Blue Crush (13 page)

“What can I do to help you with your job search?” I ask her.

“For some reason, I’m not having luck finding a job at the other casinos. I’ve looked into old work contacts, but nothing pays enough. You think you could talk to Nessa? See if she knows anyone looking for a superstar employee?”

“Arrogant much?”

“What?” Her look is all innocence. “You know it’s true.”

I do. I kick Cali’s ass at hand-eye coordination, but she could pummel me in a contest of mental skill.

“I’ll give her a call.”

“So what do you think? You know anyone looking for a summa cum laude graduate?” I ask Nessa over the phone. I would have added
with acceptance into Harvard law,
but part of Cali’s angst this summer stems from her not wanting to go to law school in the fall. It’s what her mom and others expect. Cali wants to find a job so she can afford to take art classes for the sketching she loves, and only recently began taking seriously. Jaeger, with his art background, helped convince her of her talent. Apparently,
my
opinion all these years wasn’t good enough. In all honesty, I’m happy she finally realizes how good she is.

A muffled sound like a yawn comes through the receiver. “Sorry. Tired.” Nessa just woke from an afternoon nap—a girl after my own heart. Not a morning sleeper but definitely a sleeper. “You could check with Sallee Construction. Lewis mentioned his dad is looking for someone to support their architect. Not sure if Cali has the skills they’re looking for, but it’s worth a shot. Lewis’s dad is
sooo
nice. If John doesn’t have something for her, he’ll ask around, and he knows everyone.”

“I met John. His company is building the mudder obstacles. Zach referred me.”

“Perfect, so tell Cali to get in touch with him and have her mention we sent her.”

I could talk to Lewis, but his father is just as good and I’d rather not ask Lewis for another favor. He added me to his mudder team. It’s to his advantage to help me train if I’m on his team, but I’m getting the better bargain. Without his help, I’d be struggling.

The second Nessa and I hang up, my phone vibrates. I assume it’s a text from her with another lead, but the message is from Lewis.

Lewis: Have plans tonight? The team is getting together for pizza and beer. You should come. It’ll be teambuilding.

Teambuilding, not a date.

Gen: Sure. Where/what time?

A couple of hours later, I scan Avalanche Pizza and even though I’m wearing my normal crisp button-down tucked into skinny jeans, there’s a chance I put more effort than usual into my appearance. I straightened my hair and wore makeup—I also paired my conservative outfit with pointy-toed stilettos instead of flats. The heels are only two inches high, but they add a little something extra.

A youngish crowd elevates the noise in the restaurant to a low roar, and I sense eyes on me as I walk across the room. Lewis is with a bunch of guys, his back to me. Zach signals me over. Other than Zach, I haven’t met the others on my team, and apparently, I’m the only female.

I walk up and Lewis turns and scans me from head to toe, sending a flutter through my stomach. He returns his attention to the guys and swigs his pint. No smile, nothing.

My chest deflates.

Dismissed, just like that.

I’ve gotten to know Lewis better through training. He’s fair, pushes me hard, and when he thinks I’m not paying attention, he watches me. I hate to admit it, but this dismissal, after I put effort into my looks, hurts.

Zach hands me a beer and makes room for me on the bench. He introduces me to the others. “Don’t let her sweet look fool you. Gen, here, is a shark.” I sink beside him as all eyes fall on me. “She was dunking coins left and right the night I met her, playing Quarters and kicking our asses.”

One guy’s brow quirks. He reaches over to an abandoned table and grabs a shallow, empty glass. He sets it in front of us and digs in his pocket, dumping three quarters, two dimes, and a stringy ball of lint on the table.

Lewis shakes his head. “We’re training tomorrow. Take it easy. The race is only three weeks away.”

Someone blows off the lint and more pockets empty until a dozen quarters pile in front of me. We really only needed a couple.

“Let’s test her skills,” the guy with the glass says. “Any girl who can sink a quarter the first time deserves our respect, even if we have to drag her ass around the course in three weeks.”

So they think I’ll weigh them down? I can’t say I disagree, but I will kick their asses at Quarters.

I pick up the coin, glance at the glass and look straight at the heckler. I strike the edge of my palm on the table and let the quarter fly, holding his gaze.

It sinks with a clean ping.

