Chapter Four

Into the second night of Greg’s forty-eight hour shift, the klaxon bell at Station 58 woke him out of a damn good dream featuring Jenny in his arms as they kissed. The dream hadn’t gone as far as he wanted—after their date at Santos the other night, his fantasies had run to erotic as hell. He’d wanted to kiss her that night before she took off in her car, but he also didn’t want to take things too fast. Right now, though, he needed to get the lead out and stop wondering what it would be like if he ever made love to Jenny.

Once he’d suited up in his turnouts, and the rest of his crew took to the street in the ladder truck, he forgot the erotic dream. At least he did until Dane started teasing him.

“Hey Falk. Lexi told me you’ve got a thing for Jenny Hannigan,” Dane said with a smirk.

Surprised that Dane would bring it up in the middle of a fire run kept Greg silent for a moment. Finally, he said, “What if I do?”

Frank Hilton, another firefighter who’d joined the station recently, said. “My wife and I met her at a hospital charity function a month ago.”

“And?” Greg didn’t know where this was going.

“She’s super nice,” Frank said.

Dane smiled. “Lexi likes her. Maybe you should bring her to the firefighter’s picnic next week.”

Greg pulled a face. “I don’t know even know if I’m going.”

“You should man,” Dane said. “Stop being such a freaking hermit.”

Greg shrugged. “I’ll think about it.”

Dane adjusted the chin strap on his helmet. “You need to get outta the house for a change.” 

Greg didn’t know how extroverted he’d feel by next weekend. The party would feature food and music, and Skye’s cupcakes and other baked goods would be a part of the draw for Greg. Greg appreciated that the guys in the station kept tabs on him. It felt good they gave a damn, although Dane didn’t always understand how an introvert like Greg could’ve been a Marine and now a firefighter. Still, sometimes after a shift he didn’t want to mingle. He wanted to read or watch a movie and decompress.

They reached the house fire in short order, and his mind turned all business. Thankfully, the family who owned the home had escaped already. Flames shot up on the left side of the building, and Station 58 jumped into action to extinguish the growing conflagration. Some six minutes into battling the fire, Greg stood at the front of one hose with another firefighter behind him. Other firefighters manned a hose spraying water on the roof, which had started to smolder.

Suddenly this rather sedate acting fire decided to throw them a curveball.

A white flash blinded him, the heat searing, the noise throbbing in his ears as a concussion sent him and the other firefighters backwards. Greg left his feet, the force of the blast sending him sailing as he lost his grip on the hose. He landed with a thud on his back and ice cold water from the hose drenched him. The high pressure hose bucked and kicked, threatening to hit him. His vision grayed at the corners, and he couldn’t seem to move. He tried to struggle into a sitting position but nothing worked. He heard someone calling his name, the tone loud and urgent, but he couldn’t respond. Again, his name being called along with the shouts of other firefighting personnel. All went dark.

* *

Something rumbled under Greg, a swaying motion and murmured voices along with it. He opened his eyes with a snap and saw a male paramedic hovering over him and taking his blood pressure. His helmet was off, his turnout coat open. He tried to speak, but an oxygen mask blocked the attempt. He realized he was riding in a moving ambulance.

“Hey, you all right Falk?” Another paramedic named Morales spoke to Greg. “How do you feel?”

Greg lifted the mask off his face. “Like I just got blown up.”

Morales smiled. “Yep, you were. How do feel now? Any pain?”

“No. Did I break anything?”

“Not that we can tell. Hold still.”

The paramedic checked Greg’s pupils. “Equal and reactive. That’s really good.”

He knew Morales wouldn’t say it out loud, but his own EMT training told him the paramedic might be worried about head and internal injuries.

“Your vitals are really good considering. I think you’ll live.”

Greg threw him a smile. “Gee, thanks.”

“That was one hell of a blast, dude.” Morales patted him on the arm. “We were damned lucky it wasn’t worse.”

Greg’s voice felt scratchy. He was thankful he’d been wearing his SCBA, self-contained breathing apparatus when the blast occurred. “Everyone else…okay?”

“Another firefighter got knocked over but he’s okay. The one behind you. You guys got the full force of the blast.”

