Put Out (Kilgore Fire Book 5) Page 4

  Likely that wouldn’t be happening, though.

  That wasn’t how our luck was running today.

  Flipping on the sirens to the ambulance, Tai lit us up and I pulled out only seconds after we got back in.

  “Might want to avoid the next street,” Tai said. “They were fucking with the lights when I went past them this morning.”

  “I saw,” I grunted. “That’s what made me late to work.”

  “Oh yeah,” Tai offered me a smile. “I forgot that you’re in a different house now.”

  I was in a different house.

  In fact, I was now in a different house than I was in the week before.

  “That house is done now,” I told him. “I bought it to flip, but it was at an auction and I never got a good look at the inside. Was fucking finished to perfection, and I didn’t have to touch it at all before I listed it for twice that.”

  “Score,” Tai grinned. “You’re so fucking lucky when it comes to that. Have you had any offers on it?”

  I nodded my head. “Cash for all of my asking price.”

  Tai’s eyebrows rose. “That’s pretty damn impressive. Haven’t you sold the last four like that?”

  I nodded my head. “Yeah, but that’s the new norm. Older couples scrimp and save for their whole lives, and then pay it all outright once they have it. “

  “I should’ve done that with my house. Paying the mortgage is a bitch every month,” Tai grinned. “Maybe I should get into flipping houses on our days off like you’ve been doing.”

  I was nodding my head before he’d even finished, regardless of whether he was only teasing or not.

  “That’s what I did with PD. Then took off on my own,” I grinned. “But working on your days off requires you to give up time with your wife and kid.”

  Tai laughed.

  “The baby is in daycare now, and Mia usually works at least two of my days off. Sucks balls, but it is what it is,” he shrugged.

  I saw past his nonchalant attitude, and I could tell that it bothered him that he had to work as much as he did, and that she didn’t have off the same days as him.

  At least he has someone, I thought. I don’t have anyone and I’ve tried!

  “So how’s it working out with that girl, Sierra, you met in the grocery store?” he changed the subject, not aware of what happened.

  Then again, no one was aware but me, and probably Sierra. Although she wasn’t acting like she knew.

  Apparently, ignoring her wasn’t going to be enough of a hint.

  I’d likely have to tell her forcefully that we weren’t going to be anything anymore. Maybe I should’ve recorded her moans and cries for her ‘Brody’ while she fucked him? That likely would’ve been enough of a deterrent.

  “Yo,” Tai said. “Isn’t that…” he snapped his fingers. “Oh, what’s her name? The girl that used to work for PD’s woman.”

  I looked up as I pulled on scene, and my heart immediately started to beat quickly in my chest.

  “Yeah,” I swallowed thickly. “That’s Angie.”

  Tai clapped his hands together. “That’s it!”

  “She looks pissed,” I observed as I stopped next to the first car.

  Tai got out, and I followed, walking to the scene that was about ten yards from the ambulance.

  “Angie?” I called out.

  Angie, not looking just pissed, but rather livid, turned her gaze to me.

  “Hey,” she ground out before turning her gaze back to the woman that was sitting on the curb.

  “Were you one of the ones in the accident?” I asked her, concern starting to leech into my voice.

  She nodded her head. “Yes.”

  “Can you tell me what happened?” I asked.

  She pointed at the woman that was sitting on the curb.

  “I passed her because she was going twenty in a fifty,” she gritted her teeth. “And once I passed her I saw that she was on her phone. Reading a fucking book.” She shook her head. “I get in front of her, and I’m driving for about a minute and a half before she rear-ends me when I stop for an eighteen-wheeler that pulled into the roadway.”

  The woman was glaring at Angie and I knew for certain it was true.

  “Are you okay?”

  She licked her lips and nodded.

  Then her pupils dilated, and I could tell that she was lying.

  You couldn’t hide pain like that. Especially not to a trained paramedic.

  “Come sit down,” I held out my hand.

  She took it, her lovely face kicking into a small smile as she did.

  “You’re bossy,” she grimaced. “I kind of like that.”

  A grin tugged at the corner of my lips as I led her to the ambulance.

  “Take a seat,” I gestured to the cot inside the medic. “Anything hurt in particular?”

  She shook her head, but quickly lessened her gesture by rubbing at her sternum.

  “Seatbelt get you?” I asked.

  She swallowed, then nodded her head.

  “Yeah,” she cleared her throat. “Got me good, I think.”

  “Why don’t you take the shirt off so I don’t have to cut it off,” I tried really hard to sound professional.

  However, the moment the words came out of my mouth, I didn’t miss the way her body shifted, and not in discomfort this time.

  “Ummm,” she looked out the ambulance doors to where they were wide open for all to see, and then shook her head. “I’ll pass.”

  I snorted and climbed inside, drawing the doors closed behind us.

  “Better?” I asked.

  “Uhhh,” she pursed her lips. “Yeah.”

  Then she took her shirt off, leaving me speechless.

  Chapter 5

  I put out.

  -Firefighter t-shirt

  Angie

  I slammed into the door of my house two hours later, so far away from a good mood that it was almost comical.

