My Calling

by Lyssa Layne

  “Excuse me?”

  Saylor and I both stop, looking at the police officer and the little boy. Silence fills the air in the short distance between us and them although chaotic emergency room noises play loudly around us. Without notice, the little boy runs straight into my legs, casting his arms around me and squeezing tightly. I let out an “oof” as he takes me by surprise and I stand there awkwardly. Saylor looks like she might cry as she smiles beside me and the cop nods at me. Unsure what to do, I pat the kid’s back until he finally lets go and returns to the officer.

  Some sort of odd feeling runs down my spine and I’m not sure if I’m creeped out or if it’s something more along the lines of feeling good after helping someone. I’m not too familiar with the latter but judging by the misty eyes of Saylor, I have a feeling that’s what it is. When she notices me looking at her, she turns quickly and continues her march to the rig. I sigh, thank god this shift is almost over. Saylor’s making me soft in one way and way too hard in another.

  CHAPTER 11

  Beck

  “Beck. Warner. My office.”

  As much as I despise authority, I like that our boss keeps things short and to the point. Saylor glances in my direction nervously. I shrug my shoulders, trying to put her at ease but I keep my ‘I don’t give a shit’ look on my face in an effort to still keep her at a distance. I let Saylor walk in front of me which is a bad idea given how her BDU pants hug her firm ass. I close the door behind us, trying to adjust myself thanks to the way my body reacts to her tight, little body.

  Our supervisor thumbs through a folder in his hands, not fully facing us as he begins to speak. “I’ve had quite a few calls about the two of you after the seizure lady call the other day.”

  Saylor straightens her posture, her bright red lips flattening as she waits for what’s going to come next. See, the difference between her and myself is that she gives a shit about this job while I just give a shit about her. Her eyes are focused on the superior in front of us while I’m ready to keep Saylor from fleeing after our boss says his piece.

  “The cop was impressed with the way you handled the kid, Beck. He said when he arrived on scene it was like the two of you had this fluid conversation without even speaking and the whole thing was handled perfectly. The mom’s doing great, the kid wasn’t scared shitless, and you two got us on the good side of the cops and the hospital which doesn’t happen often.”

  Saylor’s lips twitch, wanting to smile but she tries to contain her excitement. Me on the other hand doesn’t give a shit about professionalism and I feel my lips involuntarily trying to smile for both Saylor and myself.

  “The staff in the ER were impressed with you two and the mom wouldn’t shut the hell up about how much she appreciated everything you guys did for her family. So, long story short, you two are partners until I tell you differently.”

  “But, what about Calvin?” Saylor blurts out, any hint of a smile long gone.

  “We’ll find him another partner. Besides, I need someone to keep this jackass in line.” The boss grins in my direction as he says that last part and I take his words as a compliment.

  Saylor starts to object again, but I take her hand and walk us out of his office. When the door closes behind us, Saylor yanks her hand away, placing them on her hips. She leans forward as she starts a rant about how this is ridiculous, we’re going to fail, she can’t work in these conditions, and blah blah blah. All I’m noticing is her sweet perfume tickling my nose.

  “What is that smell?” I ask, leaning away from her, trying to escape the sweet scent of Saylor.

  “What are you talking about?” Saylor lifts her nose, taking deep inhales, trying to figure out what I’m referring to.

  I sniff in her direction and shake my head. “It’s you.”

  Her face goes white and she leans toward her armpit, trying to secretly smell herself.

  “Your perfume.” I try my best not to roll my eyes but I fail miserably. “Your perfume is messin’ with my allergies. You’re going to have to get rid of it.”

  Saylor looks slightly relieved that I’m only referring to her perfume and not some kind of funky BO. She throws back her head, lets out a huff then marches down the hallway. Her perfume doesn’t do shit to my allergies but it’s one less way to be tempted by her.

