by Cate Ashwood
“Joseph Ford, trauma nurse and general pain in the ass. I’ve known him for years… met him when he was a newbie starting out, deer in headlights on his first weekend night shift in the ER. I think I laughed at him and he threatened to clock me, and we were friends from that moment, but he and Dex are best friends, so we’ve gotten closer since Dex and me got together.”
Nash processed the information before asking the next question.
“Gay?”
“Very.”
“Single?”
“I think so. Why? You interested?”
“I dunno. Just met the guy. He’s hot, though,” Nash admitted. Honestly, hot didn’t begin to cover it. At the risk of sounding like his eighty-year-old grandma, Ford was positively fetching. There was something about him, even crumpled and tired, his scrubs stained and his jaw dusted with stubble, something almost magnetic about the bright blue eyes that shone beneath a fan of lashes only a shade or two lighter than his jet-black hair. He’d only been at the coffee cart for a few minutes, but Nash couldn’t take his eyes off him.
They walked back toward the truck, and Nash glanced through the windowed door into the ER to see Ford standing behind the desk at the nurses’ station, talking to a pretty blonde in lavender scrubs. They were standing close, and she had her hand placed affectionately on his arm.
“You only think he’s single? I thought you guys were friends,” Nash asked.
“His situation is complicated. I don’t like to pry where Ford’s love life is concerned. He had a guy, apparently, but no one knows who it was. Closeted I think, not that I of all people can be one to judge. Things ended, and from what I gather, it was messy. It’s probably for the best. Between you and me, he didn’t seem all that happy when they were together.”
“Broken heart?”
“Maybe at first. He didn’t really talk much about it.”
“But he’s not with anyone now?”
“As far as I know, there hasn’t been anyone since the mystery guy. He seems to be a bit jaded about relationships.”
“So not the best time to be asking him out to dinner, then?”
“I guess it depends on how attached you are to your balls.”
“Got it.”
Adam cleared from the hospital over the radio, letting dispatch know they were free. Nash filed away the information Adam had relayed about Ford. Mining for personal details about the guy might be shameless, but it had been a while since Nash had felt a pop of attraction that strong.
The moment the ambulance’s tires hit the pavement on the street, dispatch was tagging them with another call. It was like that most nights, and Nash loved the rush that took over with each new call. It got old for a lot of guys, the constant rushing around, no breaks, the unknown of each new situation. And yeah, a lot of the calls they attended were utter bullshit. But some weren’t, and when Nash stepped in, he felt like God.
It was the most addictive feeling ever.
The rest of the night passed in a blur of lights and sirens and adrenaline. They had barely finished one call before being tagged with the next. In and out of the hospital they ran, and every time, Nash caught himself, gaze lifting over the stretcher to search the busy room for Ford.
He wanted to see him once more, just to see him. As many times as they were in and out, though, Ford must have been busy with other things. By the end of his shift, Nash was wiped, and he’d yet to see Ford again. They finished up with the last call, only overtime by half an hour, and returned to the station to finish up paperwork and restock the ambulance before heading home to crash.
WHEN NASH showed up at the station the next evening, the ambulance bay was empty. Both day crews were still out. He climbed the stairs to the main living quarters. The interior of the station looked like every other station he’d been to, with mismatched furniture that had most likely originated from someone’s basement or an ad for cheap furniture on Craigslist.
Nash said hello to Caleb as he crossed to sit on the sagging sofa to wait for Adam.
“You want some soup?” Rob, Caleb’s partner, called, popping his head out from the kitchen.
“Uh, no. Thanks, though,” Nash called back, and Caleb gave him a nod of approval. He’d known not to eat anything Rob offered before he even learned the guy’s name. Possibly the worst cook on the planet, he didn’t seem to possess any taste buds whatsoever, if the revolting creations he came up with were any indication.
“I need a fucking vacation,” Caleb complained, hoisting his feet up to thump them down on the coffee table as he leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head.
