Safe in the Surgeon's Arms

by Molly Evans

  “Okay, what’s the date?”

  She gave it to him. It was three weeks away, and even he could get his life arranged to accommodate one night with his sister. “I fully expect you to pick me up and dance to every song I like.”

  He laughed into the phone, and her heart warmed. He was a nut, but he was her brother. “So you want the whole Cinderella package?”

  “Yeah, but I don’t want to turn into a pumpkin at midnight, though. Orange is not my color.” Not with her hair.

  “Gotcha. I will see to it that you have a lovely evening.”

  “And, for God’s sake, clean out your car. If it was a building it would have been condemned.”

  “I will. See you tonight.” The phone went dead, and she clicked off her hands-free device, suddenly looking forward to tonight at the fire station, saying hello to his work buddies. That meant she had to get her act together and get her workout done.

  A good, hard run would help dislodge the images of Chase lingering in her mind and images from the past that began to surface. Some part of her wished she could just let those images of him hang out in her brain so she could visit with them a while. But there was no good purpose in hanging onto the past she’d worked so hard to forget.

  There were times when images of Chase came to her, like the middle of the night, and she’d remember how good they’d been together. Those nights she’d wake up with tears on her face and an ache between her legs only he had been able to assuage.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHASE ARRIVED AT the fire station just in time to see Emily enter the building. He loved helping out his community by attending fundraisers, especially when there was food involved that he didn’t have to cook, but, damn. He should have thought she’d be there. Danny was her brother first, before he was Chase’s friend. The giant fire trucks were out front, all shined up for the public event. Cars filled the lot, lined the streets, and Chase had to walk a few blocks from where he’d parked the car.

  Evening was approaching. Though still early October, the evenings were beginning to chill. Not enough for a jacket, but the damp air from the ocean so close by added a depth to the cold not found in dryer climates. He loved living this close to the water, surrounded by it, really, but there were times when the humidity complicated life.

  The station was a madhouse. Kids ran around, screaming and carrying on, a continuous line from the hall itself to the large, inflatable castle jumpie-thing out front. Who knew what they were called, anyway? Kids didn’t care. They just wanted to bounce around till they barfed. Good thing it had been set up before the spaghetti dinner.

  Balloons, streamers, even a disco ball hung from the center of the room. No wonder they’d moved the trucks out. Needed room for all the chaos inside. The place sounded like a nightclub.

  “Chase! There you are. Thought you might be held up at work or something.” Danny approached, gave him a fist bump, then a one-armed bro hug. Several other firefighters shook his hand and offered him a hearty welcome.

  “Made it.” Just in time to see your sister come in.

  “Grab a plate, eat all you want. Step up onto the scale now and after. We charge you per pound you eat.”

  “What?” He laughed. “Are you serious?”

  “Kidding. It’s a donation by the plate.”

  “Almost had me on that one.” Danny was such a kidder, it was hard to know when to take him seriously.

  Danny snorted and slapped his thigh. “You should see the women when I tell ’em that. They’d rather starve than get on the scale in front of a bunch of men.”

  Chase narrowed his eyes at Danny. “There’s a reason you’re not married, you know that, right?”

  “You’re right about that!” He pointed to his temple and nodded. “Too smart.”

  “That wasn’t what I was going to say.” Chase shook his head and got into line behind a family. There was the mom, dad and three girls who looked like they were all between the ages of eighteen months and six years old.

  “Hi!” The middle girl waved at him, her bright blue eyes sparkling with an overabundance of personality. “I have two dogs.” She held up three fingers on one hand.

  “That’s very nice.” He grinned. Kids always spoke their minds and didn’t have that pesky social filter ingrained in them yet.

  “One is black, and one is brown.” After that statement she nodded, as if mentally checking her colors.

  “Is that right?” He couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm.

  “Yes.” She bobbed her head and rose up and down on the balls of her feet. “One’s a boy, and one’s a girl.”

  “That’s good.”

  “I know one’s a boy because he has—”

  “Sara!” The mother interrupted, a horrified expression on her pale face. “I think this man doesn’t need the whole explanation.”

  “But—”

  “No. He knows about boys and girls already.” The mother gave Chase such a pleading look that he had to laugh. She mouthed “I’m so sorry” to him and crossed her eyes. Chase could see where Sara got her personality from.

  The little fireball looked up at him, blue eyes questioning and curious, trying to determine the truth. “Do you?”

  “Yes, I do.” He nodded.

  “Oh.” She stuck out her lower lip and got back in line, obviously disappointed she couldn’t share her vast knowledge with him.

  “Sorry about that.” Sara’s father spoke to him and adjusted the toddler in his arms. “They say boys are a handful. Try three girls.”

  Chase laughed. “I completely agree.” He looked at the little imp again. That was what Emily must have looked like as a child, all the wonder in her blue eyes, and gilt in her long hair that curled up at the ends. Then he sobered, realizing the youthful innocence that had attracted him to Emily in the first place was absent in her now. Curls had been replaced by short spiky locks, the gilt tarnished to a red-gold, and the innocence replaced by determination, anger and, somehow, courage of unfathomable depth. That saddened him to a degree he hadn’t thought he was capable of feeling for her now.

