Mr. Savior: A Roommate Hero Romance

by Sullivan, Piper

  Moving in sync, we scanned every inch of space within our sight for the two campers. By about a quarter mile from the start of the basin, we were in waist high water.

  “Stop! Wait!”

  Nate’s flashlight caught the streak of red first. “There,” I called out to him. “Don’t worry, we’re here to help.”

  “No shit,” Nina called out blandly. “The ground dips significantly in about twenty feet. I went under and my feet couldn’t find the ground!” She didn’t sound panicked, which impressed me, but the worry was still clear in her voice.

  “Shit,” Nate groaned. “We’ll need to find another path. Can’t risk the water carrying us too far away.”

  “Yep.”

  “You go left and I go right?” Nate was the efficient one when it came to rescues, which was why we made a good team.

  But I was the planner. “We need to stick together. That way, we both get to them and save them. Both of them.”

  Nate gave a sharp nod and tapped my shoulder, the sign he was ready to move when I was. Getting across to Nina and Bailey took longer than it should have, given the weight and rush of the water around us. “Is it me or is the water too choppy?”

  “It’s not just you,” Nate agreed solemnly, his grip on my shoulder a little tighter as my hand landed on the rock.

  “Here, grab Bailey first,” Nina directed. “Bailey, don’t let go until one of these guys tells you to, yeah?”

  The little girl nodded, teeth chattering too hard for her to string together a sentence. “S-s-scared.”

  “But stronger than you are scared, right?” Nina turned her head to the side so she could see the girl nod. “Cool. These guys are professional rescuers, so they’re basically super heroes.”

  “Really?”

  I fought the urge to roll my eyes, but Nate chuckled. “Pretty much. I’m Nate and this is Preston.”

  Nate reached across my shoulder as Nina turned her back to us. She grabbed the little girl by the waist while I secured a rope around her. “Okay, Bailey, let go.”

  The little girl hesitated briefly, but did as she was told. With a bit of effort, she was safe in Nate’s arms as he headed back toward flat, unmovable land.

  “What about Nina?”

  “I’ve got Nina,” I shouted over the noise of the storm and the flood.

  “I really hope you do,” she cried, and I could hear a bit more panic in her voice now that Bailey was gone. “My hand is slipping, numb, and bleeding like crazy.”

  “Just hang on,” I told her, but a rush of water crashed over the rock and she slipped below the surface. I instinctively reached out to grab anything I could, catching her ankle in my hand. “Gotcha!”

  But Nina couldn’t hear me; she was still underwater. Pulling her closer until I felt the dip of her waist, I lifted her back out. Her sputtering and cursing greeted me.

  “Shit, that was close. Thanks.”

  “No problem. Do I need to tie you to me, or can you hang on?”

  “As long as you have no pointy parts, I’m good to go.” Realizing how that comment could be interpreted, Nina let out an amused laugh. “You know what I mean. And even if you don’t, that might be a bit painful for you.”

  I smiled as she wrapped her arms around my waist and gave a small squeeze that might have been a hug or could have been nothing more than a fear response. At the moment, my focus was on getting us the hell out of the water’s path.

  It took half as long to get back to stable land as it had to find the girls. Thankfully.

  Nina’s wobbly legs nearly dropped her to the ground when she tried to walk, so I held her arm to keep her steady. “Thank you. Both of you.”

  In the darkness, her hair looked black, but her eyes were such a light shade of blue they were almost clear under the emergency lights of the parking area.

  “What in the hell were you thinking? You could have died out there!” It was the wrong tactic to take and I knew I was acting like it was my very first rescue, but what she’d done was stupid and dangerous.

  Nina yanked angrily out of my grip and took a wobbly step back. “Excuse me? I said thank you. You can be on your way now, dude.”

  “It was incredibly stupid,” I said, unable to help myself.

  “Stupid to try and save the life of a seven-year-old child? Sounds like I should have tried to drown you before we got back to safety.” Arms crossed, she turned slowly and limped away on what I now noticed wasn’t just unsteady legs.

