to obscure the two men. But she could make out Ted shaking his head and waving them off. She glanced at Cord, saying loudly, “I guess they’ve got it.” He nodded as she turned back to her task.

At least they were near the end and could soon take a breather—and not too soon for her. The building was isolated from other structures and had only required two units to battle it. But one-alarm fire or not, the heat had been intense, and doing it in full gear had been tantamount to sitting inside a sauna. She punched another hole in the already sagging ceiling and shook her head as most of it rained down on her. Then she looked up.

So far, so good.

“I don’t know about you,” came Cord’s loud but muffled words. “But I could go for a beer later. You game?”

She licked her dry lips and glanced where he’d paused from running his gloved hands along the wall. So far, he hadn’t mentioned finding any suspicious heat signs.

“Sure," she said before focusing back on the ceiling and taking another jab at it. "How about we all meet at The Goalpost after dinner?” She took a few more short steps and sent the pike’s end through the next section of ceiling. A firm hand on her arm kept her from pulling it back down.

“You got a flare?” she quickly asked. She turned to check out the wall but found herself crowded by Cord’s body. Quarters in the hallway were tight, but he had no reason to be this close. She glanced around to find the rest of her team’s attention still on the closet.

“I was talking just the two of us.”

The sounds of their mutual, filtered breathing filled the air for a few seconds. She met his gaze through their shields and tried not to roll her eyes. Because though it was difficult to tell, she had a feeling his pale green eyes held a spark of interest.

She pulled her arm from his grip and sidestepped away from him. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said while shaking her head. “No fraternizing rule and all that.” Plus, she had no desire to encourage Cord. He was nice enough as far as coworkers went and good at this job. He was also high on the looks scale from the top of his blonde head, all the way down his muscled body, to his—if all the hype she’d heard was true—big…feet.

And he knew it.

Most women would probably jump at the chance to go out with him, but not her. It didn’t matter if they worked together or not. She had no desire to go out with someone hellbent on going through all the single women in town and then bragging about it. Call her crazy, but she had no intention of being his latest conquest.

“Come on Miss February." She froze on her upward jab, while his slightly muffled voice took on a husky quality. "You know you want to.”

The calendar.

She slowly lowered the pike and groaned. Darin would have a field day if he found out she’d been hit on because of it. The I told you so’s would be flying all over the place.

“I have to tell you,” he said as he pressed so closely the hardness of his muscled body was evident even through her gear. “I’m kinda fascinated by that tattoo of yours.”

“I bet you are,” she muttered, then said louder as she once again moved away from him and jabbed. “They’re just some hyacinth. So, nothing fascinating at all. Believe me. Anyhow, sorry. But no.” She eyed the door at the end of the hall. Less than ten feet to go.

He brushed up behind her, then she stiffened with the unmistakable caress of his hand over her ass. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”

Oh, hell no.

She moved away from his larger body, then turned and glanced past him. Cyrus and Ted hadn’t yet finished up and were still a good fifteen feet away. But that didn’t matter. She didn’t need them. So, she put the pike pole between herself and Cord and gave him her best Taggert glare. The effect probably wasn’t the same through her shield, but from his narrowing eyes he was getting the message.

“I’m not missing anything. But it seems like you might be missing some things. One, when I say no. I mean no. Two, you don’t put your hands on me unless I say you can. And three, shouldn’t you be checking the wall? You know, doing your job?”

Their breathing filled the air again, but more rapid than before. They stared at each other until shouts of "All clear" had her turning away from him. But not far enough away she didn’t miss his, “Bitch.”

Some men and their fragile egos.

“You two almost done?” Cyrus asked, coming up behind her.

“Just about,” she answered with one last, hard thrust at the ceiling. “Looks good here.”

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