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“Tell you what, sport. You get fixed up and then one day, get your mom to bring you to the firehouse. Station Eight. I’ll let you see one for yourself.”
“Wow. Do you mean it?”
“Sure do. Remember. Station Eight.”
“I’ll remember. Hey, Mom. Mike said I can go to his firehouse and see a real fire engine.”
He didn’t think the mother’s eyes could get any brighter with tears glimmering in them, but her smile only made them glow more. He read the appreciative gleam and that gave him all the thanks he needed.
Tracey led them to a private room. Inside, Mike put the boy down and stepped back. Tracey removed the wrapping and cleaned the boy up. He never moved. Never let out a peep. Definitely needed stitches. A man entered, wearing scrubs, a stethoscope hanging around his neck.
“What do we have here?” The doctor’s smile put Todd’s mom right at ease. She was lucky to have such a trooper for a son.
While the doctor talked with Todd’s mom, Tracey pulled Mike to the side.
“I heard you pulled a woman from a burning car last night. While you were off duty.”
News traveled fast. Word had a way of spreading like fire among the emergency crew.
“Yeah. That’s why I’m here.”
Her forehead creased in a confused frown.
“I, uh, need to get checked out.”
“Did you get hurt?” Tracey asked, tugging him into the next room.
“I got a scratch. Shep sent me here.” He gave a self-conscious shrug. “You know the drill.”
“I know if Shep sent you to the ER, there must have been a reason. Let’s have a look.”
Mike cautiously peeled off his shirt, then faced Tracey. Her fingers were gentle as she removed the gauze and tape from his burned side.
She gasped.
“This is no scratch.” She glared at him, irritation radiating in her eyes. “Mike Armstrong. You should have been in here last night.” She turned to a cabinet and retrieved more gauze and ointment.
“Welcome to the club.”
“Excuse me?”
“You sound like everyone else.”
“Well at lease everyone else has the God given sense that you don’t. Get on the table.”
“Can’t you—”
Her glare had him groaning and hiking his hip up on the examining board.
Fifteen minutes later, he stepped from the hospital out into bright sunshine. He glanced at the paper in his hand and then the other holding his prescription. Tracey could be intense. Although he could have done without the lecture.
Next stop, the station. Mike shoved his shades on his face and sprinted down the front steps.
Traffic was calm at this time of the day, with most everyone at work and kids in school. Last week, a school bus had wrecked. With heavy morning traffic, he’d feared the worst. Dispatch calls involving children frightened him the most. The entire team had been on edge. Thank God, when the crew had gotten to the accident sight, they found all the kids were okay.
He unlocked his truck, then climbed into the cab. Just before he turned the key, he caught a hint of something sweet. Cassie’s perfume. She’d driven his truck home last night and her scent still lingered in the cab. He’d gotten a good dose of her fragrance. It was one of the fixations that drew him. He couldn’t get enough of her alluring scent, her softness, her little moans … God. He couldn’t stop thinking about the woman. He wanted to see her again.
Damn. He slammed his hand on the steering wheel. With his pager going off at her place, he’d dashed out of there without getting her phone number. No way of getting in touch with her, other than driving by her apartment. Would she mind if he showed up without warning? She’d been sweet and caring, even interesting. After the night they’d shared, though, he wondered if she’d be one of those females who’d sit by the phone expecting him to call.