  Saylor

  A week into this partnership and aside from the perilous silence we suffer through between calls, it hasn’t been as bad as I expected. Our supervisor was right, Beck and I seriously have some kind of superpower where we don’t even have to talk to know exactly what the other person is going to do when we’re on a call. I kind of take the lead on all things medical while he does more crowd control whether is be shielding a child from their wounded parent or nosey bystanders wanting to know what’s going on. Still, I’m a people person and this cold shoulder from Beck is driving me insane.

  Beck drives down the road, one hand on the wheel and paying no attention to me. The setting sun provides a perfect silhouette, allowing me to see exactly how chiseled his jawline is under that gruffy beard. I clear my throat and Beck glances in my direction for about point five seconds then back to the road as though I’m not even in the same vehicle as him.

  “You like to sing?” I ask casually while my heart races.

  Beck doesn’t answer, doesn’t even flinch at my question.

  I take a deep breath and go on, not giving up. “I do. I actually love to sing and I think I’m pretty good at it.”

  Pulling out my phone, I scroll through my music until I find the song I want. Vanilla Ice plays through my iPhone and I break out in rap, singing every word to the song, but still Beck doesn’t break. I pause the song and look over at him.

  “Dude, it’s obvious that we work well together so lighten up and don’t be such a statue. You know it’s okay to laugh, right?”

  Beck keeps his focus on the road ahead of us. I roll my eyes and turn up my music, playing one nineties song after another, my voice getting louder with each song until I finally showcase my mad case of seat dancing. I lean across the aisle between us, my face as close as I can get to Beck’s with my seatbelt on and sing like a robot to match my dance moves.

  “Come on, Saylor, stop,” Beck finally mutters.

  “Nope. Not… going… to… stop… until… you… smile,” I say robotically.

  “I don’t smile.”

  “Sure… you… do…” I sound like R2-D2 then I drop the imitation. “I’ve seen you smile. It’s really awkward like you don’t know how to do it but your eyes crinkle to match your happiness. It’s really awful but it’s cute at the same time.”

  Beck stops as the light turns red and looks at me. “Is that supposed to be some kind of a compliment?”

  I grin. “Depends. All I’m saying is that if we’re going to be forced to work together, then don’t make this torture. You’ve obviously proven that you can fend off my hotness so let’s just call a truce and be friends?”

  Beck shakes his head, giving a small laugh. “Your hotness, huh?”

  I bat my eyelashes, smiling innocently. “Call it what you want.”

  He laughs again, nodding his head and that stiff smile appears on his lips. I throw my arms up in victory, letting out a small cheer. Bearded Beck-0, Smiling Saylor-1!

  CHAPTER 12

  Saylor

  The locker room is full of end of shift chatter so it’s easy to sneak up on Beck who refuses to speak to any of our co-workers. I guess I should consider myself lucky that he’s at least talking to me after my fine display of dance moves although I still couldn’t even tell you his full name.

  “Boo!” I say in my normal voice, popping my head beside Beck’s locker.

  “Fuck!” he mutters, flinching but trying to act like he doesn’t care.

  I lean back against the locker beside his, giggling hysterically. Beck rolls his eyes and slams his locker shut. Trying to reign in my laughter, I follow him in his Johnny Cash outfit out to the hallway. Hoisting m
y bag on my shoulder, I lean against him, brushing our arms against one another’s and letting that wildfire of desire spread throughout my body.

  “What do you say we grab a drink?”

  Beck smirks and shakes his head. “I say no way. I don’t feel like holding your hair back while you pray to the porcelain gods again.”

  “Ha, ha.” I poof my curls with my hand. “Besides, my hair is way too cute to be ruined by you touching it tonight. I meant a virgin drink… that’s what partners do, they hang out, decompress after their shifts…” Granted, most decompress with alcohol but I could think of a different way to decompress. Ugh… Beck has my hormones on high alert, wanting some sexual satisfaction like never before.

  He holds open the door to the parking lot, waiting for me to pass through. I turn sideways so I’m facing him and lift my eyebrow. “So… wanna hang out?”

