He wanted to say no because it seemed important to get Kaia out of his car before she wanted to talk about Walter's request that he play the song. On the other hand, he was hot, and a smoothie sounded good.
"There's a great juice bar a few blocks from here," she added. "While you're still deciding whether you want to get rid of me or not."
"I was just debating whether I wanted a smoothie."
"You do. They make them with fresh, organic fruit. They're great."
"As in gelato great?" he asked with a smile. "Because great seems to be one of your favorite words."
"Only when it comes to cold treats."
"Fine. Give me directions."
* * *
*.* *
* * *
Kaia directed Jax to her favorite smoothie place, fighting the urge to ask him at least one of the dozen questions running through her head. Why had he said he couldn't read or play music when, clearly, he could? And why had he tried to help Walter, but then drawn the line on playing Reina's music? But she couldn't ask him anything, because she wanted a smoothie and more time with him, and none of that would happen if she made him jumpier than he already was.
His mysterious background aside, he was also the only one who could understand and share in the craziness they had just experienced, and she wanted to talk about it with him before he retreated into his apartment at Ocean Shores. And maybe back into his life, now that the thread connecting them had been tied off.
When they reached the small shop with a sidewalk patio, she ordered a fruit-and-veggie smoothie while Jax opted for one with just fruit. Once they'd picked up their drinks, they sat down at an outside table that was thankfully in the shade and close enough to the ocean to catch a breeze.
"You don't have to work today?" Jax asked.
"I'm on graveyard shift tonight, so I go in at eleven."
"That's rough. You work all night?"
"Eleven to seven."
"Aren't you going to be tired?"
"I'll take a nap this afternoon. I'm good at running on a few hours of sleep."
"Is your schedule always so varied?"
"Not usually, but we have had some people out lately, so we've all had to be flexible."
"It must be an exciting job. You never know what you're going to get, right?" he asked as he sipped his drink.
"That's for sure. Every call is a new adventure. Some are routine. Some are critical. Some are strange. I see people from all walks of life. It can be a wild ride."
"You love it, don't you?"
"Most of the time. But lately, I wish I could do a little more than just put a Band-Aid on someone and drop them off at the hospital."
"I'm sure you have to apply more than Band-Aids. You're downplaying your value."
"It still doesn't always feel like enough."
He gave her a thoughtful look. "What would you rather be doing?"
She hesitated, not sure she was ready to voice her idea, not just to him but also to herself. Finally, she said, "There's a new program called paramedicine that's starting in various places around the country where paramedics are called in for more than just triage. They work with individuals who might need more complex care with issues like drugs, alcohol, mental health, and poverty. It's for people like Walter whose neighbor called 911 for him three times in the last two weeks. He's what we call a frequent flyer. This program would allow me to get more involved in helping the patient find care outside of the emergency room."
"That sounds right up your alley."
