Brooke awoke to the sun pouring in through the window and splashing all over her face with startling cheer.
But she always shut her shades, so…
She jerked upright. Yep, she wasn’t in her bed, she was in Zach’s. Legs entwined, arms entwined, no covers in sight because their body heat had been enough. Once again she’d slept the entire night wrapped around him as if…
As if she belonged here.
Zach stirred, opened an eye. He had two days’ growth on his jaw, and some serious bed-head, and he looked so hot she wanted to gobble him up.
Again. “Overslept,” she said, and tried to free herself. “Going to be late-” She broke off when he merely tightened his grip on her. “What?”
“Just wondering if it worked. If I’m suitably relaxed or if maybe we should kept working on it.”
She stared into his gorgeous, sleepy face and remembered his warning not to fall in love with him. “You’re fine.” She scrambled up, glanced at the clock again on the off chance it had miraculously changed in her favor. “Where the hell are my panties?”
Zach came up on an elbow and surveyed the room. “There.”
On his lamp. Perfect. Her bra was draped over a bedpost like a trophy. Snatching it up, she glared at him, just lying there looking like sin on a stick. “I’m late,” she said more to herself. Very late. Late for the rest of her life, which was right around the corner. In fact, she was meeting the real estate agent today to discuss an offer she’d received on the house yesterday. With a sigh, she headed toward the door.
“Brooke?”
She turned back. “Yes?”
“Be careful out there.”
“I always am.”
“I know. But…”
But now one of them was a possible arsonist and had hurt Zach. Anyone could get hurt. She got that. “I can take care of myself.”
“But-”
“And after next week, I’ll be on my own.” Because that brought a lump to her throat, she had to swallow hard to continue. “I realize that last night was mostly my doing, but you should know, I got an offer on the house. Three more shifts, and I’m gone.”
He closed his eyes, but not before she saw a flash of emotion much deeper than affection. “I know.”
“Goodbye, Zach.”
Now he opened those eyes again, and let her see his sadness. “Is that it? Goodbye, the end?”
“What else is there?”
When he opened his mouth and then shut it, she shook her head. “Exactly. Goodbye, Zach.”
Well, what had she expected, a marriage proposal? She’d only met him five and a half weeks ago, and he wasn’t exactly known for being a commitment king. Brooke drove to work, not acknowledging the burning in her eyes, doing her damnedest not to think about the fact that he’d let her walk away.
He’d let her say goodbye.
She pulled into the parking lot. With Zach and Blake both still out, plus several others hit by a flu bug, she was on the B shift for the first time, with a whole new gang, and she found herself working with an EMT named Isobel. Adding to her stress, Brooke was the scheduled driver for the day, which began the moment she got out of her car and the bell rang.
“Watch your speed,” was Isobel’s most common refrain, uttered every two seconds on every one of their many, many calls. Isobel had a cap of dark hair and darker eyes, both her expression and demeanor screaming, I know I’m a woman in a man’s world, but hear me roar. “Watch that turn-”
“I’m watching.”
“Watch-”
“I’ll keep watching,” Brooke said evenly, each and every time, though by the afternoon, she didn’t feel so even. She missed Dustin. “Believe it or not, I’ve actually driven once or twice before.”
“You can never be too careful is all.” Isobel eyed the speedometer. “Watch-”
“Okay.” Brooke took a deep breath. “Still watching.”
“Sorry.” Isobel flashed a small, conciliatory smile. “I know I’m a pain. I’m just overly cautious.”
Nothing wrong with that. If only Brooke had watched over her own broken heart as cautiously…
Isobel was blessedly quiet until they turned on Third Street, heading toward their call, an outdoor beach café with a kitchen fire, where one of the cooks had passed out from the smoke and hit his head. A hundred yards ahead, the light turned red.
Isobel pointed. “Watch-” Then she caught herself, and cleared her throat. “Nothing.”
Brooke pulled up behind two fire trucks. They had the fire contained, but the flames were still impressive, leaping fifty feet into the sky. She and Isobel got out of their rig and immediately one of the firefighters came up to them. “The vic vanished on us. We’re still looking for him.”
Isobel went back to the radio to report the information. As Brooke took in the fire, she was shocked to see Blake there, standing just off to the side. He was supposed to still be recuperating in the hospital. She’d visited him the day before, and he’d been in no shape to be up. Worried, she moved to his side. “Blake?”
A low, raw sound escaped him and she took a closer look. He wasn’t in his gear. He couldn’t have been, not with the cast on his leg. His jeans were cut over the cast, and he wore a sweatshirt that looked odd, given it was at least eighty-five degrees outside. He leaned his weight on a crutch, but what caused Brooke concern was how pale he looked, and the fact that he was sweating profusely. “Blake?”
He didn’t respond. Eyes locked on the flames, face tight, he seemed miles away.
When she set her hand on his arm, he nearly leaped out of his skin. “Hey, just me.” She sent him a smile he didn’t return. “You all right?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t look it. You’re in pain.”
“Nah. I’ve got enough pain meds in me to change my name to Anna Nicole Smith.”
With a low laugh, she turned back to the rig and saw Isobel had located their vic. He was shaking his head, pushing her hands away before walking off. He didn’t seem to want treatment. “Looks like we don’t have a transport after all. Can we give you a ride?”
When Blake didn’t answer, she looked at him-he was limping away with shocking speed. Running after him, Brooke caught up just as he got as close as he could to the flames without igniting. “Blake, what are you doing?”
At the sound of her voice, he jerked. “Brooke?” He blinked, as if surprised to see her, as if he didn’t remember seeing her only two seconds ago.
“Okay, you know what? You’re not okay.” She put her hand on his arm. “Let’s go sit down.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I’m working. On you. Why are you out of the hospital?”
“I don’t know.” He closed his eyes. “I’m sorry. I just…I’m sorry. For everything.”
“Come on. Let’s get you back.” Away from the fire and the pain she suspected he was suffering. “We’re in the way here.”
He looked around and blanched. “God, I’m sorry.”
“For what, Blake?”
“I can’t…” He shoved his fingers through his hair and turned away from her, but not before she saw a suspicious sheen to his eyes. “I’m so damned sorry. I should have handled this better. I should have stopped it sooner.”
“Blake? Stopped what sooner?”
Staring at the flames, he appeared transfixed. “I don’t want to lose another partner. Or a friend.”
“What do you mean? Blake, done what sooner?”
“Lots of things, actually.” He walked off, but again she stopped him.
“I don’t think being alone is what you need, Blake.”