Just Count on Me: Counting on Love Prequel (3 page)

“There’s no back exit?” Conner asked, started for Cody to tell him the news. “This is an old school for Chrissake.”

“There is, but the door is stuck. Or locked. Or something is against it from the outside. She’s not sure, it just won’t move.”

Conner pulled up short. “She’s on the line now?”

“Yeah.”

Conner grabbed the phone from Mac. “Sara?”

“Conner, is that you? Oh, my god, are you out there?” She sounded panicky, but not hysterical, which Conner appreciated about her. She had to keep her cool for those kids.

“Yeah, it’s me. We’re gonna get you out of there.”

“You better.”

He wove in and out of firemen, searching for his friend, the Chief.

“Well, listen lady,” Conner said, trying for light and flirtatious like he always was, hoping to reassure her that everything would be fine. “When you get out of there, I’m first in line for mouth to mouth.”

She laughed, sounding tired. Though it wasn’t like he really knew her well enough to know if she sounded tired or not. “When I get out of here, I’m pretty sure I’m going to feel like kissing everybody.”

Goddammit where was Cody?

“That’s why us paramedics do what we do, babe.”

She laughed again, but this time it ended on what was definitely a sob. Conner would know that sound anywhere. His gut tightened and his fist tightened on Mac’s phone.

He stopped suddenly. Mac ran directly into him, sending him two steps forward before he swung around with a scowl. Did the guy have to be right on his ass?

He still didn’t see Cody so he took the phone away from his ear, covered the mouthpiece and bellowed, “Somebody tell me where the fuck Madsen is!”

“Over here!” someone shouted.

He headed in that direction. Back on the phone with Sara he said, “Honey, tell me where you are in the building exactly.”

“The girl’s locker room.”

“Right, but walk me to it. Like from the front doors.” He arrived next to Cody and covered the mouthpiece again for a moment. “Sara’s in the building…and on the phone. She’s going to walk you to where they are.”

Cody lifted the microphone on his headset. “Dennings, listen up,” he barked.

“Okay, Sara, go. I’m right here,” Conner said. “I’m going to repeat everything to Cody.”

Sara started walking him mentally through the building, giving him lefts and rights, things that would be in the rooms, how many doorways to count off, and other information that would lead the firemen inside to where they were at.

“It’s the last doorway in the hallway,” she finally said. “We’re all in here.”

“How many of you?” Conner asked.

“Eight,” she said. “Me and my sister and then six kids.”

Conner repeated the information to Cody, then felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Jessica is in there?”

It was Sam Bradford. He’d come over to join Mac.

Conner nodded. “Yeah. And six kids.”

“Ben’s not in there?” Sam asked with a frown.

“Sara, honey, is Ben there?” Conner asked.

“No.” There was a pause. Then she said, “Was he supposed to be?”

Conner repeated the question to the guys.

“We can’t get him on the phone,” Sam said. “We thought maybe he came down here.”

Conner knew Ben Torres from the hospital. He was one of the trauma surgeons so, unfortunately, their paths mostly crossed when Conner and the crew were bringing people in who needed Ben’s skills. But occasionally he’d pass Ben in the hallway or stand in line behind him in the cafeteria. Torres was a nice guy and a hell of a surgeon.

“Does Jessica know where Ben is?” Conner asked Sara.

Jessica Bradford Torres was a nurse and was the head of the ER. Conner knew her well too.

“He’s supposed to be at home with Ava,” Sara reported. “Jessica can’t get her phone to work in here. None of the others will, actually. We figure it’s all the cement and stuff. Don’t know why mine’s working.”

Conner made himself smile as he replied. “’Cuz we were meant to connect, Sara. You should just accept this as one more sign.”

“Conner.” She said it in that sweet, chiding tone that she always used when he flirted with her. He loved it.

She was always going to turn him down. He knew that. And if she was married to anyone but Mac Gordon, he probably would have laid off a long time ago. She was taken. He got it. But wow, it was such a great way to antagonize Mac. And Gordon had plenty of fun antagonizing Conner when he’d been a rookie and filling in on their crew, trying to build up his hours of experience. It was only fair.

Plus, Sara Gordon was it. She was the perfect woman. Gorgeous, funny, smart, sweet, baked like nobody’s business and blushed so adorably whenever he flirted. If he
didn’t
have a crush on her it would have been a sad commentary on his intelligence.

“Fuck.”

Conner’s attention was pulled to Cody—and the deep scowl his friend wore.

“They can’t get through. They’re blocked getting into that hallway.”

Conner’s stomach twisted. They’d have to find another way. And quick. If the fire was blocking that hallway, it was getting too close for comfort. Sara was right about the concrete of the locker rooms not burning, but that wasn’t the only risk in a fire. Smoke inhalation and toxic fumes were a real risk as was the chance for an explosion that would propel debris that could seriously injure someone. Debris like concrete pieces, for instance.

“There’s a door in back.”

They all turned. Ben Torres had arrived.

“Where?” Cody took off at a run, Ben right behind him.

“The door opens into the backyard. It’s not right by the locker rooms, but you can come from the back instead of the front where the flames are.”

Conner, Mac and Sam were right behind them.

“The door’s locked,” Sara said in Conner’s ear. “We couldn’t budge it.”

“We’re gonna need tools,” Conner called to Cody.

“Thomas, Buckely, Peterson, come with me!” Cody shouted. “Bring the tool box”

The door was, indeed, locked. Tight. It took three fireman leaning on the crowbar to finally pop the lock and wrench the door open. No smoke billowed out—a wonderful sign that the fire wasn’t anywhere near this area.