  “You’re hurt.”

  She barked out a laugh. “You couldn’t hurt me if you tried, guy.”

  “Preston,” I reminded her for some reason.

  “Thanks for the rescue, but you can keep your unsolicited advice. Preston.”

  I might have believed her if the limp hadn’t gotten worse with every step, and if she hadn’t cried out in pain a moment before collapsing to the muddy ground.

  “Stubborn woman,” I muttered. In five quick steps I was at her side, lifting her in my arms and carrying her to the truck. “You hurt your ankle and you said earlier that your hand was bleeding. Are you so pigheaded you’re going to ignore solid medical advice out of spite?”

  She sighed heavily and hit me with a glare so cold it made me shiver. Or maybe it was the rain. “I’ll get myself to the doctor after I check on Bailey and we get back to town. It’ll hold.”

  Before I could say another word, Max and Callie rushed to Nina’s side, wrapping her — and therefore me — into a large, smothering hug.

  “You scared me half to death, you big dummy,” Max chided, hugging Nina tightly.

  “You saved Bailey, Nina!” Callie took off in the little girl’s direction and gave her the same treatment her mom had given Nina.

  “Can’t breathe here,” Nina gasped.

  Max took a step back. “I don’t know whether to kill you or hug you again.”

  “How about you smile at me from a safe distance and get this dude to put me down?”

  Folding her arms, Max glared at me. I was unmoved. “She’s injured and needs medical attention,” I said simply, and that was all it took to turn Nina’s friend Maxine into an ally.

  She sighed and stepped forward. “Let Preston help you, Nina.”

  “I can help myself.” She turned to me and once again I was struck by those beautiful blue eyes. “Not that I’m ungrateful, but I can get to the doctor on my own. It’s not an emergency, which means it can wait until I get some dry clothes and my car.”

  “The bus will drop you at the ER, Nina, no problem.”

  Nina opened her mouth to refuse the help, but I spoke first. “Perfect. Give me your keys and I’ll get you clothes and your car.”

  She laughed again. “First of all, I don’t know you, and there’s no way in hell I’m letting you into my house to rifle through my panty drawer.”

  “And, second?” I asked, amused by her feisty attitude. Women rarely took that tone with me, but Nina didn’t seem at all concerned about coming across as offensive.

  “Second,” she added, “nobody drives my car.”

  It was a sweet little ride, a royal blue 1965 Mustang GT convertible — plenty of car for such a small woman. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

  She rolled her eyes as I got her settled on the front seat of the bus with her leg elevated and gauze wrapped around her bleeding hand. “Thanks for not being too big a jerk about this,” she said, softly.

  I smiled. She had no idea.

  Nina

  If there was one place I never wanted to spend any time at all, it was the hospital. Not that there was anything wrong with the West Texas General Hospital, located a short twelve miles from Tulip, I just didn’t want to be there. The nurses were a little too chipper, but the doctor had seemed competent for the five minutes I’d seen him before he ordered me to get X-rays on my right ankle and right hand.

  Two hours later, my bones had been photographed with both an X-ray and an MRI, and I sat in an uncomfortable, semi-private room locat
ed in the emergency department, waiting. And waiting. And waiting.

  My patience had worn thin. My nerves were still a little frazzled and there was a better-than-good chance I was suffering from a mild case of shock, judging by my cold, clammy skin, racing heart, and slight feeling of nausea. Or, maybe it was just the excitement of the past few hours. Either way, I was totally fucking over it.

  I couldn’t even get any rest because of all the noises that surrounded me. Machines beeping, nurses gossiping, impatient parents demanding quicker treatment for their sick or injured kids. The fluorescent lights weren’t helping, either, so I lay back, closed my eyes, and flung my forearm over my face to block out as much of it as I could.

  The last time I’d set foot in a hospital was the day I said goodbye to Uncle Rudy. I’d held his hand until his heart stopped beating, and vowed I’d never come back. And I wouldn’t have, if not for my stubborn friend and a bossy rescue worker.

