“There’s an ambulance on the way, right?”
“I think so.”
“They’ll take care of it.”
As if on cue, sirens filled the air.
She headed for the back of the van, leaving the guy standing there. Somewhere in her mind she knew she should be sitting because she probably had at least a mild head injury, but she had to check the cake.
The screaming sirens got louder and louder, then finally, thankfully stopped.
She opened the back door of the van, afraid at what she’d find. She’d worked hard on that cake, and the light-running asshole had hit the van hard enough the cake had to have been tossed sideways and splattered on the inside wall of the van. Or just toppled sideways in a sad heap. She hadn’t even got a picture of it yet. Usually she took one at the bakery and one at the venue after delivery, but she’d been in such a hurry, she’d forgotten the bakery picture. Maybe Kate was right. She should work on her time management.
But when she peeked around the door, she couldn’t believe her luck. Apparently the impact hadn’t been high speed enough to do serious damage to the cake. The bottom tier had slid partway off the base, and the top layer hung kind of askew, but she had her decorator’s toolkit with her, so she could fix it.
If she wasn’t stuck at the scene of an accident for God knew how long.
“Damn.”
She turned and hiked her butt up onto the inside edge of the van and dropped her head into her hands.
“Ma’am?”
A smooth male voice brought her head up, and her gaze met sparkling blue eyes in a gorgeous black guy’s face.
“Yeah?”
“My name’s Dante. I’m a paramedic. I’m here to help you.”
Chapter Two
Dante and his partner Jay arrived at the scene of the accident to find a gnarled mess of traffic in the middle of the intersection. The accident itself didn’t appear to be as bad as many he’d seen, thankfully. At least they wouldn’t be pulling dead bodies from mangled wreckage.
Jay hurried to the sedan that had run the light, and Dante went to the delivery van but when he checked inside the driver’s-side window, he found it empty. In fact, the whole front of the van was empty. Where the hell had the driver gone?
Since nobody’d been ejected through the windshield, he hurried around to check behind the vehicle.
He’d never arrived at the scene of an accident and been unable to find the victim.
Around the back, he finally found her—a skinny, little white woman sitting just inside the open doors, her feet propped on the bumper, her arms wrapped around her legs, and her face buried in her knees.
When she looked up at him, he about fell into her big brown eyes. Jesus, she was pretty. Her brunette hair had been bunched up in a hair tie, but half of it had come out and flew around her head like a halo.
But then he noticed the blood at her temple, his medic training kicked in.
“Hi. My name is Dante Winters. I’m a paramedic. I’m here to help you. Can you tell me where you’re feeling any pain?” he asked.
He set his medic case on the ground and pulled out a penlight to test her pupils.
“Just my head,” she said. “And it’s not bad.”
“Are you feeling any dizziness or nausea?”
“No. Just a little headache.”
“I’m going to check your pupils now,” he said, flicking the light across her eyes and watching her pupils shrink and dilate normally. Stepping back to observe her, he asked, “Can you tell me what happened?”
“I was heading for a delivery. The light turned green, I started through the intersection, and some asshole ran into me. Look, I really just want to go. I have to get to work.”
She winced a little with pain as she spoke, but otherwise, behaved normally with no slurred speech or other unusual symptoms that would indicate serious head injury.
“You’re going to need to get to the hospital to be checked out more thoroughly than I can do here,” he said.
She slid off the bumper and moved aside. On her feet, she was shorter than he’d thought. She couldn’t be more than five-two. In skinny-jeans, a gray Billy Joel t-shirt, and variety of jelly and vintage bracelets, she was both cute and petite.
Pointing inside the van, she said, “You see that cake?”
He shifted his gaze from her to the four-layer cake that sat on a square base in the van. It looked a little off kilter, but not bad for having been in an accident.
“Yeah.”
“There are two women getting married today who expect to have a cake to help celebrate their special day. I spent a lot of hours baking and decorating that cake, and they spent a lot of money on it, and I’m damn well going to deliver their cake to them.”
“Ma’am…”
“December.”
“I’m sorry?” Blurting December in the month of May gave him pause. Perhaps he should reconsider his concern for head injury.
“My name is December, and I’m 27. Stop calling me ma’am like I’m some old lady.”
She was clearly not an old lady, if his reaction to her was any measure. Unless he’d suddenly developed an attraction to older women. Which he hadn’t. This one intrigued him plenty.
“That’s an unusual name. Is your birthday in December?”
She rolled her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose.
“It is. My parents thought they were being cute, when actually they were being enormously unoriginal.” She looked up at him again. “Look, can you please just bandage my head and send me on my way?”
He put the penlight away and grabbed a clipboard with the required paperwork. Clicking his pen, he marked the box to indicate normal pupillary reaction, and several other head injury questions, then he pulled out the blood pressure cuff.
“I can’t do that,” he said. “It would be irresponsible, and I could lose my job. How many fingers am I holding up?”
He held up two, and she cocked her head then squinted one eye shut.
“Two. That means I can go, right?”
“No. Just be patient and let me do my job ma’am.”
“What did I tell you about ma’aming me? Just call me December.”
