Trauma Alert

by Radclyffe

  Beau’s blazing smile shot a bolt of heat straight to Ali’s core, and she instantly schooled her expression to hide her response.

  “Dr. Torveau,” Beau said. “This is Captain Jeffries, our station commander.”

  “Good to meet you.” Ali shook the captain’s hand and introduced Bobby’s parents. Bobby’s mother gazed at Beau as if she were a holy apparition.

  “Bobby speaks so highly of you,” Mrs. Sizemore said. “Thank you so much for looking after him.”

  Beau blushed and looked uncomfortable, her blue eyes growing dark and stormy. “I’m sorry I let him get hurt, but Dr. Torveau and her team are taking really good care of him.”

  Captain Jeffries interjected, “You can be sure the Philadelphia Fire Department will see that he gets everything he needs.”

  While Beau and her captain consoled and reassured the family, Ali backed away and used the wall phone to call in to the unit. “Hi, it’s Ali. Tell Mary Ann that Bobby Sizemore’s parents are out here. She can come and get them whenever she’s ready.”

  She hung up and took one last look at the small group. Beau watched her, her expression brooding. Breaking away from that intense perusal took effort. She felt Beau’s eyes follow her all the way to the stairwell, and as soon as the door closed behind her—severing their connection—the world became instantly flat and flavorless. Ordinary. Routine. Normal.

  You stir me up, Beau had said.

  Ali understood exactly what Beau meant. Beau incited all kinds of reactions she wasn’t usually susceptible to. Swift shocks of pleasure. Flashes of anger. Longing. Arousal. All dangerous, all unwelcome. She was looking forward to getting out of the hospital and away from any further interactions with Beau. A nice quiet day of reading the newspapers, walking Victor, and dinner with Ralph would get her back on track.

  She headed directly to the locker room, waving to Manny as he left for home.

  “Hi,” Ali said to Wynter, who was in the process of changing already. Going through the motions that were so practiced she didn’t even think about them, Ali opened her locker, stripped out of her scrubs, and reached for the shirt hanging on a hook inside.

  “Do you need a ride?” Wynter asked.

  “No, I’m walking. It helps me clear out my head.”

  “Pearce is picking me up and we’re going out to breakfast. Want to come?”

  “When’s the last time you saw her?”

  Wynter paused, holding a green cable-knit sweater in both hands. “She was on call Thursday night and they had a ruptured aneurysm, so she never came home. I was on call last night. We left at different times yesterday morning.” She pulled her sweater over her head and tugged it down over her round belly. “Wednesday night when we went to bed?”

  “Right. Almost three days, and you want company for breakfast?” Ali tucked in her pale blue cotton shirt, buttoned her jeans, and sat down to put on her boots.

  “We’re having breakfast, not sex.” Wynter grinned. “Not at the same time, anyhow.”

  Ali snorted. “I appreciate it, but I need to walk off the night.”

  “Okay.” Wynter sat next to her. “So I hear the sexy studly one asked you out.”

  Ali stared. “What are you talking about?”

  “Jen Rosen was telling Mary Ann Cipriani that she heard the two of you—”

  “Oh, no,” Ali moaned. “Tell me the nurses are not discussing my private life.”

  “Ali, honey.” Wynter laughed. “You’re kidding, right? This is a hospital. Everyone discusses everyone else’s private life. Why should you be exempt?”

  “Because there’s nothing to talk about.” Ali clipped off each word between clenched teeth.

  “Did you really ask Beau what in the world made her think you’d want to have sex with her?”

  Ali closed her eyes.

  “Because Mary Ann apparently thinks you’re crazy.”

  “Mary Ann is totally straight,” Ali said, eyes still closed. “To hear her talk, she can’t get enough, and her tastes definitely run to the Y-chromosome variety.”

  “Oh, I know. I’ve heard some of her play-by-play accounts. Just the same…” Wynter jostled Ali’s shoulder mischievously. “She told Jen that for someone as hot as Beau, she’d be willing to switch teams for a night. Especially if Beau looked at her the way she looks at you.”