“Shit, how long have I been out?”

“Not long. You might have a concussion, so you need to be checked out.”

“Shit,” Greg said again. “I hate hospitals.”

He’d never been hurt on the job, not once. He’d never been wounded during the war.

“Don’t feel so bad.” The other paramedic who hadn’t said a thing finally spoke. “That was a big explosion.”

“Anyone know what caused it?” Greg asked.

“Meth lab…we think.”

Greg wanted to groan. He didn’t have a headache, and he wished he was back on the job instead of riding in this ambulance. If his fellow firefighters were still on the job, he wanted to knock down the fire with them, not wimp out.

Damn, damn, damn.

* *

Friday nights for Jenny were uneventful lately, but this one proved the exception. She was enjoying a book while lying on her couch listening to classical music. Her ankle throbbed a little, and she figured she’d overdone today at work.

Her land line phone rang around eight o’clock that evening. She almost didn’t answer, figuring Donna had thought of a reason why she should go into the office on a Saturday. Groaning, she grabbed the phone off the side table.

“Jenny?” the female voice asked.

“Yes.”

“It’s Lexi at Station 58.”

Jenny, feeling a little ornery said, “Do I know any other Lexi’s?”

Lexi laughed, then cleared her throat. “Smart ass. Look, I’m calling for Greg.”

Alarm hit Jenny square in the gut, her breath catching in her throat. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“Fifty-eight went on a house fire tonight and a meth lab inside exploded. It knocked almost all of the firefighters over, including Dane. Greg was knocked out, but he’s conscious now and we think he’s okay. He’s getting checked over here at Dallas right now.”

Jenny’s throat tightened more. “Oh my, God.”

“Dane just came in and we’re waiting to find out more about Greg’s condition. When they wheeled Greg into emergency, he asked if we would call you.”              

“I’ll be right there."

Dressed only in her lying-around-the-house sweats, and her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, Jenny drove to Dallas Emergency. She didn’t speed, but urgency threatened to unravel her. The thought of Greg hurt hit her square in the gut. A thin edge of panic threatened. She couldn’t ignore that her fear was out of proportion. After all, she’d only met Greg this week. She’d dated a rodeo bull rider for a short time at the beginning of the year—a very short time—and he’d broken two ribs the first time she’d gone to a rodeo to see him ride. She’d been dating him a couple of weeks when that happened, and the concern she’d had at the time didn’t approach the stomach-churning worry she experienced now. Granted, the rodeo dude relationship had been fostered by his mother, a nurse at Dallas who wanted to fix up her son and get him married off and settled down. She didn’t think even rodeo dude wanted to date her in the first place.

Greg. Well, he meant a hell of a lot more.

Oh, man. You’ve got it bad, girl.

A gratifying thought came hot on the heels of this sobering knowledge.

He asked for me.

Why? He had his firefighter friends there, and she understood the tight knit community would do anything for each other. He’d only met her on Independence Day. He hadn’t mentioned other family when they’d had dinner the other night. She pushed the rest of the thought away and concentrated on her driving. She made it to Dallas in reasonable time. It took forever to find a parking space. Everyone in the universe seemed to be at the hospital tonight.

Lexi and Dane sat in the waiting room, Dane still dressed in his turnout gear. His dark hair was mussed this way and that, and he looked concerned as hell. Lexi patted his back. Jenny’s stomach dropped.

Oh, no. Has Greg’s condition changed?

Lexi saw Jenny and waved her over with a smile. Relief edged away the fear. Would Lexi be smiling if Greg’s condition had deteriorated? She made her way through the crowd. Several harried adults, sullen-looking teens, and fussy toddlers dominated the waiting room. Lexi was off work, so she looked comfortable in jean shorts and a t-shirt.

“Hey,” Jenny said as she sat down next to Lexi. “Any word?”

“No.” Dane ran one hand through his hair. “But tests can take a long time. He’s probably getting x-rayed and scanned out the wazoo.”

“Did he seem really hurt?” Jenny asked.

Lexi patted Jenny’s shoulder. “Not at all. The paramedics who brought him in said his vitals were excellent and he was joking with them. Not too many people crack jokes if they’re seriously hurt. Believe me. You can relax a little.”

