Hot Nights with the Fireman by Lynne Silver Page A

off the insight with a physical head shake. “It’s a ridiculous thought, though.”
    “Why?” He looked curious and challenging all at once.
    “Well, for one, I’m hoping to make partner someday. And two, I have bills to pay and a reputation in the industry. I’m already invested in my career. I can’t simply jump ship.”
    “So?” He shrugged. “Figure it out.”
    She rolled her eyes and started walking toward the car again. “Yeah, right. I turn twenty-eight in a few months. It would be ridiculous to start over.”
    “You’re not even thirty. That means you have thirty-plus years before you think about retirement. Do you really want to be stuck in the same path you’ve been in for thirty more years?”
    Well, no. Not when he put it that way.
    “Your face lit up when you mentioned working with charities. Did you know that?”
    No, she hadn’t, but she could imagine.
    “No one is forcing you to stay in your job, Valerie.”
    “No, but it’s laughable to switch careers at this stage, even if I wanted to.”
    “You could do it,” Jason said. “And it’s not really switching careers, right? It’s more like switching clients.”
    Exactly what she’d been telling herself. And ignoring. “I’ll give it some thought,” she said lightly, but she knew she wouldn’t. The idea was too overwhelming and huge to consider. “What about you?” she asked. “If the career fairy came knocking on your door? What would you ask for?”
    “Nothing,” came his rapid response. “I’m doing exactly what I want to be doing.”
    Lucky him. “Really?” she asked, somewhat shocked that someone could actually like having a job facing a frightening fire every night. “You never wish you did a job that wasn’t life-or-death dangerous?”
    He shrugged. “The truly terrifying calls happen so rarely. Usually we’re squirting cats out of trees with our hoses or cleaning the equipment.”
    She laughed in shock. “You do not squirt cats out of trees.” At this time of night on a weekday, Georgetown was devoid of its usual throngs of revelers, and they were able to walk side by side on the sidewalk.
    “True story if we’re running low on time.”
    “You’re very lucky to be exactly where you want to be.”
    “Well—” He pursed his lips and looked ahead as if he wanted to say something, but changed his mind.
    “Well, what?” she asked. “Come on, you made me spill one of my more precious secrets, so secret I barely knew about it.” What was it about Jason that had her confessing things she’d barely released from her subconscious? Yet another sign that he was dangerous to her equilibrium and life as she knew it.
    A small smile ghosted over his lips. “I want to make the USAR Team 1.”
    “The what?”
    “The Urban Search and Rescue team,” he explained.
    She’d heard of the team. Everyone in the area had. Anytime there was a catastrophe in the world such as an earthquake or a tsunami, the Search and Rescue Team was on a plane within hours to go assist. They were tough, and from what she knew, they were an elite group of people. Jason’s confession made her consider him in a new light. A light that had more layers than simply casting him as a womanizer. “So do it,” she said, echoing his earlier words back to him. At this point, they’d arrived at her car, and she unlocked it with a beep of the key fob. When they were both inside and buckled, he continued talking.
      
    He couldn’t believe he’d told her about his dream to make the Search and Rescue Team. He’d never told anyone, but there was something innately trustworthy about Valerie. As if she’d really hear you, not just listen to your words.
    “How do you make the team?” she asked after she’d reversed out of the driveway and was back on the main road.
    “You apply,” he said.
    “And? That’s it? Do it. What’s stopping you?”
    About four essays. “Nothing. I’m going to apply for it in a few weeks.” But then he shuttered