By the Numbers (12 page)

Deuce was right -- in very short order people started making a beeline to their blanket, barely even pausing to say hello to Deuce before fawning over the puppies and Q. Each time someone came by, no matter if it was a co-worker or a co-worker's child, Deuce introduced Trey and explained how they met, clearly proud to tell the world that Trey was a hero who saved pregnant dogs.

"That's really cool," one guy said, petting Q and tugging on Six's ears, even while he looked at Trey. He'd been introduced as Adam-from-graphics. "Do you do that often? Rescue pets, I mean."

"Not a lot, no." Trey laughed and took his flip-flop away from Pi. "Most of the time it isn't safe. I've saved a couple of cats, though. Q was my first dog."

Deuce was smiling, watching Adam pet Q. "She went right to him, he said. She's a smart one -- knows who her friends are."

Adam nodded. "Well, I think it's cool, and great that you guys hooked up." He got up and brushed sand off his legs. "Volleyball in a bit. Do you play?" he asked Trey.

He did, but not well. "Sure. Just don't expect an Olympic medal out of me." Trey smiled up at Adam-from-graphics. Cute, if you liked the slim, bookish type. "Come back and pay more attention to the dogs so Deuce and I can have a break later."

"Oh, I'm sure there'll always be someone willing to watch them for a bit." Adam laughed and headed off, replaced almost right away by three kids, each about ten years old.

Most of the next hour went that way, with them not even leaving their blanket and Trey being able to meet almost everyone. Of course, with everyone paying attention to the puppies, it was anyone's guess how many of Deuce's co-workers would even remember his name.

Finally, all three of the dogs flopped out in the shade created by a couple of coolers. "Want to swim?" Deuce asked him. "We can find someone to dogsit for a bit, I'm sure. Or we can play ball -- even just get a free burger."

The ocean looked cool and inviting, although Trey knew that looks were deceiving and the water was probably still icy at this time of year. Still, just sitting there in the sun had made him sweat. "Swim." Trey took off his T-shirt and laid it over the back of a chair.

"Nice." Deuce leered at him a little and looked around. "Hey, Jesse! We're going to swim for a few, can you make sure the dogs don't run off?"

"Yeah, sure." Jesse brought his drink and sat down in Deuce's chair, gathering all the leashes into his hand. "Have fun, don't drown."

Deuce rolled his eyes and peeled off his T. "Back soon." He nodded at Trey and they headed to the water. "So, how's it going so far?" he asked, taking hold of Trey's hand.

Trey tightened his fingers around Deuce's. His first instinct was to look around to see if anyone was watching, but then he realized two things. The first was that he didn't care, and the second was that no one else seemed to, either. So different from his own work environment.

"Going okay," he replied. He squished his toes into the wet sand as they approached the water's edge. "But your buddy said the magic word. 'Drown'."

"He said
don't
drown." Deuce grinned at him. "We're not going to. You can swim, right?"

"Yeah." Trey chuckled. "The last class I took for my required educational hours this year was swift water rescue. But every fireman and rescue worker will tell you that you don't say 'drown' around water and you don't say 'fall' around tall buildings. 'Crash' is also another one you shouldn't say, mostly when you're talking about bike riding or driving. Now it's inevitable that there's going to be a water accident." He was only half kidding. Sort of.

Deuce blinked at him. "I suppose there are more superstitions. I'd rather not know, though." He pointed to the water. "We will swim. Dog paddle, even. But not that other thing." He gave Trey's fingers a squeeze. "Stick close to me."

"I'm not worried about us." Trey laughed and waded into the water. He was right, it was chilly. Gooseflesh rose on his arms, and he figured he might as well just go for it. A small wave was coming their way, and Trey dove under it, pulling Deuce with him.

Deuce came up laughing and sputtering, shaking water out of his hair, not unlike one of their dogs. "Hey! It's cold!" Deuce glanced back, probably for the next wave. "You're going to have to promise to warm me back up, later."

"That was the idea behind it, yeah." Trey swam over and wrapped his arms around Deuce from behind, half standing, half floating. "How long does this go on? To campfire time?"