  Ali groaned. “Nothing happened.”

  “Just tell me. Did she ask and did you really say that?”

  “Yes and yes. And no,” Ali said, standing to pull her coat from her locker, “we don’t have a date.”

  No sex for six dates. Beau’s voice teased through her mind. Beau had no way of knowing she never had sex on a first date, or the third date, or sometimes not even the sixth.

  “Wouldn’t be a hardship for me,” she muttered, but her fingertips tingled with the memory of rippling muscles and soft skin.

  “What wouldn’t?” Wynter asked.

  “What?”

  “What wouldn’t be a hardship?”

  Ali shook her head. “Nothing. Have a great weekend. Say hi to Pearce for me.”

  “Not so fast.” Wynter grabbed Ali’s hand and climbed to her feet with a sigh. “I thought you said you were going to consider going out with her. Just for fun. Just fun, Ali. Remember the concept?”

  “Don’t be a pest.” Ali tossed her black wool greatcoat over one shoulder and grabbed Wynter’s overnight bag.

  “I promise, this’ll be the last time and I’ll never mention it again,” Wynter said, hooking her arm through Ali’s as they walked through the hospital toward the main lobby. “But tell me again what you have against spending time with a smart, good-looking woman who’s obviously interested in you?”

  “Absolutely nothing. Just not her.”

  “Because…” Wynter raised a brow.

  Ali draped her arm around Wynter’s shoulders and hugged her. “I already told you. I want a girl just like you.”

  “All right. I concede defeat. After all, how can I argue with that?” Wynter’s face lit up. “Speaking of sex on a stick, here comes mine. Yum yum yum.”

  Ali spotted Pearce Rifkin, looking rangy and lean in black jeans and a black turtleneck, her coal black hair windblown and her equally dark eyes zeroing in on Wynter with a decidedly hungry sparkle. Ali burst out laughing. “Oh yeah, and you wanted me to come to breakfast so I could watch the two of you nibble on each other?”

  “What’s so funny?” Pearce Rifkin asked, taking Wynter’s bag from Ali as she leaned in to kiss Wynter’s cheek. “Hi, baby. How was your night?”

  “Hi, sweetheart.” Wynter wrapped her arm around Pearce’s waist. “It was fine. How’s Ronnie?”

  “Elbow-deep in pancake syrup right about now. Ken’s making breakfast for the tribe.” Pearce stroked Wynter’s hair. “Still want to go out to breakfast?”

  “Well, if we’ve got the house to ourselves…” Wynter’s gaze slowly softened and she rubbed her cheek on Pearce’s shoulder.

  “Okay,” Ali said briskly, unable to smother a grin as they walked outside together. “I’ll be taking off now. You two have a marvelous morning.”

  “Good to see you again, Ali,” Pearce said, shifting her attention from Wynter with apparent reluctance. “Wynter told me you had to fill in for my father the other night. Sorry about that.”

  “No problem. Happy to do it.”

  Pearce grinned. “Uh-huh. See you next week at our place for the party?”

  “I’ll try to make it.”

  “Great. Everyone will be there.”

  Ali shot Wynter a look. “A small gathering?”

  Wynter shrugged sheepishly. “You know how hospital parties are. Word gets around. You already said you’d come, so you can’t back out now.”

  “I said I’d try.” Ali waved good-bye as Pearce and Wynter, still arm in arm, headed in the opposite direction. Maybe the party would be exactly the diversion she needed to put Beau out of her mind. She might even meet someone to help with that.

/>   *

  Beau watched Ali leave the hospital with Dr. Thompson and another woman who, from the way they’d been looking at each other as if they couldn’t get enough, had to be Dr. Thompson’s partner. Apparently domesticity hadn’t dampened their interest any. She’d never given a serious relationship much thought, other than to know one wasn’t for her. She didn’t really spend any time with couples, gay or otherwise. Her friends were her fellow firefighters, and she rarely saw them with their families—those who had one. Mostly she spent time with the other single firefighters. She never missed being part of a couple. Families were too much work. Sometimes, too much sacrifice.

