by Delisa Lynn
This is the stuff you think about after you’ve been up for over thirty-four hours and worked all fucking night. Today starts my four-day-off rotation, so I decide to shower here at the firehouse before I swing by Paula’s and grab a drink on the way home. I’m meeting my brother-in-law and some other friends for drinks tonight, but I need one now. I don’t hang out with them much; I tend to shut them out unless my sister is making me food.
I was never like this before. I was a family man, loved family gatherings, holidays, and game nights. My mom and sister have begged me to see a shrink, but how will that help? I’d sit in a room and tell some stranger—who I’m over-paying—my problems. I can sit and tell my dog, and he’ll listen for free, as long as I feed his ass.
I can’t lie and say I haven’t thought about it, though. The thought has crossed my mind… once.
I can’t believe I’m still thinking about him. It’s been two years since I moved to Ohio, but my mind wanders back to the day that changed my life.
“What do you mean, he doesn’t remember me? We’re engaged and have known each other all our lives.” This cannot be happening. We were getting married in three months, having put the wedding on hold so Lucas could get his bachelor’s degree. Now he has it, and everything is ready for us to have our big day. The big day I’ve waited for. “Are you sure it’s not from the coma?” I ask the doctor.
Fidgeting with a pager in his pocket, he cautiously responds, “I’m so sorry, Rosealy, but there’s no sure reason. Talk to him, make him remember.” He walks out of the room, leaving me alone with a man who claims he doesn’t know me, let alone wants to marry me. What the hell am I suppose to do with our wedding now?
“Hello, are you even listening to me?” I see my coworker and best friend snapping her fingers. She’s begging me to head out for a night on the town. She does this every week—or should I say every few days.
“Shit, sorry, London. I’m tired is all. I just worked seventeen hours straight. I need a hot bath and a bottle of Jack,” I say.
“Come on, Roe, it’ll be fun. You need this, and so do I.” She snorts. “I know you could use a good roll in the sack with a hung stallion. You haven’t dated since you’ve been here. I think it’s time you let the pecker in your nightstand have a night off.”
“Where do you pop off with this shit?” I shake my head at her choice of words. She comes up with the weirdest sayings. “You’re a bitch, you know that, right?” I say, rolling my eyes at her. She’s right, though; I haven’t been with anyone since I moved here two years ago.
“We’re off tomorrow, come on. I’ll buy all your drinks. And I promise not to let you take home any ugly men…or women. Pinky promise.”
“You know, I can’t stand you sometimes, and you’re a pain in my ass.” I laugh as I swing my purse over my shoulder. “I really am tired, aren’t you? You’ve worked the same hours I have.” I dig around in my purse for my keys.
“Hell, I never sleep. I’m always ready to have a good time. I’ll call my friend Kathy and see if she wants to join us. Her husband is a cop, and he works crazier hours than we do,” she says, pulling her phone from her purse. “She works from home and doesn’t drink much, so she can drive us. That means we can get shit-faced.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad. I haven’t been that drunk in a while.” As I walk to my car, I wonder if I’m doing the right thing. London’s basically the only person I associate with here, other than Matt, another one of my co-workers turned best guy friend and my grandparents, who live a few hours from here on a farm. I could have moved out there, but I wanted to live in the city. Plus, I knew I could find a job much easier in Cleveland.
“She’s down! I’ll meet you at your place at eight. That’ll give you plenty of time to get ready!” London yells from her car.
“Yeah, yeah. I hear you.” I laugh. “I hope she does drive because I’m getting plastered.”
“She will. Like I said, she doesn’t drink much. See you soon.” She waves as she pulls away.
Starting my car, the radio comes on, the lyrics of “Because of You” by Kelly Clarkson blaring through the speakers. When the memories start flooding my mind, tears slip from my eyes.
“Please, tell me you remember me. We were together for so many years. We were planning our wedding.” I whimper as I watch his face—no remorse, no concern. “I have my dress, and we even booked our honeymoon. Everything was set to go. In two months, we were going to become husband and wife,” I whisper.