“You can take me to Hawaii,” Rob yelled.
From the look on Caleb’s face, it was apparent he didn’t think that was a very good suggestion.
“If I’m going to go on a tropical getaway, I am sure as shit not taking you with me. I’m stuck looking at your ugly face enough as it is.”
Rob chuckled and Caleb grinned. Nash might be new to the station, but it was easy to see how much the guys all loved one another like family. Nash wanted to belong to that, to think of these guys as his friends, his brothers. He was still the new guy, but everyone had been incredibly nice to him so far.
Adam arrived a moment later, crossed the living room and ducked into the kitchen, and then returned with two energy drinks, one in each hand.
“Hey, Sam texted earlier, but I was at the gym. Do you need us to bring anything to your housewarming?” Caleb asked.
“No idea. You know that’s more Dex’s thing than mine. I know we don’t need Rob to bring anything.”
Rob sauntered in, holding a bowl of soup Nash could smell from across the room. He almost retched.
“I was gonna make the dip,” Rob protested.
“Yeah, no one is going to eat anything you cook. You should know that by now. You can bring the beer. Nash can bring the dip,” Caleb said.
Nash’s eyebrows shot up.
“You are coming, right?” Caleb asked him.
“I didn’t know I was invited,” Nash said.
“Don’t be a dumbass,” Adam said, rolling his eyes.
No explanation beyond that was given, and Nash felt the happiness blooming in his chest. This is what had been missing for the last seven years. Within two weeks of transferring into Station 217, without question, he’d clicked into the brotherhood he’d always hoped he’d find in the service.
He killed the stupid smile that threatened to break his face and shrugged, trying to feign the nonchalance he in no way felt. “Okay, yeah, I can bring the dip.”
“Well, that’s settled. Nash is on dip. Rob, you’re on booze, and don’t you dare cheap out this time,” Caleb said.
Rob scowled at him. “What are you bringing?”
Caleb grinned, his smile wicked. “I’m going to con my sister into making dessert for me.”
“That’s low, man. She’s not even coming and you’re going to make her cook?” Rob asked.
“She loves it. That woman is addicted to Pinterest like no one else. Any excuse to try out a recipe, she’ll jump at it.”
“Who am I to say no to a dessert from Danielle Callaghan?” Adam said.
Nash almost missed the conversation. His mind wandered from the platonic acceptance the guys at the station had offered, ambling toward the party and the knowledge Ford would be there too. Warm tingles lit his belly at the thought of seeing him again.
Marc and Anna, two members of the day crew, entered then, both looking exhausted.
“It’s all yours, boys,” Anna said, unhooking her radio and passing it to Adam.
Adam thanked her and switched the battery out before attaching it to his own belt. Their shift had officially started, and it wasn’t two minutes before they were tagged with their first call.
Chapter Three
ADAM AND Sam’s new apartment was near the water, on the fourth floor of an industrial-style building, walking distance from the hospital. Ford had been there shortly after they’d closed on it,
Sam having been too excited to wait until they actually lived there to show it off.
Adam had moved in with Sam not long after coming out and they’d officially become a couple, but Sam had wanted to find a place for both of them. Ford had been surprised they’d chosen a condo rather than a house, but it made sense for their lifestyles. Sam’s job was closer to nine-to-five than Adam’s, but neither of them had typical office jobs. He suspected living in a secure building made Adam feel better too. He was incredibly protective of Sam, especially after coming so close to losing him.
The door clicked as Sam buzzed him in. Ford used his hip to push the door open, his hands full with three bottles of wine, then walked to the elevator at the far end of the lobby to ride the four floors up.
When he reached their door, Ford knocked, and a moment later Sam opened it, beaming, the apples of his cheeks pinker than usual and his eyes a little glassy.
“I’m so happy you’re here,” Sam said, taking the wine from him and setting it down on the table next to the door before pulling Ford into a hug tight enough it almost knocked the wind out of him.