“Whoaaa!” my team shouts above the drone, slapping each other’s backs.

I sweep through twenty-two ringers before my luck runs out. Lewis acted bored the entire time, but the rest of my team gulped beer with every shot I made—ignoring Lewis’s grandfatherly rule about not drinking. A few of the guys ask me about sports in high school and college. One of them asks me if I have a boyfriend.

My eyes dart to Lewis—why, I have no idea. But he’s waiting for my answer along with the rest of them.

“No.” I shake my head and smile.

“Are you looking for one?” the guy next to me asks with a saucy grin.

“Back off.” Zach thumps the guy’s shoulder. “Gen’s on our team, which means she’s off-limits. Think of her as your little sister.”

“After the race?” the guy quips.

Lewis rises and walks over. “Move it, Jake.” He squeezes in between me and Jake, and my body tenses.

The rest of the team switches to other topics, but I get the sense they’re observing. Not in an overtly obvious way, just like the conversations have gone down a notch in volume and each guy takes turns glancing.

Is it hot in here? I unbutton my white shirt and wrap it around my waist.

The table goes silent.

I wore a silky tank underneath my shirt that I didn’t think was sexy, but maybe it is. I have actual cleavage in this top. Cali and my mom would be thrilled.

Lewis’s gaze strays to my bare arms, then shifts quickly to the beer he’s cupping.

Time for a subject change. “No Mira?”

His eyes narrow. “She’s not my girlfriend, Gen.” He rubs a condensation bead on the side of his glass. “She’s a close friend, but I don’t record her every move.”

“You fight like you’re in a relationship,” I say, to flush out the definition of the two of them.

A part of me wants him to be in a relationship. If he has a girlfriend, I can convince myself to stay away from him. The way I respond to Lewis scares me. It’s too intense.

He angles toward me, shutting out the others, though I’m pretty sure they’re listening as they can’t seem to talk and listen at the same time, so there’s not much conversation going on. “No relationship—not in the way you think. She’s like a sister to me.”

I look at him incredulously. “Does she know you think of her this way?”

“Yes.”

“How does she handle that knowledge?” I’m acting like I believe I’m an actual psychologist, but seriously, I must figure this out.

He lifts his shoulder in a lazy shrug, as if it doesn’t matter.

It matters, dammit. What they have together is so confusing, and I need to know what it means. “How did she deal with your past girlfriends?”

He doesn’t answer. His gaze wanders nervously away.

A tingly feeling sweeps my spine like soft fingers. “Lewis?” I’m almost afraid to ask. “When was the last time you
had
a girlfriend?” Maybe his last relationship ended badly and Mira is overprotective?

“A few years ago.”

I sip my beer to steady the shudder threatening to unhinge me. Not what I wanted to hear. “Sooo … Mira was okay with that one, but now she can’t handle you talking to other women?” I’m not going to beat around the bush. It’s obvious Mira has issues with Lewis paying attention to other women, specifically me.

Another smile, this one a bit mischievous. “She didn’t know about that relationship. I was away in college.”

My eyes bulge. It’s been going on since college? “Why are you keeping your girlfriends hidden?”

He shifts in his seat. “Girlfriend. There was one.”

“One?”
I squeak. Lewis is polished mountain man candy. No way he’s only had one girlfriend. He’s gotta be a player, only that image doesn’t fit either. He hasn’t checked out a single girl tonight, unlike his counterparts. “Sisters don’t cockblock,” I point out. His mouth curves up. Did I say that out loud? “I mean … You know what mean.” I glance nervously at the guys.

Half are openly staring.

This conversation is one of the most awkward I’ve ever experienced, so of course it’s with Lewis. “Why is she like that?” I ask in a low voice.

He checks his watch. “We should get going. It’s late.”

He’s dismissing me? Again?

I asked probing questions, but it’s not like he wasn’t answering. I guess I should be happy he answered as many as he did.

Lewis downs the rest of his beer and shoves the glass to the center of the table. He stands and raises his hand. Jake, next to him, grips it. “I’m gonna take off. I’ll catch you guys later.” He peers at me. “Next week, team training. Be ready tomorrow—I’ll pick you up at eight.”

“Eight? Why so early?”

He grins as he turns toward the door. “Special obstacle work,” he calls.

