Swept Away (Wildfire Lake #3) - Skye Jordan Page 0,6

it is fierce.

“Women really do want to be loved for who they are as a whole.”

“Whoa, who’s talking about love? I’m talking about a date.”

She gives me a dismissive look and shakes her head. “God knows I was never as beautiful as Chloe, but I had it going on in my day, and the guys that made inroads with me were the ones who took the greatest interest in me outside of sex. That girl is a business whiz. An entrepreneurial inspiration. A generous and beautiful soul who draws people from every walk of life. Do you know what her memberships cost?”

“What memberships?”

Sadie rolls her eyes, shakes her head and shoos me away like a fly. “Go ask her.”

I head toward the register, pausing to pull a Red Bull from the cooler. My mind is tripping all over itself to try to understand what Sadie’s told me, but I feel like my brain has been replaced by a block of concrete.

I consider this is where the term blockhead originated.

“Sadie,” I call toward the deli, “do you happen to know what she likes to drink?”

“Kombucha.”

Oh, for God’s sake. “Was that English?”

Sadie comes out from behind the counter and opens another cold case two doors down. “Kombucha.” She pulls out a healthy-sized brown glass bottle with a colorful label. “It’s a fermented tea with lots of health benefits.”

I take the bottle and eye the vintage-style label skeptically. “Sounds and looks like snake oil if you ask me.”

“I didn’t ask you. In fact, you asked me.”

Sadie returns to the deli, and I’m left there, staring at a drink I can’t pronounce, realizing that even after a year of trying to take our friendship to the next level, Chloe is as much a mystery to me as this concoction I’m holding.

The early June day is a perfect seventy-six degrees, and after I pay at the register, I take my brown bag around the corner to the bench that sits under a wooden arch supporting colorful bougainvillea vines.

This Wednesday midday class is my favorite, because when Chloe’s finished teaching, she comes out to chat with me over lunch. When we’re both busy, I know I’ll at least get to see her on Wednesday.

Today, I’ll have to miss out on our chat, though. I’ve got a massage scheduled with Trish, a bodywork specialist who works out of Wanderlust. I’ll have to settle for drooling over Chloe as she teaches.

I shift on the bench, searching for a comfortable position. My back feels like coiled wire, partially from work, partially from CrossFit, and I consider seeing Trish more often.

Across the narrow side street, just twelve feet away, Chloe stands in front of a mirrored wall, facing the street, issuing instructions to the others in the room. As her students stand tall and bring the instep of one foot flat against their other leg, creating a sort of figure four, I check out Chloe’s outfit.

I stopped trying to figure out women’s clothing a long time ago, but Chloe’s got the sexiest workout clothes I’ve ever seen. She prefers the low-waisted leggings to the high-waisted ones most women wear, and she’s also partial to sports bras with all sorts of stylish colors and cutouts and straps. Honestly, they look more like a cross between lingerie and bikini tops. I’m certainly not complaining.

Today, her color of choice is pink. A middle-of-the-road pink, or maybe a little on the purple side. All I know is that without a pattern on the fabric hiding what’s beneath, I see every luscious dip and curve, every inch of exposed smooth, tan skin and taut muscle. And that navel piercing teases my gaze to the ripples of her ab muscles.

My radio on my shoulder chatters with nonsense calls, and I turn down the speaker. I’m off duty for the next hour and a half, giving me enough time for lunch and massage.

When I worked in San Francisco, I’d be lucky to shove a few bites of food into my mouth before we were dispatched to the next call. Even after a year in this county, it’s still hard for me to call this work. Patrolling anything less intense than the streets of San Francisco feels like a fucking vacation. That was fun at first. Manageable midway through my first year, but now it’s mind-numbing.

If it weren’t for Chloe and Piper, this small-town bullshit would be unbearable. But if Piper gets through this summer without any behavior problems and Chloe’s still got me caged in the friend