Lucas runs his hand down the back of his neck. “Sorry, Rosealy—” he spits my name out like it’s poison “—but I don’t remember that life. I have a new life now. I can see that you’re hurting, and I’m so sorry, so fucking sorry that I’m the one causing the pain.” He kisses my cheek. “I’m sure you can move forward. No need to pine over me. Go be happy with someone who wants to be with you.”
“Move forward? How? We’re engaged. We’re getting married. We live together!” I shout. “We just bought the condo, Lucas. You want me to just give up my life because you don’t remember right now? You did this. I begged you not to go. Now… Now my life is fucked because of you.”
“Calm down. You should go. I don’t think this is working. I have someplace I need to be.” He moves past me and slams the door. He doesn’t remember our life, the one we shared together. The love we shared.
I hear a horn behind me, bringing me back from my thoughts. I make a right, and the horn-blower goes straight. As I approach the stop sign, I stop as I’m supposed to. But I see the big black truck that’s now behind me isn’t slowing down. He must’ve not seen my brake lights. I try moving forward, but he plows straight into Coop, my Mini, sending it on a whirlwind. My head bounces back then forward before my airbags deploy, smashing right in my damn face. Once my car comes to a complete stop—on the sidewalk—I check to make sure it’s safe to exit. Pushing the airbag away from me, I open the door.
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.
Looking to see if the car behind me is okay, I see a tall, very handsome man with brown hair and the darkest eyes I’ve ever seen running toward me. My knees wobble a little and I grab the back of my car, trying to steady myself. I know it isn’t from the blood on my arm, as I see blood all day long.
It’s from the sight of the sexiest man I’ve ever laid my eyes on.
“Miss, are you okay? I swear, I thought you’d pulled forward,” he says, running his hand through his dark hair. He looks a little older than me, and even though I’m mad as hell, I can’t stop looking into his mesmerizing eyes. They’re so dark but sad, and yet lustful. His eyebrows are outta control—he could definitely use a wax—but they’re still sexy. “Please, tell me you’re okay.”
“You totaled my car!” I whisper-yell, and his expression switches from concern to apologetic. “As for me? I’m okay. Just a little dizzy.”
“I see that. I’ll pay for everything. I just want to make sure you’re fine. You look really pale, and there’s blood on your forehead. Could explain why you’re dizzy.” He touches the gash on my head, and my body burns from his touch.
“Let me look at it.” He pushes my hair away from my face; the smell of his cologne is clean, fresh and woodsy. Not at all as I imagined it would be. “Fuck, this cut is pretty deep. Let me call a tow truck and take you to the emergency room.”
Pushing his hands away from my face, I spit out, “Stop, I’m fine. I’m a paramedic. I think I would know if I needed ‘emergency’ help.”
“Well, Miss Paramedic, my name is Kole Harris, I’m a fireman and paramedic myself, and I do believe you need a few stitches, sweetheart.”
“So wait… You drive most of the day with your job, and you couldn’t see the frigging stop sign? Do you want to call the police, or should I? I’ve never been involved in an accident before, but I know that we need to call the cops, it’s protocol.”
He steps closer, and my nostrils are filled with his scent. “We don’t need to call it in. They’ll just
say they can’t do much since there aren’t any injuries. But I’ll call my brother-in-law. He’s an officer here in the Layton area. I’ll give him the info, and I’ll call a tow truck to pick your car up. Mine is okay, just a few scratches. So come on, we’re going to Cleveland Memorial.”
“Call the tow company and I’ll call for an Uber, or you can just drop me off at my house.” I’m so mad, and I really don’t want to be around him long enough for him to take me home. But damn, he’s hot as hell. I know London would be all over him if she were here.
“I have a buddy who owns Slate’s Towing. I’ll call him as soon as we get your head looked at. And nope, no car services. Where’s home?” he asks, and then I realize I’d have to tell him exactly where I live. What if he’s a crazy rapist? A serial killer?