  After going through the line and dishing up a plateful of pasta, choosing a white sauce with clams from the Chesapeake Bay, Chase nabbed a cup of some sort of red juice and a slice of fresh garlic bread. He sat down at a table a family was just vacating. It was the only one left in the house and, don’t you know, the only one left behind was Emily.

  “Don’t say anything, just sit down and eat.” She waved to the seat across from her. “We stragglers have to sit wherever there’s a seat.”

  Soon they were surrounded by others and the chatter of children and families drowned out any pretense they could have made at small talk. Sara took a place beside Chase and sat with her feet folded beneath her in order to reach the table. The little chatterbox kept up more small talk than Chase had ever heard at one time.

  “And that’s how plants grow.” She reached for her glass, but it slipped out of her little fingers.

  The milk spilled, immediately followed by an ear-piercing scream, the pitch of which was enough to deafen people three counties over. Several people sprang back from the table, already accustomed to such mishaps at mealtimes with children. Unfortunately, Chase wasn’t fast enough, and ended up with most of the cold milk in his lap.

  Sara leaned closer and gave him an innocent look. “You got milk all over you, mister.”

  “I see that.” He accepted the pile of napkins Emily handed to him. With her ninja reflexes, she’d managed to spring back from the table in time to miss the white flood.

  “Looks like you’re gonna need some clothes.” Emily provided the succinct statement and smirked at the sight of his wet lap.

  “I’ve got extra scrubs in the car.” Trying to pluck the wet fabric away from his skin would only draw mor
e attention to an area he’d rather avoid.

  Just then the most obnoxious alarm rang out, lights began to flash on the trucks outside and firefighters raced for their equipment.

  “What’s going on?” someone asked.

  “They must have had a call.” Although her brother loved his chosen profession, she still worried when he geared up to go out. She never knew if he would be coming home, but that was another area of control she’d had to give up. If Danny died in the performance of his duties as a firefighter, then he would die happy in service to his community.

  Danny jogged over to them. “You guys should probably head to the hospital. There’s been a ten-car pile-up on the freeway and, from the initial sound of it, it’s bad.”

  Emily stood. “Right away. I’ll go now.”

  “Come on. You can ride with me.” Chase tossed down the wad of napkins. “It’ll save time.”

  “Okay. Okay.” She turned to Danny and hugged him. In his protective gear, he felt huge. “Be careful, please.”

  He grinned and winked at her, confident as usual. “Always, big sister, always.”

  Emily and Chase followed Danny out the door and quickly walked to Chase’s car around the corner.

  Fire trucks raced away in one direction, and they raced away in the opposite one.

  “I wonder what happened.” Emily chewed on her lower lip, a frown of concern marring the beauty of her face.

  “It’s always the same. Someone did something stupid, then someone else pays for it.” Chase supplied the answer with disgust. He’d been at it too long to believe otherwise. It was the stupidity of humanity that people suffered from.

  “I see.”

  Chase shot a quick glance at her. “I didn’t mean anything by that.” He clutched the steering-wheel tightly, feeling like he’d just stepped in it big time. He hadn’t meant the remark to be in relation to what had happened to her in the past. He’d said he didn’t want to walk on eggshells and apparently he wasn’t. He couldn’t monitor everything that came out of his mouth, could he? “Dammit.”

  “It’s true.” She turned to face the window, not really seeing the scenery. “It’s the innocents who usually pay for the indiscretions of others, even something as simple as a lane change without looking.”

  Grim-faced, Chase focused on driving, getting them to the hospital without incident. There was nothing he could say, because it was all true.

  They entered the ER together. “I’ll go find some scrubs to change into.” She looked down at her casual workout attire. “I want to at least look semiprofessional. I’ll see you in a few.”

  “I’ll have to change, too.”

  She disappeared down the hall. Chase headed toward the staff lounge, but was stopped by the charge nurse.

  “Chase? What’s going on? What are you guys doing here?” Liz asked, a puzzled expression on her face. “No one’s hurt, are you?”

  “No, we’re fine. We were at the fire station when they got a call with a ten-car pileup, so we’re anticipating you’ll need us.”

  “Oh, wow. Absolutely right.” Liz nodded, her expression changing to one of disbelief. “We don’t have enough people on duty to cover that plus the usual mayhem.” She grabbed the phone. “I’ll start the disaster protocol. If I forget to tell you later, thanks for coming in.”

  “Sure. Gotta change, though.” Chase entered the locker room and stepped inside.

  Emily was there in a state of undress he’d not seen in three years.

  “Get out.” Emily grabbed her scrub shirt and covered what she could of her body, but he’d seen her many times without clothing.

  “No.” Hell, no. Not when there was an imminent emergency breathing down their necks.

  “Then turn your back.” She stood still, staring at him until he nodded.