  Almost.

  I huffed a laugh and walked into my bedroom, drawing my shirt off over my head and chucking it on the floor in the corner of the room.

  Starting to pace, I lifted my hands up and ran my fingers through my hair, halting my forward progress to work out a knot when my fingers became tangled.

  “That wasn’t very nice,” my brother said as he followed me into the room and flopped down on my bed.

  “I’m naked,” I snapped at him.

  “You’re wearing a sports bra and jeans. You’re wearing more right now than when you go to the beach every summer.” He rolled over and sighed. “Will you let me stay over here and sleep for a couple hours? Maybe tell Mandy that you need my help for something?”

  The pleading in his voice made me want to grin.

  I didn’t dare.

  Then he’d think I’d agreed to his stupid plan.

  “Mandy is at home with your three-month-old twins,” I told my rotten brother. “She deserves to have you home helping instead of taking a nap at my place.”

  He growled.

  “You knew what you were getting when you decided to have a baby,” I poked him with a finger, and he grunted.

  Pushing him over with my fist, I ripped my shirt out from underneath his body and shrugged it on.

  “Why do you persist in wearing that ugly shirt?” he asked, squinting one eye open to look at me.

  I slipped the shirt on over my sports bra—that did in fact cover half of my body since the damn thing had to be industrial strength due to the bounciness of my boobs—and dropped down onto the bed beside him.

  “He looked at me like I was a freak.”

  “You are a freak,” he countered.

  I dropped my elbow into his back and grinded down.

  “Owww!” he yelled. “Fuck! Stop!”

  I grinned and let up on him.

  My brother didn’t fight back and he never would.

  He was about twice our size and could easily hurt us if he wasn’t careful— something that he’d learned the hard way
when he’d pushed me off of him, and I went flying into a table and had broken a rib. He hasn’t tried to retaliate against our attacks since.

  “He saw it all when he came to the shop,” I said. “But I don’t think his eyes ever made it past my boobs.”

  “Yeah, hard to miss those puppies,” he shot back sarcastically.

  I smacked his head.

  He laughed.

  “Fuck, I don’t want to go home,” he groaned into the pillow. “Your bed’s so much nicer than mine, too.”

  “That’s because it doesn’t have baby throw up on it,” I teased.

  He groaned and pushed himself up.

  “Let me know if you need anything,” he sighed. “I’m going home to baby hell.”

  I snickered as he walked out of my house, but the smile quickly died from my face as I remembered the look on Bowe’s face when he saw my scars.

  There weren’t a lot of them, per se, but the ones that were there were quite ugly.

  That’s what happens when you’re shot by a fucking nail gun and they had to do an exploratory surgery to find all the nails.

  Shivering at where my thoughts were leading, I got up from where I’d sat on the bed and headed in the direction of my computer.

  Apparently, I needed to look for a new car.

  ***

  The next day dawned bright and early.

  Knowing I would be walking to work today, I got dressed in my running clothes, stuffing my scrubs and a change of panties into my bag along with my lunch. Elise was at my brother’s house since I had to leave so early this morning, and I couldn’t help a pang of sadness that I wouldn’t get to see her.

  I was making pretty good time, set to arrive at the hospital in eleven minutes if I kept the same pace I was setting when I heard a loud, angry horn blast behind me, causing me to jump a foot and shriek.

  I gasped and placed my hand over my heart, turning to find Bowe leaning his entire body out of the open window of the fire truck while laughing his ass off.

  “Dammit! I’m so sorry!” he yelled through the open window of the fire truck. “I was cleaning the steering wheel, I swear.”

  Rolling my eyes, I started to move again without replying, instead focusing on the sidewalk in front of me instead of the man that was staring at me like I was fucked up.

  I hated when men looked at me like that. Not that I really had many look at me like that. I have been too busy to date lately.

  Inevitably they’d always ask why I had those scars, even if they just saw me working out at the gym and then that would lead to telling them about my psychotic ex-boyfriend who thought it’d be better to kill me rather than let me see someone else.

  Then I’d have to tell them that I really was all right, and that I wasn’t a fucked-up mess like some people would be, had they been in my situation.

  No. It was better to stay away from men, which was what I did.

  My resting bitch face took care of most of them, and when that didn’t cut it, I let them feel the edge of my tongue.

  “Hey, do you need a ride?” Bowe asked from almost directly behind me.

  I froze and turned, staring at the man who, not even seven hours ago, had seen the scars on my belly and immediately shut down any and all communication between us.

  His eyes had kept drifting down to my belly, and yeah, I realized they were nasty and didn’t do it for most men, but they were a part of me. I literally couldn’t help what my body looked like.

  Sure, I could control my weight better, but that would require actual effort on my part, and I wasn’t really up for the challenge.

  “Nope, I’m almost there,” I said. “Another mile and a half.”

  He chuckled. “It’s raining.”

  “It is not,” I countered, then immediately felt the first rain drop.

  Gritting my teeth, I started to walk faster.

  The faster I walked, the faster it rained down on my head.

  “Shit!” I growled in frustration. “Doesn’t this just figure?”