Jenny nodded, not sure what she wanted to say or how to say it. She still felt stunned.              Jenny fiddled with her cross body bag, worrying the leather on the strap. “What happened? How did Greg get hurt?”

Dane’s expression turned grim. “Meth head lived in this house with his wife and little kids. What kind of—” He looked around and lowered his voice. “What kind of asshole does that?”

“A big asshole,” Jenny said.

Dane’s face darkened more, and Jenny had no doubt if Dane could have he would’ve knocked the meth producer’s teeth out.

“The least the guy could’ve done is told us he had a meth lab in there. We would’ve kept everyone back farther. We’re fortunate none of the guys were in the house when it blew up. Greg was working the hose…first in line when the place exploded.” Dane almost growled the last words.

They sat around for quite some time nursing their concern. Dane fielded texts from the meth house fire. Captain Earl Stewart, boss of Station 58, checked on Greg’s condition. Eventually a nurse came out, and Lexi, Dane and Jenny popped up like jackrabbits. This nurse, though, wasn’t a person Jenny wanted to see. It was James Herald, Donna’s ex-husband. James’s balding head looked shiny under the harsh lighting, his blue eyes cool and his expression only mildly pleasant.

James nodded and smiled at Jenny in particular but didn’t mince words. “Greg’s back in his cubicle. He’s going to be okay. No broken bones, a very mild concussion. We’re keeping him in here overnight because of the concussion. You can come back and see him now if you like.”

James led them to the cubicle where Greg lay propped up and left them alone.

As soon as Greg saw the three of them, he beamed. “Hey.”

Jenny’s stomach did a flip and flop when she saw him wearing a hospital dressing gown with blankets over his legs. His dark hair was a mess, but he had good color and looked healthy. Relief descended on her. Jenny went to his right side while Dane and Lexi took the other side.

“Hey there, tough guy.” Jenny pressed his forearm gently. “You okay?”

“He’s gotta be. He has one of the hardest heads in the department.” Dane threw him a crooked smile. “Stubborn as hell.”

Greg returned his friend’s grin. “Okay, I’ll admit that. The stubborn part.”

Lexi rolled her eyes. “What Dane means to say is that he’s glad you’re okay.”

Greg winced. “Probably going to be sore as hell tomorrow, but no big deal. I think they could let me out of here right now.”

Jenny shook her head. “Wait a minute, don’t you even think about leaving. Remember what you said to me the other day? Doctor’s orders?”

Greg laced his hands behind his head. “Touche. Yeah, we gotta stop meeting like this Jenny. We’re in this hospital too damned much.”

“Now that we know he’s okay, Dane, let’s get back to Captain Stewart. He’s worried sick,” Lexi said. “And so are the other guys at fifty-eight.”

After Dane and Lexi left, Jenny wondered if she should take off, too. Something kept her from moving.

“How do you feel? Headache?”

“Nah. I’m sore all over, but I figure that’ll fade pretty fast. Nothing worse than some stuff that happened to me in the military.”

She nodded, a little more relief finding its way inside her. “Good. I mean, that it’s not that bad.”

Greg tilted his head to the side. “They’ll be moving me to a room soon.” He reached for her hand and held it gently. “Thank you for coming.”

She wanted to ask him why he’d asked for her, but the question stuck in her throat.  “Of course. When I heard you’d been…” She drew in a deep breath.

“Hey,” he said softly. “This isn’t going to scare you off, I hope.”

“Scare me off?”

His eyes held worry. “This is where a lot of women run away screaming. When they realize the reality of a firefighter’s job.”

She drew in another breath, this one to steady her heart. His fingers moved over hers, and that gentle caress started a wild reaction. The last thing she wanted to do, right now, was to escape his company.

“No, this doesn’t scare me off.”

He released her hand, and she almost grabbed his back. “I was afraid having Lexi or Dane call you would scare you off, too. We just met and…”

When he drifted off, she supplied the words. “I was going to ask why you called me.”

His eyes were serious now, without a hint of teasing. “I couldn’t think of anyone I’d rather have by my side. You do that to me, Jenny. I know we just met this week, but I feel a connection. Something real. When I woke up in that ambulance, after being glad I was alive, I thought of how important it was to tell people how you feel. I should’ve learned that lesson when my Dad died, but I guess getting it through my hard head takes a little time.”

