Dan hoped the guy burned in hell. One of his lungs had already collapsed and the other had sprung a slow leak. He had to ask himself who he was still trying to impress, because if it was Jazz, that ship had sailed at least two obstacles back.
No, now he was in this for himself. What he lacked in speed he made up for in endurance. He’d already passed the halfway point without using his two tries. After today though, he planned on taking up running again. He wasn’t as fit as he’d thought.
The next two obstacles were easier and gave his scorched lungs a bit of a break. He ran across the balance beam, then ended the course with a stump hop that was more of a limp. He longed to pass out on the mats, but Brody was already pounding his back and offering congratulations, so dying was out of the question.
Jazz sprinted past him in a dash for the knotted rope, then skidded to a halt. She turned back to where he was trying to hang on to his dignity, and quite possibly, his breakfast. He caught her expression and realized she was going to quit now rather than show him up completely.
He didn’t need pity. There had to be some way he could turn this into a win.
“I bet you dinner that you can’t make it to the top of the rope with that pack on your back,” he wheezed.
The slight smile on her lips said she had nothing to prove, and furthermore, wasn’t falling for that. “Thanks, but I’m done for the day.”
“If I’d known a free meal was on the line, I’d have climbed it,” Brody said.
*
Jazz wondered whatthe penalty was for accidentally killing her boss, who also happened to be the county sheriff, because Dan looked like he might die.
She shouldn’t have given him the option of wearing full gear when she knew he hadn’t spent the necessary hours working out. She and Brody had gone through weeks of training before they’d suited up and run the entire course, and halfway through, when it became obvious he wasn’t going to quit, she’d felt mean. At least he’d had the common sense to slow down and take his time rather than charge full speed ahead, trying to keep pace with Brody.
Even so, his face was alarmingly red.
“Let’s get out of these suits and go grab some breakfast,” she said. “Are you hungry?”
“Starved.”
He was likely lying, because he sported a few classic symptoms of overexertion and hunger wasn’t among them. The red face suggested his blood pressure was higher than usual—although thankfully his breathing, while irregular, was already returning to normal, so by the time they got to the kitchenette, assuming he didn’t collapse first, he should be okay. A sports drink filled with electrolytes would do him wonders. She’d monitor him until convinced he’d survive.
Once their practice gear was properly stored, they crossed the tarmac in search of breakfast. The team on active duty had already finished eating and the kitchenette was empty. Brody grabbed a bagel and cheese, a bottle of apple juice, and an orange from the picked-over remains of the buffet spread out on the table.
“I’m not on call this week and the day job awaits,” he explained to Dan. “Gotta go.”
That left her alone with Dan—something she hadn’t thought through.
Her appearance, for example, was somewhat of a concern. While not particularly worried about makeup and such, she’d just run ten miles, then an obstacle course, and her hair was sticky with dried, salty sweat. Her shirt was stiff and her smell might be an issue. She’d love to grab a shower, but she couldn’t do that until after Dan had been fed.
Dan, on the other hand, had gotten his second wind. His shirt and jeans were clean because he’d removed them before running the course. His short blond hair, licked up in front from where he’d run his fingers through it, looked no worse for wear. And as for his smell…
He smelled delicious. A combination of aftershave and rugged outdoorsman wafted from him. Throw in intense blue eyes that didn’t miss much and he’d never need money for women to adore him. He made parts she sometimes forgot she owned tingle, and she wasn’t interested in him in the least—because she knew better.
She took two sports drinks and two bottles of water from the fridge and thrust one of each at him. “Drink them both,” she ordered. “The sports drink first, but you can water it down if you prefer.”
Blue eyes twinkled at her. “Yes, ma’am. Can I have orange juice, too?”
He was making fun of her, and okay, yes, maybe she’d sounded a bit more dictatorial than required, since he no longer looked as if he might pass out and die. “You’re welcome to whatever you want.”
His eyebrows rode up.
“Within reason,” she added. She was the red-faced one now, and it had nothing to do with overexertion. Why—why—did he always make her think about sex when he looked at her that way?
He cracked open the sports drink. “Definereason,” he said, before chugging half of it down. His eyes never left hers. She felt the heat of that gaze the entire length of her body, from her cheeks to her toes.
And, just like that, she was free-falling.
She could play this either one of two ways—pretend she didn’t know he was flirting with her, or she could address it head-on. Normally, she preferred the direct approach when it came to men in the workplace. It cleared the air. The few times it hadn’t, she’d simply reverted to avoidance and toughed out the season.
Dan, however, was her boss, and so far, avoiding him had gotten her nowhere. How could it, when she’d known who’d entered the lunchroom earlier without turning around, or Eli having to say a word? It was as if she’d developed some sort of Dan radar—a sixth sense. She got a little buzz whenever she heard the sound of his voice. Standing next to him left her light-headed. Therefore, she was part of the problem.