“All right, December, but will you let me check you for injury now?”
“I’m fine. I promise. I’ll probably be super sore tomorrow, but nothing’s broken, I know who I am and what year it is and even who the president is, even if I wish I didn’t. I just need a Bandaid and to be on my way.”
She reached up and pulled the scrunchy from her hair, and it fell to her shoulders in thick brunette waves that glinted in the sunlight. He wondered what it smelled like. Did she prefer floral or coconut shampoo?
But as she gathered it to put it back up, she staggered a step and had to reach for the van door to steady herself.
Dante shot a hand out to grab her shoulder. “How about you have a seat. I need to get a cervical collar for you. Stay put.”
“No. No collar. I’m fine, just a little dizziness.”
But she sat on the bumper of the van nonetheless.
“You could have a concussion, or something more serious. I need to get you to a hospital.”
If nothing else, she was in shock and certainly needed more attention than he could give. In this case all he could do was evaluate and transport, especially since she stubbornly refused treatment.
She cocked her head and considered him for a moment, then said, “Okay, I’ll make you a deal. You help me deliver this cake, then I’ll go to the hospital.”
“What? I can’t do that.”
“Then you should go. I’ll deliver the cake, then take myself to a doctor.”
“You can’t drive, December. You’re obviously dizzy, and if you have an underlying head injury, you’d be a danger to others on the road.”
Instinct told him she had maybe a mild concussion, but likely she was only suffering the effects of shock. Either way, she really shouldn’t drive.
&nbs
p; She stood and turned her back to him, working to straighten and secure the cake. When she finally faced him again, she said, “Then you drive. Take me to deliver the cake, then I’ll go with you willingly to the hospital. You can even stay with me the whole time to catch me if I fall to the floor or start bleeding from my ears or something.”
It was so against protocol, but one of the things he’d learned as a SEAL was to go with the flow. Missions never went exactly as planned, so they had to be ready to improvise. His ability to adapt and stay calm had earned him his nickname, Chill.
Being a paramedic was similar only because he never knew what he’d find, and had to be ready for anything. December’s request was a first, though.
Because he couldn’t, in good conscience, let her go without being evaluated further, and because some selfish thing in him didn’t want their encounter to be over just yet, he agreed.
“Fine. But first I’m going to clean and bandage your head, then I need to tell my partner.” He took a few moments to clean the wound, which after he wiped away the blood didn’t amount to much, just a small laceration. It probably needed a few stitches, but it had stopped bleeding already.
When he touched her skin, though, brushing aside some stray hair before wiping the wound with some gauze, something happened. Not so much a shock as a rush. With other patients, it never crossed his mind. He just had to touch them to do his job, and it was all just the mechanics of work. This time was different though, maybe because of his attraction to her, but he had to remind himself not to tuck the hair behind her ear, or lift it to his nose to take a whiff.
Jesus. He needed to get a grip. Talk about creepy. She’d sue his ass for harassment so fast.
But then he noticed the gooseflesh on her neck, and she glanced up at him with those big brown eyes and if he wasn’t mistaken, he saw a flash of something flit across her face before she cleared her throat and glanced away.
Either way—whether she felt the same spark or not—now was definitely not the time to acknowledge it, so he covered the cleaned wound with a bandage and said, “Go ahead and get in the passenger’s seat, put on your seatbelt, and I’ll be right back.”
“Okay.”
Dante closed his medical bag and stopped to stash it in the front of the van as he headed for the ambulance to talk to Jay. His partner would be pissed, and wouldn’t support Dante’s actions. Jay was a career paramedic, and he did things by the book. He was a nice guy, and a great partner. Dante couldn’t have asked for better. But he wouldn’t understand.
Dante found Jay getting ready to load the gurney with the driver of the other car into the ambulance.
“Good, you’re here. You can help me,” Jay said. They pushed the gurney into the truck, the legs collapsing as they did. “Where’s the other driver?”
“About that,” Dante said. “She’s not badly injured, but she’s stubborn as a mule. Long story short, she insists on making a delivery before going to the hospital. I want her checked out, and I don’t want her driving, so I’m going to take her for the delivery then to the hospital.”
“What the hell? You can’t do that.”
“I don’t want her on the road. It’s no big deal. I’m still transporting her, we’re just taking a detour first.”
“If you’re asking for my approval, you don’t have it,” Jay said.
“I’m not.”
“Fine. I’ve gotta get this guy to the ER. He’s not bad, either, but he needs some stitches and x-rays. I’ll catch you back at the station. Be careful.”
“Will do.”
Dante jogged back to the van and climbed into the driver’s seat. The van itself hadn’t suffered significant damage. The impact must have been low impact. The only issues appeared to be some crumpling of the passenger’s side wall of the cargo section of the van, but nothing major.
She’d already inserted the key into the ignition, so once he’d secured his seatbelt he started it up and glanced over at her. “Where to?”
“Just follow Dolly’s directions,” she said, poking the screen on the GPS.
“Dolly?” Dante asked. “You named the GPS?”
“Well, the van. But yeah.”
“Why?”
She cocked her head, confused. “Why not?”