Surprised he’d revealed this much, she didn’t say a word at first. She hadn’t dated a man this forthright in her whole life. She didn’t think she’d ever met anyone quite like Greg.

When his fingers caressed hers again, she tightened her grip a little. A sweet shiver went through her body, and she wondered if he knew how he affected her, how crazy he made her. Could he feel how her entire body reacted? If he could, what did he think?

“Well, you know. Firemen are supposed to be perfect right? Those calendars we talked about…babies and puppies, and don’t forget the naked torsos,” she said with a grin, trying to lighten her mood and maybe his. “I’ll do you a favor. Since it’s Saturday, I’ll pick you up when they release you from the hospital. Your car is still at the station I’m assuming?”

“Yep. You could take me to the station so I can get my car.”

She held up her hand for a high five, and he returned it. “Deal.”

“I’m hoping they’ll spring me in the morning. My guess is Captain Stewart will tell me to take a few days sick leave depending on what the doc says tomorrow. I’ll call you as soon as I know tomorrow.” His eyes narrowed. “Are you sure you’re available for that? I mean…if you’ve got plans…”

“No plans. Okay, I did have plans, but it was to sit around all weekend with my crutches and a good book.”

To her surprise, he captured her hand and brought the back to his mouth for a quick, gentle kiss. “I won’t feel so guilty, then.”

He released her hand. A heady reaction snaked through her. Her nipples hardened and a new, interesting ache started between her legs. Even lying vulnerable in a hospital bed the damned man took sexy to a new level. Rumpled looked good on him. She wanted to slide her fingers over his forearm and test out the muscles there. He looked so damned delicious she wanted to cuddle him, kiss him and who knew what else she wanted to do. Wild tingles raced over her skin, and her body reacted fiercely. Her breath quickened, and she was so damned tempted to lean over and kiss him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” she said.

“Look forward to it.”

The nurse opened the curtain again, and Jenny jumped in surprise. The nurse smiled at them, and Jenny left before she could say anything mushy. Because she wanted to say something that expressed how grateful she was he’d made it through that fire. Yet she couldn’t say it, because the words wouldn’t form. Caution made her quiet, and she left the hospital feeling as if she’d failed to be honest.

She drove home a little flummoxed. Her happiness that Greg had survived the explosion relatively unscathed remained, but if she was honest, she knew why she hadn’t expressed her honest feelings. Years ago she’d become so used to bottling up those treacherous emotions, the ones that could wreck her chances for a job, for making a good grade, for taking a risk. She’d done that once and had lost so much she didn’t want to chance it again.

A text popped up on her phone, but she didn’t look at it while driving. When she reached her house that night, there was a car parked across the street with a woman sitting in it. Jenny pulled into the driveway and glanced back at the woman, but she seemed to be concentrating on her phone, texting rapidly. Jenny went inside her house and checked the text. It was from Manny, who asked how she was doing. She didn’t know he even had her number and wondered how he’d gotten it. Then she remembered that Donna had insisted anyone working on the booth for the fourth could make contact with each other and they’d all exchanged phone numbers.

Still surprised he’d sent the text, she didn’t answer it right away. Instead she poured a glass of water and sipped. She returned Manny’s text, saying her ankle was fine and that she was good. She also asked how he was, and he returned with a text saying that he was good, and they signed off with smiley faces. After that she yawned so hard her jaw cracked. Time for bed. As she slid on her sleep shirt, she wondered if she’d be able to think considering what had happened tonight. Would her mind run her around in circles overthinking her decision not to gush all over Greg and tell him how worried she’d been when she’d heard he was in the hospital?

God, Jenny. Grow up. Go to sleep and forget about it. You always did overthink everything.

“Now I’m sounding just like my mother.”

Yeah, her Mom. She didn’t want to admit it, but those words sounded so much like her mother. After another wide yawn, Jenny recognized she didn’t have enough brain power left to think about it. Before she went to bed, she looked out the front window one more time to see if the texting woman still sat across the street. The woman had left.