  She walked outside and watched Ali cross the street in long, strong strides, her calf-length coat whipping around her body in the wind. She wondered what Ali would do for the rest of the day. She wondered what she would do without work until she could see Bobby again. Ordinarily, she hated her days off and volunteered for as many extra shifts as she could get. If she was working, she was moving, and if she was moving, she was happy.

  She was still thinking about Ali, trying to imagine how she would spend her time or who she might spend it with, when she walked into the house. Jilly, wearing maroon flannel pj’s, was ensconced in a recliner reading a book with a handsome man and sexy woman on the cover. She looked up and smiled when Beau dropped her gear in the hall just inside the front door.

  “I was starting to worry,” Jilly said. “I expected you home a long time ago.”

  “I was waiting for Bobby’s parents.” Beau collapsed onto the sofa and propped her feet on the coffee table.

  “Boots,” Jilly said automatically.

  With a groan, Beau leaned forward and unlaced her boots. She tossed them on the floor and swiveled around with her head facing Jilly and her sock-clad feet on the couch. “Okay?”

  “Much better. Did you get any sleep?”

  “Some. Did you eat breakfast?”

  Jilly shook her head. “I was waiting for you. How’s Bobby?”

  “Better. They extubated him this morning.”

  “That’s great.”

  Beau sighed. “Ali says he’s going to be fine. They’re transferring him to the step-down unit later today.”

  “Ali. She’s the doctor from last night who wanted to toss me out, right?”

  Beau grinned. “That would be her.”

  “You like her? You trust her?”

  “Absolutely.” Beau absently rubbed her fingers over the scar on her chest. An old habit that cropped up when she was tired or troubled. “She’s amazing.”

  Jilly drew her legs up and wrapped her arms around her knees, regarding Beau pensively. “Amazing, huh?”

  “Yeah.” Beau tilted her head back and stared at the ceiling. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Like after all this time you need permission?”

  Beau turned her head and regarded her sister. “If back when I was sick, things hadn’t worked out. If I’d died. Would you blame yourself?”

  “God, Beau.” Jilly laced her fingers tightly together. “You don’t ask easy questions, do you?”

  “I’m sorry. Never mind.”

  “No. It’s okay.” Jilly bit her lip and stared past Beau out the front window. “I would have known in my head somewhere that it wasn’t my fault, but I don’t think I would have been able to convince my heart of that.”

  “You don’t sometimes think it might’ve been better, or maybe just—right?”

  Jilly’s face flushed. “Are you out of your mind? Of course I don’t think that. Not once. Ever. You’re my sister. I love you. If anything happened to you—”

  “Hey,” Beau said quickly. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what the fuck I’m talking about. I just must be really tired. Forget it, Jilly. I’m a jerk.”

  “You’re a lot of things, Beau, but a jerk isn’t one of them.” Jilly moved over to sit on the coffee table and took Beau’s hand. She cradled it in hers and held it in her lap. Fixing Beau with an intense unwavering gaze, she said, “Have you been wondering about this all these years? Feeling responsible? Is that what this is about?”

  “Come on, Jilly,” Beau said. “I am responsible. If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t be sick now.”

  “That wasn’t your fault. When are you going to believe that?” Jilly lifted Beau’s hand and brushed her lips over her knuckles. “Where is all this coming from?”

  “I don’t know.” Beau sat up and pushed an errant strand of Jilly’s hair behind her ear. “Ali was telling me about her sister last night. She was killed—murdered.”

  Jilly murmured, “That’s horrible.”

  “She feels responsible. It still hurts her a lot.”

  “So Ali—Bobby’s surgeon—told you this.” Jilly ran her finger up and down Beau’s forearm. “It sounds like you know her kind of well.”

  “Not really. I just met her about a week ago, but we’ve had a few conversations.” Beau grinned crookedly. “More like a few run-ins. I’m not her favorite person.”