  “How are we feeling, Ms. Ryland?” The young ER doctor, Dr. Cahill, strolled in with a Hollywood superstar smile on his handsome face. His thick, curly black hair stood up messily, and I wondered if it was a carefully cultivated look or if he was simply too busy to worry about mundane things such as his appearance.

  I sighed and pushed myself up with my uninjured left hand. “We’ve been better, Doc. What’s the verdict?”

  “The good news is that none of your bones are broken.” He flashed another smile that was just as stunning but held a hint of sympathy that softened it around the edges.

  “Okay, what’s the bad news?”

  “You have a torn medial ligament in your ankle, which will require a boot for a few weeks and then rehab.”

  “Rehab? It’s just a little swelling.” Okay, sure, the swelling looked like my foot had been blown up like a balloon and it was a nasty shade of purple and blue. And yeah, it hurt like a son of a bitch, but still, it was just an ankle sprain.

  “Nina.” He said my name in exasperation, but his expression remained impassive. “It’s a severe sprain. The shock from what happened to you tonight is probably why you can’t feel how much pain you’re in, but trust me, it’s bad.”

  He leveled me with a serious look for several long seconds and I stared back, refusing to be intimidated by this smart, handsome man. They were a dime a dozen, and while he was certainly pretty to look at, he was also the reason I still sat in this miserable hospital bed.

  “We’ll give you a boot for your ankle and you’ll have to wear it for three weeks, but not until after the first three days,” he said, “where I expect you to stay off the ankle completely, except for trips to the bathroom.”

  “Three weeks! I can’t be in a boot for that long, I work on my feet all day, Doc.” Three weeks in a boot meant no work, which meant no money. “There has to be another option.”

  “There isn’t,” he informed me flatly. “And three weeks is a starting point, it could be longer. And then, there’s physical therapy.”

  I groaned and fell back against the butcher paper covered bed. “Now, let’s talk about your hand.”

  “Get all the good news out of the way, Doc.”

  It didn’t really matter what he said next, because three weeks without work would eat into my savings and any longer might force me to dip into the money Uncle Rudy had left for me. Money I’d promised not to use until I figured out what the hell I would do with my life.

  “The hand isn’t too bad, but it will require stitches.” He grinned as a nurse or intern pushed a tray beside the bed that looked an awful lot like it carried a variety of torture devices. “Probably about thirteen. It won’t hurt too bad, I promise.”

  “Just get it done, please.” I leaned back and closed my eyes, listening to his sneakered footsteps on the linoleum floor. His touch was light and his skin was warm, but none of that made the needle pricks hurt any less.

  “You’ll feel some tugging, Nina, but that’s about it.”

  I nodded, keeping my eyes closed. I really didn’t want to watch. The look I’d gotten at my hand earlier had been enough — seeing where the big boulder had left a star-shaped scar in the center of my hand had nearly made me sick to my stomach.

  I opened my eyes just as the door pushed open and Mr. Bossy Pants himself strode into my room unannounced. “What are you doing here?”

  Preston, seemingly unmoved by my tone, slung a suspiciously familiar green bag onto a chair beside the door. He shrugged with a smile that was far too disarming for my liking. “It was easier to let you think you’d won than keep arguing with you. Max let me into your place, and she packed the bag — your panty drawer remains unmolested.”

  The doctor snickered over my hand. I considered how to politely reprimand him for laughing at his own patient, but before I could come up with the right thing to say, he sighed and announced, “Fifteen stitches. Care to view my handiwork?”

  “No thanks,” I replied with a firm glare. That would have to be enough. Satisfied I’d made my point, I turned back to Preston. “Thanks for the bag. Have a good night.”

  “Ouch,” he said, rubbing an imaginary wound at the center of his well-developed chest. “You’ll need a ride home,” he informed me in a take-charge tone that I did not appreciate.

  “And I will find one when the time comes.” If Maxine was busy, which she almost certainly would be, I’d take advantage of one of the three ride-sharing services in Tulip. “I’ve managed to get around this whole country on my own, but thanks for your concern,” I added, in case I’d sounded ungrateful.

