Название | Heatwave |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Jamie Denton |
Жанр | Современные любовные романы |
Серия | |
Издательство | Современные любовные романы |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781474018036 |
She looked from Drew to Cale, then back at Drew. The barest hint of a smile curved her lips. “Please, tell me I’m not seeing double.”
“Nah.” Cale stepped up to the gurney. “There’s two of us. I’m Drew’s older, much better-looking brother.”
Drew ignored that comment and adjusted the head of the gurney for Emily as she attempted to sit upright. “Emily Dugan, my brother, Cale. The maladjusted middle child.”
“Middle? You mean there’s more of you?” Her gaze scanned them both again. “And you’re both firemen?”
“Paramedic,” Cale said. “Drew here likes to catch firebugs, and Ben, our oldest brother, he’s the firefighter.”
Emily frowned and looked at Drew. “You’re an arson inspector?”
Cale slapped a hand down on Drew’s shoulder. “Yup, he knows what a fire thinks.”
“Don’t you have somewhere to go?” Drew asked his brother.
“Not at the moment.” Cale never could take a hint.
Drew decided to continue ignoring him. “Have they told you about your grandmother?” he asked Emily.
She nodded. “I’m going up to see her as soon as they release me. Do you know how it happened?”
He had a pretty good idea. Someone was setting fires. Until today, no one had been injured. Velma Norris’s burns might not be life-threatening, but next time she might not be as fortunate.
“A fire was smoldering in the trash bin outside the school,” Drew told Emily. “When your grandmother opened the bin, oxygen fed the flames. Her right hand and part of her forearm were injured.”
Emily opened her mouth to say something just as a young doctor pushed through the curtain. He glanced at Emily, then at Drew and Cale. “Which one of you is responsible for the patient?”
“I am,” Drew said, before he could stop himself. He wasn’t really responsible for her, but he sure felt as if he’d been assigned the task of taking care of her. Exactly why, however, remained a mystery, especially since rescuing damsels in distress was Cale’s gig, not his.
The doctor looked down at the chart, then back at Emily. “We have good news. Your labs came back in good order, and there were no signs of heatstroke. But I do suggest you take it easy and be sure to drink plenty of liquids as a precaution.”
“May I leave now?” Emily asked, a hopeful note in her husky voice. The kind of voice that held the power to drift over a man’s heart.
The doctor nodded, then tucked the chart under his arm. He gave Drew a stern look. “Don’t leave her alone tonight. Just to be on the safe side…considering.”
Drew frowned. “Considering?”
“Yes, considering her condition.” The doctor smiled suddenly and extended his right hand to Drew. “You’re going to be a father, Mr. Dugan. Congratulations!”
2
PREGNANT?
How on earth had that happened?
Emily wasn’t stupid or naive. She knew all about the how, but the whys and why nows had her more than a little dumbfounded.
Alone on her grandmother’s side of the semiprivate room, amid the get-well bouquets already arriving from friends and relatives, Emily lounged in the hard taupe vinyl chair and absently nibbled on her thumbnail while staring at the television screen where Pat Sajak interviewed the contestants on Wheel of Fortune. She hadn’t spent five minutes alone with Grandy when an orderly had come and taken her away for therapy on her hand and arm, which was probably a good thing. At least Emily had a few minutes to herself to try to absorb the news the doctor had given her.
Drew had left, too. Well, run away was more like it after the doctor had mistakenly assumed she and Drew were together, not that she could blame the gorgeous arson inspector. She’d been as shocked by the news as Drew had been horrified by the doctor’s assumption. Drew’s brother had been highly amused, something which had brought a nurse in to ask Cale to leave because his chuckles were disturbing the other patients.
Drew had really surprised her when, despite everything, he’d told her he’d come back for her in a couple of hours so she’d have some time to visit her grandmother, no matter how much she’d insisted otherwise. Didn’t she have enough problems without the unwanted attention of a handsome stranger, who was apparently very into playing Prince Valiant? Obviously someone thought her plate wasn’t quite full enough.
Not that she was all that worried about it since she’d sworn off men, effective immediately.
She let out a sigh, her third in as many minutes. Pregnant? How on earth had that happened?
Better yet, how had her life managed to spin so completely out of control in virtually the blink of her eyes. She’d been a successful advertising executive, leading a creative team through a multibillion dollar ad campaign for a major department-store chain. She’d believed she was in a secure, stable and very comfortable long-term relationship, living together with her own supposed Mr. Right in an absolutely perfect two-bedroom, rent-controlled apartment on the west side. The next thing she knew, she was not only unemployed and single, but homeless and now pregnant, as well. All in the space of twenty-four hours.
Forget lemons. Life had handed her a whole basketful of limes, which everyone knew were much more bitter-tasting. In her state of impending motherhood, she didn’t even have the luxury of being able to reach for the closest bottle of tequila and shaker of salt to make the best of a bad situation.
She nipped the skin surrounding her thumbnail and winced. On the other side of the pink-and-gray striped curtain, Grandy’s roomy snored softly while a very enthusiastic young woman bought vowels on the television. If Emily was feeling sorry for herself, which she wasn’t, she figured even Shakespeare would be hard-pressed to write anything more tragic than the mess her life had become. Somehow, everything had managed to tilt so far off balance, she wondered if she dared tempt fate by holding even an ounce of hope that she might regain a modicum of control. She’d leapt from being a smart, savvy businesswoman with not only solid goals for her professional future, but with a finely detailed map of what she planned to accomplish in her personal life, onto an emotional roller coaster with more twists and turns than she could keep up with, even on a good day.
How in the world had that happened?
Before she did more damage to her thumb, she wrapped her arms around her middle and leaned forward in the chair. She was pregnant, something she figured would take her a little time to get used to.
But she’d been on birth control, for crying out loud. Why now, especially since her so-called boyfriend had dumped her for another woman just two hours before her flight to Los Angeles. For a junior partner in his law firm, he’d said. A woman more in tune with his professional needs.
Professional needs? The last time she’d looked, relationships were based on matters of the heart.
Charlie, now unaffectionately known as Cheatin’ Charlie, hadn’t even had the decency to end their relationship in private, but in the passenger check-in area of JFK Airport, of all places. Correction, he’d ended their relationship and informed her he would have her stuff moved into storage while she was in L.A. Considering she’d just been handed a pink slip the day before, along with twenty percent of the work force at Anderson and McIntyre Advertising because of corporate downsizing, she hadn’t put up much of a fight. Yep, she’d gone from smart and savvy all right…straight to doormat.
Perhaps she’d just been too stunned to feel anything. With one striking blow after another, who could blame her? Even now, a dozen or so hours later, she still had a hard time mustering up anything close to an emotional outburst, angry, hurt or otherwise where Cheatin’