  “She’s really attractive.”

  “Understatement.”

  Jilly’s eyes sparkled. “You like her.”

  “Hard not to.”

  “No, I mean really like her.”

  “Not the way you’re thinking.” Beau nudged the book Jilly had been reading with her toe. “You’re the romantic. I don’t read this kind of stuff. Brave bold heroes and beautiful damsels and all that.”

  “That shows you how much you don’t know, smarty-pants. That happens to be a romance about a female firefighter and a single father. If anything, she’s the brave, bold hero and he’s the soft, nurturing one.” Jilly narrowed her eyes. “And you are trying to change the subject.”

  “I guess I just wanted to say thanks,” Beau said quietly. “And I love you.”

  Jilly’s eyes filled with tears. “I love you too, and I don’t ever want you to say thank you again. I don’t even want to think about how I would feel without you around.”

  Beau grinned. “So, that being the case, I was thinking we might make this living arrangement permanent.”

  “You pay half the mortgage, half the groceries, and do half the cleaning.”

  “I pay half the mortgage, all the groceries, and we hire someone to clean.”

  “Agreed. You going to tell me about Ali now?”

  “Nothing to tell.” Beau stood. “I’m going to make breakfast. Omelettes and bacon?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Beau headed into the kitchen, feeling more at home than she had in years. As she took food from the refrigerator and dishes from the cabinets, she wondered what Ali liked for breakfast. The last time she’d had breakfast with a woman other than Jilly had been in a hotel in Atlantic City. She’d gone down with some of the guys to gamble and party and had picked up a cocktail waitress. They’d had room service in between rounds of sex. She tried to picture having a quickie with Ali somewhere and couldn’t. Ali didn’t fit in any of the pictures she was used to when it came to women, and she had no idea what that meant.

  Chapter Eleven

  Ali took a shower, changed into loose khaki chinos and a red V-neck sweater, leafed through the last three Sunday editions of the New York Times, considered cleaning her apartment, and finally headed upstairs to collect Victor. She’d caught a couple hours’ sleep between four and six that morning, and probably should have tried to get more, but she couldn’t settle.

  Ralph answered her knock and regarded her with a faintly chiding expression. “You’re early. You should be in bed.”

  “I slept last night. Where’s the prince?”

  As if knowing he’d been summoned, Victor chuffed his way around the corner, his log-like body rolling from side to side on his stumpy legs. He carried his leash in his mouth, snorting with enthusiasm. Laughing, Ali hooked the lead to his collar.

  “You want me to pick up anything for dinner?” Ali asked.

  “If you’ve got plans tonight, I can leave you something downstairs in the kit
chen,” Ralph said. “You don’t need to spend Saturday night with an old man and a dog.”

  “No,” Ali replied. “No plans. And I like having dinner with you, so stop trying to get rid of me.”

  “Pick me up some fresh arugula, then,” Ralph said with a shake of his head.

  “You got it. Come on, Victor, let’s go shopping.” Ali was grateful that Ralph hadn’t pushed. She knew he worried about her being alone and couldn’t understand why she didn’t. She loved Ralph as much as anyone in her life, but she couldn’t explain to him that being alone, even when loneliness sometimes plagued her, was a choice she’d made and she didn’t regret the consequences.

  Outside, she was greeted by the kind of early winter morning she loved. The sun shone brightly, contrasting dramatically with air so cold and crisp her skin tingled with the bite of it. Despite her fatigue, her pulse quickened and a bolt of restless energy shot through her. She walked Victor to the riverfront park a few blocks away. From the jogging path at the water’s edge, she could see the medical center rising above the other university buildings across the river, the main hospital buildings and sprawling annexes forming their own insular community. She wondered if Beau was there, at Bobby’s bedside, or if she’d left for home. She thought about the woman she’d seen with Beau the night before, the one who had touched Beau with familiar ease. The woman Beau said she would call this morning. Maybe they were together right now.