  “Doesn’t what just figure?” Bowe asked, this time from his big fancy, truck.

  I glared at the beautiful beast—the truck and not Bowe—before retuning my eyes to him.

  “Doesn’t it figure that the one time I decide to try to make it to work without calling my brother like he told me to do, it freakin’ rains. Do you know how much hell I’m going to catch for this?” I asked him.

  He gestured to his truck. “Get in.”

  I sighed and hurried around the front of his truck, then opened the door and stared up at the thing with curiosity. “How do I get in?”

  He grinned, then pointed to the handle. “Grab hold there, and then lift your leg and jump inside.”

  I did as instructed, and landed half on the seat.

  Scooting fully into the seat, and choosing not to notice how the seat’s cushion was blowing cool air up my ass, I turned to face the front.

  “Thank you,” I said. “I appreciate it.”

  “I have to go see Grams anyway,” he brushed off the thanks. “It’s about two minutes from the hospital. Won’t even notice the extra minute it’ll take to drop you off.”

  I smiled and stared down at my hands.

  “Yesterday…” he hesitated.

  I waved my hand in the air.

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “No,” he stopped. “It…you make me…I swear I feel things when I’m around you that are completely irrational. A paramedic should be able to put those feelings on hold, but I can’t. Something about you makes my heart beat faster.”

  I turned to face him fully, and my eyes widened when his eyes were on me instead of the road.

  “Are you trying to kill us?” I asked him, pointing to the road.

  He turned back, shrugging. “No. But I wanted you to understand that I was serious. That required eye contact.”

  “You’re a nice man, Bowe,” I started.

  He laughed.

  “You know how many times I’ve heard that before?” he questioned me.

  I shook my head. “No. But it’s no less true when I say it. I really think you’re nice.”

  “But…” He waited for me to finish what I had to say, and he was right to have that skeptical look on his face.

  “But I can’t have feelings like that for you.”

  “Why not?” he challenged.

  “Because you’re a firefighter.”

  His brows lifted. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “You’re a hero. A public service official,” I pointed out.

  “Yes,” he agreed slowly. “And?”

  “And you’re busy. I’m busy. We don’t have enough time to do anything more than say a cursory ‘hi’ when we pass doing whatever the hell we’re doing at that moment in time,” I expounded.

  He snorted.

  “How about you tell me what is really keeping you behind those high walls, and I’ll tell you that I’m the exact opposite of what you think I am,” he tried.

  I shrugged.

  “I’m busy.”

  “You’re not busy,” he countered.

  I smiled at him as he pulled into the hospital turn around that was used for patients to get in and out of their cars.

  “You can say that all you want,” I pushed open the door, “But that doesn’t change the fact that I am.”

  With that I closed the door to the truck, nodded at him, and walked into the hospital without looking back.

  Well, sort of.

  The only reason I didn’t look back was because there was a large wall of mirrors directly in front of me, giving me a great view of the man watching me watch him.

  And what I saw in his eyes, the promise in them, wasn’t something I thought I could fight.

  Chapter 6

  Not every man can be bearded. Some need to stand on the sidelines and clap as we pass by.

  -A Bearded Man’s secret thoughts

  Bowe

  “Whoa,” Booth said
the moment he saw me. “What happened to you?”

  I paused only long enough to wave at him, then walked out of the bay, into the open floor plan room of the firehouse, and directly down the hallway that led to the bunks.

  My room was the first on the right, and I didn’t waste time ducking into the room and shutting the door.

  The moment I was within reach of the bed, I fell face forward, collapsing onto the bed and closing my eyes as my bones started to settle once again.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Booth asked, following me.

  I turned my head only far enough so he could see my glare.

  Obviously, though, the glare didn’t have the intended affect when he continued to walk into the room, parking his ass in the bunk straight across from mine.

  Sure, the bunk was his, and I wasn’t the only one who shared this room, but I wasn’t up for any chatter. Especially after the night I’d had.

  “You gonna make me guess?” he continued as if I weren’t ignoring him.

  “You’re a persistent bastard,” I grumbled, turning my head to face the wall.

  “Come on, you know you want to talk to your best friend, Booth,” he teased.

  I tossed the man a look.

  “You’re not my best friend,” I told him.

  He pouted and I sighed, rolling until I was on my back, very carefully since it seemed the bed was about the same width as my back.

  “I’ve completely and utterly failed in getting the woman I want to go out with me to even hold a conversation with me for longer than a minute,” I told him. “I saw her last night—with another man—and I don’t know what to do to get her to see me.”

  Booth’s mouth fell open.

  “You’re shitting me.”

  I shook my head, feeling heat hit my face as I did.

  “No.”

  “But…you’re the dream boat. You’re the man that Masen tells me all the time is the hottest guy at the firehouse. You literally could have anyone that you wanted. What’s the deal?” He kicked his feet up so they were resting on the side of my bed.

  “Nothing to tell. I’m just…awkward.”

  “Awkward, how?” he persisted. “Awkward, as in you can’t talk to a woman awkward, or awkward in which you accidentally whip your dick out of your pants to break the ice instead of using your big boy words?”