He clears his throat, and I watch as his jaw ticks, waiting for my answer. When I don’t respond, he speaks slowly, as if I have a brain injury. “First, you’re getting medical treatment. Then, I’ll take you home. Me—not anyone else. So, what’s your address?” He places his hand on the small of my back, and chills run through my body, goose pimples appearing on my arms.
But no matter how fine he is, I don’t want this stranger knowing my address.
“My address?” I pause. This is a bad idea. He’s going to chop me into little pieces; then I’ll be a missing person. Oh, God… I shake my head. “It’s… Umm, never mind. Just call me an Uber. Please. I can assure you I don’t need a doctor.” I roll my eyes in frustration and suddenly feel a little dizzy. My legs buckle a little, and I latch onto his arm to steady my balance.
Okay, maybe I do need some sort of treatment. I did skip lunch today, so it could be that too.
This is un-fucking-believable.
“Jesus… Here, get in my truck. I’m not letting you get in the car with a stranger. I’m taking you myself, end of story. And I really think you should be seen for the cut.” He raises his hand, touching my face as he places his other hand in the small of my back. “Come on. I have some water in the truck. You need to drink some.”
Once more, I get chills from his touch. I push his hand away from me again, finding my voice to speak. “And you’re not a stranger?” I chuckle. “Fine, just take me to the frickin’ hospital. Then I’ll call a cab. I have places to be but, now that I have no car, looks like my plans have changed,” I say as I climb in his truck, which is basically the size of a damn monster truck. I’ve never understood why all men have to have these humongous vehicles. I loved Coop—well, that was until this asshat totaled him.
He was small, the perfect car for a woman of my stature.
“I’ll get your things from your car, and call my buddy,” he says, running over to my car. Before I can protest, I see him moving Coop out of the way of other drivers. Then he’s back with my purse and duffle bag. I always shower at work, as I hate wearing my work clothes home, so thank God, I’m clean and don’t smell like I did when my shift ended.
He hands me my belongings. “Thanks,” I squeak.
“So, is Paramedic your name?” He chuckles as he slides his seatbelt on.
“No, smart-ass. It isn’t. It’s Roe,” I huff, crossing my arms.
What a dick.
“Roe? I like that. What’s it short for?” He hands me a bottle of water. “Drink up. You need to stay hydrated.”
Jesus Christ, is this twenty goddamn questions?
“Rosealy.” I sigh. “But please don’t call me that. I like Roe, or Rose, better.” I hate that I’m attracted to him. His truck is huge, and clean, the complete opposite my car, water bottles, and clothes strewn all throughout. He has an air freshener attached to the vent, which smells like coconuts. It’s refreshing.
Squeezing the water bottle, I tip it upside down, making sure it hasn’t been tampered with. He may be hot, but he could still be a serial killer.
“Roe it is.” He smiles, and it does something to me I haven’t felt in years.
Why is he so goddamn sexy?
As we enter the emergency room, I feel a little silly knowing I’m not seriously injured and have no reason to be in the ER. I sign in and notice that Kole hasn’t left my side. He’s really tall and muscular. We take a seat near the triage unit, and I think back to the many patients I’ve brought through the door we just entered. Ones who actually needed emergency help.
As we sit next to one another, I watch as he twiddles his thumbs. The waiting area is full of folks who really need to be. There are even several geriatric patients with oxygen masks on.
“I’m really sorry about your car, sweetheart. I promise I’ll make it up to you.” He leans forward, placing his elbows on his knees, his head tilted toward me. “Your forehead looks awful, Roe. Shit, I’ve never been in a wreck, ever.”
“You have insurance, correct?” I question him, then pat his leg. “I’ll be fine. Stop worrying,” I say, for the twentieth time in the last thirty minutes.
“Of course, I do. I have really good insurance.” He stares at my forehead. “Man, that cut’s pretty deep. What the fuck is taking them so long?” He stands and walks back to the nurse working in the triage. I can hear him say a few curse words.
When he comes back, he sits next to me once again, and I grab his hand. “Look, I’m okay. I’ll need a few stitches, but that’s it. I’ll call a driver, and then you can go on. I’m sure you have a family to go home to. You don’t need to stay here with me.” I feel him tense at my words.
