Arden FD, #2 Jessica dreams of putting out fires but can she cope with fanning the flames of Kevin's smoldering heart? When she turns thirty, Jessica realizes time is running out if she wants to pursue her dream of being a firefighter and paramedic. Kevin offers her the opportunity to make her dream a reality, but both are unprepared for the flames of desire their meeting ignites. But what's with Kevin? He flirts with her, then pushes her away. Not that she needs the complication of starting a new job with a reputation anyway. Jessica decides she'll just concentrate on her training instead of the dreamy guy who can't make up his mind. Friends complicate the matter even further, wreaking havoc on Jessica's plans to stay focused solely on her goal. As Jessica's tests approach, she and Kevin must come to terms with their burgeoning love for each other. Will circumstances snuff their chances for happiness? 69,732 Words
Release date:
January 4, 2010
Publisher:
Lyrical Press
Print pages:
188
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Jessica Decker had just started alphabetizing Weddings for the second time this month when she sensed a crowd gathering outside of the Reference section. It sounded like they’d rounded up the entire staff. Pulling out her ponytail, she tidied up her shoulder-length chestnut hair, knowing one of them would have a camera and not wanting to look like a slob in yet another picture in the bookstore photo album. Who’d leaked today was her birthday? Short list. She’d hoped to forget it herself, but she’d had a lot of fun at others’ expense on their birthdays so she had to be civil about this, no matter how unpleasant and painful it promised to be.
About the time she’d worked her way to the D’s, they started.
“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday, dear Jessica, happy birthday to you!” The entire staff clustered around the end of the shelf, all grinning and laughing. Jessica noted Bess and Diana were absent. Probably stuck at the register and information. Tony started the how old are you now verse but Mindi started clapping to drown him out. As the probable source of the leak, she’d better keep control of it. Mindi might throw her under a bus for cake, but she’d better be prepared to call the paramedics.
“Happy birthday, Jessica.” Mindi leaped forward and hugged her as Karen snapped a picture for the album. “We got you a cake. It’s in the break room.”
Jessica forced a smile. Yup, cake. Chocolate cake with huge sugary roses. “Thanks. You can start without me.”
Mindi mocked a frown. “But it’s chocolate.”
Jessica sighed. Definitely Mindi. “Let me finish this, and I’ll come back. If I leave Weddings half alphabetized, I’ll have to start all over when I come back.”
Mindi bobbed her blond head. “Well, okay. I’ll save you the piece with the big rose.”
Jessica watched the rest of the staff filter away. Mindi would end up with the rose anyway. She sat down on her stool and pulled out the book about wedding flowers. If she stayed out here long enough, the first round of revelers would eat their cake and get back to work before she had to deal with questions about her age. The wedding flowers book should burn a good chunk of time. Normally, she liked looking at the beautiful pictures of other people’s weddings and imagining her own. Today, she shoved the book back on the shelf where it belonged before she’d even gotten past the second chapter. A thirty-year-old virgin with no romantic prospects on the horizon, trapped in her job. Sighing, she worked her way through Weddings knowing she’d be doing this again in about two weeks.
She’d never meant to still be working at the bookstore six years after she took the job, she’d just never left. When she took the job, she’d innocently hoped she’d meet some nice, good-looking, intelligent guy who would inspire her to get herself together and do something constructive with her life.
So far Mr. Right had not appeared to get her life together for her. It wasn’t much of a plan anyway.
At the end of Weddings, she turned the corner and started work on the Careers section. Maybe she needed to move. California would be nice. She took down the San Francisco job almanac and started leafing through it. There had to be lots of things she could do with a degree in biology. Somebody had just been telling her California had a huge teacher shortage. What if she ran away and became a teacher. How hard could it be to be a teacher? Jessica shuddered remembering the torture she’d put her own teachers through in school. Maybe that wasn’t a good idea.
She put the almanac away and scooted her stool over a shelf so she could work on the test study guides. Looking at those books, she decided going back to school wouldn’t be bad either. The problem wasn’t lack of options, it was too many options.
“Excuse me. Do you work here?” A deep masculine voice spoke behind her.
