Firefighter's Unexpected Fling. Susan Carlisle

say, “My grandpa’s in there.”

      The man hadn’t hesitated before he’d run toward the house. Ross had watched in shock as he’d entered the front door. Moments later he’d come out, pulling his grandpa onto the porch and down the steps and straight toward the waiting medics. It wasn’t until then that Ross had noticed the full agony of his back.

      Both he and his grandpa had spent some time in the hospital. They’d had burns and lung issues. His grandfather had been told by the arson investigator that he believed the fire had started from a spark from the woodstove. Ross only knew for sure he was glad his grandpa and he had survived. Regardless of what had started the fire, Ross still carried large puckered scars on his back and shoulder as a reminder of that fateful night.

      Last week, the moment he’d learned there was someone in the house he’d reacted before thinking. His Battalion Chief hadn’t been pleased. Only because the outcome had been positive had Ross managed to come out without it damaging his career. He had been told in no uncertain terms that it wasn’t to happen again. The message had been loud and clear: don’t have any marks against you or you won’t make Battalion Chief.

      It was midafternoon when he was out with the rest of the company doing their daily checkup and review of the equipment that he saw Sal walking to the ambulance. Her black hair was pulled up away from her face and she wore her usual jumpsuit. She glanced at him and nodded. Memories of the look of concern in her eyes and a flicker of something else, like maybe interest, as she’d watched him in the hospital drifted through his mind.

      Ross had known she was Kody’s sister before she’d joined the house. Over the past year they had shared shifts a few times. With him working twenty-four hours on and forty-eight off and her not being able to work the same days as her brother, they hadn’t often been on the same schedule. Still, he’d heard talk. More than one firefighter had sung her praises. A few had even expressed interest in her. They had all reported back that they had been shot down. She wasn’t interested. There was some speculation as to why, but Ross knew, through Kody, that she was a divorcée. Maybe she was still getting over her broken marriage.

      Swinging up on the truck, Ross winced. He had hit something, a door facing or a piece of furniture, on his way out of the burning house. At the hospital they had been concerned with the smoke inhalation and he’d not said anything about his ribs hurting because he hadn’t wanted to be admitted. The pain was better than it had been.

      He checked a few gauges and climbed out again. This time he tried not to flinch.

      Sal came up beside him and said in a low voice, “I saw your face a minute ago. Are you all right? Are you still having trouble breathing?”

      “No, I’m fine. I’m good.”

      She gave him a skeptical look as her eyebrows drew together. “Are you sure?”

      “Yeah.” If he wasn’t careful, she’d make him see a doctor. Did she have that God complex firefighters joked about? The one that went: What’s the difference between a paramedic and God? God doesn’t think he’s a paramedic.

      She scrutinized him for a moment. It reminded him of when his mother gave him that look when she knew he wasn’t being truthful. “You were in pain a second ago.”

      He’d been caught. She wasn’t going to let it go. Had she been watching him that closely? He’d have to give that more thought later. “I have a couple of ribs that were bruised when I came out of the house.”

      “Did you tell them at the hospital?”

      Now he felt like he had when his mother had caught him. Ross gave her a sheepish look. “No.”

      “That figures.” She shook her head. “You firefighters. All of you think you’re superheroes.”

      He grinned. “Who dares to say we’re not?”

      She just glared at him. “Feeling like one of those a minute ago?”

      He relaxed his shoulders. “I’ve been wrapping it. I just have trouble getting it tight enough without help.”

      “You shouldn’t be doing that. You need to stop that and just take it easy. Ribs take a while to heal.”

      “It’s hard to do that when you have chores to do at home.”

      “Don’t you have a wife or girlfriend who could help with those?”

      “I don’t have either.” He’d never had a wife. Had come close once but it hadn’t worked out.

      “Come in here—” Sal indicated the medical area “—and let me have a look. Get rid of that bandage.” She didn’t wait for him, instead she walked toward the door as if she fully expected him to follow her orders.

      Ross hesitated a moment, then trailed after her. He looked back over his shoulder. He didn’t need any surprise visits from the bosses just when he was being looked over for more injuries. He hated showing any signs of weakness.

      He rarely came to this side of the building. Sal was in the spacious room with a couple of tables and chairs, and a wall of supply cabinets.

      She pushed a stool on wheels toward him. “Take your shirt off, then have a seat.”

      He couldn’t do that! She would see his scars. He didn’t completely take his shirt off around people for any reason. How to get around doing so had become a perfected art for him. The other morning at the hospital it had been a fight, but he’d convinced first the EMT and then the hospital staff it wasn’t necessary to take his shirt off.

      She left him to go to a cabinet across the room. Ross took a moment to appreciate the swing of her hips before he pushed his T-shirt up under his arms.

      When she returned, she had a pair of scissors in her hand.

      “Hey, I don’t think you’ll need those.”

      She smirked. “They’re to cut the bandage if I need to.” She then gave him an odd look but said nothing about his shirt still being on.

      He explained, “It hurts too much to lift my arms.”

      She nodded, seeming to accept his explanation. “Your bandage is around your waist, not your ribs. It wasn’t doing you any good anyway.”

      He gave her a contrite look. “I told you I’d done a poor job of it.”

      “You’re right about that. It doesn’t matter. I’m taking it off. And you’re leaving it off.”

      “Is that an example of the tender care I’ve heard so much about?” Ross watched her closely.

      Her gaze met his. “I save that for people who shouldn’t know better.”

      One of his palms went to the center of his chest. “That was a shot to my ego.”

      She huffed. “That might be so but I’m stating truth. Can you raise your arms out to your sides?”

      He winced but he managed to do as she requested. Sal stepped closer. She smelled of something floral. Was it her shampoo or lotion? Whatever it was, he wanted to lean in and take a deeper breath. Her hands worked on the bandage, removing it; her fingers journeyed across his oversensitive stomach. He looked down. Her dark hair veiled her face. It looked so silky. Would it feel that way if he touched it?

      No! What was going on? He’d never acted this way around any of the other women he worked with. He hardly knew Sal. She was the sister of one of his best friends. Was he overreacting because he’d not had a date in so long? Whatever it was, it had to stop. His sister wanted to set him up on a blind date. Maybe he should agree.

      Sal gathered the bandage in her hand, stepped away from him and dropped the wad into a garbage can.

      Ross couldn’t help but be relieved, but he was disappointed at the same time. He lowered his arms.

      “Okay, arms up again. Show me where you hurt.”

      With his index