cookies onto a big glass platter and
drove to the fire station.
The overhead doors were open to the early
spring sunshine, and the two big fire trucks stood ready with doors
open and turnout gear in place as always.
“I brought treats,” she called as she went
in, blinking a bit as she walked from sunshine into shadow.
A couple of firemen were polishing the brass
rails on the oldest of the fire engines, which was now more of a
relic than a useful piece of equipment. Fred – the more experienced
of the two – nudged the other fireman and said, “Go get the
captain, Hank.”
Was there something a little guilty about
Fred’s tone? Surely not. Beth’s imagination had gone into
overdrive, that was all.
“I’ll get him,” Beth said brightly. “Is he in
the kitchen?”
“No – he’s back in the gym,” Hank
admitted.
She set the plate of cookies down on the step
of the fire engine and walked across the garage to a small storage
area. Last fall, the guys had spent their own time and money
cleaning the room out, painting the walls, and fitting it up as a
workout space. But now that the weather was nicer, why was Josh
spending time in a cramped, makeshift, airless gym when he could be
outdoors?
He can’t exactly run five miles when he’s
on duty, Beth reminded herself. A firefighter has to be
right beside the truck when an alarm comes in, or he’s not much
use.
Josh was in the gym, all right, but he wasn’t
alone. He was standing at the head of a padded bench, spotting for
the weightlifter on the bench. The moment Beth saw who was lying
there, gripping the heavy iron bar, her internal sirens went off –
louder than any fire alarm she’d ever heard.
“Hey,” Josh said. “What brings you down here
in the middle of the day?”
He didn’t sound guilty, she noted. He also
didn’t sound terribly interested in Beth as he helped the woman on
the bench guide the bar back into the rests.
“Chocolate-chip cookies,” Beth said. She
couldn’t take her eyes off the woman as she sprang up from the
bench as gracefully as if she was dismounting from a balance
beam.
On her right shoulder blade, clearly visible
beside the strap of the skimpiest black tank top Beth had ever
seen, was a tattoo. Before Beth could spot what it was, the woman
slung a towel over her shoulder and turned around.
She was tall – at least six inches taller
than Beth. She had white-blonde hair, cut very short in an upswept,
angular style that suited her elfin face and high cheekbones. She
had huge blue-violet eyes and a build that could have graced the
red carpet at the Oscars. There was certainly no doubt about her
being female, and she obviously didn’t need padding in the
flesh-colored sports bra which peeked though the armhole of the
tank top.
Josh said, “Beth, this is Farrah, our newest
team member. Farrah, this is Beth.”
Not This is my wife. Just – Beth , she noted woodenly.
Farrah advanced, holding out her hand. “So
nice to meet you.” Then she seemed to think better of it and wiped
her palm vigorously on the towel. “Sorry. I’m pretty hot and
sweaty.”
Far more pretty than hot and
sweaty , Beth thought. “How do you like the fire department so
far?”
“Oh, it’s great. The guys have been
wonderful. Very welcoming.”
“Did you say you brought cookies?” Josh
asked. “I hope you didn’t leave them with Hank, or they’ll all be
gone.” He led the way out of the workout room.
Beth didn’t object; the room had seemed to be
too small for the three of them.
“Hey, guys, leave some of those for the rest
of us,” Josh called across the garage to Hank and Fred.
“We were just sampling while they were still
warm,” Hank said. “Hey, captain, I’ve got an idea. We need to raise
funds for some more equipment for the gym. Maybe we could have a
bake sale.”
“Just don’t look at me,” Farrah said
pleasantly. “I don’t bake. I’ll pull my share of kitchen duty the
same way all you guys do, but be
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