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“Wouldn’t be showing a gender bias, would you, Captain?” This from the damn peanut gallery, otherwise known as James.
I toss a scowl his way.
Lia ignores us both and steps up to my side, unwrapping another package of ribs. “I love cooking,” she breezes, pretending there’s no tension over her presence here. “My mom is Puerto Rican. Cooking is an expression of love for her.” She’s already slapping down ribs like she’s a butcher’s wife. She tips her head up to look at me. “You have a special recipe, Captain?”
I stare down at her big green eyes, fascinated with the gold flecks, the long, naturally dark lashes. For a moment, I can’t think of anything but how much I’d like her cooking special meals just for me, serving them up with her as dessert. I pull another scowl to cover. “Just barbecue sauce.”
“Mmm.” She makes a non-committal sound and starts opening cabinets. Pretty soon she’s rubbing the meat with some kind of olive oil and spice concoction before she folds the foil up into neat little packages.
“Little hint, Sparks,” Rocket says to Lia. “You’re not supposed to make the captain look bad. Haven’t you wondered why we call him Blaze?”
“Temper?” She steals a look at me.
“Yep.”
Her nipples bead up under her t-shirt. I almost growl out loud, thinking that the other guys might notice.
“I’m not afraid of him,” she says lightly, inciting a chorus of “oohs” from the guys.
“Oh you should be, little gi—”
Damn. Icannotcall herlittle girlaround here.
I clear my throat. “I mean, uh, Sparks.”
James snorts. “You’re so worried aboutusgetting the department slapped with a harassment suit.”
Lia pops the ribs in the oven and starts washing the lettuce for the salad.
“Are you telling me strip poker was a good idea?”
He shrugs. He’s the one who bitched the loudest when I told him they hired a female for the vacant position. It’s his cousin J.J. who Lia replaced after J.J. fell off the ladder and broke his back. He survived. He may even walk again. But it will be a long slow recovery and he won’t ever join us or any other crew again. We’re all sorry as hell he was hurt on the job. “I don’t think any of this is a good idea.”
Lia turns slowly. “Any of what, exactly?” Her chin lifts, green eyes pin him.
James scowls and stands up like he’s disgusted with her and the whole conversation. “You have no idea what this job is about, do you?” he snarls.
The certainty slips from her expression for a moment, and I’m relieved she realizes there’s more to this than sexism. She glances at me and I give my head a small shake.
Her gaze slips back to James. “I’m hoping to learn,” she says simply.
James snorts and leaves the room.
I’m dying to wrap Lia up in my arms, but, of course, I can’t. Rocket’s up behind her, dropping a hand on her shoulder. I should be grateful the rest of the crew has some sympathy, but the sight of him touching her makes my fingers curl into fists.
And of course, that’s when the alarm sounds, ending any chance for explanations or discussion.
* * *
Lia
I callmy cousin Talia on the way to Blaze’s.
“Hey, girl. How’s the new job?”
I close my eyes, grateful for her enthusiasm. As the only girl in a male-dominated family, I latched onto my older cousin like we were sisters. She spent a couple summers with us when she was a teen and I stayed with her for a few months after I graduated high school—when I was trying to figure out what to do with my life. She pretty much got me on the track that led me here. I sometimes joke that she’s my life coach.
“Hey. It’s good. Hard, but good.”