Conner turned immediately to Mac as the heavy metal door swung open, bracing a hand on the bigger man’s shoulder. “No way, big guy. You don’t have equipment on and this isn’t your show.”

Mac strained forward for just a moment, then he took a deep breath and leaned back on his heels. “Okay.”

Conner knew that Mac knew he was right, but adrenaline was pumping hard and the guy’s wife—his
pregnant
wife—was just inside, in danger.

“Here, talk to Sara,” Conner said, thrusting the phone at Mac.

Mac put the phone to his ear. “Hey, princess.”

Conner almost got choked up at the emotion in Mac’s voice.

“I love you too.” Then Mac cleared his throat. “Here.” He handed the phone back. “She wants to say something else to you.”

“Hey, Sara.”

“Conner, you better be close by. Because you
are
getting that kiss,” Sara said.

He grinned. He’d take it too. There would likely never be another opportunity and he was all for taking advantage of good fortune.

“I’ll be the good-looking guy dressed as a paramedic,” he told her.

She laughed and there was no tension now. “Noted.”

He handed the phone back to Mac. “Lucky bastard,” he said.

“I know,” Mac said sincerely. Then he put the phone back to his ear.

“Let’s go, Mac.” Kevin Campbell appeared out of the darkness, Dooley at his side.

“Yep, come on Sam,” Dooley said, gesturing in the direction they’d come. “Let’s get out of these guys’ way.”

The firemen were suited up. They pulled their helmets and masks into place and then turned on their high beam flashlights and plunged into the darkness inside the Center.

Part Four

“Put the oxygen mask on or I’m going to tell Conner that Sara said his uniform pants make his ass look great.”

Mac frowned at Gabrielle Evans, the other paramedic on Conner’s crew. “She never said that.”

“No, but Conner will
want
to believe it, so it will be like gasoline on that fire. No pun intended.”

That pun was totally intended. Mac grudgingly took the oxygen mask and put it over his nose and mouth. He didn’t need it, dammit. But as he breathed for a few seconds, he had to admit that some of the fogginess in his head faded and the tightness in his chest let go a little.

Fine. He’d had a tiny panic attack waiting for the firemen to get Sara out of the locker room. He watched as they escorted all six of the kids out first. He knew that Sara had insisted on that, even though she was
pregnant
.

He reached over and bumped the oxygen flow up just a bit on the machine, breathing in deeply. Gabby, bless her, pretended not to notice.

Finally he saw Jessica walking toward the trucks with one of the firemen. Ben met her halfway across the yard, folding her into his arms, his shoulder shaking with the waves of adrenaline he could finally let loose. If the guy wasn’t crying, Mac would be shocked.

He kind of planned to do a little of that himself.

And then there was Sara.

One of the guys was carrying her and Mac immediately dropped the oxygen mask and started forward.

“I twisted my ankle a little when we got to the locker room,” she said, holding up a hand and explaining before he even asked. “Otherwise, I’m fine.”

“Gee, three inch high heels and slippery tile floors don’t mix, huh?” he asked dryly, watching as the fireman set her on the bumper to the fire truck.

Mac immediately knelt in front of her, inspecting her ankles.

“These are only two inches high,” she said.

“They’re almost practical then.”

“Exactly.”

He focused on her ankle, prodding and rubbing, rotating the joint, checking the pulse…and not registering any of the information. That was all he could handle at the moment though. Taking care of that one little thing, that one small part of her, was far less overwhelming that looking up into her eyes, seeing her smile, taking in the slight swell of her belly and realizing that he could have lost her.

“Mac,” she said softly, her hand going to his head.

He leaned forward, resting his forehead against her knee, one hand cupping the calf of her leg while the other took her hand and linked their fingers.

He just sat like that, letting it all wash over him…and out of him. It was over. She was here, she was fine.

Sara stroked her fingers over the top of his head, comforting him. When he should be comforting her.

He drew in a long, shaky breath and finally made himself look up at her.

“I might prefer this to yelling,” she told him, her hand still resting on his head. “Though seeing you torn up kind of kills me.”

He nodded. “I’m torn up. Too torn up to know that I’m even supposed to be yelling.”

Sara’s eyebrows rose, but then she just nodded. “Right. Exactly. There’s nothing to yell about.”

“I thought I told you to replace that fucking thing!”

Looked like Sam knew what to yell about though.

Mac pivoted on the balls of his feet, still crouching in front of Sara. “Back off, Bradford. This can wait. Whatever it is.”

“Yeah, apparently Sara thought so too. That microwave is ancient,” Sam said, his attention back on his sister.

“I will definitely be replacing it now, don’t worry,” Sara said, her voice calm.

“That’s not funny,” Sam admonished.

It wasn’t. Mac turned back to her. “That’s the
old
microwave?”

“The torn up thing’s over, huh?” she asked.

“The torn up thing is
why
I’m yelling,” Mac said, stretching to his feet. “That microwave is the reason I lost six years off my life tonight. God, I’ve never been so sick and worried in my life.”

And just like that Sara was crying.

“Dammit,” Sam muttered. He didn’t do well with women’s tears, especially his sisters and his wife.

“Well, crap.” Mac did even worse than Sam did with Sara’s tears. He hauled her to her feet and up against his chest.

Holding her was his undoing. He felt the sting of tears in his own eyes and buried his face in her hair, breathing in her scent, absorbing the feel of her, the warmth, the curves, the silkiness of her skin.

They just stood holding each other like that for several long minutes.

Finally he let her go and turned her into her brother’s arms, swiping his hands over his eyes.

Sam held her tight too.

“I’m sorry,” she blubbered. “I’m sorry. I know it’s all my fault. I should have just done it right away. I didn’t know they were going to try to use it tonight—”