Risk Factors. Calisa Rhose

      It was close to five o’clock and Viv wanted to go home. Winter hadn’t reached the Midwest yet, but from September through October the temperatures often dipped and dove sporadically, before diving for the long winter ahead. There’d been a slight chill in the air that morning and she hoped for a few more weeks of warmth before harsh weather moved in.

      She looked forward to a hot soak in the bathtub, but Skittles was due for pick-up first. Connor had assured her he’d pick her up, or have his father get her before five. She glanced at her watch again. Four-fifty-six. She didn’t mind staying late if she needed to; it would be a shame to leave the nervous animal alone another night.

      She opened the small closet to put the dust mop away.

      “Hello.”

      With a start, she spun and her hand caught the broom handle on her way around. Gasping, she grabbed uselessly, horrified as the cleaning tool flew sideways from the closet. In slow motion she saw it shoot out against Connor’s shoulder and fall with a sharp snap onto the tile floor.

      “Oh! I’m so–so sorry! Are you hurt?” Instant heat rushed up her neck and she bent to reclaim the errant broom to shove into the closet. She slammed the door and leaned against it on a sharp breath.

      “I’m fine. You worried your killer broom might attack again? You might consider putting a lock on the door,” he said with a crooked smile.

      Puzzled, Viv looked around and realized with total humiliation how it appeared she’d trapped the broom inside the closet–when in actuality, she wanted to climb through the door beside the instrument and hide.

      “Of course not. That would be silly. I didn’t expect you right now.”

      “It’s two minutes of five. I told you I’d be here for Skittles. Is it too late?”

      Right. The skunk. “No. I’m sure she’s more than ready to go home. Do you have the pet carrier to put her in?” She probably didn’t need to ask when Connor stood empty-handed before her.

      He lowered his head and she knew he’d forgotten it, fought back a smile at his forgetfulness. “Sorry. I drove straight from work and didn’t think about it.”

      “No worry. I have one you can borrow.” Which meant he’d have to see her again. She’d definitely need to see him again.

      “Thank you. I’ll bring it back tomorrow.”

      “Oh, there’s no rush. I keep a few on hand for emergencies.” She led him back to the cage where the skunk still huddled, and got a carrier while he opened the cage to retrieve his daughter’s pet. As he lifted the black fur ball out, Viv set a pink case next to him.

      He hissed under his breath and almost let the animal loose. Viv opened the cage and held it upright for him to lower the skunk down inside and shut the door. Once he stood with the pet taxi, she detected a smear of red on one finger.

      “She bit you?” Skunk bite, rabies, germs…

      “It’s fine. When she’s scared she tends to nip a warning like a cat.” Connor’s lack of care concerned Viv, however.

      “I should clean it with antiseptic before you go.”

      “I’ll tend it when I get home.”

      “But, it may have germs…get infected.”

      “It’s not the first time, and her rabies vaccination is current. Thank you, but it’s not necessary.”

      Viv stopped by a cabinet on the way to the front reception area to grab ointment and a Band-Aid.

      * * * *

      “I’d feel better if you let me take a look at this.”

      When he set the carrier down to pull out his worn wallet, Viv caught his hand.

      Connor jerked to pull his hand away, but she held on.

      “Please.”

      Her hand was warm and strong, even for her size. Something subtle and smooth eased under his skin and worked its way through his nervous system like a nano-virus. Invisible, but sensational, originating from their connected hands. His initial reaction to her earlier that week had not been a figment of his imagination. He’d wanted to get to know her then and that didn’t seem to have changed today. Regardless of the instinct that urged him to run away.

      Connor stopped resisting and set the wallet on the raised counter to extend his left hand. Without a word he let her wipe the angry scratch with astringent and apply antibiotic ointment. “Is that animal medicine?”

      “It’s the same thing we use on ourselves. Because this brand is from a vet supply, it has a different name and label. But it’s still the same antibiotic salve. Probably a bit cheaper, too.”

      He hoped the calm note in her husky voice would settle his tense nerves, force his mind back to the job at hand and not the woman touching him so comfortably.

      He risked speaking quietly–for fear she’d hear the sudden desire running rampant in his voice–but needed to keep her talking. “So it’s not just for animals. What other meds are shared?”

      “Ah, well, baby aspirin is good for four-legged pain. Human or animal ophthalmic, eye, ointment can be used in pets’ ears, but ear drops or ointment of any kind shouldn’t be used in eyes. Although people can use medicated animal eye drops, but it’s not recommended.”

      He’d hoped to relax with conversation, but it wasn’t working. With each strained word, as each second passed, the more he wanted to touch–to be touched. “Interesting.” But he wasn’t sure if he meant her medical tips or his reaction to her. That definitely interested him, and scared him at the same time.

      Viv raised her gaze and caught him inspecting her with an intensity he couldn’t explain if she asked. Bubbles erupted in his chest, like someone had poured water in a package of Janna’s Pop-Rocks and shoved it under his skin. Since when had he become so attracted to this woman?

      “Yes.”

      Her eyes changed from clear crystal to a darker, smokier color as he watched, entranced. She was close enough for him to see sprinkles of green in the depths. Close enough to smell her female scent mixed with the sweet smell of gasoline wafting off himself.

      Viv sniffed at his shoulder, at the murky odor mixed with smoke. Would she know it wasn’t the smoke of a weekend barbecue or a cigarette?

      “Have you been in a fire?”

      Connor pulled his hand away to inspect the Band-Aid. It was critical he get free of the soft touch, away from her subtle strawberry scent. Much nicer than his contrasting harsh odor. Using the excuse to retrieve his wallet from the counter, he stepped back. Could he play it off casually? “Why do you ask?”

      He still smelled of fuel from the morning crash, and smoke from the last call. Even though he’d showered at the station, fuel didn’t wash off easily. A pickup had burst into flames and EC-130-2, his team, had flown the teen driver to the burn center in St. Louis. The last-minute flight had made him late for his physical, which caused him to be late picking up Skittles, as well. He hoped the kid would be all right, but as with most of their cases, he might never know how the end turned out. He’d specifically requested Henry keep him informed of the condition of the woman from the early wreck, however. They’d survived a near tragic end together in that little green car and he needed to know Pam would be okay.

      “I…never mind. It’s probably nothing. I thought I smelled smoke.”

      Did Vivian Dane avoid getting close to another person, as much as he did? She backed off too easily. “No, it’s all right. A vehicle caught fire and I transported the driver to the hospital.”

      Her eyes grew huge in her pale face, reminding Connor again that she didn’t get enough sun. Her pink lips formed an ‘O’ shape and it took mammoth will not to kiss her stunned mouth. It was purely a physical response. Weeks since his last date