Нора Робертс - Chasing Fire

“Here, too.” She told him about the ready room, the police, about Dolly.

“For God’s sake, Ro, what’s wrong with that girl? Do you want more help? I can reschedule some things, or at least send over a couple men.”

“I think we’ve got it, but I’ll ask L.B.”

“Quinniock, you said. I know him a little. I met him when I did one of those charity grip and grins last year. He came out with his kids. We gave them a tour.”

“That’s where I saw him. He’s been through here, too. So... how was your meeting last night?”

“It was good. I’m going to work on this project for some of the high-school kids. And Ella—the client—she’s signing up for AFF training.”

“All that? That was some drink.”

“Ha. Well. Ah, you’ll probably meet her. She wants to connect up with the base, too. For this project. I’ve got a group coming in, but you tell L.B. to let me know if he wants extra hands. I can put in some time.”

“I will, but I think we’re good. You could come over after you close up. You can always put in some time with me.”

“I’ve got a dinner meeting with the accountant on the slate tonight. How about we plan on it tomorrow? I’ll come by after work.”

“Works for me. See you tomorrow.”

She clicked off, then started over to join the horde spilling out of manufacturing in a beeline for the tables.

Her mood improved. Progress, a full stomach, an upcoming date with her best guy. After which, she promised herself, she’d turn in early and bank some sleep.

It lifted her a little more to hear Matt laugh at something Libby said, to watch Cards dazzle one of the rookies with some sleight of hand, to listen to Trigger and Janis bitterly debate baseball.

As irritating as it was, Gull had been right. The Dolly crap? Just a bump.

She nudged him as they started back to their respective work areas. “Four o’clock, on the track.”

“I’ll be there.”

Asking for trouble, she thought, and admitted she liked it. So maybe she’d bend her rule just a little—or a whole lot—for him. Maybe think about it awhile, and stretch out the heat, that sizzle of tension. Or just jump in, go full blast, burn it up, burn it out.

They were both grown-ups. They both knew the score. When the fire between them lay down, they could just step away again. No scars, no worries.

If she opted for the jump, that’s just how she’d approach it. Two healthy, single adults who liked each other enjoying some good, tension-snapping sex.

“That’s a big, smug smile you’re wearing,” Janis said as she joined Rowan at the table.

“I’m deciding if I’m going to have sex with Gull sooner or later.”

“That would put a big, smug smile on my face. He’s just sooo purty—” She gave a shoulder wiggle that sent her ponytail, circled with bluebirds, dancing. “In a manly way. But what happened to the rule?”

“I’m thinking I’ll temporarily rescind it. But do I wait, keep getting off, so to speak, on the sexual tension, innuendo, byplay and pursuit? Or do I dive headlong into the hot, steamy, sexy goodness?”

“Both are excellent uses of time. However, I’ve found, occasionally, that building anticipation can also overbuild expectation. Then nobody can fully meet the overbuild.”

“That’s a problem, and another factor to consider. The thing is, I don’t think I’d be considering it, at least not yet, if this hadn’t happened. The Dolly Crapathon. It’s thrown me off, Janis.”

“If you let that tiny-brained, coldhearted, self-pitying skank throw you off, you’re letting her win. If you let her win, you’re going to piss me off. If you piss me off, I’m going to beat the snot out of you.”

Rowan went pfftt . “You know you can’t take me.”

“That has not yet been put to the test. I got my fourth-degree black belt this winter. When I make martial arts noises, thousands flee in terror. Don’t test me.”

“Can you hear that? It’s my knees knocking.”

“They’re wise to fear me. Go, have sex for fun and orgasms, and forget about the Dolly Crapathon.”

“You are wise as well as short.”

“I can also break bricks with my bare hands.” And examined her manicure.

“That’s a handy skill if you ever find yourself walled up in the basement of an abandoned house by a psychopath.”

“I keep it in my pocket for just that eventuality.” She glanced over as Trigger walked between tables on his hands. “A sure sign we’re going stir-crazy. Plenty to do, but we’re doing it grounded.”

“The way we’re going, especially with Super-Sewer Dobie, we’re going to be in better shape on gear and equipment than before The Nightmare on Dolly Street .”

“I hope the cops put the fear of God into her.” Janis lowered her voice. “Matt gave her five thousand.”

“What?”

“For the baby. I heard her crying to Matt after L.B. gave her the boot. How was she going to pay off the hospital bills now, and the pediatrician? He said he could spare five thousand to help her clear up the bills, tide her over until she got work. I guess I get it. His brother’s kid and all. But she’s going to keep tapping him, you know she is.”

“Why work when you can sob-story your dead lover’s brother into passing you cash? If he wants to help out with the baby, he should give money to Dolly’s mother, or pay some of those bills directly.”

“Are you going to tell him that?”

“I just might.” Rowan gathered up the chute to take to repair. “I damn well might.”

She considered offering unsolicited advice and opinion—which everybody hated—or just staying out of it. By the time she took a break for her run, she’d all but exhausted ideas for a third choice. Maybe the PT would help her think of one.

She changed into her running gear, grabbed a bottle of water. Gull joined her as she walked out of the barracks.

“Right on time,” he commented.

“If I’d had to spend another hour indoors, I’d’ve hurt someone. What’ve you got in you today?”

“We’ll have to find out. I’ll tell you this, the ready room looks like Martha Stewart stocked and organized it. And I’m well past done with anything approaching domestic work, but I am looking to get some more rigger training.”

“So you’ve been studying there, too?”

“Knowing how something works isn’t the same as making it work. You’re a certified Master Rigger. You could tutor me.”

“Maybe.” She already knew him for a quick study. “Are you looking to work toward your Senior Rigger certification, or to spend more time with me?”

“I’d call it multitasking.”

They stopped on the side of the track where Rowan shed her warm-up jacket, laid her water bottle on it. “Distance or time?”

“How about a race?”

“Easy for you to say, Fast Feet.”

“I’ll give you a head start. Quarter mile of three.”

“A quarter mile?” She did a little toe-heel to loosen her ankles. “You think you can beat me with that much of a spread?”

“If I don’t, I’ll have plenty of time to enjoy the view.”

“Okay, sport, if you want my ass in your sights, you’ve got it.”

She took the inside lane, cued her stopwatch, then took off.

Damn nice view, Gull thought as he strolled onto the track, plugged in his earbuds. He took a moment to loosen up, shaking out his arms, lifting his knees. When she hit the quarter mile, he ran.

And God, it felt good to move, to breathe, to have music banging in his head. Warm, dry air streamed over him, the sun splashed on the track, and he had Rowan’s curvy body racing ahead of him.

It didn’t get much better.

He built up his pace gradually so by the first mile had cut her lead in half. She’d changed into shorts that clung to her thighs, and a tank that molded her torso. As he closed more distance he let himself enjoy the sexy cut of her calf muscles, the way the sun played on those strong shoulders.