Jessica turned around, smiling. “Can I help you?” Ah yes, him. He hung around the store all the time. Dark hair threaded with gray. Deep, dark brown eyes that matched his voice. Powerfully built without being cumbersome. Five years ago, he would have been interesting, even attractive enough to make her tongue-tied. Of course, five years ago, he still would have been much older than her. Too bad. He seemed nice and wasn’t bad to look at, but she guessed him to be about forty-five. Too old.
“Do you have any books on Gaelic?”
“Gaelic.” She turned to the foreign language shelf behind her. “You thinking about learning the language?”
“I’m toying with the idea of going to Ireland.”
“You know you don’t need to speak Gaelic to get around in Ireland. They speak really good English. It’s amazing. You’d think it was their native tongue.” She glanced at him, but he didn’t laugh or even smile to make her feel better about such a bad joke. Did that mean he was stupid, or that he had good taste? “You might be better off with a travel guide if you really want a book.”
“No, I like the music too, and some of the old songs are in Gaelic.” He shrugged. “Besides, I’m not going for a long time.”
“Let’s see.” Jessica ran her fingers along the edge of the oak bookshelf. “The languages are in alphabetical order, so Gaelic should be…” She slid the book out and handed it to him. “Here it is. And Irish is right over here, on this second shelf from the bottom. It looks like there’s only four books there.”
“What’s the difference between Gaelic and Irish?” He opened the Gaelic book and scanned the table of contents.
“Beats me. I always wanted to shelve them together, but I used to work with a guy who terrorized me into keeping them apart. He swore they were different languages. I can’t tell them apart. Was there anything else you needed?”
“Do you know if any of these is better than the others?” He looked over the dozen or so books on the shelf with the glazed expression of the overwhelmed. It made him look sort of helpless and cute.
Jessica sneered to herself. Her birthday was going to her head if she was feeling sorry for the customers. Most days she wanted to hold them off with a whip and a chair. She smoothed her hair off her face. “It depends on you. I think each one is written to a different learning style. You’ll just have to look through them and see which one suits you best.”
He put the first book back and took down another one. “Okay. Thank you.”
Shoving the stool over to another case, she started shelving the SAT books. He’d picked a good time to come over. A few minutes earlier and she’d have had to retreat to the warehouse to wait for him to go away. Now she could keep working without crowding him out of the section.
“So when are you planning on going over?” she asked. At least he didn’t know it was her birthday and she was trapped and single. She wouldn’t have to bear his ribbing or his pity.
“I don’t know yet,” he said. “Sometime before this day next year.”
Jessica laughed. “Sudden decision?”
“I guess so. A friend of mine just proposed to his girlfriend, and I realized I was spinning my wheels.”
Jessica decided she could listen to his voice all day. It sounded like velvet, and not the modern synthetic stuff, either. Antique velvet. Soft and smooth and warm. Probably single, too. Not that it mattered, as old as he was. “I can understand that. Are you planning on going in high season or low season?”
“What’s that?”
“High season runs from about April to September or October, I forget. Everything’s open and the weather’s nicer, but the prices are twenty or thirty percent higher.” Jessica finished test study guides and started on vocational study guides. “Low season you get better prices and fewer crowds, but you risk bad weather. Wet, cold, really unpleasant. After a while you start to feel like a mushroom.”
“You went to Ireland?”
“About three years ago. It was incredible.” She sighed, remembering the trip, taken at one of those points in life when everything seemed possible. Slouching down on the stool, she reached for the lower shelves. “I’d love to go back.”
“Why don’t you?”
She shrugged, not turning around to look at him. “Lack of money, lack of get-up-and-go, don’t really want to go alone again. You know?”
“You went alone?” He sounded shocked. Most people were.
“Yes.”
“But you went with a tour group.”
“No.” She tucked her hair behind her ear again and put the LSAT books back into alphabetical order.
“How?”
Jessica turned around to look at him. With his expression more animated, he seemed younger. Maybe thirty-five. She smiled. In younger days, he must have been a lady killer. Ten years ago she would have been a week getting her tongue untied if she’d tried to talk to him. “I bought a ticket, got a train pass, and stayed at hostels every night.” Every time someone reacted this way it reminded her of what an accomplishment it seemed to most people.
“Wow. Weren’t you worried? A woman traveling alone.”
Jessica stood up. “I’m not exactly a little girl.” Standing beside him, she decided he must be about six foot, which made him two or three inches taller than her. She was nobody’s idea of a delicate female.