He didn’t know her well enough to dive into that conversation. Clearly she was the quirky, artistic type, so for her naming her car probably wasn’t odd.
The program spoke its first instructions, and once Jay moved the ambulance and the cops on the scene cleared him, Dante took the van fully through the intersection and onto the road.
“We’re not far,” December said, pulling her hair up into a ponytail. “When we get there, just stay in the van. I don’t need the questions I’ll get having a uniformed paramedic following me around.”
“Nope. Not part of the deal,” he said, making a required turn. “You can just tell everyone who asks that it’s a hell of a story, but you’re there to deliver cake, not upstage the wedding.”
She made an appreciative face and nodded. “That’ll work. And you can use those muscles to help carry the cake.”
Had she really just said that? Really, December, you can use those muscles to help carry the cake? She must actually have a head injury to be flirting with the paramedic.
To be fair, though, he was super hot.
She chanced a sideways glance at him. The short sleeves of his light blue shirt fit snuggly around his bulging biceps, the muscles in question. He also had a strong jaw, beautiful eyes, and lips that begged to be kissed. He was sexy as hell in uniform, and probably out of it, too, which reminded her of his gentle touch. When he’d swept her hair aside to clean the wound, it had given her the good kind of shivers.
Turning forward, she rolled her eyes at herself. Sure, he was an attractive man, but hitting on the paramedic responding to your car accident was probably not the coolest move. Take a breath, and chill.
He turned into the parking lot of the historic estate where the wedding would take place.
“Where do I park?” Dante asked.
“Around back. The wedding’s on the garden terrace, but the reception will be set up behind the building under a pavilion. Just park, and I’ll find the wedding planner to get her instructions and tell her about the situation with the cake.”
He did as she asked, and once he’d parked, she hurried out of the van toward the estate house. Her head swam a little bit, but not too bad. At this point, she just wanted to get the cake set up and repaired, then go home and rest.
When she entered through the back door, he crowded in behind her.
“What are you doing? I told you to stay in the van,” she said.
He crossed his arms, an impressive pose she’d have taken the time to appreciate if he wasn’t also annoying the hell out of her by following her.
“Where you go, I go,” he said. “Until I deliver you to the hospital, you’re my responsibility.”
“Ugh. Fine.”
It took some searching to find Amy, the wedding planner, but December finally located her in an upstairs suite with some of the bridesmaids.
“December,” Amy said, and then noticing the bandage. “What happened to you? Oh, and who’s the hunk?”
December glanced over her shoulder at Dante, a weird flash of possessiveness sparking in her gut. But she shook it off. Just because he’d become her temporary shadow didn’t mean anything. The guy could be married, for all she knew.
“It’s a long story, but the short version is I had a fender bender on the way over and the cake got a little damaged. I can fix it, but I need to know where you want it set up so I can get to work on it.”
“Oh my God, are you okay?”
Amy hurried over to her and took her hand, worry in her eyes. December knew many wedding planners in Chicago. Wedding cakes were a huge part of her job and Kate’s business, so cozying up to wedding planners was essential. Amy was one of December’s favorites, and a friend.
“I�
�m fine. Just a little bump on the head.”
Dante grunted behind her, his doubt obvious.
Amy dropped December’s hand and scooted around her to stand in front of Dante. She offered her hand for him to shake.
“Hi. I’m Amy.”
“Jesus, Amy. You’re shameless,” December said, adding a chuckle to take the edge off the words. Amy was drop dead gorgeous, and used to attracting flocks of men, a problem December had never experienced.
Even still, December wedged herself between Dante and Amy.
“All you had to do is call dibs,” Amy said, following December and Dante downstairs.
“I don’t have any claim on him,” December said as they entered the enormous kitchen.
“Mhm. That’s not how it sounded.”
“You know I can hear you two, right?” Dante asked.
December’s cheeks heated. “Anyway,” she said, changing the awkward subject. “Do you have a cart I can put the cake on to load it in here and work on it?”
Amy leaned on the counter, still in her pre-wedding jeans and t-shirt. She’d change into a pretty dress later, something that made her stand out, but not enough to take the attention off the brides.
“Sure. There’s one in the kitchen work room. Would you be willing to go fetch it, handsome?”
December face-palmed. How embarrassing.
“No problem,” he said. “But don’t do anything while I’m gone, December.”
The concerned warning in his voice warmed her…what? Warmed her what? Her heart? She’d known him all of an hour. While he could—and did—warm other parts of her, he couldn’t possibly warm her heart in such a short time. Her Jell-o brain obviously wasn’t firing on all cylinders.
After he’d left the room, in a stage whisper Amy said, “He is H-O-T, hot. If you don’t get all over that, you’re a fool.”
December glanced toward the work room to be sure Dante was still in there, then responded to Amy. “He’s the paramedic who responded to the accident. He insists I go to the hospital, and refused to leave my side until I do.”
“Oh yummy. Sexy and chivalrous.”
“For heaven’s sake, Amy. He’s just doing his job. Don’t you have flowers to fluff or something?”
Special Forces: Operation Alpha: December Chill (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Sealed With A Kiss Series Book 4) Page 2