"Most of the families will leave around suppertime, but the rest will stay." Deuce leaned into him, one hand on Trey's arm to keep him there. "There'll be a few drinks, some laughs. More food."

It sounded like a great way to spend his day off. "Okay, I'm in. Hey, I like your people."

"They're not a bad lot. Calum's not here yet." Deuce grinned and turned in his arms. "Maybe he'll show up later." He looped ocean-cold arms around Trey's neck. "Kiss me. Then we'll swim. There's waves coming."

Trey did, tasting salt and a little bit of sand and pure Deuce underneath. Spicy and warm and open and loving; Trey had never met anyone like him at all. "Thanks," he murmured against Deuce's mouth. "This is just what I needed."

"A day at the beach?" Deuce said between one kiss and the next. Someone wolf whistled.

Upon hearing the whistle, he could feel himself blush, though Trey couldn't bear to pull away. "I guess, yeah. And just to be with you." The short visit from Holly that morning had left him with a bad taste in his mouth. "Time together."

"Best kind of time there is." Deuce kissed him again and let go. "Swim before I get all turned on. More, I mean." He winked outrageously before diving into the next wave.

The day passed in a blur of water, people, dogs, and food. Trey and Deuce spent much of the time on their blanket with plates of burgers and chips. The puppies had no shortage of playmates throughout the day, as there was a steady stream of Deuce's co-workers dropping by to cuddle a dog or two. It was a good way to socialize while staying in one place, Trey realized.

He was just wondering if he should offer to help the two guys who were trying to light the campfire when Trey heard a woman's panicked cry. "I need help!" came the call from the edge of the water. He raised up on one elbow and scanned the shoreline for the source.

A young lady that Deuce had introduced to Trey earlier was pacing back and forth in the shallow water. Cassidy? Trey thought. No, it was Cassandra. He watched as she looked frantically from someone in the water to the people on shore. "Please! He's too far out!"

Trey sat all the way up and assessed the situation. Was she talking about a kid? From his vantage point, it didn't look like a child. Trey could see an adult male in the water and he didn't appear to be struggling. There was no sense in rushing into the water to save someone that didn't need to be saved. That would just be embarrassing for both of them. Besides, the lifeguard needed something to do.

Except a glance over his shoulder at the tower told Trey that the lifeguards had all gone off duty at six p.m. sharp. Crap.

"What do you see?" he asked Deuce. Always good to get a second opinion.

Deuce sat up, frowning. "Someone's out there, not a kid. Look, Cass isn't a drama queen." He was getting up. "If she needs help, she needs help."

Trey got up too, but he hung back a bit to see if anyone else had noticed. Sure enough, two or three people were moving down the sand toward Cassandra to see what the trouble was. He followed them, but slowly. Playing hero out in public was different when he wasn't in uniform. "Come on, we can check it out." He waited until Deuce had handed off the dogs' leashes to someone else.

"Thanks, Emily," Deuce said absently. "Hold 'em tight." Then he nodded at Trey and started a slow jog to the waterline. "Can you still see him?" he asked.

"Yeah." The man looked like he was floating, not floundering, but he also didn't appear to be making his way to shore. The light was fading and the air was cooling down, as it always did on southern California evenings. The water out there would be quite cold. They reached the edge of the small crowd that had gathered near Cassandra.

"He waved at me, but he won't come in," she was fretting. "His bad leg must have cramped up and he can't swim in. I don't know what to do for him." She looked as if she was half-poised to swim out there herself, which Trey knew he couldn't let happen.

He looked at Deuce and sighed. "You want to go get him?" It was a joke, sort of.

"I could." Deuce shrugged one shoulder. "Don't want him to drown." He looked unhappy, too, but he also looked... hopeful. "Should I call someone specific? 911? Get anything?"

"I'm 911," Trey said glumly. Honestly, he really hated doing this stuff out of uniform. People always fussed over him. He looked around one more time to see if anyone was going to make a move to go out there, but no dice. Damn. Trey kicked off his flip flops and handed Deuce his T-shirt. "Hold this."