“I guess not.”
She sat down again. “I’m the store bouncer,” she added. Men always got that expression on their faces when they took a good look at her. That She could beat me up! look. Not that she thought she could beat this guy up. He was in good shape, on closer inspection. His shoulders were nice and broad. Not like an over-muscled gym diva, but he could certainly pin her in a wrestling match.
A sudden, unexpected heat raced up her throat at that thought. She focused on the CPA test guides, hoping it would go away before he noticed.
“Jessica?”
She looked up. The general manager, a thin nervous man, fidgeted in the aisle beside her.
He crouched. “I’m sorry about this.”
“What is it, Eric?”
“It’s Julie.”
Jessica rolled her eyes. At least this topic distracted her from the thoughts of wrestling that had been flashing through her mind. “Now what?”
“It’s just the usual. Could you talk to her?”
“I’ve talked to her. She isn’t doing anything wrong,” Jessica grumbled.
“I know, but if you could just tell her to back off. You know how Darla is.” Eric twisted his hands together between his knees.
“Yeah, and I know how Julie is too.” Jessica shook her head. “I’ll talk to her.”
“Thank you.” Eric sighed, relieved at having handed off that confrontation.
Jessica watched him walk away. She had to get out of this job before the death match between Darla and Julie burned a hole in her stomach.
“Who’s Julie?”
Jessica jumped. She hadn’t forgotten about the customer with the deep dark chocolate voice, but the sound of it right behind her brushed across her cheek like a touch. “Julie? She’s the magazine clerk who won’t let sleeping dogs lie if she doesn’t like them.”
He nodded. “I think I know the type.”
“I like her. It’s just not fun to ride herd on her sometimes.”
“So why do you get to ride herd anyway?”
“I have the great fortune to be her manager. They warned me she was unmanageable when I got the job.” Jessica pulled out her other favorite book to look at while shelving this section. The professional training section had three different firefighter exam books and two emergency medical service exam books. That’s what she really wanted to do. She’d watched every hospital-based show on television since she was old enough to sit still for an hour. In college, she’d started out pre-med and become disenchanted. Besides, she didn’t want to be a doctor or a nurse or even a tech. She wanted sirens.
“You planning on taking the test?”
Jessica didn’t jump this time, even though he’d leaned over her shoulder, presumably to get a better look at the book. “Maybe. I’ve always wanted to be a paramedic, and to be a paramedic, I have to be a firefighter first.”
“Move to Cambridge and you won’t have to join fire service.”
Jessica snorted. Julie had been clipping all the articles about the Cambridge EMS fight from the papers for her. One side said it was better service to have two separate departments giving the same service, plus it was cheaper because the EMS service was contracted. The other side said the fire department ended up responding to many of the calls anyway, negating the savings, so it would be better to just send the department in the first place. So far, they’d managed to decide to wait and study the problem more. “They’re going to have to bring it into fire service eventually. The fire department is faster and better. If I get in there, I’ll have to join up in a year.”
“The fire department is more expensive.”
Jessica closed the book on her lap. “People don’t tend to care about that when they’re in the middle of a cardiac arrest.”
“They care at the polls when they’re voting new taxes.” He smiled as if he was enjoying the debate.
“They also remember which politicians wanted to cut costs on public safety.”
“So you think it’s inevitable?”
Jessica nodded. “Sure of it. It costs more on the surface, but the EMS system doesn’t work now. The fire department gets called out in one in four cases. Besides, you can’t be a paramedic with a private ambulance company anyway. The best you can do is Advanced Life Saving. Sometimes ALS isn’t enough.”
He knelt on the floor next to her. “So why haven’t you taken the test?”
“I don’t know.” Jessica opened the book and started leafing through it. “It all looks so complicated. Three sets of exams, tons of math, tools. I guess I need to find a firefighter to guide me.”
“You went overseas by yourself, and you think the fire exam is complicated?”
“Going to Ireland was no big deal. It’s easier than it looks. I didn’t have to learn another language, I just had to remember to look at the bottom of the street signs for the English name. This is in a different language.”
“How?”
Jessica looked down at the book in her hands. She’d stopped at the section of tools. “I don’t know the difference between a bench grinder and an offset box wrench.”
“You’ve got plenty of time. Arden’s age cut off is thirty-one. You can learn that stuff on a few trips through Sears. The hardest part is the physical training.”
