Stoking the Embers (New Adult Romantic Suspense): The Complete Series (5 page)

A silence filled with sympathy is broken as an ambulance’s siren fires up. We both turn to watch it pull from a fast food joint. Breakfast interrupted for those guys. I find myself wanting to follow them, help out. The need to make a difference always pushing me.

“It was really something, watching everyone at the accident scene,” she says after the ambulance turns a corner and its screams fade. “The way you worked together, firemen and paramedics. Even the police pitching in. It was pretty impressive, the work you do.”

“You told me you’re a nursing student. Ever think of becoming a paramedic?” I ask her, and watch her eyebrows draw together as she considers the question.

“I don’t think I could deal with that stress. If you’d asked me before the accident, I would’ve said maybe, or a flight nurse. But now, no way. I am glad I helped, but I don’t think I would hold up. I may go into obstetrics, it is usually much happier.”

I shrug my shoulders like a dork. “I understand how you feel, I thought about changing careers once, but realized someone needs to help. Besides, dreams die hard. I wanted to be a firefighter since forever. The crazy thing is, you get used to it. Not in an ‘it’s no big deal’ way, but you start seeing past the gore and the suffering and begin to focus on what’s important… one life at a time. As a bonus, you get the eternal gratitude of all those you saved and their friends and family.”

She gives me half a nod of her head, but it’s noncommittal at the least. She seems lost in thought, I can almost see her brain processing. She rubs an arm, wincing as she does.

“Still bruised up?” I walk closer to examine them. She lets me lift her sleeve and examine her arm. It’s spotted with black, some places already turning yellow. Despite the heat, her skin lifts into goose bumps as I stroke her soft skin.

She gently pulls away and pushes down her sleeve. “It’ll heal quickly enough. Just have to look like Frankenstein a few more days.” Does she always use humor as a defense mechanism?

“I know you probably have a boyfriend, but if you don’t, how about dinner tonight?” Shit, the words are out of my mouth before my brain realizes they are being formed. Hell, I can’t stop now. I decide to go for it. “My treat. Doesn’t even have to be a date… unless
you
want it to be.”

“Oh, I don’t know ...” she stammers. Struggle crosses her expressive face. I imagine an angel and devil on each of her shoulders, warring with the other. “I have to study and I’m really tired, but let me get your number, I’ll text you. Is that okay?”

Damn—kick in the balls number one for the day—I can’t tell if she’s interested or not. “I’ve heard that line from beautiful girls before, but I’ll make an exception for you. Here’s my number, 555-2439. But you gotta make me a promise.”

She looks up from her phone, where she’s saving my contact information. “Promise? I don’t normally make promises unless I can keep them.”

“You have to text me, even if it’s to say no.”

She smiles and nods. “I have to work until three today, but after that, I promise I’ll text or call you one way or another.” She lowers her eyes, biting that damn lower lip again. “You know, dinner sounds great. But…”

Damn, she’s on the verge of saying yes, I feel it. I stay silent, watching her process, letting her sweat it out.

“I’ll text you later. Promise.”

I turn to hide my disappointment, but catch her looking at my crotch. Mmm… maybe she is interested. That little furtive glance gives me hope. “Great. Talk later.”

I flip the handle on the gas pump a little harder than necessary and thrust the nozzle into the Hog, unsure why I feel so pissed. She’s just a girl, like a million others in this city. My ego’s just rocked a bit; I’m not really disappointed.

If she doesn’t text, I’ll hit up a strip club tonight or something. Maybe call a fuck buddy. Danielle or Misty? Hell, Jade or Michelle. I have a string of them. This girl pulling away from the station in her little Mazda shouldn’t matter at all.

How bout 6 at City Pub on Pecos?

I stare at the text message from Stephanie and feel a mixture of excitement and disgust. I thought she was different—wanted her to be different—from all the rest, but I guess not. Most girls play the ‘make him want me’ game, teasing and testing, doing shit like this. I can’t believe she waited until five o’clock to text me. Either she’s playing the game, or really just wants a free meal. Guess I’ll find out.

Ok, see u there.

City Pub is a cool little local chain and features some local microbrews, but I’ve never been to this location. The paintings of old cars and planes on the wall and the suede leather booths give it kind of an old-school vibe, but in a hip way. It’s almost like an art gallery, although a cold one. Why do they always keep the air conditioning so cold in these Vegas dives?

Turning to my right when I hear the server greeting me from ten feet away, I’m surprised to see one of the thirty-somethings that works at the SaveAll. Tall and blonde, she was probably a highly sought after date when she was younger. She still looks way better than average for her age.

“I know you.” Her friendliness bubbles over and I expect her to begin chewing gum at any moment. Maybe blow a bubble. I know this type, the ones desperately hanging onto youth. I can almost feel her silent begging for attention. Sad.

“And I know you.” I toss her a bone and feel a little guilty when her eyes light up. “SaveAll, right? I didn’t know you worked here too.”

“Yeah, Vegas is an expensive city. If you don’t hook or strip, the opportunities for single mothers can be pretty limited.”

That’s the truth. I often wonder why ‘normal’ people live in this city. It’s expensive and crowded, but also addicting in the energy that’s alive 24-7. Hell, I love it even in the moments I hate it. I get why she stays.

“Well, nice to see you again. I’m waiting on someone, but I can grab a table if one’s empty.”

“You’re here to meet Steph, right? I heard you guys were meeting for dinner. Be careful with that one.”

Taken slightly aback, I respond, “Wow, word travels fast around here.”