Crap, he’s going to torture me. More than he already has.

There is no instinct like that of the heart.

Chances are good I washed my hair in the shower this morning. Considering I’m not fully awake I can’t say for sure. It’s wet, that’s all I know. There’s always the possibility I rinsed and forgot to shampoo but it smells floral, so I think I’m good.

My arms shake, muscles unused to functioning at what I consider an ungodly hour as I pull damp strands into a ponytail. I left the pizza joint after Lewis threatened me with his butt-crack-of-dawn training, but it didn’t matter. I couldn’t fall asleep, too used to staying up late for work. I ended up watching bad reality television with Cali for a couple of hours.

Lewis pulls into the driveway in his red Jeep. The only reason I don’t snap at him for scheduling our training this early is that he brought doughnuts—and a slice of wheat bread with peanut butter and bananas.

I snarl at the bread. “What’s that for?”

He pulls out of the driveway and heads for the main road. “You. Eat it and you can have a doughnut.”

I bite the corner of my lip, attempting to remain calm.

You know what? I’m not even going to argue with him about the bread bullshit, for two reasons. One, it’s not worth the mental energy and I’m half-awake as it is. Two, I’m hungry and can eat the cardboard bread, plus three or four of the doughnuts, without a problem. I eat the bland wheat-banana thing in a few bites, gulp my coffee, and go in for a glazed swirl.

He glances over. “Is that decaf? Because you shouldn’t—” His voice dies at the look I level him.

Oh, yeah, don’t push it, buddy. Grumpy morning person here. Not. In. The. Mood. I take a massive gulp and cock my head to the side.
Bring it.

A smile plays at the corner of his mouth, his focus returning to the road.

I wolf a couple more doughnuts down and we pass Camp Richardson, which is pretty far out. We’ll be in Emerald Bay soon. “Where are we going?”

“Fallen Leaf Lake. The cascades.”

Sightseeing? “I thought the purpose of this torture—I mean,
lovely morning gathering
—was for training?”

He pulls down a narrow road south of the Camp Richardson store. “The cascades are the obstacle.”

Why does that sentence sound alarms inside my head? I gingerly return doughnut number five to its box. Maybe I should ease up on the sugar. Plenty of time after the workout.

Several minutes later, I see Fallen Leaf Lake through the trees, glistening in the morning light. It’s dramatically smaller than Lake Tahoe, but just as beautiful—and probably equally freezing. I really hope this outing doesn’t involve swimming. I’d like to keep my ass where it’s located and not freeze it off.

We pass the marina and Lewis pulls up a windy hill beside a creek that must supply water to the lake. He eases onto the shoulder and sets the brake. As he reaches behind my seat, his hard chest brushes my arm and a
frisson
of attraction spreads through me. The scent of pine and Lewis makes my mind go blank. He pulls out a backpack. “Ready?”

“Uh, yeah.”
No.
So not ready.

The stones of the cascades are gray and brown, like earthen paper crumpled and laid at an angle with shallow streams running through. I glance down at the steep cliff. I have a terrible feeling I’ll be getting to know these rocks intimately.

“Wait here.” Lewis descends to the bottom without explaining what the hell we’re doing, and up the opposite face, his backpack secured to his back.

It doesn’t look like a difficult climb with his long legs eating up the distance across the rocks, but that doesn’t reassure me. He’s at home in this place. I’m used to exercising on sidewalks and whatever urban setting I call home. This is the wild, untamed part of life I try to avoid.

Lewis is a small speck in the distance, pulling off his backpack. He waves me over.

And here we go.

I climb down, attempting the same path he took, and as predicted, it’s not as easy as it looked. I’m sweating and breathing heavily when I finally reach the cliff he’s standing above. “Now what?” I pant.

He punches something on his phone. “Too slow. Took you ten minutes to get here.”

I glance around. The rocks are sharp and steep. This can’t be safe. Running stairs would be better. “Why the cascades?”

He pauses from fidgeting with his phone and spears me with a look. “Half the mudder terrain includes a steep climbing element. The cascades are part of your conditioning.” He jerks his head in the direction we came. “There and back, eight minutes. Eight repetitions.” He holds up his phone to the zeroed time clock. “Beginning now.” He presses the start button and tenths of seconds fly upward.