  Beck takes a few seconds before answering, he always does. Seriously, the man thinks through every decision he ever makes very thoroughly. I mean, I’m only talking about a few virgin drinks to feed my hormonal need so that I can later fulfill my pleasure with Buzz Light Cheer.

  “Fine,” he finally says reluctantly as though I’m asking him to rob a bank with me instead of spend an hour off the clock together.

  Twenty minutes later, Beck and I are enjoying two virgin strawberry daiquiris in the awful lighting of the bar across from the station. I have to admit it’s hilarious and endearing to see the fruity cocktail sitting in front of Beck although he has yet to take a drink of it. After easy, casual conversation, I decide to up the ante.

  “So, why no girlfriend?”

  Beck’s finger stops moving around the rim of the glass he still hasn’t drank. “Who says I don’t have a girlfriend?”

  I roll my eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. “Fine, tell me about her.”

  His lips purse together, carefully contemplating his next words. “No girlfriend, no need or desire to deal with that shit.”

  My mouth drops open. “No desire to be with a woman? You are not gay… are you?”

  It’s silent for a long time as my dreams of being with Beck are crushed that he plays for the same team. That my wishes of being completely consumed by him are vanished. My jaw is still gaping open because I’m completely unable to function thanks to the bomb he just dropped on me. A deep, throaty laugh interrupts my devastation and it takes me a moment to realize it’s Beck laughing. Much like his smile, this too is so odd and unfamiliar to me.

  “Definitely not gay, sweetheart. Of course I have that kind of desire, which I get when I need it, but nothing long term. No offense but women are way too much drama than they’re worth most of the time.”

  Picking my jaw up, I scoff and shake my head. “You are such a chauvinistic pig, Beck… what’s your full name?”

  He shakes his head. “Your turn first. Tell me about your love life.”

  I gulp because I’m not ready to admit the truth to Beck or anyone else for that matter.

  Beck

  Saylor’s face turns three shades of red and I have to admit, I kind of love making her feel that way. In fact, now that she has my mind in the bedroom, visions of turning her face that color again while we’re between the sheets dance in my head. She finishes off the drink in her hand and I slide her mine.

  “Tell me about your most serious relationship.” I’m not going to waste my breath asking if she currently has a boyfriend because I know for a fact that she hasn’t since she started paramedic school.

  Saylor spins my glass in her hand. “Um… I don’t date much.”

  I lean forward, lifting her chin to look at me and reveling in the fact that I get to touch her. My fingers tingle against her skin and the excitement drives straight between my legs.

  “A beautiful woman like yourself? I find that hard to believe. Tell me about the last guy you dated.” I don’t pull my hand back because I’ve missed her touch and I’m not ready to lose it again.

  “He wasn’t very nice.” Saylor drops her eyes, obviously avoiding my gaze.

  My mind races, not knowing exactly which boyfriend she’s referring to. I’ve seen them all and ran them all off. The ones that weren’t sent by her criminal father were just as bad as the ones that were.

  “How so, Saylor?” Her eyes stay lowered and I run my hand down her arm, lacing our fingers together. “You can trust me, Saylor.”

  She glances up and that look I remember from the day Eddie died flashes across her face. Her thumb rubs the back of my hand as she tries to ease her nerves, doing the same to me. She shrugs and shakes her head.

  “It’s really not a big deal. I was dating a guy in high school, I thought maybe he was the one but then he just disappeared one day and I never saw him again.”

  Richard Winer. He was one that her father sent. The cocksucker known as her father was put behind bars when Saylor was only ten, which is why Eddie was raising her. Her father knew that Eddie left her money and as the only living relative, he stood to inherit it should anything happen to Saylor. He sent convict after convict to date and terrorize his daughter in hopes he would get that money but that’s where I came in. Richard was different than the others that he sent because I genuinely think he had feelings for Saylor but I didn’t trust him and it didn’t take much to run him off.

