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Eva wrenched her arm away, numb with the thought he thought she couldn’t do his job. What an egotistical, short-sighted, ridiculous position to take. Hadn’t he always told her she could do anything she set her mind to? Hadn’t he always bemoaned the fact Chris had chosen botany, refusing to follow in his bootsteps? So what was wrong with his daughter putting her feet in the prints he'd trod?
"I can do whatever I want to do," she said.
"Eva, be sensible. Women aren't cut out for fighting fires. It’s a physical thing, honey, and maybe even a mental thing. It's like being a soldier, the mind-set is different. Stick to what you can do."
"I can't believe you just said that."
Charles had set his arm around her shoulders. ''Come on, don't be mad, Queen E."
"I am mad," she said, shrugging from beneath his arm. She didn't say anything more on the subject, but in her mind she'd made a vow to herself- she'd go to fire school and prove him wrong. The next day she'd started on her quest, going to GNC and buying protein powder, joining a gym, and orderingEssentials of Firefighting.
No one told Eva she couldn't do something. Except herself.
Which is why she wouldn't kiss Jake Beauchamp again. She'd told herself no, and she meant it.
"Hey, you want some cobbler? Mama sent some over." Jake stood in the door, his blue eyes searching, almost pleading, for things to be normal.
She straightened and dusted her hands, jarred from the memory of the day her father had set her path for her... by telling her she couldn't be a firefighter. "No, thanks. I've been eating some of Charlie's snacks and don't want to outgrow my clothes."
Jake's gaze lowered, brushing her body. "That would be a shame. You're perfect the way you are."
She snapped her fingers at him."Don't. Remember what we said. No flirting. No looking at my... ah..."
"Assets?"
"Yeah, that." She closed the filing cabinet drawer.
"Right," Jake said."I don't know why I said that."
Eva summoned a smile. Just be normal. "Because it's in your nature. You're a nice guy, Jake. You like people to be happy."
Jake's eyes narrowed, his bullshit meter obviously going off. "I'm not nice."
Eva laughed. "You're a Beauchamp. Being a good guy is part of your genetic makeup."
"Why are you being so nice to me? Is this how you're getting past wanting to rip my clothes off with your teeth?"
Eva laughed because he didn't say it as if he meant it. He said it the way he'd always said outrageous things. As if she was one of the guys. Not that he'd ever joke that way with one of the guys. She was certain there wasn't anyone in the fire house that would want to rip Jake's clothes off... but her. "If that's what you want to think, bud."
"So no cobbler? It's peach. Last of the ones Mom froze this summer."
"The answer's still no. Taking care of a kid means facing the temptation of mac and cheese and frosted cereals on a daily basis."
"I thought you were supposed to feed them organic crap and carrot sticks," Jake said, leaning against the doorjamb, his hair sticking out in eight different directions, his blue eyes bright against his tan. His casual sexiness was off the chart. She looked down at the folder she held and tried to remember what they were talking about.
Food and Charlie.
"Well, I gave him a break this past week. The carrot sticks and whole grain bread are waiting. Figured it was hard enough moving to a new place and starting a new school without taking away his fruity loops."
"How was yesterday, anyway?"
“As expected. He didn't want to go to school, he didn't eat his lunch, he didn't talk to anyone in class, and he thinks the mascot is dumb."
"What? Dragons are cool.”
"You'd think a six-year-old would think so."
Jake stood there a minute: “Anything I can do to help? Besides babysitting?"