  “Fine.” He turned his back, then backed up toward the benches between the rows of lockers and began to undress.

  “What are you doing?” She struggled to get the scrub top over her head. Punched her hand through the neck instead of the sleeve, reoriented it, and tried again.

  “I’m changing for an emergency, the same as you.” He whipped the milk-sodden shirt off and dropped his pants. Right there, in front of her, like he’d been doing it all the time!

  “Well, stop it!” God. She didn’t need to see him and all that muscle, those runner’s legs. Not now. Not just when she’d thought she’d gotten them out of her mind.

  “No. We’re in a hurry. There’s no time for modesty now. Besides, we’ve seen each other naked a million times.”

  “I don’t care—it’s not appropriate anymore.” Seriously, not appropriate. Because it was making her mouth water and diverting her attention from the issue looming in front of them.

  “Fine. I’ll just pretend I didn’t see anything.” Like that was going to happen anytime soon. He’d certainly gotten an eyeful of her figure the second he’d entered the locker room. A man accustomed to making snap decisions based on quick assessments, he’d made one then. Beneath the loose scrubs and bulky martial arts uniform, Emily was a knockout, and he wasn’t over her.

  She’d toned her body to the point of very little body fat. The muscles in her calves and thighs were well defined, arms looked strong and toned and her abdomen looked like he could have bounced a quarter off it.

  So that was why he turned his back, to hide the immediate and surging arousal his body had experienced when he’d seen her in just her bra and panties. Boxers weren’t very helpful at hiding anything.

  Pushing her feet into the loose scrubs, Emily tucked the shirt into the waistband and tied it tightly against her waist. She’d grabbed medium-sized scrubs and the legs were too long, so she put a foot up on the bench, rolled up the cuffs and secured each of them with a twist, then put her shoes back on. Her heart thrummed in her chest, and she was certain it wasn’t just from the anticipation of the arriving traumas. Seeing Chase that way made her think of the many ways she’d seen his skin in the past, and she just didn’t want to remember. She’d spent too many years trying to forget.

  “I’ll see you out there.” Chase stuffed his clothing into a locker and went into the ER without looking back.

  Having not been assigned a locker yet, Emily stowed her clothing in Chase’s locker and closed the door, trying to ignore the whiff of male fragrance emanating from the unit, of the memories it evoked from deep in her mind. But it was the deodorant or aftershave that she’d always loved on him that locked into her mind and followed her out into the ER, suffocating her with memories of him.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “WHAT DO YOU need me to do?” Emily asked. Anticipation hummed through her as if she were going into an arena to spar with an opponent.

  “Emily, you’re with Chase in trauma room one. It should be set up, but double-check. You’ll have the first patient through the doors so everyone else can wind up their patients and get them to the floors or discharged.” Liz checked something off the paper on her clipboard and gave a brisk nod.

  “Got it.” Liz continued to act as unit commander, per the hospital protocol, giving out assignments and orders to those in her department. The usual assignments were on hold in this situation until they were certain of the toll of the disaster. Patients with minor issues were asked to go home, or seek care elsewhere. Most of them left, grumbling but understanding the serious nature of the request.

  “Everyone get something to drink and a snack now. There’s no telling when you’ll have a break.” Liz made an overhead page to all staff.

  Emily entered the largest trauma room of the ER. There was enough equipment and space in there to handle just about any emergency, including the time they’d had to extricate a local farmer from a piece of equipment, a corn picker that had nearly taken the man’s leg off. She opened up three bottles of IV fluids,
spiked the tubings into them and hung them on poles suspended from the ceiling, ready to go.

  Chase entered, his movements hurried and tense. “Suit me up.”

  Emily held out the blue paper gown for him, and he punched his arms through like a surgeon in an operating room. She moved behind him, tied the string behind his back and then held out the gloves for him.

  “Have you heard what the first one is yet?”

  “Yes. Gonna be ugly. Delivery truck with a load of fencing materials hit the brakes, the load shifted, and we’re getting the passenger from the car behind it.”

  “Driver okay, then?” She gave him a hopeful look, but he shook his head and the look in his eyes said it all.

  “No. Impaled through the windshield. Didn’t have a chance.”

  “Oh. Do you know what kind of injury the passenger has?”

  “We’ll know in a few seconds but, guessing head, neck and chest injuries.”

  The doors burst open and the first patient arrived. The ambulance crew was high from the excitement of the rescue and pulling the person back from the edge of death.

  “What do we have?” Chase asked, settling into his role.

  “Fifty-year-old female passenger, sustained loss of consciousness. Bruising on forehead indicates she hit the dash. Lacerations widespread from glass, but none serious.”

  “Let’s move her over.” Emily directed the crew and six people prepared to shift the patient to the gurney. “One. Two. Three.”

  Smoothly and gently, the patient was moved onto the hospital gurney and the crew pulled their cart out of the way.

  “Vital signs are all over the place. Intubated in the field as a precaution because her oxygen level kept dropping. Not sure if she has a lung injury or not.”