  “You can’t drive on this injury,” the doctor interjected, “at least, not until after that boot comes off.”

  I shot him a dark look. “Isn’t there a law against revealing medical information with a complete stranger in the room, Doc?”

  His gaze swung from me to Preston and down to my green duffel bag before landing on me. “I apologize, but I figured he was your, uh, friend.”

  “I am a friend,” Preston confirmed. “And the man who saved her life, along with her ride home.”

  “I’m sure you have paperwork to file or lost hikers to find. Don’t worry about it, I’ll grab a ride when I’m discharged.”

  He grinned, and I tried hard not to notice how full and pink his lips were. How kissable. “Why would you do that when I’m already here?”

  “Because you have to get back to work. But thanks for the bag.”

  “You’re stubborn as hell.”

  He was right about that. I had to be, though, or people would walk all over me. I’d never let that happen. Not again.

  “You, too. Look, I appreciate the offer, but who knows how long I’ll be here. I’ll just call… shit.” All of my belongings were back at camp, either filled with water or dragged away by the flood. “Fine. You can loan me a quarter, or however much a payphone costs these days.”

  “You can make a call from here,” Dr. Cahill cut in, nodding toward the phone.

  I snorted. “And pay your exorbitant hospital rates? I don’t think so.” I turned back to Preston. “So, that quarter?”

  He crossed his arms and I might have let my gaze linger on the thick, golden-brown muscles barely contained within the green shirt that was part of his uniform. Preston cut a fine figure, and his blond hair looked perfect – dry and wavy, as though he hadn’t been caught up the same storm I was sure had me looking like a drowned cat. His blue eyes glittered, reminding me of the sun glinting off the ocean waves. “You don’t need a quarter, just give me a holler when you’re ready.” To punctuate his words, he dragged the chair from beside the door and settled it, and himself, to my left.

  By the time I had been provided with crutches, pain pills, and a boot for my ankle, another ninety minutes had passed and I was ready to sleep for twenty-four hours straight. “Fine,” I conceded wearily. “You can drop me off at my place, if the offer still stands.”

  He flashed a smile as he stood and handed me the duffel bag. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

  It was ha
rder than he knew. Relying on people wasn’t my strong suit and relying on strangers wasn’t something I typically even considered, but right now, I was trapped, and Preston was offering me a hand. “Thank you.”

  “I’ll bring the car around.”

  I frowned. “You don’t have my car, right?”

  He grinned again and shrugged like a guilty little boy. “See you in a bit.”

  He didn’t, thank god. The ride to my place was mostly quiet, except for the country songs playing on the radio, and I was grateful. Though I’d seen him around town, I didn’t really know Preston. What I did know — that he was from the town’s founding family and a rescue worker — was very little.

  “Thanks for the ride, Preston.”

  He didn’t say anything, so I shoved the door open on his big ass Escalade. Before I could climb out, his hand wrapped around my arm. “There’s no way in hell you can make it up the first seven steps, never mind the second floor.” He leaned forward, looking up at the old yellow Victorian that had been split into two apartments. Mine, as Preston had pointed out, was on the upper level.

  “Just take me to Max’s, then.” I was confident she’d let me bunk on the air mattress in the craft room of her split-level home.

  “She’s still dealing with terrified parents of all the campers,” he told me, shaking his head. “You can stay with me for the night.”

  “No, thanks. Why don’t you take me to the nearest motel?”

  “Yeah, and how do you plan to call anyone to come get you? Your phone is in a bag of rice at my place, where the rest of your stuff is drying out.”

  I turned to face him with a look so dark, I could have summoned Lucifer himself. “You had this all planned out, didn’t you?”

  “Trying to help a crazy woman who risked her life, I’m such a bastard.”

  Then, the big handsome asshole reached across me, brushing his muscular arm across my belly and making me gasp as he pulled the door shut. He hit the gas before I could attempt my escape. “If it’ll make you feel better, Nina, you can pay me to stay at my place. I promise, the food’s better than Bernie’s continental breakfast at the motel on the interstate.”