~ One ~
She’d set Christmas on fire. It’s not that bad. It’s just a few flames. Ellie Wexly continued to tell herself that as she sprayed the white foam directly at her gas burner. The non-stop buzz of the smoke alarm hurt her ears, but until the fire was doused, she couldn’t leave it. With a few more loud sprays from the red canister—which had come with the basement suite, thankfully—Ellie backed up out of the kitchen. She set the fire extinguisher on the floor and went to the smoke detector.
Fanning it with her pointless apron—she’d managed to stain the clothes beneath despite the layer of protection—she groaned loudly when a knock came at the door.
“Ellie! Help is on the way. Can you hear me girl?” The door jiggled and she could just picture Mr. Coby in his bathrobe, his hair everywhere, wondering if he was going to have to break down the door. Or worse, trying.
Unable to shut the stupid alarm off, she glanced at the door, then decided it was more important to stop the sound than unlock the door. She grabbed a dining chair, pulled it over to the alarm and climbed up. Her fingers barely brushed the round detector so she went up on tip toes and tried to unscrew it. Apparently it wasn’t a twist off.
“Ellie! I’ll go get my key.”
Oh lord. Why the heck had she thought she could cook herself a nice little Christmas treat when she couldn’t even manage a microwave most days? Just because she was good with instructions didn’t mean following a recipe would turn her into Gordon Ramsey.
“I’m fine!” She hollered but doubted he heard her. Stupid, stupid smoke detector. Pressing the little button in the center, she said a whole bunch of words she shouldn’t have. Tugging on the cover, she pulled with all her might, which just wasn’t enough. Twist and tug. She smirked and tried it.
The cover came off, but she lost her balance at the same time, tipping the chair as the door crashed in. As her head hit the edge of the coffee table right before her body thudded against the carpeted floor, she realized the stupid beeping had finally stopped.
Her stomach pitched, she blinked rapidly and then her vision was filled with triplets. Hot triplets. Nope. That’d be three firemen. Same outfit and her head hurt, so she gave herself a break on thinking three hot brothers had just suddenly shown up in her living room.
One of the men kneeled beside her as the other two disappeared. “Can you hear me, Ellie?”
Despite the pounding in her head, yes she could. She definitely could. Ellie smiled, trying to sit up. Mr. Corby came to her side. She winced when she turned her head to tell him she was alright.
“How about you just stay still while I make sure you’re okay,” the fireman said, his large, warm hands pressing gently against her shoulders.
“Fire is out. Gas fire on the stove. She alright?” A faceless voice asked. She didn’t try to see where it had come from since her head was spinning.
“Not sure yet. She’s got a goofy grin on her face and a gash on her head. Grab me the first aid kit.”
Hey. My grin isn’t goofy. A memory tugged in her brain, tickling her thoughts by dipping in and out. She looked at the fireman and wondered why he looked so familiar.
“You okay Ellie girl?” Mr. Corby yelled in her ear.
Moving just her eyes, she looked at him. “I’m…fine.” Her throat was drier than overcooked toast.
She winced when cool liquid touched her head. “Ow.”
When her eyes roamed back to the fireman, he was staring at her, amusement crinkling the corner of his green eyes. What shade of green was that? A cross between emerald and forest maybe. It was a really bad time to be worrying about how her hair looked, but she couldn’t be responsible for her brain’s odd wanderings at the moment.
She tried again to sit up. Mr. Corby moved down to her feet, bent at the waist and put his hands on his knees. He was, indeed, wearing his robe and his hair reminded her of one of those shaggy dogs whose eyes couldn’t be found.
“What were you doing, Ellie?”
“Sir, can you move back a little? She’s okay, but I’d like to take her to the hospital and get her checked,” green-eyed-sexy-guy said. Belatedly, she realized what he said.
“No. I don’t want to go to the hospital. I’m okay,” she croaked.
As if her life was a well-timed farce, the paramedics walked into her small living room. Ellie groaned. “I’m fine.”
The other firemen had disappeared again and Mr. Corby had given her some space. The paramedics were pushing their way in, talking to fire guy like they knew him.
“What do we have?”
“Possible concussion. Give me a sec?”
The fireman leaned close enough she could smell the subtle scent of his spicy cologne over the hint of smoke on his gear.
“You’re going to the hospital, Ellie. If I have to take you there myself,” he said, his voice low and husky and making her stomach dip more than the bump on the head had.
She stared at him, ready to…say something to explain that she’d do what she pleased when it hit her. She knew him. And he knew her.
“You’re not the boss of me,” she said. Mortification swamped her like she’d tossed herself head first in a lake.
The deep, husky chuckle did nothing to cool her skin. Nor did the gentle brush of his knuckles against her cheek. “You haven’t changed one bit, Ellie. And there’s no way I’m risking an ass kicking from your brother if anything happens to you. So be a good girl and let these guys check you out. I’ll meet you at the hospital.”
“You going to let us in there, Cooper or what?” One of the paramedics wedged herself in between Ellie and the fireman, starting her own assessment.
Cooper faded from her vision and Ellie closed her eyes and bit her lip. There was no way she’d embarrass herself more by yelling after him and telling him that she had so changed. And a lot more than a bit.