“Oof. I’m happy to be here.” Ford caught Adam’s attention over Sam’s shoulder, mouthing the words “Wine already?” at him. Sam usually wasn’t quite this demonstrative, but Ford had learned that wine made him cuddly.
Adam quirked one eyebrow, smiling wide.
Ford pulled back from the hug. “Can I help you with anything?”
“Everything is already taken care of,” Sam declared proudly.
“We ordered in from Manello’s. It should be here soon. We weren’t going to chance Dex’s cooking,” Adam said.
Sam shot him an annoyed look.
“And the rest of the guys are bringing something. Caleb’s bringing a dessert his sister made.”
“I had dessert covered,” Sam protested.
Adam walked across the living room, pulled Sam in close, and kissed his forehead. “Hostess cupcakes are not dessert. They are a goddamn abomination.”
“They are not. They’re—”
There was a knock at the door, and Sam paused midsentence, turning to open it. Ford took his shoes off and pushed them to the side, then backed up to make room for everyone else to come in.
Sam threw the door open and ushered Caleb, Nash, and Rob inside.
“Hey, guys. Thanks so much for coming.”
“Peach cobbler, from Dani,” Caleb said, passing the dish to Sam and dipping his head in greeting to Ford.
Rob carried a case of beer in—Pabst Blue Ribbon apparently—and set it down on the coffee table.
“We were just having a glass of wine before dinner.”
“Or four,” Adam mumbled under his breath.
Sam glared at Adam as he shepherded everyone into the living room, but even under the irritated look, Ford saw the love there anyway. It was disgusting.
“Adam, make yourself useful. Everyone needs drinks.”
“You got it.”
Drinks were poured, and the men gathered in the living room—Sam on the couch, Adam perched on the arm above him, always close. Rob and Caleb each chose one of the armchairs, and Ford lowered himself to the floor in front of the fireplace. Nash sat on the floor a few feet from Ford, legs crossed, leaning against the wall.
Ford had to admit that the place seemed so much more comfortable and homey now that Sam and Adam had moved all their stuff in. The first time he toured the place, he was surprised by how stark and clinical it appeared. The space he’d pictured them in was warmer, more cozy, but with their plush furniture and personal touches—pictures of their families and friends, as well as other keepsakes they’d gathered over the years—it was everything Ford expected in the home they’d chosen.
His apartment was much smaller and seemed dismal and gray in comparison. He made a mental note to look into getting some newer, grown-up furniture. Living alone on a nurse’s salary, even with the insane amount of overtime he clocked, did not allow for vaulted ceilings and ocean views. Drab and sort of cramped was a good descriptor, but he spent so little time there, it didn’t ultimately matter much.
The wine flowed as easily as the conversation. Sam relayed the trials and tribulations they’d gone through to get the place they bought. Ford looked around as Sam explained that originally there was another couple who had outbid them for the apartment. Adam and Sam had been disappointed when they thought they’d lost it but found out later the couple who outbid them actually lived downstairs. They’d seen Adam and Sam looking at the place with their Realtor, and not wanting to live in the same building as “sodomites,” they had overbid them on the asking price of the condo, in the hopes they would move on.
“But they had no intention of ever buying the place. The contract fell through when they neglected to come up with financing, and so we jumped on it,” Adam finished for him.
“Do they still live here?” Rob asked.
Adam nodded and crossed his arms. “Right below us.”
“Well, that’s awkward,” said Caleb.
“Maybe for them. But our first night in here, we made sure they were aware of exactly how much we enjoy being ‘sodomites.’”
Adam chuckled and Sam blushed.
“What a couple of fucking assholes. They had to have known they’d get caught. What a shitty situation,” Rob said.
“It worked out for us in the end. When it came to light what had happened, the original owner of the place knocked off a couple thousand dollars to make up for what we’d gone through,” Adam said.