"Should I go with you or will I be in the way?" Deuce took the shirt and gave him a look that was mixed sympathy and admiration.

Trey kissed him quickly and waded into the water. "Wait here and try to downplay it. Seriously." He dove under the next wave and began to swim against the strong current toward the man in the water.

The man wasn't actually as far out as he appeared from shore, but Trey was still breathing hard by the time he got to him. "Hey," he shouted over the waves. "I'm an off-duty fireman." Law required him to say it, though he didn't like to. "What kind of help do you need?"

The man looked at him from where he was floating, his face a grimace of pain. "Jelly fish. I can't even get one of my legs to move properly -- it's bad, anyway." He looked cold, too, and more than a little scared. "How far out are we?" he called to Trey.

"Not too far. But it's high tide and a little rough. You can't swim at all?"

"Maybe a backstroke. Can't kick. Go in circles if I do." The man was talking, at least, and not trying to get to Trey so he could cling.

Trey laughed at that and the guy laughed too, despite his obvious pain. "Okay. We'll do it like this, then." He circled around the man from behind and slid one arm across his chest. With the guy in a secure hold, Trey began to kick toward shore. "What's your name?"

"Cecil. Should I try to swim?" His voice was constricted, either from cold or pain. "Watch out for the jelly. Trust me."

"Don't worry, I got it." It was hard to tell if the man's voice was changing due to throat constriction or just the cold water. "Difficulty breathing or swallowing?" Christ, the sand was further away than it looked, and Cecil was not a small guy. Trey's heart was pounding from the exertion.

"I don't think so. Tired. Sore. What's your name, did you say?"

"Sorry, I didn't. I'm Trey." He kicked harder and let one of the waves wash them in a bit more. "Ever been stung before?"

"No. Hurts like a son of a bitch. My whole leg seized up tight." Cecil was breathing hard, but he could speak and make sense.

Trey nodded in sympathy and kept swimming. They were nearly there and he could make out faces on the beach. One of them was Deuce, still holding Trey's T-shirt and chewing on a thumbnail. "You'll live," Trey told Cecil, then stopped talking altogether until they finally reached the shore. "Can you stand?" he asked, once they were in the shallows with a crowd approaching.

"I can sure as hell try." Cecil floated for a moment, bobbing beside him, and righted himself. His face grew even tighter and he gripped one of Trey's arms. "Thank you. I mean it. Before my wife gets here and starts fussing." She was coming fast, along with a few of the guys Deuce worked with. "Thank you."

Trey nodded in acknowledgement and supported Cecil as best he could. "Let's get to the sand. I'll look at your sting before someone takes you to the emergency room. You don't really need a hospital, but I don't have everything you'll need to take care of it. Hop with me, if you can."

Cecil hopped. "Hospital will be the only thing to calm Cass. Trust me."

Deuce wasn't exactly with the approaching group all eager to help Cecil to the sand, but he was there, off to the side a little, clearly waiting on Trey. "Need help?" he called.

"We're good." He smiled his thanks. "Get my keys from my backpack and go to my truck. My first-aid kit is under my seat." Someone had brought one of the beach chairs to the edge of the dry sand and Trey lowered Cecil into it, then looked around thoughtfully. "Is there a basin here somewhere? Maybe for sand toys or whatever?"

Deuce had taken off already, and one of the guys he worked with -- not Adam, the other guy from graphics -- said he'd find one and darted off to where a group of kids were sitting next to their sand castle, staring over. He came back with one of their buckets, a shallow bowl about ten inches across and eight deep. "This okay?"

"That works."
Trey knelt down and gently lifted Cecil's foot into the empty bucket. "Sorry," he apologized when Cecil winced. "Yeah, good." He nodded and craned his neck to see if Deuce had found the kit.

He was coming across the sand in that same loose-limbed jog, his long legs eating the distance. It wasn't far, anyway, but Deuce proved to be swift, which was a plus; Cecil's wife looked like she was about to turn herself inside out, though she wasn't making Trey's job hard yet.