“Thirty-one?” she blurted out, vaguely aware he’d been saying something. Jessica’s throat constricted. Thirty-one? She had one year left. If she couldn’t get it together in the past six years, what made her think she could manage in one?
He reared back. “Arden hires between twenty-one and thirty-one. You’ve got a couple of years at least.”
“I turned thirty today,” she wailed, remembering the singing and the cake and her absolute dread when she woke up this morning because it was her birthday. That hole in the pit of her stomach started to gnaw itself a little larger. “I’ve only got a year left.”
He seemed stunned for a moment, but she couldn’t tell if it was her age or her outburst, and she was too busy trying not to cry to worry about it. Suddenly the minor annoyance of re-alphabetizing Weddings every other week and dealing with Julie and Darla’s ongoing conflict seemed endless. She’d be trapped here forever. She would die a virgin with a laundry list of unfulfilled dreams because she couldn’t just jump in with both feet.
He held out his hand. “Kevin Marshall.”
Jessica shook his hand, wondering what he was getting at. Then she realized she’d confessed something only a few people knew about to a total stranger because he had a reassuring voice. “Jessica Decker.”
“I’ll help you.”
“Help me what?” Jessica drew back, stopping just before she fell off the stool. She wanted to run into the warehouse and hide in the magazine back stock until she pulled herself together. This was awful. Only a year before she became too old.
“Help you pass the test.”
She tapped the book in her lap with her finger. “This test?” He must be crazy. Naturally, the day she could least handle the crazy guy she got him. “How are you planning to do that?”
“I’m a firefighter. I took it and passed it.”
“You’re a firefighter?”
“That’s how I know the cutoff age.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”
The weight of his hand distracted her by reminding her of wrestling matches, but she needed to be sure he was saying what she thought he was saying before she turned skittish and silly. “You’re really willing to mentor me?”
“Sure. I’m not busy right now. They just did exams about a week ago, so you’ve got ten or eleven weeks to study and get in shape before the next round. From the look of you, it won’t take that long.” He looked her over again.
Jessica started at him with her mouth open. Ten or eleven weeks. With his help, she could have a new job, her dream job, by the time the weather turned. “You really want to do this? Even though I’m a woman?”
“Doesn’t matter to me. We all look about the same in turnouts.”
Jessica threw her arms around his neck, nearly knocking him to the floor. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you.”
“No problem.” He reached up and took her arms from around his neck. “Happy birthday.”
“It is now.” She bit back a sob. “You’re going to need my phone number.”
“Yes, and I’ll give you mine,” he said, holding her wrists with just his fingers.
She backed away, pulling her hands away from him, feeling the bright blush on her cheeks. What had she been thinking, hugging him? Still, the overwhelming glee at his offer bubbled around in her veins, and she wouldn’t have been able to control herself if she’d tried. If she’d thought she could get away with it, she’d hug him again. Right about now, she’d have hugged Darla if she’d been handy, although hugging Kevin Marshall was a more exciting prospect. “There’s scrap paper over here.” She led him to the History desk and found paper and a pen.
“I’ll find out when the next exams start, and we’ll plan a schedule for you,” he told her. “You might want to pick up one of those exam books for the questions. And you’ll want to get to your doctor for a physical before we start training.”
Jessica nodded as she wrote down her full name, phone number and address. “I can call the doctor’s office today and set up an appointment. He can usually get me in within a day or so.” She handed Kevin the pen and another piece of paper.
“Call me when you get your appointment so we can meet right away. We’re on a pretty tight schedule.”
“What if I’m not ready by then?” Jessica finger-combed her hair. Her hands trembled, tangling in the ends.
“You’ll be ready.” He handed back the pen and paper and looked at her face. “Don’t worry, if something goes wrong, they’ll have the exams again in December. So I’ll hear from you soon?”
“Today or tomorrow.”
“Okay. We’ll get you into the department, and then we’ll work on paramedic certification.” He held out his hand again.
She shook it. “I don’t know how to thank you.”
“Finish training and pass the test.” He folded the paper and shoved it in his pocket. “See ya soon.”
“Yes. Very soon.” He had a purposeful, rolling gait and a nice tight rear, which, if he turned around and caught her looking at, would be embarrassing. Blinkin. . .
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