  “After he left, I kind of lost myself and tried to start over. I went as far as a thirty dollar bus fare would take me and stayed in Wallburga where I got off the bus. I ended up staying there for about six months before I came back here which is where I grew up.”

  My stomach flip flops. Those six months have been the only time I’ve ever lost Saylor and it was hell. That’s when I virtually doubled in size because I was in the gym every waking hour I wasn’t searching for her. This is the first time that I knew where she was.

  Her head dips again, breaking our eye contact and her thumb rubs harder against my skin. “I got a job waiting tables and started dating my boss, who happened to be a drug dealer, but I had no idea at the time. He took me in, gave me a place to stay, and…”

  This is bad, whatever she’s going to say is bad. “And what, Saylor?” My voice is on edge, showing that I care way too much.

  She pulls her hand back and lifts her palms up as she shrugs. “And he just wasn’t nice. I survived, it’s made me stronger, and pickier, but it was just a bad time in my life.”

  Fuck. He hurt her. I failed Eddie. I failed Saylor. Did he…

  “Saylor… did he… cause if he did, I will find him and—”

  Saylor smiles and touches her hand to my cheek. “For someone who didn’t even talk to me a week ago, you sure do care a lot about my past…”

  On instinct, I nuzzle my beard against her hand, locking my eyes with hers. “Because I can’t imagine anyone ever laying a hand on you and if I found out they did, there would be hell to pay.”

  “Beck, you can’t always protect me. My past is my past.”

  Saylor looks into my eyes, almost taunting me with her words yet she doesn’t know it. I lean forward, sliding my hands along her thighs as our faces get closer. My mind is screaming at me that this is a horrible idea but my eyes are locked in on her bright red lips. Her tongue runs over her bottom lip and she presses them together, wetting the top and bottom. I look into her eyes, wanting permission before I cross this fucked up line that Saylor doesn’t know exists. Her hand moves to the back of my head, her fingers fisting my hair and pulling me closer. I take a deep breath and close my eyes because shit is about to explode in my face and I’m so ready for it.

  CHAPTER 13

  Beck

  Sitting in my truck, I close my eyes, remembering exactly how the kiss went. It was fuckin’ amazing, there’s simply no other way to put it. Saylor blood red lips that I absolutely despise when she wears that lipstick were thick, sweet, and gave me a fuckin’ hard on like I couldn’t imagine. Her tugging at my hair and my hands on her thighs were a lethal combination and when I felt her tongue on mine, I knew that
kiss was only going to lead to very naughty things. I never thought I’d say it but I was relieved when Calvin showed up, interrupting our lip lock because that kiss needed to stay right there and not be taken out of that bar. The devastation on his face was pretty priceless, too.

  “Hey!” Saylor’s voice stings my ears and I jump as she hits the side of my truck door.

  “Shit,” I mutter, pushing her away as I open the door and climb out. Obviously, she isn’t taking the hint that I’m trying to limit any extra time around her, especially when we’re both changing clothes. I swear if I see her in the locker room in that black lace bra of hers again, I will fuckin’ lose it. Of course, I think she probably does it on purpose to drive me nuts and her plan is working far better than I let on.

  Saylor giggles, linking her arm through my elbow like we’re best friends as we walk into headquarters. She glances over at me, a slight frown coming to her lips. “You’re already dressed.”

  I nod. “Yeah, I’m not a fan of the sausage party in the locker room so I’m going to start getting ready at home.”

  Saylor rolls her gorgeous blue eyes. “You are totally exaggerating. I have yet to see a penis in that locker room. And no, penis is not a bad word.” She sticks her tongue out at the end of her sentence and I have to bite back the urge to kiss her again.

  I shrug. “Well, I don’t want to take any chances.”

  We get to the locker room door. I stop as Saylor keeps moving forward, her hand still on my elbow. She turns to me with her nose scrunched in confusion.

  “Come on.”

  I wave my hand down my body. “I’m already dressed. I’ll wait here for you.”