“Yeah… I’m staying right here so get that out of your pretty little head. No way in hell you’re calling a driver and climbing into a car with a stranger who could possibly hurt you. The nurse said you’re next. They had a code blue and needed all hands on deck.” He scratches his beard—it’s not too long, but long enough. His eyelashes are thick and dark, which makes his dark eyes pop even more.
“Fine, suit yourself. But as soon as they say I can go, I’ll be phoning my friend.” I cross my legs. “Oh, shit!” I exclaim, pain shooting through my right leg.
“Are you okay? What’s hurting?” Kole is on his knees in front of me, touching my arms, my legs—every part of my body he can.
“It’s my leg, where I practically stood on the brakes. I’m sure it’s fine,” I inform him.
“Shit, you’re gonna need an X-ray, I’m sure.”
“I think it’ll be okay. I hate to take up so much of your time. Just go, I’ll be fine,” I reassure him again, pulling my phone from my purse. “I’ll text my friend.”
“I’m not going anywhere until you’re treated, and then I’m taking you home. So you can tell your friend to meet you at home,” he growls.
A growl? Really?
“Fine, then sit here and waste your time.” I cross my arms over my chest then see the nurse staring at me. Walking over to us, she looks at a clipboard.
“Rosealy Taylor?” she questions.
“Yes, that’s me.” I practically jump from my seat. “Damnit!” I yell as my leg gives out and I fall into Kole’s strong arms.
“Come on, I got you.” Kole picks me up, bride style, and carries me through the emergency department. Everyone stares at us like we’re insane, as they can clearly see I’m not in need of emergency services.
“Well, I was going to offer a wheelchair, but I guess your very angry man has it covered. Come with me, we’ll get you all fixed up,” the nurse says as we walk down the hall and into a small room. Kole sets me on the bed and, although I’m injured, his touch has me thinking about him touching me in places no man has been in a few years. Two, to be exact. I haven’t even been kissed in over eight hundred days.
Yes, two years.
“She’s having pain in her right leg now. I think she needs it looked at also,” he informs the nurse. I watch as his Adam’s apple bobs when he speaks.
It’s very sexy.
“Since you were in a wreck, we’ll need to do a full workup. Did you file a police report?”
“Oh, that isn’t necessary. I’ll be okay. But this big lug sai
d he’d pay for all the damage he caused, including my injuries.” I slide up onto the pillow and feel the pain in my leg again. Shit, it does hurt.
“We want to make sure you’re fine, Miss Taylor. Now, please get undressed and put the gown on. The opening goes in the back. I’ll be back soon.”
“I’ll step outside the curtain while you change.” Kole smirks.
Ugh, this day couldn’t get worse. I have no car and the stranger who totaled it looks like sex on a fucking stick. I need a drink. I change quickly, sliding onto the bed and under the warm blanket the kind nurse laid out for me. Shit, did I shave my legs? I haven’t had any action since… well, my ex, of course. Looking under the blanket, my legs don’t look too bad, but I’ll make sure Kole doesn’t see them.
“You may come back in,” I say in a low tone. Kole walks in, and I know his smile is going to haunt me for the rest of my life. “Stop smiling,” I groan.
“Why? I want to make sure you’re fine, and they’ll take good care of you here.” His bottom slides onto the edge of the bed, and I don’t move, just look into his dark eyes. He places his large hand on my leg. “You need me to get you anything, sweetheart?”
“I’m good. Thanks, though.” I envelop myself in the blanket, probably resembling a burrito.
The same nurse opens the curtain wide. “Let’s get you down to testing, Miss Taylor.”
“I’ll wait right here for you, sweetheart,” Kole says, helping me from the bed. I keep the blanket wrapped tightly against my body.
I nod as they help me into a wheelchair. He can’t be a part of my life; he just can’t. All I can think about is him and his dark eyes. I want to know more about him. No, no I don’t. As sexy as he is, he’s more than likely trouble. He’s more than I can handle with what I’ve been through.