“You know us girls. But seriously, Steph’s a nice girl, and I don’t want to see her get hurt again.”

Awkwardly I respond, “We’re not really on a date, so don’t worry too much. I’m a nice guy, remember, I rescue people, save cats, leap burning buildings.” Damn, that was lame.

“Uh huh.” She’s not impressed. Walking me to a quiet booth in the back, she asks, “Would you like something to drink before your
non-date
gets here?” The sarcasm gets lost in the bright smile she’s giving me.

Since it’s a night of firsts, I guess I’ll have a brew I’ve never tried before. “Sure, let me try the summer seasonal. It isn’t too bitter, is it?”

“No, it is very light and refreshing. I like it, so I guess that makes it a chick beer.” She laughs, finding her own humor hilarious.

“Chick beer it is then.”

As she turns and walks away, I notice Stephanie walk through the door. She gives the hostess a big hug and is pointed in my direction. I notice Stephanie shooing her away, looking slightly uncomfortable as the hostess tries to hover. Oh well, I guess that’s the life of a single person. Always being teased and cajoled into meeting people.

Who is this girl? I can’t help wondering as she walks my way. One part shy, and then she shows up at our non-date looking hot as hell. She’s in a strapless sundress, one of those multi-color things that cling to her breasts and then drops to her knees, the skirt presses between her thighs as she walks. Damn, her tits bounce, they’re the perfect size. And natural. Unusual in this city of plastic. I can almost see them rocking on her chest as I rock into her, pounding into her body. I imagine her wrists tied to my bedposts, ankles crossed behind my back.

Shit… down boy.

“Hi Stephanie, you look great.” I stand, not only to greet her, but to rearrange my growing cock. I’m glad I wore a shirt that hangs on the outside.

“Thank you.” She blushes and looks at the floor. “No need to stand, this isn’t the 1950’s anymore.” She still hasn’t looked directly at me. What is this girl’s game?

“I know, but my mother raised me to respect women. Some habits die hard.”

When she sits down, I can’t help but notice her nipples through the material of the cloth. Like all Vegas spots, it’s cold in here and her body is responding. She crosses her arms, her hands warming her upper arms that have broken out in goose bumps.

My summer beer arrives just as Stephanie sits down. It isn’t a bad beer, not quite as strong as I would like normally, but quite refreshing nonetheless.

“Heya Steph. Want your usual?” her co-worker asks.

“Not sure, I think I want something new.” She points at my beer. “What’s that?”

As the hostess gives her the 411 on the beer and other selections available tonight, I watch her interact, the way she hides her smile behind her hand, the way she pushes a strand of hair behind an ear. How she bites her lip in indecision.

“Do you mind if I try a little of yours?” she asks me, and I peel my eyes away from her mouth. Damn, for the life of me I can’t tell if she’s shy or flirtatious. The way her eyes lift to mine, then flicker away. Does she do it on purpose?

“That’s cool. You don’t have any cooties do you?” She laughs at my pathetic attempt at humor and it’s a beautiful, musical one-note of sound. I push my glass toward her, just enough to make her lean forward. Yes, her breasts flatten against the tabletop, cleavage pushing up. Mmm. I’m already addicted to her tits.

“This is great. Get me one of these, Robin. It’s perfect for a hot night.” Did she emphasize ‘hot’ or is it my imagination?

Robin steps away to fill our order and silence settles between us like a wall. Why is it always the same? This first-date awkwardness? I can tell she’s feeling it too and doesn’t know how to break it.

Thank God her beer arrives; I’m ready for a second. Maybe this would loosen us both up a bit.

“Tell me about nursing…”

“Tell me about being a fire ...”

Our questions collide. We laugh and I give her the ‘you go’ signal to finish.

Still smiling, she goes on, “You got me thinking about being a paramedic, but I want to know the reality of it all. It can’t be all glamour. Is it like being a cop? Hours of boredom interspersed with minutes of sheer panic?”

The beer is taking effect and I’m finally starting to get my groove back. “No, it’s more like minutes of boredom followed by hours of panic. The cops usually get to stand around, controlling the environment after we show up, but not us.”

Looking up to the ceiling for the right words, I glance back down to see Stephanie in deep contemplation.

“It’s just that the accident really shook me up.” She rubs her arms again, hugging herself against the cold air. “I don’t really know if I can handle all the death and destruction every day. I have to admit though, the adrenaline rush was addicting.”

“Stephanie.”

“Please, call me Steph.”

“Okay, Steph, the adrenaline, the way you felt it, goes away after a short time. Sure, you get excited, but very few things can make me feel like that first call. Training and experience kick in; along with your survival instinct. After a while, the adrenaline becomes fuel.”

Her extraordinary eyes meet mine, lingering this time and her eyebrows come together in a silent question. “Seriously. It’s not like you become immune to the horror, you just start looking past it, focusing on what you can do instead of what you can’t.”

She bit her lip again. “That happened to me. When I realized I had to get all the others out instead of staying with the injured couple. I hated that moment. Hated feeling like I was choosing.”

I wanted to reach across to her, stroke her face, comfort her. Erase the ghosts in her mind.

“You did good, and I’m not just saying that to get in your pants. You have great instincts and without training, did better than most rookie firefighters. Do you know how close that van was to blowing?”

She shakes her head no.

“Minutes,” I tell her and she shivers. “You did the right thing. I really do think you would make a great paramedic. There are very few RN’s that leave the hospital and become first responders and they are so valuable. Whether they become flight nurses or paramedics, it’s a blessing to all of us.”