“This place is perfect for us.” Sam’s eyes looked almost misty as he spoke.
Ford felt the knot in his throat. He needed to slow down on the wine. He was getting emotional. Although Sam and Adam were the only couple together in the room, and he was by no means a third wheel, the bitterness threatened to sneak in. He pushed it back, not wanting his issues to put a damper on the night.
“Who wants a tour?” Sam asked.
Everyone volunteered, and when the food arrived a moment later, Adam offered to set it out while Sam showed everyone around.
It was a very short tour. The living room, dining room, and kitchen were all one space, with the ceiling in the living room open to the second floor. There was a staircase that ran along the wall to access the second floor, which held the three bedrooms—master and en suite, along with two guest rooms—as well as Sam’s office and a bathroom with a shower large enough for three or four people to fit comfortably inside, which Caleb demonstrated when he pulled Ford and Rob into the enclosure with him.
The place was gorgeous, all high ceilings and industrial brick walls. Large windows let in the light of the city and a peekaboo view of the water from the far right. The place oozed Adam and Sam, and as intensely jealous as Ford was, he was happy for his friends.
Sam led the tour back to the main floor, and everyone sat down to eat at the large farmhouse-style table that shouldn’t have worked in the space but somehow did.
The food was amazing and the company even better. They got together regularly, but usually they chose the Copper Nickel, a bar centrally located near the hospital. It wasn’t the trendiest place, but it was the gathering spot for most of the emergency personnel in the area. It was nearly always busy, weekdays as busy as weekends, which also meant it was generally loud.
Ford wasn’t sure they’d ever gathered at someone’s home for dinner. It felt so… adult. Adam offered him another glass of wine. He was going to need to pour himself into a cab soon or he wouldn’t be vertical enough to get home. But never being one to turn down an offer of alcohol, of course he accepted.
Everyone at the table erupted with laughter when Rob finished telling a story about a call they’d done the week before where a grown man had gotten his head stuck in between the slats of his headboard during a particularly energetic round of sex with his girlfriend.
Ford felt good. Laughing felt amazing, and he loved his friends more than anything. It had been too long since he’d taken a ni
ght to let loose and decompress.
Even the new guy, Nash, was holding his own with the other guys. He knew from experience that breaking into a group so tightly knit wasn’t always the easiest, yet he seemed to fit right in, as though he’d always been a part of it. The way he looked at Ford, though, made goose bumps pop up on Ford’s skin. It made him hyperaware of himself. He felt noticed, and it put him on edge more than it should have.
When dinner was done, Ford helped clean up the kitchen. Since they’d ordered in, there weren’t that many dishes to be done, so they made quick work of the handful of plates and stashed the leftovers in the fridge. Adam and Sam weren’t going to have to cook for a week at least, which was good, because the interior of their fridge was basically empty.
Nash was drying the last of the platters Caleb had washed, and Rob and Adam were in the living room talking about hockey, a subject Ford had absolutely no interest in.
“I’m going to step out for a second,” Ford said, gesturing toward the window and ignoring the disappointed expression on Sam’s face. He knew how Sam felt about his smoking, but he’d come a long way from the pack a day he used to inhale, quite literally.
The heat in the kitchen was getting to him, which probably had something to do with the way Nash kept catching his eye. The interested glances and flirty looks hadn’t subsided. Ford couldn’t decide if he enjoyed the attention or if he was feeling self-conscious. It had been so long since he’d done this—since long before Peter—that the whole situation felt foreign.
“I’ll come with you. If that’s okay,” Nash said, pulling Ford from his thoughts.
Ford shrugged one shoulder and answered before he could think too hard about it. “Sure.”
They ducked out the window on the west side of the apartment and perched themselves on the fire escape. Nash shut the window behind them, closing them off from the rest of the group. They were in easy view of the guys in the kitchen, but somehow it felt more secluded, almost intimate.